#can you get angry handwriting? you can now
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hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.
i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?
i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.
i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.
i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.
the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.
i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.
the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.
how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.
i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.
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arguments and odd positions
lyney x gn!reader
you knew lyney was a magician, but opening your fridge only to see him inside instead of your recently bought groceries is taking it a little too far. or — you refuse to talk to lyney after an argument, which leads to lyney putting himself in various odd positions in order to get you to speak to him.
comedy-ish, just lyney being weird and lynette being his accomplice
Lyney’s not one to let you stew in your anger after an argument. He’s persistent in getting you to speak with him to try and resolve the issue, which leads to a few… ridiculous and frankly odd situations he puts himself in just so he can talk to you.
An hour after you rushed off after a heated argument, you open your door only to find a little note stamped on it with the words I’m sorry :( written in a loopy handwriting. A bit creepy that he sneaked into your bedroom without your notice, but while the note makes you soften a bit, you’re still angry with him.
Which then leads to more… drastic measures. The likes of which Lyney has to force Lynette to help him with.
Two hours after your argument, you’re opening your fridge, only to lurch away and bite back a scream of surprise when you see Lyney standing inside your fridge.
“I’m sorry—” he starts, but you’re quick to close the door on him.
It escalates after that.
Everywhere you go, Lyney is right there.
In the middle of watering the plants in your backyard, you shift a few leaves from a bush and come face to face with none other than Lyney. He smiles sheepishly at you, a few twigs stuck in his hair. You don’t know how he managed to hide himself in that bush, but instead of acknowledging him, you spray him with water and leave.
You’re in the middle of cooking when you open your cupboard and see Lyney crouched inside the small space (how did he even fit in there?) He gives you a little wave which you ignore as you close the cupboard on him.
It goes on like that for a while. You turning around and seeing Lyney in bizarre positions that make you question how he even managed to end up in the first place.
You check in on your aquarium to feed your fish, only to see Lyney inside the aquarium. You open a book to read, but Lyney’s face is printed on every page. You try reading the newspaper, but the headlines are filled with nothing but Lyney’s name and why you should forgive him. You play a song, but Lyney’s voice echoes instead of the opera singer’s. You open your closet to change clothes, and Lyney is inside the cramped space wearing your clothes.
He’s everywhere.
You shift the curtains open, and Lyney. Is. Right. There.
You swear the windows had been firmly shut, and there hadn’t even been the slightest outline to tell that a person was hiding behind the curtains.
“Darling, please—”
You swish the curtains close on him and stomp your way to the bedroom. You make sure to lock the door, double checking the windows to prevent any chances of Lyney sneaking in.
When you’re sure that not even the hydro archon can break into your room, you sink down on your bed, exhaustion settling in as you turn your head over this bizarre day.
Lyney was persistent, yes, but never to this degree. He showered you with all sorts of compliments and bent over backwards so you can always have your way. In hindsight, the fact that you’ve never once argued before should have been a hint that Lyney has always been careful to make sure you’re happy—too careful, at that. It makes sense, you think, that he’s so desperate to make peace with you now that you’ve had your first argument.
Still, despite how odd his actions were, it was a little touching to see how far he’d go just to apologize to you. Maybe tomorrow you’ll finally acknowledge his existence.
You shift, turning to the other side of your bed—
And Lyney is right there, laying on his side and watching you with a smile on his lips.
You feel your anger and resolve crumble in the face of that smile. And really, it’s been a long day. Staying angry isn’t going to do anyone any good.
He opens his mouth, but you interrupt him with an exasperated sigh, shuffling forward and snuggling your head in the crook of his neck.
“I forgive you,” you murmur.
You feel him circle his arms around you, letting out a happy little sigh of contentment as he buried his face on top of your head, pressing a kiss that sends a spark right down your spine. He’s dressed in a soft shirt and cotton shorts made for sleeping, clearly having expected to sleep here beside you. Sneaky. You’ll get him back for the near heart attacks today, but for now, you’ll settle for basking in the warmth he radiates, letting his heartbeat lull you to sleep.
And you think that’s the end of it, that the two of you will drift off to sleep in each others’ embrace, but then—
“Lynette, tell Freminet to cancel the fireworks show! Plan Y version two is no longer needed!”
#i love characterizing him as a silly little man#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#lyney x reader#gn reader
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So back on my durgetash bullshit but. The prayer for forgiveness is on Gortash's workbench in the mindflayer colony. Obviously. Someone else has also written something kinda shitty on it, but it ends up on his workbench. And I really like imagining how it got there.
Orin kills you, takes over, dumps your body in a ditch. You get experimented on for weeks in your half alive state, but Kressa was hiding that (she wasn't allowed to have toys Balthazar didn't approve of) til she got caught. But im imagining Orin coming in and saying that she is the new chosen of Bhaal, she'll be taking over. Her jealous ass probably moved into Durge's quarters and threw all of their stuff out. Someone finds the diary of the overthrown bhaalspawn, not so scary now ripped to shreds, and they're making fun of you in your own diary after you're too far gone to stop them.
Imagining Gortash finding a group of cultists snickering over a book one day and then he recognizes the handwriting. He gets angry, snatches it, says something about "don't you have any respect?" But he's seething because how dare they forget your place so quickly? While he's still reeling to come to terms with it?
Imagining that he doesn't mean to snoop, he can respect your privacy even if others can't, but eventually it gets the better of him. The last part of you he has left, the last new words you might ever speak to him, even if they weren't meant for him. He can't resist, he has to read it. And he does. Maybe he keeps the whole thing elsewhere, maybe he throws it out. But im imagining him tearing this page out, keeping the "Orin was right about her kin" comment. Keeping it on his desk. You did care about him. People knew it, too. It was real. And now you're gone, and he's left clutching onto scraps of you.
Anyways. Just normal thoughts.
#durgetash#durge#the dark urge#gortash#lord gortash#enver gortash#lord enver gortash#gortash x durge#bg3 durge#durge spoilers#durge tav#gortash x dark urge#dark urge x gortash#bg3 gortash#baldurs gate gortash#i am unwell
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All night
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: Charles is worried about his car and you
Warnings: Fluff!
A/n: yes I know that it doesn’t work like this! But humour me.
A/N2: This may or may not have been sat in my drafts since Feb 24 2022...
Masterlist
Charles was an idiot. That much everybody could agree on. A lovely idiot. But an idiot nonetheless.
"I'm so sorry." Charles apologised again. His voice was small and sheepish as he looked at your unimpressed face. His arms were resting on the tail of his car.
"I'm not angry at you." You assured him. Your hands were on your hips as you stared at his car.
"Do you think you will be done in time?" Charles asked. His voice small and worried.
"I will." You assured him your voice filled with confidence you didn't feel. But Charles didn't need to know that.
"Really?" Charles asked. His face lit up like a kid on Christmas. And that face was the reason you would be pulling an all-nighter on the off chance it would let you fix his car in time.
"Really." You nodded, determination filling you. "But you should probably go back to the hotel.
"I'll wait for you," Charles told you.
"No, you won't." You told him. "You need to have a good night's sleep for when you race tomorrow."
"Are you sure?" Charles asked you unsurely.
"Of course." You assured him. "Now, the sooner you go, the sooner I can get started, and the sooner I can be finished."
"Thank you so much," Charles grinned. Kissing you on the cheek before he whizzed out to tell everybody he could race.
Taking a deep breath, you put your headphones on. Putting your favourite playlist on shuffle, you got to work.
Charles bounded into the Ferrari garage. He hadn't seen you since last night when you promised him you could fix his car.
Charles hadn't seen you at breakfast, so he just assumed that you had headed in early.
But as Charles walked in, he could see his Ferrari looking brand new. And you were nowhere to be seen.
Charles spotted a post-it note stuck to the car, taking a tentative step forward. Gently pulling it off, Charles recognised your handwriting.
'All done! She's ready for your race x.' Charles read. Grinning to himself, he picked the note and searched for you.
But Charles couldn't find you anywhere. And no one had seen you. However, they were singing your praises for fixing his car. Frederic Vasseur had even gone to sing your praises to the rest of the world. Happily dropping the bombshell that Charles would still be racing, much to everybody else’s dismay.
Eventually, Charles had to give up on his search for you and retreated to his driver's room.
Opening the door, Charles swung his bag around to throw it on the sofa. Thankfully he caught himself in time as he spotted your prone figure curled up on his sofa.
Dropping his bag to the floor, Charles pulled his hoodie out. Laying it over your asleep body, he placed a gentle kiss on your cheek. Murmuring a quiet thank you.
Charles then left the room to warn everybody where you were. And unsurprisingly, no one suggested waking you up. After all that you had done, people didn't mind. After looking at the timings of some of the data logs, they were glad you were catching up on some sleep.
When Charles told Vasseur, all he did was shrug. Say that you probably needed it, and he would send you back to the hotel to sleep in a proper bed when you woke up.
And you did emerge not five minutes later. The hustle and bustle of the Ferrari garage coming to life, waking you up.
When you appeared at the entrance to the Ferrari garage, everybody burst into applause. You just looked slightly startled. Your hair slightly messed up from sleep and Charles's hoodie dwarfing you.
"Am I late?" You asked, horrified. "I could have sworn I only closed my eyes for five minutes."
"Your not late, mon amour," Charles assured you as he sidled up to you. "We are cheering you on for fixing my car."
"That was nothing," you waved them off. Embarrassed as your cheeks went a shade of red to envy the car you had given your night up for.
"It's not nothing," Charles told you. "It's everything. Because of you, I can compete in the grand prix."
"He's right," Vasseur told you from where he had appeared. "Now go back to the hotel and sleep."
"Yes, sir." You nodded to Vasseur. Knowing better the to argue. Especially as you could feel a yawn clawing its way up your throat.
Turning, you retreated to grab your stuff from Charles's driver's room.
"Sorry for falling asleep in your driver's room." You apologised.
"Don't worry, mon amour." Charles assured you. "I'm sure you needed the sleep." Gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear Charles smiled down at you. "Thank you so much for fixing my car," Charles said. His voice was a reverent whisper as he placed a feather-light kiss on your cheek. "Now go back to your hotel and get some sleep. Charles ordered gently.
Nodding, you bashfully smiled up at him before retreating out of the garage once again, with everybody cheering you and congratulating you as you left.
#f1#f1 imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x y/n#Imagine#x reader
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More Papa Headcanons!
PLATONIC Papa!Alastor & GN!Child!Reader
Angst Flavored~
First Part
TW: ANGST- Just a teeny tiny bit. For the soul. Oh and Susan is mentioned.
A/N: Enjoy~
I usually leave this part up to you guys, the readers of my ramblings, but what if you were born out of wedlock? You are technically Alastor’s bastard child. Especially during that time period? That was greatly frowned upon and you never knew who your mother was! But despite all of that, Alastor and his Mom adored you. (Don’t get me wrong she probably chewed his ass out for it but she adored you.)
Now, as you grew older people started saying it to your face, even kids at your school. But everytime you brought it up to Alastor he got angry, not at you, so he teaches you how to defend yourself and makes sure that you know to never start a fight.
But once in hell, the name still sticks. Susan once overheard Alastor and Rosie’s conversation about it and called you that to your face. (Mean ass old woman right there.) And to say you were upset was an understatement, you knew better than to get into adult’s business but you just ran to your Papa sobbing cause you had thought you escaped that treatment. Despite being in Hell. You’re just clinging to his pants as you try your darndest not to cry but gosh the words keep echoing, both Rosie and Alastor are immediately worried about you. Cause you never cry or cause too much trouble!
Once they hear what Susan said? Rosie has to keep Alastor from flipping his lid. You stay by his side the rest of the day too scared to go play with the other kids in Cannibal Town. It shouldn’t bother you too much but you’ve been called that your entire few years of living and now it’s followed you down to Hell? What if the others start doing such a thing?
Not to worry, Auntie Rosie shuts the whole thing down if she even catches a whiff of it.
NOW ONTO NICER THINGS-
Full credit to @aceblaze01 for the idea of Vox being in Child!Reader’s afterlife! Especially when he and Alastor were hanging out(idk if I should call them partners). He was like an odd Uncle to you! Also 100% would let you watch kids cartoons on his screen, but you were so confused by it that you stood there staring at him before finally getting comfortable to sit down and watch those weird picture shows your papa talked about. He would totally put on Disney films for you.
You watched Bambi once and ended up crying. He had to hold you and calm you down before Alastor was alerted. After that he stuck with everything else but Bambi.
You sometimes go with Alastor to Overlord meetings and sit next to him drawing, not paying any mind to what’s going on either. You mostly draw your Papa and Auntie Rosie but you’ve started to draw Vox and that man cries when you hand him the drawings of him with very shaky handwriting and misspelled words. He loves it and keeps it hung up on his wall framed and everything. You gave a drawing to a lot of the nicer Overlords as a thank you for letting you join with your Papa. You gave one to Zestial, Carmilla and many of the unnamed ones that didn’t look too scary..you gave those to your Papa so he can give it to them.
Even after all those years and Alastor’s falling out with Vox as a whole, he kept your drawings still safely framed. He doesn’t have the heart to get rid of them. Valentino said one bad thing about them and got the shock of his afterlife. That’s the last time he brought it up. He still checks up on you, makes sure you're alright. Even though he can’t physically be next to you cause Alastor would lose his fucking shit, he makes sure he has people check up on you.
Vox has killed people who even thought of putting a hit out on you before Alastor ever caught wind about it. He’s not a man to play around with when it comes to you- his little niece/nephew/nibling (gender neutral term for niece/nephew).
During exterminations? Alastor stays with you the whole time. He doesn’t need anything hurting you. He keeps you in his room with books and anything else you want to bring. When you're in the hotel and extermination is around the corner, while the hotel is relatively safe. He still makes sure you stay far away from any doors leading to the outside.
Oh boy, you are the only one able to sit in his tower with him while he works! He has a chair designated for you and will answer any and all questions about his work (even if they do get silly and repetitive). You’ll fall asleep sometimes when he’s on air and he doesn’t miss a beat wrapping his jacket around you as he continues to talk.
Taglist: @littledolly2345, @aboyscriminalrecord
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#gn reader#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x you#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor#platonic#child reader
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It takes a while before Eddie catches up to what’s happening. It’s subtle, really, an untold story in slightly averted gazes and barely-visible scowls. But he starts paying extra attention to it when he catches Steve resolutely facing the other way when they pass a storefront with a couple of mirrors in it. From that moment, it doesn’t take long before Eddie notices the pattern, the way Steve meticulously avoids basically every reflective surface like it’s becoming a second nature for him.
When he finally asks Steve about it, Eddie sees how his face drops, and he kind of wishes he hadn’t brought it up. It pains him to see Steve like that.
‘I just - I don’t really recognize myself, anymore,’ Steve says. ‘I know it’s really fucking superficial, but I used to be this hot dude, you know. The guy everyone wanted to be with. And now I’m just some guy, with glasses and hearing aids and a belly and a retreating hairline, and a gross scar around his neck.’
Eddie can actually feel his heart shrink in his chest. He hates this for Steve. He wants to make clear to his boyfriend exactly how beautiful he still is, not despite, but exactly because of all the things he just mentioned.
'Those things can still go together, you know,’ he says, playfully shoving his shoulder against Steve’s, pressing a quick kiss against the scar on his neck. ‘If you ask me, you’re still the hottest dude in all of Hawkins. You’ll always be.’
And slowly, a smile starts creeping over Steve’s face. ‘You sure about that?’
Eddie nods, not looking away. ‘Hundred percent.’
Since that day, Eddie starts keeping a stack of post-its and a pen in the bathroom. Every night before he goes to bed, he sticks a new note on the bathroom mirror: “I love the color of your eyes.” “I love your soft tummy.” “Your hearing aids make you look like a sexy cyborg.” “Did you know your nose looks biteable AF?” “Your moles are more beautiful than any constellation.” The stream of compliments is endless, but not once does Eddie have to make an effort to come up with something new.
And that’s how the mirror stops being Steve’s enemy. Because ever since the first note, it’s become his new favorite thing to look in the mirror, the very first thing he wants to do when he wakes up in the morning. The messages always manage to surprise him, tirelessly keep pointing out new things about him, always in the most Eddie-ish way possible: funny, sweet, unhinged, caring, horny, genuine... And always so full of love. The one thing he can always count on.
But one morning, a day after he and Eddie got into a heated fight with each other, Steve steps into the bathroom with dread clawing at his stomach. He knows the mirror will be empty. Eddie was so fucking angry at him last night.
Unexpectedly, he does spot a note, a purple post-it with Eddie’s handwriting on it. He feels the overwhelming urge to cover his eyes, because this time, there will be something mean on it, no doubt. Eddie will tear apart what used to be the best part of Steve’s day with one single sentence. He steps closer, swallows, gets ready to face the music.
“I’m still mad at you but godDAMN why do you look so fucking HOT when you’re shouting at me that’s fucking unfair.”
Steve stares at the note for a full five minutes before taking it off the mirror and adding it to his ever-growing post-it collection. He’s completely overwhelmed by the love Eddie showed him even while he was angry. By the certainty behind that simple gesture. The unwavering commitment in Eddie’s actions.
Steve wakes Eddie up with a kiss and a cup of coffee. They talk it out, like they always do, and he buys a ring for Eddie the next day.
#tw body issues#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#fruity ficlet
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Aight, the Yuusona is done and posted, now my Pomefiore Oc!
Hayeli Callem
17 years old, 2nd year
Pomefiore, based on the Evil Queen's mirror
Originally from a border of the Scalding Sands
He/him
Signature Spell : Kaleidoscope Divine
-allows Hayeli to reproduce any kind of magic (even other Signature Spells) for a maximum of 15 seconds
-the stronger the magic, the shorter the time
-for other Signature Spells, Hayeli must have already seen said SS used in full without interruption
-for other Signature Spells, the original user must be in Hayeli's field of view
-Example: Hayeli can use Riddle's Off With Your Heads for about 10 seconds while Riddle is around, before the collar gets dismissed entirely.
-so far Hayeli has only ever managed to use Kaleidoscope Divine on others' Signature Spells on 5 different occasions only (one of which being Riddle's Off With Your Heads)
-Hayeli usually only uses it to copy regular spells he hasn't yet mastered, or to confuse his opponents long enough for him to run away
-Hayeli thinks his Signature Spell is useless because it has too many strict requirements
Originality? Don’t know him.
If you ask him, Hayeli will say he was probably cursed as a child, because he is simply unable to do anything on his own without having seen someone else doing it first. He always needs to copy others to achieve anything, and became so good at it that he can replicate someone’s mannerisms or handwriting in a glance. If he is around someone long enough, he can even replicate their accent. (To Vil’s horror, he is able to replicate both Epel and Rook’s accent, and he can even do mashups!)
Unlike for his Signature Spell, he doesn't need others to be around while he copies things. Once he’s replicated the skill once, he can do it again whenever (but always the very way he’s copying. Should he learn to draw from one specific person, he won’t be able to draw in any other style.)
He hides it a lot but he is constantly angry that he can never be his own person. He isn’t even sure who he IS! As far as he knows he’s just a walking, talking mirror.
OFF/ON modes
In Hayeli’s words : “The OFF mode is just when my stupid gimmick finally lets off.” When nobody is around for him to copy, Hayeli reverts back to his “natural state” which tends to be quite pessimistic and cynical. He grumbles a lot and gets frustrated regularly but at least he gets to be “him” (whoever that is) for a night. When in OFF mode he tries to do as little as possible, usually just reading novels or meditating, because every other skill he has comes from copying others.
The ON mode depends on whoever he spends the most time with. Pomefiore has a rather unique effect on his behavior. Should he stay around Savanaclaw students for any prolonged time for whichever reason though, he will naturally shift his attitude to match the more rugged and sporty behavior of beastmen. Hayeli has little to no control over his copying and regularly gets upset about it.
These days, since Pomefiore is taking a huge place in his life, he will be obviously (and obnoxiously) acting like a cliché Pomefiore student even when spending a lot of time with others.
The copying comes gradually the more time he spends with someone and takes as much time fading once he stops frequenting that person.
Random facts:
-Despite Vil's best efforts to improve Hayeli's skin, he is cursed with a heavy bout of acne and very red cheeks. Hayeli learned all his makeup skills by copying Vil and the contrast between his usual face and his makeup-ed one is so staggering people tend not to recognise him. He actually has a lot of fun with it.
-Hayeli gets regular headaches when there are too many people around him because his gimmick cannot decide on who to copy and makes ridiculous mashups.
-He has absolutely no shame cheating for tests by copying others. He was once caught by Trein.
-His pupils are naturally white and strangely shaped
-Vil has forbidden him from frequenting Azul and Sebek because he becomes the worst version of them with his copy gimmick
-He and Epel act like older/younger siblings
-His Signature Spell doesn't work on Ortho due to his robotic nature, and he has a hard time using it on Faes
-Hayeli is very eloquent and has a lot of vocabulary. Sometimes he speaks in rhymes without realizing
-He has a grand total of 16 moles on his body
#unlike Yuu I don't ship Hayeli with anybody#I'm more interested in the unhinged shenanigans his gimmick can create when he's around others#mello's drawings#twisted wonderland#twst#twst oc#pomefiore oc#pomefiore#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#art#my art#twst Hayeli
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Dark Horse- A Mother
Part 2
Reader is a single mother, working double shifts at a restaurant. Father of the child starts to become a problem while reader is at work and Price offers a solution. Slight age gap between reader around 25 and Price around 35.
How ironic it was to be back at home emptying out the lunchbox that had started it all. Feeling petty that you were angry like it had forgotten its own self on the counter. Taking out the sandwich you had made the night prior and throwing it away. Turkey, cheese, and miracle whip. Abel's favorite. Starting all over, your mind trying to find work as a distraction from the entire day’s events. Lunchbox packed and, in the fridge, note on the door so not to forget it in the start of the chain tomorrow. Work finished.
And then the fleeting thought made its way back to you. Engaged. You were engaged. Something you thought would never happen because you have never had time to consider it, let alone dating.
John had passed you his phone number scribbled on a piece of paper. How very old school of him, you thought to yourself accepting it before placing it in your apron pocket mixed in with your tips. It was now back in your fingertips, passing it around to look at it closer. The man had handwriting of a serial killer... Could you be marrying a serial killer?
Shaking your head, riding yourself of such a thought. No, John was not a serial killer.... least not the kind that stalked its prey and killed the next victim- you told yourself, typing what you thought was the phone number into your phone Never really knowing much about him, you could tell he was at least military, but what exactly?
John? the text you sent to the number hoping you had read it right.
Yes? was the single worded answer. Sighing with relief, you were glad it was him, not ready to keep taking the chance of a random stranger.
I could barely read your writing.
Been told it's bad before. And then a time or two after that. He responded back and you can hear the slight chuckle in his voice.
Get the boy in bed? He messaged right after.
Yes, he's sleeping now. Just got his lunch packed.
Good, you should be in bed too. Oh my god, you thought to yourself now worried he was thinking of you in bed. Glancing at the time, after your nightly routine was done you saw the clock on the wall read almost 11:30. He was probably just being practical.
Heading there now, thank you.
For what?
Everything.
Get some sleep, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon.
Yeah, like you were going to sleep after everything that had happened today. Giving it an attempt, you crawl under the covers after starting the washer to try to get a jump start of the home work load. Closing your eyes, making the room dark, you pretended if anything to get sleep.
***************************
"Abel!" You shouted, pulling the clothes out of the dryer you had moved during your insomnia caused by your worry battle. "Time to get a move on." Grabbing a warm towel, you hung it on the hook outside of the shower.
"We're going to be late." You said still trying to usher him. Watching his little hand slip out past the shower curtain, feeling for the warm towel.
"Thanks momma," he said muffled through the towel.
It wasn't shortly after he found you fully clothed with his bookbag and the condemned lunchbox in your hand by the front door. Slipping on his shoes he took the bag, slipping it over his shoulders, standing up shouting he was ready.
Locking the door behind you, he sprinted down to the sidewalk ready for you. Grin beaming almost as bright as the morning sun.
"Will that man come see you again today?" he asked as you walked next to him.
Struggling to find the courage to answer him, you realized he was paying more attention than you had thought. "He is."
"Will he be there when I get there?"
"Probably, and I think we will be seeing more of him overall."
"Why?"
"Well... him and I are going to get married."
"Married!? Like a mom and a dad together?"
"Yes, but he is not your dad. Your dad will always be your dad."
Abel looked down kicking a rock.
"I wish he was better to you, momma." And your heart fractured at the statement. Your hand found his chin, tilting it up so he looks at you.
"I wish he was too," your voice quietly fighting the tears that stung your eyes, "but take it as a lesson Abel. If you ever find love, be sure to treat them better then what you have been shown."
Abel gave a single nod, understanding the weight of your statement. He has always been a kid that is easy to talk to.
Going your separate ways, he gave your middle a squeeze, head buried in your abdomen before saying goodbye. Leaving you alone to finish your walk on your way to work.
***************************
Coffee pots are already brewing, turning on the grill top and fryer for your cook. You were ready to roll.
Morning shift went quick, the restaurant running like a well-oiled machine from your efforts. No phone calls from the school today, further easing your confidence that everything was going to be alright. Abel with his dad like the custody agreement states while you're at work. That feeling of confidence quickly left you though, as Abel's homeroom teacher walked in. Mrs. Karim. Eyes locking with her, you meant her almost at the front door.
"Everything ok?" You asked familiar enough with her to know she wouldn't have been here for nothing.
"Relax," she said with a warm laugh. "Not everything that happens has to be bad." She teased placing a hand on your shoulder making you take a deep breath in. "I came to bring you something," she said handing you a student made project. It was a heart with 2 paper doors that you could open.
"We made these for Mother's Day, and I really wanted you to see what your son wrote."
Each individual line was something Abel had written about you. A scribble that you could decipher with ease, seeing it change and grow as he got older.
I love my mother because:
She makes sure I have food every day.
She makes sure I have a warm towel after every shower.
She walks me to school every morning.
She hugs and tells me she loves me every day.
She tucks me into bed every night.
Instantly the tears are hot on your face and grinning like the Cheshire cat. How much you loved that boy.
"Thank you," you said wiping your tears off with your hand.
"Figured you needed it," she said patting your shoulder again letting on she knew more then what you thought, but not pestering further. "You're a good mom." Making you nod as she left, continuing about her time off.
Turning around, you saw Kate standing leaning against the counter.
"Can we get one day in without you crying?" she teased.
"Fuck off," you chortled. Stepping past her, you saw John sitting at the said counter. He must of snuck in.
"You, ok?" he asked, hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee.
"Yeah," you said sliding the heart to him to look at. "Look, his handwriting looks like yours." You teased implying he had the handwriting of an 8-year-old.
Taking it in his hands he opened the doors of the heart, smiling as he read it too. "Maybe you could give me lessons then." Eyes drifting up to yours as your heartbeat faster, rattling your ribs. They look so blue even through his long brown lashes. A simple “ha-ha” left your mouth unable to find anything else back to say to flirt with him.
"Well, hopefully I can give you something else that makes your day," he said sliding a little black box towards you on the counter. You felt almost dirty accepting it, knowing what was on the inside but still did it anyway. Opening it and looking down, before handing it back to John, unsure of where to go from there.
It was a simple pearl on a gold band. "Was my mother's." He said taking it out of the box, hand extended out for yours. Handing him your left hand, you let him slip it on the ring finger. "Figure if this happening, will make it official." Rendered speechless, you searched to find anything to say.
"What was she like?"
"My mother?"
"Yeah."
"A good mother. Lot like you." He said his answer was plain and simple. His thumb stroking over the back of your hand, back and forth over the ring.
It was like you were made of butterflies and birds. The fluttering beneath your skin, in your chest and stomach, rising and lowering. Were you floating right now? Breaking eye contact, you looked down at your feet grounding yourself. Kate is coming up and giving you a light shoulder check.
"Hate to interrupt your love bird’s moment, but the dinner rush is starting."
"Right," you said fingers squeezing John's hand before getting started. Placing an order for his regular, planning to at least feed him for everything he has done, you got to work taking your tables.
As skilled as you were, you had fumbled a few orders. Forgetting things, not filling drinks right away. But the heavy ring on your finger throws off your game. You would stare at it next to the pen and pad as you would take the order. As simple as it was, it was so beautiful. The glimmer catching your eye every now and then as if you were a bird. Something unfamiliar in the familiar. The lack of tips showed for it. Yes, you were floating because you were riding cloud 9.
Streetlights were starting to come on outside, signaling it was now getting close to closing time. Restaurant now empty, John the only "customer" inside. The door jingling open caught your attention as you saw Abel slip in, heading straight for you. Kneeling you hugged him squeezing him tighter than he was you making him laugh.
"What the fuck is that??" Your ex's voice fills your ears covering the laughter. Glancing up you were shocked to see him in your place of work. Generally, he steered clear, letting you at least have home and work to yourself. But after yesterday he apparently wanted to keep whatever his problem was going.
"What are you talking about?" You asked standing up, slipping Abel behind you, and pushing him lightly to the counter. Thankfully Kate was already waiting for him, hands outstretched with fingers waggling to get him away from verbal altercation.
"On your finger." He said pointing before reaching and snatching for your left hand. Pulling it away from him, you cradled it to your chest. The ring pressed as far inwardly as you could get it.
"Hands off her," John said arm in front of you slowly pushing you behind him like you had just done with Abel. Your right hand rested on his waist, letting him know you were still there with him.
"You can't be serious," your ex said over John's shoulder trying to talk to you.
"The way you treat her ends now. You will no longer be speaking to my soon-to-be wife that way. You'll get your time in court." John said taking a step closer, almost chest to chest.
The door jingled again, and you noticed the three that followed John around standing behind your ex. They crowded him, keeping the situation under control, but willing to turn violent if the time came.
"Why don' ya step outside mate, and have a littl' chat with us?" The biggest one wearing all black said, gripping your ex's shoulder and pulling him out the door.
John followed making you call out to him, "John," your voice warned. "He's still the father to my child."
"Not gonna’ hurt him love, just gonna’ lay down some rules," he said pushing the door open with his back, following his other war dogs outside. He rounded the corner out of your sight.
"You have my heart," Abel said pulling his classroom project to him, breaking you out of your thoughts.
"I always got your heart," you said leaning down kissing his head. "Start your homework while I clean and close up," you said roughing up his hair.
"Ugh...." he groaned, but doing as you said opening his bookbag.
After what felt like an eternity, you watched John come back in the other 3 following in behind him and sitting down at the counter.
"Can I feed them at least?" You asked referring to what they had just done.
"You don' feed the strays," he teased looking down the counter at them. "They ain't staying long anyways. Just enough to lock up and me to walk you home."
"You're walking me home?"
" 'Course I am, my ring your wearing wife to be." he bantered back to you making you go red. Using the excuse to have to go back into the kitchen and fill the mop bucket to hide it. Was useless, hearing the others snicker at your embarrassment.
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Taglist:
@cutiecusp
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#cod mw2#call of duty#call of duty mw2#captain john price x reader#captain#captain john price#captain price#john price#john price x reader#captain price x reader#task force 141#mw2#tf141#captain john price X female reader#john price x female reader#captain price x you#john price x you#call of duty x reader#cod#cod modern warfare#price cod#price#141#single mother
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➣ matchmaking or meddling?
pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader
word count: 1.6K
summary: you find out just how much your students have been meddling in your love life, though you can’t really be mad.
notes from lee: i’m afraid to make this look like an award acceptance speech so ill be brief. had to make a fic for the namesake of the blog and a very late hbd to boo (@2018-01-20). kinda wish i had more interactions with the kids, but i ended up w/ a lot of gojo pov also unedited
Looking back it should have been obvious what these kids of yours were up to. Yes, they were the reason you were in this god-forsaken closet with a blindfolded fool.
You’re only really aware of their meddling now as you hear their snickers from the hallway, so you can’t quite tell when their meddling started. But it makes sense that they were plotting something, but was it in collaboration with Satoru? Because it seemed like every mishap or coincidence between your two classes, Satoru took it in stride and turned it into his advantage. Just like he was taking advantage of the situation now…
Thinking back, your first clue should have been with the sticky notes. A note scrawled on a pink sticky note, in actually legible handwriting, addressed to you like a valentine. Reading, “from: Satoru ;D to: (y/n) <3; do you look this good every day or do i just not remove my blindfold enough????” It’s on top of a stack of papers handed over by the ever-stoic Fushiguro. Surely to get your guard down, and it did.
When you interrogate your fellow teacher about it later, he keeps his normal all-knowing grin plastered on his face. Now they, being the kids who orchestrated it, don’t need to do any work as every day after that there’s a new sticky note somewhere for you to see. They vary in color, most in some shade of pink, some with bad pick-up lines, others with a stick figure drawing, or the very rare ones hidden away with words that make you spit out your drink.
Or maybe another tip off should have been the ‘coincidental’ times you’d have the second years out on the training field and he just so happened to also plan a demonstration for the first years at the same time. But then again you don’t hear their snickering above your irritation at the white-haired man as he lets you jab a finger into his chest, with his annoying smirk.
But they notice you don’t care anymore that he peeks his head over your shoulder to look at your teaching outline just so he can do the ‘coincidental’ planning now.
And still the biggest hint that you fall for every time, is when they leave you at the cafe with just Satoru after begging for a weekend meetup. And again, when they ask to have team dinners, study sessions, or extra training, it's ridiculous. Your gullibility and trust in them is commendable, but it’s become laughable as you still trust in the kids to show up. And they do, just in disguise from across wherever you are as they watch Satoru come to your rescue every time.
Maybe the more ridiculous part is when the rare glimpse of their teacher’s eyes is pointed, peeking through their poorly crafted disguises, at them from across the room with a smirk.
He’s noticed for a while now that the kids are playing matchmaker, and their skills are much better than those his clan hires. And to be honest, he doesn’t mind, if anything he finds it cute that they think he needs the help. Though admittedly they do have some good ideas. Each one never fails to fluster you, in your own cute and angry way, as he takes over their schemes. His six-eyes catch the flurry of texts sent every time he does so, which he’s sure just encourages them further.
Satoru’s not quite sure when his feelings for you developed. He’s always found you attractive, especially when you were his cute kouhai (he still likes to call you that in order to annoy you until you begrudgingly call him senpai once again.). Everything he learns about you only adds to his initial interest. He’s a sucker for getting to know the little things, like your favorite dinner spot after a tough mission or what your ideal day off is. Once you accept his feelings he’ll put the knowledge you deem useless to good work.
But there’s a moment that sits so starkly in his memory as the first time he realized he was in love with you and not just intrigued or infatuated.
It was maybe around the time Tsumiki had gotten sick and though Megumi was self sufficient, Satoru didn’t feel that he should be alone. He knows he’s not the best at comfort, hell he could barely comfort himself, so he sends you.
And he’s not overly worried about you, you’re a teacher so he’s sure you’ll get through to the ever prickly Megumi just fine. Plus you’ve always been significantly better at handling emotional situations, he knows first hand. So when he comes to check on you after finishing his mission, he smiles at your success.
Megumi’s head rests on your lap, asleep, and you’re slumped over the armrest. There’s a twang of jealousy that pricks at his mind, wishing it was him in your lap instead, but all he can think about is having you greet him as he comes home and Megumi and Tsumiki sitting for dinner and that would be yours and his alone.
He’s never felt like someone that would settle down or want a family, especially given the circumstances of his status. But you, in this moment, make him want to move past the shrewdness of the higher ups and his clan, and just have you. He longs for something that is just his, not part of Jujutsu Society, the higher ups, or his clan, or even Satoru Gojo, he wants things just for Satoru, just for him.
You are that something, that someone, he wants, he’s convinced that he needs you like the air he breathes. The weird surge of emotions that have been kept bottled up since a dark day suddenly seems to make sense and it has a name, it’s love.
So when he’s reminiscing on his feelings, it really has been there all along, but it’s that very specific moment in which his love for you was defined.
And the apex of all his work in gently guiding you to realize your feelings, that he’s very sure are there, is in a closet of all places. His blue eyes glow dimly in the dark of the closet with the snickers of his students on the other side.
“Hey,” he breathes out, much less confident than he intended, but you make him nervous.
You meet his bright eyes briefly before looking away and returning the greeting, “Um, hi.”
His breath hitches and his mind blanks, every funny line or flirty remark he could make right now is gone. He can’t think about anything other than you, how cute your expression is, how good your hair looks even slightly messed up, but mainly your lips and how much he needs to kiss you before he leaves this cramped closet. “How are you?”
You blink at him incredulously, “We’re in a closet, Gojo. How do you think I am?”
He tosses his head back and groans as you use his last name, he thought he’d gotten you to call him Satoru like pretty much everyone did. “C’mon (Y/n), you know I hate when you call me that.” He whines and pouts, jutting his bottom lip out like a toddler.
He watches the guilt flash across your face briefly, surely it’s you remembering how he confided in you about hating the weight that came with his last name. “Sorry, I know. I know,” you pause and he senses your hesitancy and waits, “Satoru.”
He’s got a big shit-eating grin on his face that differs from his usual smirk as he rocks on his feet with his heart fluttering.
“You really like it that much when I call you ‘Satoru’?” You ask, eyeing up his body language with a skeptical look.
“Maybe.” He answers in a sing-song tone, he’s back to his usual self, “But you know what I’d like more?”
He leans in close and glances down at your lips. No matter how many times he does this, it always results in him pulling away with a teasing smile. So when he feels your hands wrap around the neck of his uniform and pull him closer, it’s certainly a surprise.
“You want a kiss?” You ask and he nods meekly, if possible, and you do, you kiss him. Satoru’s eyes flutter shut as his heart flutters in his stomach. His big hands reach up to cup your face and keep you glued to his lips. Gods, it’s everything he’s dreamed about and more.
When you part from him to catch your breath, he’s smiling. “I hope you know I want much more than a kiss.” He waits for you to breathe and to watch your reaction before smashing his lips onto yours again.
Satoru feels your arms wrapped around his neck and how your hands crawl through his undercut to tug at his hair. And he’s similar, the hands once holding your face have traced down your body to your hips so he can hold you close.
The knock on the door cuts your time short, your tongues and bodies having to part. Satoru watches as you smooth over your clothes and hair before he pulls up his blindfold. The door opens not a moment later to reveal the two classes waiting with bated breath to see something scandalous.
They are disappointed, fortunately for you and your image as a teacher. None of the students have the time to catch the heavy blush on his face as he slips away while you lecture them. But they do notice how flustered you are when you get a text from Satoru, “dinner 2nite?”
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#gojo#jjk#gojou satoru x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo#gojo x gender neutral reader#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x you#gojou satoru x y/n#! satoru gojo#[ lee's writing ]#[ + ] jjk
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PRICE OF FAME (PART 7/12)
AHHH HERE SHE IS, i hope you enjoyyy hehe <3
————
18+ — MINORS DNI
pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader
summary: you and eddie are back to square one...maybe
contains: enemies to lovers trope, themes of sexism/misogyny, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, some jealous!eddie, brotherhood, mentions of eddie's dad being shitty, mentions of a sick family member (reader's grandfather), flirting, and eddie being a sorry mf <3
word count: 4.2k
| previous part | next part |
| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |
Eddie very rarely finds the time to go to the studio by himself.
With the busy lifestyle he’s now adopted, he mostly gets his writing done on the road or when he can’t sleep. And Eddie can’t sleep tonight. He doesn’t want to sleep tonight. He can’t seem to find it in himself to give his body and mind the few hours of rest they plead for because Eddie— Eddie fucked up.
The studio is quiet— because nobody in their right mind comes to a recording studio at three in the morning— and Eddie begins to wonder why he even came here if he can’t write a single lyric. Every line that crosses his mind is too little, too much, too mundane— it’s all wrong. Everything is wrong, and Eddie wants to scream.
Eddie takes another hit of the burning cigarette, rubs his eyes in exhaustion, and places his used journal to the side in exchange for his guitar.
He sits on the couch, the quiet room filling out the whirlwind of unsaid words in Eddie’s mind. He strums a soft tune on the wooden instrument, eyes closed and legs propped up on the coffee table. It takes Eddie a few moments to open his eyes when he hears the door open, and he has to blink a few times to clear the fog of fatigue from his eyes.
And Eddie doesn’t even have the energy to roll his eyes and scoff at the sight of Gareth.
He keeps the cigarette between his lips and goes back to plucking his guitar strings, ignoring the shuffling sound of Gareth walking over.
Gareth is quiet for a long time until he clears his throat, “This is good.”
Eddie opens his eyes again and glances over at the brown-haired boy. Eddie’s face pinches in confusion before Gareth raises the journal, and Eddie huffs out a laugh. “No, it’s not.”
Gareth shakes his head, “No, it really is. I like this line,” he points to Eddie’s messy handwriting.
“It’s not going anywhere. I’ve been here for almost two hours.” Eddie brushes it off.
Eddie resumes his peaceful strumming, and Gareth— Gareth just can’t let it go. Because he misses his best friend more than anything in the fucking world, and it hurts. This hurts. The quiet and the unsaid— it hurts.
“I’m sorry.”
And Eddie thinks, fuck, not now.
“Man—” “No, Eddie I… I fucked up.” And Eddie glances at Gareth because Gareth sounds… Gareth sounds like he’s on the verge of something, something that Eddie has rarely seen from his friend.
“I really fucked up, man. And you don’t have to forgive me, but I don’t want you thinking I don’t regret it— because I do.” Gareth looks at Eddie. Clear eyes, so wide and full of what Eddie can only imagine to be sorrow. “I should’ve never done that to you, and I sure as hell shouldn’t have told her— especially because I hadn’t told you.”
And Eddie is so tired of being angry. He’s so tired of feeling the gaping and missing piece of his best friend— and sure, he wishes Gareth never went behind his back and fucked his ex, but he mostly just wishes things would return to normal.
Eddie is silent for a moment, and Gareth almost takes it as an answer, but Eddie finally says, “Did you really love her?”
If Gareth is shocked, he does an excellent job of not showing it. He only swallows and shifts in his seat, “I thought I did… I don’t know, maybe?”
He’s being careful, Eddie knows, and he can’t blame him for it.
“Do you still talk?” Eddie can’t help but ask because he needs to know. He needs to know so he can prepare himself for whatever bullshit he’ll go through later if he ever sees Chrissy again.
To Eddie’s relief, Gareth shakes his head, “No. Not since… no.”
Eddie nods and says nothing else while mindlessly playing his soft tune.
Gareth shifts beside him, glances down at the journal in his hands, and hums, “So… you gonna tell me who this is about?”
Eddie jokingly glares at Gareth and leans forward to set his guitar down. “S’nothing.”
“That’s a lie.”
Eddie raises an eyebrow at his friend, and Gareth takes a deep breath. “Look, man,” he places the journal down, “I’ve seen the way you look at her. And Jeff said he saw you—” “That motherfucker.” Gareth softly laughs but shrugs either way.
Eddie drags a hand over his face and sighs, “I don’t know, it’s… complicated.”
Gareth hums, like he doesn’t believe Eddie, “All I’m saying is if you like her as much as I think you do,” he gestures to the journal, “Then you better act quick.”
And Eddie knows Gareth is right— which is annoying, but he thinks he needs to hear it now more than ever.
Eddie’s not sure when he closed his eyes and dozed off, but by the time he opened them, it was the next day, and Jeff was standing over him with a sly grin. Eddie’s face is twisted in morning confusion and annoyance at Jeff’s proximity, and something heavy is leaning on his side and— “I see you and Gare-bear have made up.” Jeff tips his head to the right of Eddie, and Eddie glances over to where he’s motioned to find Gareth fast asleep with his body leaned against Eddie’s side.
Eddie groans and grimaces as he turns his head, a painful pinch resting at the top of his spine as he shoves his hand against Gareth’s shoulder, voice dry and scratchy from sleep as he speaks, “Shut the fuck up.”
Eddie’s arm tingles under the weight of Gareth, and he grunts, pushing harder at his shoulder, “Gareth, get off me, man; I can’t feel my fucking arm,” Eddie grumbles, shoving the boy off of him, grimacing when Gareth grunts in protest.
Jeff snickers and looks around the room; sheets of paper are scattered across the coffee table, empty beer bottles are strewn on the floor, and a guitar with a busted string lies on the other couch. “Jesus, did I miss the party?” Jeff teases, kicking at an empty beer can as he walks over to the sheet of music on the soundboard, picking it up and glancing over the words.
“What’s this?” Jeff wonders aloud. Gareth opens an eye to see what Jeff is talking about and shifts in his seat as he answers, “Eddie’s apology to the journalist.”
Eddie wipes drool from his mouth as he sits up, leaning over to sift through the rubble for his pack of cigarettes, “Birdie.” He mumbles as he shoves a stick between his lips and lights the end. “Yeah, Birdie.” Gareth sleepily mumbles.
Jeff laughs as he reads over the half-assed written letter. “How drunk were you two shitheads?” He wonders, eyebrows raising at one particular sentence. “And what’d you do that made you finally realize you’re an asshole?”
And Eddie thinks Jeff is asking a lot of questions right now, and Eddie doesn’t have the mental capacity to digest any of them. Gareth snickers beside Eddie, shaking his head with a shrug, moving through Eddie’s cloud of smoke to reach for a beer can, shaking it to see if there’s any drink left before sipping on whatever's there before speaking, “What didn’t he do?” He jokes.
Eddie kicks his heel into the brown-haired boy’s shin, ignoring the spew of curses Gareth sends his way. Jeff tosses the paper back onto the soundboard and turns to the two boys, “Does this have anything to do with her trying to drop the article?”
Gareth shrugs, uninterested in whatever Jeff is insinuating, but the question seems to wake Eddie up quicker than the slow-burning stick between his fingers. “What are you talking about?”
Jeff looks at Eddie as if he’s asked him what two plus two is, “You don’t know?”
Eddie tilts his head, a confused look on his face, irritation lingering on his tone, “Know what, Jeff?”
Jeff’s eyebrows raise, and he lifts his hands in surrender, “Look, Naomi and Birdie were talking at breakfast, and she told Naomi that she’s thinking of dropping the article.” “What do you mean dropping the article, Jeff?”
Jeff gazes at Eddie like he’s lost his mind, “Honestly, man, I don’t know why you’re freaking out when this is literally what you wanted ever since she came along.” He points out, calmly sitting in the desk chair by the soundboard. “I mean, yeah,” Eddie stresses, “But that was before— fuck,” Eddie rubs a hand over his face as he plops back into the plush couch with a heavy sigh. “Before?” Jeff wonders aloud.
“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie snaps.
Gareth snickers again, glancing at Eddie’s depleted state before glaring at Jeff, “Before Eddie fell in love.” He childishly giggles. Eddie glares at his friend, finally finding his shoes and hastily shoving them on, “I’m not in love with her, you fucking idiot,” He swats at Gareth, “I just…” Eddie glances between his two friends before sighing, rubbing his hands over his face again and resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s complicated, okay?”
“Didn’t seem that complicated when I walked in on you two.” Jeff points out, to which Gareth’s jaw drops as he turns to Eddie, “No fucking way. You boned the journalist?—” “Birdie.” “—And Jeff walked in on it? You didn’t tell me that last night!” He exclaims.
Eddie grimaces at Gareth’s words and the fact that he won’t just say your name because, for some weird and obnoxious reason, it pisses Eddie off. “Because it wasn’t like that.” Eddie shakes his head. Jeff makes a face, and Eddie rolls his eyes, “It wasn’t,” Eddie repeats, “Not that it’s any of you fucking losers' business.”
Eddie tries so hard not to seem distracted when they start working on their last song of the album. He tries to put his entire mind, body, and soul into the words and the chorus, but he can’t. Eddie’s mind is somewhere else, wasting away trying to find a way to say sorry and get you to change your mind about abandoning your project because, sure, Eddie’s an asshole when he wants to be, but he has some inkling of remorse and human feelings. He has the ability to feel sorry and know when he’s crossed a line, and clearly, Eddie is far beyond the line.
Eddie’s stomach churns when he thinks about the last night: the look on your face and the tone of your voice, the unmistakable sniffle as you wiped away a stray tear. And Eddie really is a jackass, isn’t he?
Making a kind girl like you cry, telling her she’s ruined everything when all she’s done is stay true to her task. It’s Eddie who’s led you astray, who’s tempted you and poked and prodded until you cracked— and, god, Eddie feels sick to his stomach.
Eddie remembers how that feels. To be pushed and shoved to your breaking point, to where someone breaks you down to the point of giving up. Eddie knows that feeling so well; he dealt with it for so long as a kid before Wayne took him in. Eddie remembers how useless he would feel, how his father would tell him he was stupid and naive for thinking he could be something. And it’s difficult to ignore those harsh words when it’s repeated over and over in your ear, and Eddie can’t believe he let himself do that to you.
Eddie’s kind of frantic when he walks up to you at rehearsals.
He’s fidgety, and he’s aching for a cigarette, and his heart is racing in his chest because Eddie’s not the best at apologies, but he’s also not very fond of the idea of you not being here anymore. As much as Eddie hates to admit it, he likes you being here— because watching you, hearing you, and seeing how you move about a room is addicting. It’s a movie, a show that gets better with every episode, and Eddie has tried so hard to lie and say he can’t stand the show, but fuck, he’s hooked.
You look tired today, uncharacteristically quiet and reserved, making Eddie all the more nervous to break the slight trance you seem to be in. Your lashes flutter as you blink up at him when he approaches you in the backstage hallway, “Can we uh— can we talk?”
You don’t seem eager when he asks, and you don’t sound it either when your eyebrows furrow in distress, and you shake your head, “Honestly, Eddie, I’m not in the mood—” Eddie shakes his head, tone sincere and eyes holding no trace of mischief, “No, I promise it’s not…” Eddie trails off, and you raise your eyebrow, growing impatient with his hesitance.
“It’s about the magazine.” He rushes out. You look confused and unconvinced— and there’s so much going on in the background; staff calling out demands, crew members scrambling to get things done, and Eddie just can’t fucking think. “Well, it’s about you, but it’s also about the magazine— can we step outside?”
Eddie looks away in embarrassment because Eddie doesn’t get flustered very easily these days— there’s not much to get flustered over when you’ve seen it all— but again, Eddie doesn’t do this often— and his neck is heating up, and he knows his cheeks are turning an embarrassing shade of red because you’re looking at him like he’s the biggest idiot known to man.
Eddie drags in a steady breath, teeth digging into his bottom lip, and he grumbles lowly enough for you to hear, thumb brushing the tip of his nose once before speaking, “Come on, don’t make me beg.”
You scoff at that, arms crossing over your chest as you push past him and storm towards the exit, and Eddie follows with a shaky breath.
When Eddie steps out into the alleyway of the venue, you’re leaning against the wall with a deep frown etched across your lips, and Eddie’s fingers twitch for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. You glare at him, “What’s wrong with you?” You snap. Eddie looks at you silently for a moment, confusion written across his face as he speaks, “Huh?”
You glare as you speak, “You’re being weird.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and clears his throat, shifting on his feet before he starts, “Listen, I uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I know we don’t get along and shit but just…” Eddie ignores it when you roll your eyes, “Don’t drop the magazine because of me.”
You’re silent then, for much longer than Eddie would like you to be, and Eddie is thoroughly confused when you scoff, “Excuse me?”
Eddie stuffs his hands in his pockets and glances around the empty alleyway, “Look— believe it or not, we actually kind of need this, and the boys will fucking kill me if I screw it all up, so just… I’m sorry, okay?”
And technically, it’s the truth. It might not be the whole truth as to why Eddie has pulled you aside, but at least there’s some truth to it… right?
You don’t seem too appeased with Eddie’s half-assed apology, considering the way your face doesn't even flinch for what seems like decades. “Well, for starters, I’m not dropping out of the magazine,” and Eddie doesn’t want to unpack the reasoning behind why the tension in his shoulders eased, “And the only reason why I had even debated doing so is because my grandfather is sick, not because some douchebag artist pissed me off.” You snap.
Eddie feels like an ass.
No, he feels worse than an ass, whatever that may be. Eddie feels like he’ll maybe just go back to the hotel and sew his mouth shut because the one time that Eddie tries to fix things, his tongue flaps and spews out bullshit, and then he’s further in the ground than he was, to begin with.
Eddie’s not sure what to do or say because, honestly, he didn’t even think of the possibility that he’s not the reason for you dropping the magazine, and Eddie only then realizes how selfish of a mistake this was. “Can I be honest with you, Eddie?”
Even though you sound and look like you could stab him right now, Eddie thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking. Your eyes are so alive beneath the light of day, and a gentle breeze carries your scent to wrap around Eddie in a dizzying manner. His heart races, and Eddie feels… small.
He hasn’t felt this way in a long time, like he’s damaged things to the point of no return, and it’s all his fault— and usually, it never actually was Eddie’s fault, but this… Eddie can wholeheartedly admit he’s at fault for the agitated look you’re giving him— and Eddie doesn’t know what to do.
Still, Eddie nods— because what else can he do?
“I think we should keep the one-on-ones to a minimum. Better yet, let’s just stop it as a whole.”
“What?”
You take a deep breath, gaze dancing away, seemingly anxious to flee the scene as you speak, “I don’t think this is benefiting either of us— this back and forth. I have work to get done, and honestly, there’s nothing more that I need from you aside from when I interview the band as a group— and seeing as you hate me and I hate you, why don’t we just make our lives easier and stay out of each other's way?”
This isn’t how Eddie imagined things going.
Eddie imagined he would say sorry, and you would give him a pretty smile, and things would go back to… well, not normal, but perhaps something a little better than normal. This is worse than normal. This is so left field of what Eddie had imagined, and Eddie can’t bring himself to say anything.
So, instead, Eddie nods, mumbles a quick agreement, and says nothing more as you leave.
Days pass slower than usual, and you find ways to get busy outside of drafting the magazine. You take frequent walks in Central Park to clear your mind and spend many nights talking to your family over the phone.
Your grandfather is old, and it’s no surprise to the family that he’ll soon see the end of his days, but your mom immediately told you no when you said you would be coming home after getting word of his current state. You weren’t particularly close to your grandfather; you really only saw him once a year around holidays, but you felt the need to be there for your mother, to offer her a shoulder to cry on. However, your mother, ever the sweet lady she is, insisted she would be more than okay with the support of your father and younger sister and demanded that you stay in New York to finish your project.
Still, even though you called home every night, you felt the distance with each goodbye. It ached to be so far from your family at such a time, but the world won’t stop just for you, and time is of the essence in your line of work.
Despite the somewhat gloomy past days you’ve had, each show has given you a moment to breathe and take your mind off the stresses of life. There are two shows of the residency left now, and the boys of Corroded Coffin seem more pumped than ever for the two big nights.
You usually spend time before the show loitering in the green room or waiting out in the crowd, but today, you’ve chosen to have front-row tickets to the chaos that is Corroded Coffin’s dressing room.
There’s a thick fog of smoke dancing through the room; tobacco, weed, and alcohol drenching the walls with their smell as the boys and crew members share drinks and blunts and jokes. You, Jeff, Gareth, and James are gathered in front of the vanity— away from most of the chaos to enjoy light conversation— with Jeff and James sitting in the tall vanity chairs while you and Gareth stand between them both.
“I think we should play something off the new record tonight,” Jeff suggests. Gareth, who’s busy messing with his hair in the mirror, finds the time to respond, “I kind of wanted to do something old. Maybe even a cover?”
James raises an eyebrow, reaching forward onto the vanity desk for a black eyeliner pencil, “You guys are on in like fifteen, man. The stage crew is not gonna be happy about that.” James points out, inspecting the small item before popping the cap off. Gareth snickers as James attempts to apply the eyeliner, “When are they ever happy? Poor guys have to put up with our bullshit every day.”
Naomi comes to stand behind Jeff, draping her arms around his shoulders and resting her chin atop his head. Jeff smirks at her through the mirror, and she smiles, “You agree, right? We should play something new tonight?” Jeff asks his girlfriend, to which she shrugs and glances at both band members, “I don’t see why not. It’s the second to last show, and I’m sure the fans would love it.”
You look over to James as he curses to himself when the pencil tip breaks off. You snicker, not thinking twice, when you step forward to place a hand on his shoulder, “You’re pressing too hard.” You mumble as you gently grab the pencil from him. James watches as you turn to grab the pencil sharpener, shaving off the empty end of the stick until you can see the soft pencil again, “Aw, you’re gonna help me out?” He presses a hand to his chest as you roll your eyes. Whatever conversation Jeff, Gareth, and Naomi are having, you pay no mind to it anymore. “Shut up, take a seat.” You nod to the vanity chair.
James takes a seat, and you shake your head as you step forward, tipping his head back for a good angle as you say, “Remind me again how you’re an artist and still don’t know how to apply eyeliner correctly?” You mumble as you begin softly applying the makeup to his bottom lashline. James smirks, “I can’t be good at everything.” He jokes. You roll your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Just look up at the ceiling, please.”
And in the corner of your eye, you catch him— Eddie.
He’s watching you and James with the sharpest gaze you’ve ever seen— angry and daring, and it only falters when you turn to look at him. You don’t know why, but your heart seems to rise to your throat, and there is an annoying twist in your stomach when you see how his jaw ticks in anger. You don’t notice it until Eddie’s gaze flickers down, and you suddenly feel the warm heat of James' hand pressed against your waist.
Your body heats at the attention, and you shy away from Eddie’s accusing gaze, returning to your task. Your eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as you apply the makeup, and you try desperately hard to ignore the way James is gazing up at you or the gentle squeezes he gives you when you shift. What’s even harder to ignore is the hole Eddie is burning through your head— and god, why do you feel like this?
Why do you, for some odd reason, wish it was Eddie beneath you? Why do you wish it was Eddie’s hands touching you? Why do you wish Eddie’s brown eyes were gazing at you? Why do you wish it was Eddie’s warm skin beneath your fingertips?
Your body and heart want Eddie for selfish reasons, but deep down, you and Eddie both know it’s best not to venture down the short path you’d started. But that doesn’t mean you don’t think about it. That doesn’t mean you don’t think about what it would be like to have Eddie in all the sinful ways you’d both tasted.
You don’t hear James the first time, but your attention snaps back to him when he gently squeezes your hip, “Huh?” You blink.
James chuckles as you pause your task and gaze down at him. His gaze dances all around your face for a moment, pearly white teeth digging into his smile before he speaks again, “What are you doing tonight after the show?”
And god, why the fuck is James looking at you like that?
You shrug, “Um, I— I don’t know why?” You ask, finishing the last few touches on his makeup. James shrugs, watching as you stand up straight and put the cap back onto the pencil, “I was thinking maybe I can take you out? Like a date?”
You almost choke at that. Your eyes are wide as you blink at James, heart racing and mind a whirlwind of thoughts— and Eddie is still watching you.
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can say anything, Richie bursts through the door with a grin and an exclamation of two words.
Show time.
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part eight
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a/n: ANNNDDD HERE WE ARE, if you've made it to the end and see this, thank you for reading, ilysm and i appreciate any for of feedback, i love to here ur funny, sweet, and smutty thots <3 ALSO A BIG THANK YOU TO @siennamagee FOR THE IDEA OF THE SCENE WITH JAMES, ILY STINK <3 LET THE GROVELING BEGIN !!
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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2
@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner
#HMMMMM#ENJOYYYY#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie x reader#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson au#rockstar!eddie munson#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson smut#eddie x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson headcanon#eddie x fem!reader#stranger things au#rockstar!eddie x reader#rockstar!eddie smut#rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader#journalist!reader
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Jungkook
𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 3
How is he going to pull himself out of this one, when the signs all point to one thing?
Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, Angst [Tags will be different for every part!]
Length: 1k Words
There is no taglist for this fic.
Collab with @euphoricfilter ! 💜
-> Masterlist
A/N: hitting you with the double angst spicy meal today yum yum yum
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Going out without Jungkook isn't really fun at all- especially not when you're mad at him, and didn't even plan on going out anyways.
But you've been hoping at least a little bit deep down that it would help him realize that you're not gonna just stay home and be his maid all day- something that apparently had become his new reality. And when you come back home, there's hope- the lights are still on, bedroom door open as well. Has he been waiting? Is he gonna apologize for once?
You technically learned to always expect the unexpected with him during your relationship, but nothing could've prepared you for the sight you're witnessing inside the shared room- because he's fast asleep, snuggled beneath the covers as if there's nothing wrong at all.
The crushing devastation of that alone, the fact that he can just sleep while you've always stayed up, mind unable to rest if he's not in sight or near you, just too much to handle. You've got half a mind to just throw him out the bed, but he's got his weight and amount of hours in the gym on his side- it'd be too much of a hassle, and right now, you really don't want to deal with him any longer. So you just turn off the lights, take some blankets, and close the door to make yourself comfortable on the couch for tonight instead.
You just can't take this anymore.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
The next morning he's out already, having left you a note in messy handwriting about something needing to be shipped out, so he'd be back later today after bringing the packages to the post office. There's a wonky looking crying face drawn next to a 'sorry for last night', and you just crumple up the note to throw it into the trash, since that's all his words are to you at this point.
There has to be a reason he's acting like that- and you want to figure it out, even if you don't like what you'll discover.
Booting up his pc would take way too long since you're not sure how long he's gonna be out- and you also feel a little bad about invading his privacy like that, so you instead occupy yourself with putting the blankets away and at least making yourself late breakfast. But the laptop on the kitchen counter, left by him probably in a hurry, is too enticing to ignore.
It's still on standby too, blinking light on the side taunting you to open it up.
Giving into temptation, you open it- just to be faced with a screen that tells you it's locked by the main administrator. A passcode? Since when did he have that?
Jungkook and you have never really hidden anything from one another. He knows the passcode to your phone, and he even has your fingerprint and face-ID saved on his own- so why the sudden secrecy? It's clear from yesterday that he's keeping something from you, and you're not sure how to feel about that. Is he..
no. He wouldn't. Right?
Then again, he really just went from having sex almost daily and clinging to you at random times a day to zero libido and no interest whatsoever- so there must be something going on. Is he getting his fill somewhere else? Has he found someone who can love him better than you?
"I'm ba- oh?" He looks at you like the deer caught in the headlights same eyes and all, frozen in his spot as he caught you in the act, your angry face and stance obviously signaling your unhappiness still. Well, what did he think was going to happen? That you'd just accept his antics and not ask any questions? That some pancakes from your favorite place down the street are just gonna solve the situation he himself has been creating?
....a little. But he's not that stupid.
You storm off without a word, as he sighs and runs a hand over his face, putting the pancakes on the kitchen counter to instead shower first, needing to get his head free and reset his body so he can figure out a way to at least pacify your rage for now. He's so close to finally getting it done- you'll just have to wait a little longer, and he's gonna make it all worth it.
But to you, his shower doesn't look like just a need for a physical reset- it just seems to add color to your worst fear that's been brewing beneath your skin, poisoning the blood in your veins.
And when you take his phone from the bed, you're slapped right across the face again- as the phone doesn't recognize it at all, the password you're tapping in wrong just as much, causing the phone to vibrate and demand a proper input. This is stupid. Why is he suddenly hiding his every move it feels like? It can't be anything other than that- and yet you want to think it's not it. That he's not this heartless. He's always been a romantic and obsessed with true love- granted, his idea of romance was a little odd, but it was still uniquely his, and always honest and genuine.
He used to care about you so much. Where did that go?
When he steps out the shower, the round eyes make an appearance again, body running ice cold at the sight of you sitting on his bed with his phone in your hand. Fuck- what's he going to do now?
"Since when did you change your passcode?" You want to know, voice a lot more fragile than you hoped it would be. You don't want to seem so weak in front of him now. You want to scream and yell, in fact. Punch his stupid pretty face until he feels just as hurt as you do in this moment.
His lips part, but he's not saying anything.
"And since when did you lock your laptop?" You ask, but still- he doesn't give you an answer at all as he instead nervously licks his lips, and plays with the piercings.
And then, his phone vibrates- and it shows that he's not been as thorough in hiding as he thought he was. Because the messages and notifications are still displayed. And this message makes your stomach drop as you read it.
[Maria: Alright, I'm so excited! Next time let's d...]
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#bts jungkook imagine#bts smut#jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook x reader#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagines#jeon jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook smut#jungkook imagines#jungkook x y/n
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How are you feeling now, Bon?
Yeah don't worry, they're fine now, when your tummy is full you can't be mad, that's just science fact
________________
Okay ! Lots of stuff to say here ! There were some details I wasn't sure of about the lore of this mixed UT/ISAT universe, but recently I made myself a little memo of everything and I'm more sure of my stuff. So I made it clear in this one : Chara is here ! And they are here to help....maybe.
Siffrin thoughts and Chara's narration are kinda here at the same time...which must be super confusing to live honestly, but you can still see the difference. I will not develop here why Chara is with Siffrin instead of Frisk, but if you want a small explanation, their wishes mixed together
I personally think that there's a lot of ISAT stuff in this AU and not enough UT, so the next one (the one I really wanted to make for a while) will be more about UT, and it will be out...tomorrow ! Yep, I already started it before I decided to make that one first, so you'll have another answer really soon, whoo oh !
I hope you like this one for now though ! See you soon !
(Also did you notice the new brush I used this time ? I love it honestly, it looks super cool, I think I'll keep it)
_________________
DIALOGUES IN CASE YOU CAN'T READ MY HANDWRITING
1 :
Bonnie : Mh.........
2 :
Odile : Bonniface, I get that you are upset, but can you please be faster ? Even I don't walk that slow
Bonnie : I'm as fast as I can 'dile !...
3 :
Isabeau : Hey, Sif ? Sorry to bother ya but, huh... Could you talk to Bonbon ? I think they might need it...
Siffrin : Huh ? Why ? I'm not really the feelings person of the group
4 :
Isabeau : Listen buddy, I... I don't think I'm the good person to tell you about it. Just...talk to them, okay ? They'll tell you...eventually
Siffrin : Huh... Okay ? I'll go do that...
5 :
Mirabelle : Huh ? Why did we stop ? Siffrin ?
6 :
Siffrin : Heya Bonnie
Bonnie : ...Siffrin. What d'you want ?
7 :
Chara (internally): Oof, wow, such a sweet kid. They even "Siffried" you
Siffrin : It seems that you're still angry since you flee earlier, and that it's...kinda my fault ? I'm not sure to really understand, but huh, I'm sorry, for whatever happened. I didn't wanted to upset you.
8 :
Bonnie : Huh uh. Yeah, sure. I forgive you
Siffrin (internally) : It doesn't sound like they do though...
9 :
Chara (internally) : Stars, that kid sure is difficult ! Just continue okay, they are not worth it
Siffrin : ...
10 :
Siffrin : Hey Bonnie ?
Bonnie : Hum ?
Siffrin (internally) : No, no don't say that. They'll ALWAYS be worth it
11 :
Siffrin : What if I tell you that I still have a piece of Toriel's pie in my secret pockets. What d'you say ?
Siffrin (internally) : In every loop, every fun changes, you party will always be more important. If you have to proceed, it will be with them
12 :
Bonnie : ...Well. First, I say that it sounds super gross to keep pie in your pockets just like that
13 :
Bonnie : ...And then I say that I want it
14 :
Siffrin : There you go !
Bonnie : Thanks...
15 :
Siffrin (internally) : ...You know, it's nice to have new interactions with them. They almost became actual persons again, you even remember their names !
16 :
Bonnie : What ? WHAT ?! Why are you laughing ?! You makin' fun of me ?!!
17 :
Siffrin : No no, just thought you look like a bunny when you eat, a "Bonny" hehe. That's cute
Bonnie : GAASP. So you are makin' fun of me !
18 :
Bonnie : But huh, actually, I'm not mad at you somehow, guess it's because of the pie
Siffrin : Oh ? Really ?
Bonnie : Yeah, it's just that good
Siffrin : Huh, good to know
19 :
Bonnie : Yeah yeah, just go back to your place now. And stop being an idiot !
Siffrin (internally) : I guess they are okay now ?
Siffrin : Haha, okay okay
#underthestars#in stars and time#in stars and time crossover#isat#isat crossover#undertale ask blog#isat fanart#isat siffrin#isat isabeau#bonnie isat#isat odile#siffrin#isat mirabelle#mirabelle isat#in stars and time isabeau#odile#in stars and time odile#in stars and time siffrin#undertale#undertale art#undertale fandom#undertale crossover#undertale au#ut au#undertale alternate universe
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punishment
summary: you act out in retaliation to something onyankopon did, earning yourself a long night of punishment…
cw: spanking ( not a whole lot), cursing, written with a black reader in mind.
word count: 5k (plss i didn’t even realize it was so long😭)
you were pissed. it has been a good week and a half since you’ve last had your guts rearranged. you’re boyfriend onyakopon had been working nonstop making drops and it’s been starting to become irritating how lonely he’s left you. as you laid bored in you and ony’s shared bed, you decided that enough was enough and called your man.
the phone only rang about two times before you heard his deep voice transfer through the speakers. “yea mama?”. it was already hard for you to continue being mad at him but you stayed strong and carried on with your message. “hey pa. i miss you sooooo much.“ you can tell he was smiling through the phone when he replied “i miss you more beautiful. i’ll be home late tonight so don’t stay up waiting for me aii?”. hearing these words caused you to roll your eyes and develop a nasty attitude. “you cannot be for real right now. it’s been so fucking long since i’ve gotten to touch you and you keep on throwing me to the side for some wack ass work.” your irritation began to spread to your lover as he listened to how rude your mouth was right now.
“yo watch your mouth for real bro.” onyankopon commanded. his voice was starting to get you worked up, but giving in wasn’t an option tonight. thinking of all the other times he’s left you all alone until late into the night made you realize that he doesn’t deserve your kindness at all.
”NO. it’s not fair how work gets more attention than me. and i’m not your fucking bro so chill wit that shit.”
onyankopon grips his phone. trying to calmly get through to you. he’s always been pretty patient when it came to you since he knew how sensitive you can be, but tonight you were pushing it. “nah you the one that need to chill. you know damn well all this working i’m doing right now is to keep your little ass happy.”
“i don’t need you to always buy me stuff for me to be happy i just need you to be here”. as onyankopon registered your words he began to feel remorse for how you’re feeling. “i’m sorry mama. i know i’ve been neglecting you a little bit. just one more night and ima be all yours. ima cut back on my work i swear aii?”
listening to your man talk it was becoming harder to stay upset so you decided it’d be better for you to just drop it. “okay boo thank you for listening. and im sorry for cussing at you i didn’t mean to be rude. i was just frustrated and a little lonely.”
“i understand ma it’s all good. i gotta get back to work though so ima see you later. i love you.”
“i love you more baby. byeeee.” as the two of you hung up the phone you felt a huge weight lift off your shoulders. you were a little disappointed in yourself for not being able to stay mad, but being on good terms with your man was always better than being at each others throats all the time. especially when you and onyankopon know that you can barley take him when he’s angry…
as you sat around in your room you were beginning to feel bored again so you decided to call your good best friend sasha. you and sasha met through connie since you usually bought from him and eren. that was until you met up with eren connie and sasha to hotbox in connie’s car. as you snuck out of your moms house to smoke with your friends you approached the car and was stopped dead in your tracks when you seen onyankopon sitting in the back seat wit eren. “you gon keep staring all shy and shit or you gon come sit ma”. as if you were possessed you moved almost instantly to sit down next to the fine ass darkskin man in the car. ever since then the two of you were inseparable and eventually started fucking on the low until you were one day surprised with a beautiful beach dinner, a promise ring, and a card that read “will you be mine?” in onyankopon’s handwriting. while reminiscing on how you and your man met you were interrupted by a loud voice.
“bitch how you gon call me and sit in silence. please don’t tell me you and ony over there fucking and that you called by accident.” you laughed as you picked up your phone to show your empty room. “girl please i’m all alone in this mothafucka. ian seen ony in about seven years.” your words caused sasha to laugh out loud as you rolled your eyes.
“yea whatever girl what you up too?”
“i’m laying in my bed bored as shit waiting for my man to come home”
“good then get the fuck up and come shake some ass wit me”
you scrunched up your face in confusion as you thought about your friends words until you came to an exciting realization
“awww shit i forgot jean and marco were throwing that partyyyy. yea we definitely out to that shit.”
“yea bitch get your baddest fit on quick before that shit get two packed. we gotta be the baddest heffas on the flo to remind bitches that we can’t be fucked wit.”
you laugh as you nod your head in agreement. after a couple more minutes of catching up with sasha you both decide to get ready while on the phone to give each other tips on your outfits.
“we look goooood”
“yea we really doooo. lemme text ony and let him know i’m leaving the house. i don’t wanna get my shit beat in for being home late without saying anything.”
sasha laughed at your statement but quickly stopped smiling a made a stank face when connie entered the frame.
“hey y/n how you been girlllll” connie says in his best girl voice making you laugh.
“hey connn i’ve been good.”
“i’m glad you understand the value of communicating wit your man. this one girl i know never do that shit and always end up getting HER back blown out.”
you immediately knew who this “girl” was and looked at sasha with wide eyes and a smirk.
you can tell that sasha was getting a little embarrassed as she pushed connie out of the camera “yeaaa that’s enough. we coming to get you girl see you in ten”
you say your goodbyes as you hang up the phone and make final touches to your makeup. you decided on wearing a long sleeve brown square neck crop top with your tight black flare pants. you had just gotten your toes done a couple days prior so you decided to wear some brown fuzzy slides to go with the shirt. you usually didn’t have to bring a purse with you to these parties since ony would hold your stuff, but since he won’t be there you decided to bring your mini black leather telfar to hold your lip gloss phone and taser (which your man bought you just incase he wasn’t around to beat niggas up for you). you wore your hair naturally in a curly half up half down. looking at yourself in the mirror you decided to take a couple pictures before hearing the loud ass horn from connie’s car. before you walk outside you make sure all of the doors are locked just incase. knowing onyankopon would be pissed if he came home and seen anything unlocked. you hopped in the back of connie’s black charger only to see sasha back there too.
“what you doing back here? connie what did you do?” before connie gets the chance to speak he is quickly interrupted by sasha. “i gotta tell you sum. connie told me not to but i’m telling you anyways bc you my fav bitch and i can never lie to you.” your face began to contort in confusion as you slowly entered the car “what’s going on boo. what you gotta tell me?” you can tell she was nervous as she fiddled with the strap on her purse. refusing to make eye contact with you “ony is at the party right now. he was never working late. eren been in his ear telling him to go get loose and ‘get from up under’ you.“
you stared blankly at her as you began to try to piece her words together “how do you know this?”
“i saw it all in their group chat on connie’s phone. he’s there right now with eren.”
your blood started to boil with anger as you sat quietly in the car. how could he lie to you like this? he was the main one preaching communication and this is what he does? absolutely not. you leaned back in your seat as you started to develop a plan in your head. “don’t even worry about it girl i got sum for his ass”
you can see connie in the drivers seat shaking his head. contemplating whether or not he should say anything. eventually deciding to try to get through to you. “y/n-“
“ion wanna hear nun. what’s done is done. he lied and i am well within my rights to react however i want.” as the three of you approached the house the party was being held at you turned towards sasha and pointed to your phone. signaling for her to keep an eye out for the text you were about to send.
‘do you remember what he was saying in the messages?’
‘not much but i know eren was all up in there’s telling him he need to get loose and when ony said he was gon tell you about the party he was the main one saying no and how you don’t have to find out’
‘wowwww bet’
‘what you about to do?’
‘if he can do whatever he want without letting me know ima do whatever tf i want regardless if he see or not. since he too pussy to get from up under his little friends he better keep that same quiet energy when he see me wit another nigga’
your best friend smiled at you as she began typing away at her phone
‘ohhh shit he about to be sickkkk.’
as connie went to park the car you told him to drop you and sasha off at the door. instead of objecting he decided to take the smart route and let the two of you out before he got cursed out by sasha for the second time that night. the two of you walked into the party and were immediately hit with the scent of weed and liquor. not thinking of what you were doing you decided to walk right to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. as you poured yourself a heavy cup of whatever mixture was made in the large bowl you looked around the party trying to find the eyes of your no good lying ass boyfriend. without realizing you started to feel your hands get wet from your over-poured cup of alcohol. “woah shawty calm down. theres plenty more in there for you to get a second cup later.” as you turn around to see where this unfamiliar voice was coming from you end up locking eyes with none other than the person you feel is the cause of this distressful situation. eren fucking jeager. everyone including you knew that eren had a way of getting in peoples ear about shit to get them to do crazy stuff but you’d never thought he’d do it to your ony. but he can’t be the only one to blame. onyankopon was a grown ass man and theres no way that he would agree to do something like this if he truly didn’t want to. after softly shaking yourself out of your thoughts you stopped staring and turned to the person who was talking to you. he was tall with a cute smile, not as cute as your man’s but cute enough to flirt with.
“yea you right. im in my own little world right now so ian paying attention for real” you say with the cutest giggle you can muster.
“its all good sexy. you here wit anybody or can i have you to myself tonight?” his eagerness made you cringe on the inside but in order for your plan to work you needed him.“its just me and my girl sasha” you say while pointing to the clearly aggravated girl on the other side of the kitchen island. “damn what happened to her. I got friends here wit me if she don't wanna be alone”
as if right on time connie comes walking over to comfort sasha. as the boy continued talking your ear off about god knows what you looked around to see where onyankopon was. finally spotting him smoking in the backyard with eren and jean. you turn towards your plaything
“they’re playing my favorite song out there lets go dance.” you command excited as you nodded your head towards the door to the backyard. “yea whatever you want mamas.” he grumbled as he let you lead him outside. you noticed he wasn’t ever really listening to anything you were saying as he just stared as your ass while you walked in front of him. rolling your eyes you continue walking right past onyankopon and his friends not giving them a second glance. you heard all conversation in his area come to a complete stop which made you smile. walking through the other dancing bodies on the grass you made your way to the middle as you started to move your body to the beat of Ku Lo Sa by Oxlade. you let the guy touch all over you as the both of you moved to the rhythm. you were surprised with how well he was keeping up with you as the two of you danced with each other. as the song came to an end and the next one began you felt a soft tug on your arm. after turning around fully you were met with a hard chest under a black t shirt. you notice the familiar gold chain with your name on it immediately signaling to you that it was none other than your no good lying ass boyfriend pulling you towards him.“the fuck you doin here? and who the fuck is this nigga?” hearing his aggressive words you grew even more irritated. but clearly they scared the guy you were with since when you turned around he was nowhere to be found. you sigh. irritated as you turn back towards onyankopon. “what am i doing here? no nigga what the fuck are YOU doing here. you told me you were working and this don’t look like work bitch. you lied to me ony and now im done wit you. go find another bitch to lie to because im not the one.” saying these words out loud caused people to start staring at you which made you storm off into the house with your boyfriend hot on your heals. grabbing your arm again with more force he yanks your body back around and begins raising his voice. “chill wit that bitch word for i really get mad. im not saying you can’t be upset wit me because i know what i did was wrong. but what you not about to do is call me out my name and try to leave me, because im not going for that. we can either talk or fuck it out but you leaving me is not an option.”
“well im leaving you. i refuse to be wit a pussy nigga that don’t have enough respect for his girlfriend to keep his friends out his ear about what he should be doing. now if you’ll excuse me i got my new man waiting on me outside” you say with a big smirk or your face shoving onyankopon out the way. as you were walking away feeling like the baddest bitch in the world you suddenly see everything move around quickly as you are lifted off the ground and thrown over your boyfriends shoulder. you yelled “get off me nigga we not together anymore” to irritate him further which earned you a hard slap to your ass as you’re walked out of the party and into the driveway. as the both of you approached his car you were suddenly put down.
“get in the back now.”
you were going to say “no” but you decided to just get in to prevent yourself from further embarrassment since people were starting to come outside to see what all the commotion was. onyankopon watches you get in before finally entering the driver's seat. after pulling out the driveway he quickly drove the two of you away from the party.
while on your way home onyankopon felt that it was a great time to said his peace. “listen… i feel real bad about lying to you okay? theres no excuse for it and i know better than to be agreeing with anything eren say to me. im very very very sorry mama.” as he spoke you decided to look out the window and try to keep your mind off of the wack ass apology you were receiving. “I see you through the mirror baby can you please be respectful and look at me while im talking to you?” rolling your eyes you brush off what was said. “can you be respectful and NOT lie to the woman you claim to love? seems like you can’t”. his eyes widened at your words and he began growing aggravated. Raising his voice he replies “don’t be sayin that ma you know damn well i love you.”
“clearly not enough to be truthful. but since you such a follower maybe i been fucking wit the wrong nigga. maybe i should be trying to fuck wit the leader. i know eren known for being a player and all but if this pussy changed you one can only imagine what it’d do to him.”
locking eyes with him in the mirror you noticed how his began to sadden making you instantly regret your words. “m’ sorry i didn’t mean that”. you mumbled on deaf ears as onyankopon continued to drive the both of you home.
“daddy i said i didn’t mean it okay?”
“don’t ‘daddy’ me now. you wanna go there wit me then ima show you wassup when we get in the house.”
his calm demeanor put fear in your heart. knowing that you were done for when y’all were now approaching your driveway. as he finished parking the car onyankopon begins lighting himself a blunt. “gon head inside y/n and make sure you stripped and in that bed by the time i get to the room.” the way he said your name gave you chills as you got out the car and made your way inside. feeling scared as ever you did as you were told feeling that you’ve done enough damage. you first removed your makeup knowing that if you kept any of it on it’d be running down your face soon. then you removed your clothes leaving you in your bed fully naked. you waited fifteen long minutes for your man to come in. during them you thought about your actions and began to think of an apology. you realized that even though your ony lied to you he never went around any other girls and was only really at that party to connect with his friends. his friends that he probably also hasn’t gotten to talk to as well due to his constant work. not to make excuses for him but knowing how you are he probably felt that it was a lose-lose situation given that you’d be mad if he said he wanted to hang out with friends instead anyways. being in your own head caused some tears to fall as you thought about how wrong you tried to handle the situation. letting another man touch on you as the man you loved watched and then bringing up one of his close friends to get at him upset made you feel so ashamed. while you continued to beat yourself up about your fucked up actions you hear the door to your shared room open. as onyankopon entered the room he glanced at you, noticing the tears in your eyes and all over your pretty face.
“whats wrong mama?”
hearing how gentle his voice was despite how angry he should be made you feel even worse about your what you did. as you opened your mouth to respond, a broken sob escaped from your mouth. your man rushes to your aid as if nothing that happened mattered other than your wellbeing. wrapping his arms around you onyankopon began to comfort you “don’t cry baby. everything’s alright. i know you didn’t mean it”
as you calmed down you slowed your breathing you got the courage to reply, “i-im so s-sorry ony. i didn’t mean to act up like that. i p-promise i never do that againnn”
all you could do was keep crying into his arms after you got your apology off your chest. your kindhearted boyfriend lifts you up and placed you in his lap while you cried to him. rubbing your back and hugging you tight to keep you feeling safe. eventually he got you to completely calm and relaxed causing you to begin dozing off. after gently shaking you awake, you look up at your lover.
“I forgive you mama, but you still need a punishment. gon head and arch ya shit for me”. you sit up in confusion as you watch your boyfriend get off the bed and start ridding himself of his shirt and sweats. “what do you mean? you said you forgive me.” you protest with a frown
“i do forgive you sweetheart but it don’t take away from the fact that you disrespected me in front of all those people and claimed you wanted to fuck on my friend in the car”
“but pa-”
“ass up pretty. if i have to tell you a third time ima really fuck your shit up.”
deciding that it’d be better if you just did what you were told you got into the backshot position and made the deepest arch you could to hopefully satisfy your clearly still upset boyfriend.
“rules and colors baby” he mumbled while kneading and rubbing on your ass. too caught up in the pleasure of his touch you were brought back to reality after hearing a hard smack with a hot stinging pain in your left cheek to follow. you moan into your silk sheets as your pussy began to soak from the contact.
“you hear daddy talking to you?”
“n-no running, no to-touching, no cumming without d-daddy’s permission.” hearing how well you listened brought a smirk to onyankopon’s face as he continued to rub on your body.
“and your colors?”
“green,yellow, a-and red. and my safeword is cookie”
onyankopon’s eyes widened at the way you went above what was asked of you to please him. ‘damn she must really want forgiveness’ was the first thought to come to his mind after hearing how much of a good girl you were being. this made him almost feel bad for what he was about to do. but almost wasn’t enough. spreading you open onyankopon noticed how wet you already were all from getting spanked once. “no prep tonight ma”. onyankopon began lining himself up with your entrance and thrusted forward roughly. “fuckkk daddyyyy”. his roughness caused you to curse out loud, earning you another hard slap to your ass. “watch your mouth. you want me to go deeper?” you never understood why your boyfriend was so against you cursing, but you didn’t get the chance to dwell on it as he began to thrust harder and deeper into you. hitting all your favorite spots that you’d never be able to reach on your own. even when you were getting your back blown out you still kept your arch real deep which surprised your man. “you taking me so well mama. you tryna make me nut fast?” hearing him talking in your ear so deep made it really hard for you not to cum quick without permission. “im so so so sorry for reaaaaal”. you heard him chuckle behind you as he continued to quickly thrust in and out. “you sorry?”
“yes papa. so so soooo sorry.” as onyankopon took in your words he quickly replayed all the events from tonight again. quickly removing all remorse from his body he laid both of his hands flat on your back an pushed down. causing you to feel him hit even deeper inside of you than ever before. “i don’t know baby you gon have to do better than that for me to ease up on you.” quickly pulling out and turning you over onyankopon notices the many tears in your eyes followed by the spit covering your lips. “c’mere lemme taste you”. dropping to his knees onyankopon began to sloppily eat you out while using his middle and ring fingers to keep you full. your back arched off the bed as a wave of pleasure went all over your body. “what’s rule three?” curling his fingers upward onyankopon smirks up at you. watching you moan so loud it almost sounded as if you were screaming. “oooooh my god daddy pleaaaseeee.” he started to move his fingers faster and rougher as you grew closer and closer to the edge.
“what’s rule three mama? talk to daddy.”
“n-no coming without y-your permission”
your compliance causes his dick to twitch. “thats right. so why do i feel you getting so wet? you about to disobey me?” your face contorts into one of displeasure. as if the mere thought of you disobeying your man made you feel uncomfortable. “i'll hold it pa i promise” onyankopon quickly removes his fingers from your warm heat and stands up abruptly. as you watch him line himself up with your entrance you silently thank god for having him stop because you were really about to cum. “you being such a good girl right now. just keep being good and you'll cum okay?” nodding your head you quickly stop, realizing the mistake you just made. hoping he didn’t notice, you opened your legs wider to show him how ready you were for him. your lover slowly licks his lips while looking at your wet awaiting pussy sitting pretty all for him. “your shit so fat mama, but im not a dummy. i’ll let it slide just this once since you’ve been good so far, but the next time i ask you a question you answer with your words understand?” looking deeply into his eyes you feel a weight lift off your shoulders “yes daddy” onyankopon slowly trusts into you giving you long and deep strokes. while he was holding your legs over his shoulders you felt him start to penetrate your g spot over and over again causing you to start scratching down his back.
“papa’s so sorry for lying. it won’t happen again.” not registering what was being said all you could do was rub on your boyfriend’s back while he continued to hit your sweet spot. “you don’t deserve that at all. i promise you ima do better.” finally understanding what his message you moved your hand up onyankopon’s back and absentmindedly began to caress the nape of his neck. “it’s okayyyy. im s-sorry tooo.” as he kept his steady pase you began to feel a tight knot form in your stomach along with the urge to pee.
“baby im close. please please please-”
“gon head baby im right behind you”
as if your body knew exactly what he said, you were no longer able to hold it in as you came all over your bed and onyankopon’s stomach. soon after you came he began to quicken his pace as you shook in overstimulation. after a few more strokes you felt him fill you up with his hot cum. after both of you finished you were overcome with a wave of exhaustion finally letting sleep overtake you.
when you woke up you seen that you were already clean and wearing a t shirt that clearly belonged to your boyfriend due to how big it was on you. pain ran through your lower half as you tried to sit up which caused you to let out a low whine. as if sensing you were in pain onyankopon enters the room with a glass of water and an aspirin. “i know mama i gotchu.” smiling up at your man you gladly accept the water and medicine.
“thank you so much boo”
“its my job baby no need to be thankin’ me.”
smiling to yourself you quickly took the aspirin and drank a couple sips of water. how did you get so lucky? you really have the best man in the world. your happy thoughts were interrupted by the vibrations on your phone. “oh yea i forgot to tell you sasha been calling for over an hour now. ian wanna bother you so i just put your shit on vibrate.” you look at your phone and see a bunch of messages from sasha.
‘bitchhhhh what is going onnnnn’
‘everybody is so shockedddd. nobody’s seen ony act like that before omgg’
‘now connie mad at me for telling you but idc im grown asf’
‘oh shit now we leaving’
you giggled as you read through the messages from your best friend, deciding to put an airpod in and call her back. “hey bitchhhh” you hear sasha rasp quietly “girl what happened to youuuu” you snicker out as you look at sasha’s hair in a crazy bun. she moved her camera to the side to show none other than a sleeping connie. “i got my shit beat DOWNNN” you continue to laugh until you remember the current situation you're in as well. “i can’t even move my legs” you whisper as low as you can to keep onyankopon from hearing, but he clearly still heard you. “and if you wanna ever feel them mothafuckas again then i advise you take your ass to sleep.” turning towards your man you see that he was already staring right at you waiting for you to hang up and go to bed. you roll your eyes as you hear sasha laugh at you. “ion know why you laughing mami im boutta take your legs along with that throat if you don’t hang that shit up and go to sleep. gon end up being bed rest buddies wit y/n if you keep playing with me.” connie’s sudden speech made your eyes widen as you both silently communicate that you’ll hang up the phone to keep from being fucked up again. as you hang up the phone you cuddle up closer to your man. “are you really gonna make more time for me?” as if expecting you to ask, onyankopon gives you the slowest nastiest kiss ever, causing you to do nothing but start cheesin mad hard. “yea pretty i'm all yours tomorrow. if you can walk i'll take you to the mall.”
hearing the word mall immediately excited you as you cuddled up to him more in love than before and drifted off to sleep.
#onyankopon x reader#onyankopon x black reader#aot#aot smut#aot onyankopon#black!reader#eren yaegar#eren jaeger#connie springer
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PHOTOGRAPH “we keep this love in a photograph.” carl grimes x fem!reader
tags: angst, death, use of y/n, 8x9, some fluff
a/n: first angst, i was bawling my eyes out while writing this 😓. based off photograph by ed sheeran, lyrics r in italics. i hope ygs enjoy!!
loving can hurt sometimes. you never really understood how much until now.
FLASHBACK.
“we should do something.” carl says, fiddling with your promise ring which he got you. he saw it while on a run and thought it was pretty, “pretty items for a pretty girl.” he thought. you were sitting criss cross applesauce in front of him, him doing the same. both of his hands were interlinked with yours, giving light squeezes. “and what’s that?” you ask. “we should take a photo. you know for the future.” “for the future?” “like to show our kids.” you wanted to kiss him until you couldn’t breathe. did he really just say that? did he mean it? this boy would be the death of you.
“wait okay so- i just do a random pose?” you say, looking at the camera carl held in his hand. “up to you baby.” he never failed to make you feel special. you were so in love, and you knew he was too. “m’ ready!” “sweet.” he angles the camera to fit you both into the frame before you press your lips onto his cheek. his lips curve up into a smile before you hear the click sound from the camera.
carl held the photo of you both in his hand, examining every part of it. mostly examining you. the way your hair fell perfectly upon your face, the way your lips looked perfect on his skin. god, he just knew he was going to make you his wife one day. you giggled at the light kiss stain you left on his cheek.
PRESENT TIME.
you held the necklace you got when you were fifteen, heavy tears flowing down your face at a rapid pace.
FLASHBACK.
“carl.. you didn’t.” you say, looking at the beautiful silver heart locket in the small black box carl handed to you. “you like it?” he says, grinning from ear to ear. “i love it. i- you didn’t have to.” you say, your eyes getting mistier by the second. “don’t cry pretty girl.” he says, putting his hand on your cheek. “i love you so much carl.” “i love you more.”
PRESENT TIME.
holding him closer til’ our eyes meet. did it have to end like this?
FLASHBACK.
“carl you can’t leave me like this. i wo- i won’t allow it. this isn’t fucking fair.” you say, hitting carl’s chest softly. you were so angry, and sad, you didn’t know how to feel. “y/n you’ll be fine. i know you will. you’re a strong girl. it’ll b-“
“what about- what about the plans we made? who am i supposed to talk to late at night when i have nightmares? w-who am i supposed to cry about stupid things to? carl i can’t do this without you.” you started to choke on your words, the realization hitting deeper and deeper that you would never get to see, to talk to, to hold, to kiss, to love carl grimes ever again.
carl pulls you into his chest for one last hug. you embraced him tightly, trying to make the best of it while it lasted. he then cupped your face and pressed his forehead onto yours. “my girl, my y/n, i love you.”
PRESENT TIME.
you kept his last words deep within your soul. your hands quivered as you slowly opened the piece of paper which carl left for you. your heart stopped when you saw his handwriting. all of his words written on the paper. you wished it could’ve lasted longer. you wished you had more time with him.
“my dearest y/n. i remember when we first met. you looked so scared. you were always quiet, always alone. i felt so bad for you. i would always admire from afar, watching the wind blow through your hair. you were so pretty. i don’t know how i ended up having you as my girlfriend, but it’s the best thing i could’ve ever experienced.
i know you’re sad. i know you’re angry. i’m frustrated too. i meant it when i said i wanted to show the photos to our kids. i meant it every single time i said i love you. because i am truly in love with you. every part of you. and nothing will ever change that. in another lifetime we will reunite once again. i will always be with you. don’t ever be scared. we keep this love in a photograph. we made all of these memories for ourselves.
so you can keep me, hidden in the pocket of your ripped jeans. you won’t ever be alone. wait for me to come home.”
you look at the photo which fell to the floor while you were reading the letter. quiet laughs mixed with sobs come out of your mouth when you remember that day. forever you will have this memory. captured in a photograph.
#carl grimes#carl grimes x reader#the walking dead#twd#carl grimes fluff#carl grimes x fem!reader#carl grimes x y/n#twd x reader#carl grimes oneshots#carl grimes x y/n smut#carl grimes x reader smut#carl grimes angst#twd fluff#twd imagines#twd oneshot#carl grimes fanfiction
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🔞 i guess it's because there's an event happening and that's why he's on my mind, but i've been thinking about sexual tension and some angst with Lucifer
[NSFW, minors DNI. GN reader, unrequited feelings(?), casual sex, getting caught. Maybe alluding to some angry/jealous sex, possible dubcon at the end?? This is....wayyyy longer than intended/accidental ficlet]
Like just imagining really coming to be attracted to him. Emotionally attracted because he's responsible and serious and intelligent, and then has his sweet and romantic moments that seem like they're only for you. And physically, he has every reason to be the Avatar of Pride. He's probably one of, if not the most, gorgeous men you've ever laid eyes on. Those intense ruby red eyes, broad shoulders, skilled hands that produced both gorgeous handwriting as well as wonderful piano music.
It comes to the point that you can't make eye contact with him or you know you'll get flustered. Starting to get distracted by thinking about what he'd be like as a lover, as a boyfriend. Slight touches are enough to send your daydreams on a journey. But knowing he likely doesn't like you that way, that the feelings aren't returned. And anyway, the plan is to eventually return to the human world, right? Is it worth getting into a relationship now, just to separate so soon down the road? But rather than deal with the rejection and heartache, just swallowing those feelings down and trying to move on with your life.
Of course, amidst the inner turmoil going on in your heart, you didn't expect to get involved with Lord Diavolo instead, the prince approaching you with the most unexpected offer that you decided to accept, perhaps against your better judgment.
It wasn't anything serious, definitely just a fling, simply responding to mutual attraction and a mutual desire for some stress relief. Honestly, it happened rather suddenly, a curious kiss after a meeting quickly evolving into more, but once it started, it was easy to just go with the flow, taking your moments alone to indulge and just release that tension. You reasoned it was both a good way to forget your feelings and still enjoy some kind of attention, and thankfully he was an excellent lover.
However, you had to admit to yourself that, as gorgeous and skilled as the devil prince was, you'd be lying if your mind didn't seem to wander off more often than not to a certain red-eyed devil. Even as Diavolo worked to rearrange your guts over his office desk, risking any documents he decidedly abandoned in pursuit of... greater pleasures, even as his golden eyes burned into you and he devoted himself to learning your favorite spots, your mind still went back to Lucifer.
If Diavolo knew that your heart was elsewhere, he didn't mention it. You were an adult and you weren't dating each other, he had no right to question it regardless. And as the heir to the throne, he had other things to focus on anyway. The whole point of the fling was something simple, pleasurable, and the less you two thought about feelings and regrets, the better.
Of course, assumptions can often be your undoing.
During one such beneficial "meeting" between you and the prince, your hands were grasping— broad shoulders, the desk, his hair, whatever was closest— as you tried to hold on for dear life. Something had seemed to really get under his skin lately, so he was working on releasing all his stress into you instead, his desk at risk of breaking, based on the amount of creaking that could be heard. His large cock bullying its way into your body repeatedly and pressing up against a particularly sensitive spot inside was driving you close to climax, and the overwhelming pleasure was driving any coherent thoughts from your mind.
The volume of the room was loud and only getting louder by the second, a sinful symphony of pants and grunts, rhythmic wood creaking, and the wet slap of Diavolo's balls against your ass. Thus, it was no wonder neither of you heard the approaching footsteps, or at least, couldn't be bothered to pay it any mind. Diavolo adjusted his grip on your hips at the last second, really driving his cock home inside you, and you could feel the band about to snap.
Just before you could go over that delicious precipice, the door to Diavolo's office opened, and your head whipped around to see the intruder. Of all the people it could have been, you should have known there was equal chances of being walked in by Lucifer as there was Barbatos. And yet, seeing him there still froze you to the spot as his eyes met yours.
Or rather, it would have. But Diavolo made one more thrust, the thick head of his dick pressing the sweetest little spot inside, and it was enough for the band to finally snap. In what felt like ages but was all within the span of a second, everything came crashing down. Your body tightened before releasing all at once, spasming in Diavolo's hold as you couldn't help but release a cry. The feel of your hole tightening around him dragged him into climax with you, and he seated himself deep inside before filling you with his cum.
What would have been an otherwise heavenly, earth-shattering orgasm was short-lived, as the horror of what happened quickly dissolved any remaining pleasure. You pushed against Diavolo's chest, trying to get him to move, to at least pull out of you, so you could pull yourself together and try to explain-- explain what, exactly? You weren't even sure, and it wasn't like Lucifer didn't just see you cum on his boss' dick just a minute ago, and in fact were still stuffed with it atop his desk.
You couldn't read the expression on his face, and didn't get much chance to explain anything before Lucifer apologized for interrupting and left.
It's days before you can speak to Lucifer again, practically cornering him in his office despite how hard your heart is pounding and how much you want to run away. You're expecting many different reactions: disappointment, shaming, anger, perhaps even indifference. But when Lucifer finally snaps, what initially seems like anger seems to morph into what is instead... jealousy? Questioning you on when your relationship with Diavolo started, how long you two have been fucking, if there's anyone else you're riding like a whore besides the prince.
You can't help the way your face burns when he spits out that word, "whore", but there's no time to attempt a defense before Lucifer is pushing you over his desk, a hand grasping your hip so hard you might bruise, the other yanking your hair to look back at him. The look in his eyes then blows you away, equal parts desire and anger swirling in those bloody depths. You'd ask him what he's going to do, but the solid length pressing against your backside is answer enough. Despite the shame hanging over you, you can't help the part of you that's thrilled that he wants you like that, even if it was happening for all the wrong reasons. But as the sound of a belt unbuckling caught your ears, you accepted your punishment and just hoped there'd be time later to truly confront each other.
#lucifer x reader#diavolo x reader#obey me lucifer#obey me smut#obey me angst#lucifer thirsts#obey me diavolo#obey me shall we date#spicy minx 🔥
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゚+* ꔫ — 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐒 + 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 !!
content: gn!reader. sfw — fluff. slightly suggestive in shidou's part. featuring: bachira meguru, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, michael kaiser. some of these hcs were suggested to me by other tumblr users! they are credited separately under each part<3
— . 。˚ ♡ he thinks of these special moments whenever he's feeling down, and it helps him get right back up.
° 𐐒𐐚 . bachira meguru + painting date!
credit to @katasstrophy for the idea! the bachira family has a little art studio built in their house, owned by bachira's mom. he takes you there one time, and though you'd been doing your best to keep things clean for his mother's sake, the two of you end up making a huge mess.
you're intently dabbing brown and yellow paint on your little canvas, looking back at the mental image you've conjured of your boyfriend sitting in a field of flowers and smiling at you, when you hear shuffling behind you.
"baby, baby," is all bachira says in warning. "look this way!" and you turn around, wide-eyed and inquiring as you finally look away from the canvas on which you've been meticulously painting a picture of your rogueishly adorable boyfriend—
only to be met with a splat of bright pink paint across your face. "m—meguru? what the hell?" it's on your cheek, dangerously close to your mouth that had been open in question to bachira's urgent request for you to turn around, and it's nearly in your eye. "god i could've eaten that shit!"
the sound of bachira's unapologetic giggling fills the quiet studio as you get up and pluck a wad of tissues from the box on the table nearby, wiping your face off with it. while your back is turned, he flicks his paint-sopped brush at you again, and you feel the paint hit the back of your neck. "don't do that!"
you stand up straight and turn your back to your easel, squaring your shoulders and doing your best to protect the painting.
"it's—" bachira's laughing so hard now, he snorts in between his words. "it's even worse now, baby — it's all over your face!" and you know that. because you can feel the paint smear down to your chin as you wipe. oh, you think, he's so fucking cute right now, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkly as he giggles.
but that's not going to stop you from retaliating. meguru, you're about to get it.
his mother chewed him out and made him clean the place up afterwards, but bachira would do it again and again and again, just to see your pretty smile and hear your pretty laugh, your eyes lit up as you tried to stay angry with him while the two of you made a mess of yourselves and the studio once more.
° 𐐒𐐚 . hyoma chigiri + poetry analysis date!
credit to @yakshasslut for the idea! chigiri gives you a book of his favourite love poems to read while he's away, and by the time he comes back home, you're brimming with tender feelings for him and he flusters so sweetly when you express it. ever since, it's been a tradition to share and mull over novels and poems together.
not many of chigiri's friends or teammates are well-versed in poetry or literature in general, but there is one novel of prose that each and every one of them can name and recognize within an instant — and it's a book that you gave your boyfriend as a gift, years ago.
it doesn't have much of you in it — it's a collection of poems that express the joys and pains of long distance love, and the only hint of you in it is the lipstick kiss on the front page, with a "for hyoma, my one and only<3" written on it in your handwriting.
he takes it everywhere. flicks through the pages while he's on the plane, while he's resting in his hotel room, and sometimes even takes it with him to games.
he takes so much care to keep it safe and in good condition, but it's quite worn now— he can't bring himself to shelf it, though. it's his most prized posession, almost.
he reads it and keeps in mind that while he's away, you're reading the new book that he had gifted you before he left, and he smiles to himself, imagining how you underline and draw hearts around your favourite lines and write little pencil notes about how "this is you @ me!"
don't get it wrong, chigiri loves being on the field. he loves the glamour, the adrenaline, the fire of scoring a goal — but at his heart, he's soft. domestic.
he hopes fondly for the day he'll get to lay in bed with you again (he's only going to be away for two weeks. but it feels like two months, or even years, sometimes) and have a cozy little date where you just sip on warm coffee and share sweet cakes while mulling over poems together.
it's comforting. it's home.
he thinks about the worn book of poems that sits on your shelf, back at your place. the one he gave you.
the one you read all the time, leaving new annotations bookmarked for him to find each time he picks the book up for a read.
if he ever actually tired of football, chigiri thinks he might just become a poet. for you.
° 𐐒𐐚 . mikage reo + picnic date at the beach!
credit to anonymous! reo is a rich man, and he's so used to fancy dinner dates, luxury trips, first class service, all that. so when you take him on a cute little beach date, getting him to help you cut sandwiches and bake brownies and cookies earlier in the day, it was a new experience for him. and he loves it.
“reo, what about here?” you ask, turning around to look at him as you hop in your cute little sandals on the sand. he's carrying the picnic basket and you have the blanket folded under your arms — and he's been following you across the pretty beach for about fifteen minutes now.
though you ask him if he likes the spot, he knows from the look in your eyes that you actually like this place, and it's nice! the sand is soft and there's not a lot of rocks or seaweed under foot, the shore is a short walk away, and the sunset spills so pretty onto your skin and into your eyes.
he's almost lost in the sight — but when you call his name again, sounding a little concerned as you ask, “reo? you okay?” he snaps out of it and gives you one of his signature, wide and adorable grins. “yeah! here is fine, baby.”
he doesn't know but even his eyes are lit up, the violet of them beautiful and tinted gold in the light of the setting sun, and you can't help but cup his face and kiss him as he puts the basket down and sits on the blanket beside you.
“isn't this fun?” you giggle against his lips, and he hums in agreement, taking your waist in his hands and pulling you in for another kiss. the evening has just started, but he already knows that he'll remember this moment fondly, forever. “mhm, it is fun.”
“you sure?” you ask, tracing his cheek with your thumb, and it's almost a softer, warmer feeling than that of the sun kissing his face. “it's not your usual scene, i know. we can always go to a—”
”no,” reo cuts you off, taking your hand. the smile he gives you is prettier, brighter than any he's ever given you before. it takes your breath away. “it's not my usual scene, yeah.” he chuckles. “in fact, i've never had a picnic on the beach in my life until now. but it's... nice. i love it.”
he says it so softly, and it's rare, coming from your bubbly, bright and ever-so-forward lover. and that's how you know he's telling you the truth.
“alright then.” you kiss his cheek, pulling away and sitting back, dragging the basket closer so you can take the food out. it's just a little kiss, the same as any other kiss you've given his cheek — but somehow, it holds a different sort of warmth, and it comforts him. makes him feel so softly, gently beloved.
and he swears he'll hold this warmth to his cheek, to his chest, to his heart — forever.
° 𐐒𐐚 . michael kaiser + homemade spa date!
credit to anonymous! off days with kaiser are the nicest spent indoors. you go on outdoor dates (and on dates overseas) so often, that it's a nice change to stay at home once in a while and spend some sweet, domestic time with him instead.
“mikka,” your tone is scolding as you cradle his face in your palms, stopping him from wiggling around as you try to stay balanced in his lap. “can you stop moving? the serum is getting in your hair!”
kaiser laughs, the lift of his lips making him look all the more prettier, and hence all the more fucking distracting, as you try to wipe the residual bits of the face mask you'd just peeled off your boyfriend's face, replacing the thick, opaque cleanser with softly translucent moisturizer.
he taps your palmful of moisturizer with an index finger, and with a quick move of the digit he swipes the blob on your nose, making you flinch back and blink in surprise.
“mikka!”
ah, there it is. mission successful. kaiser almost wishes he could go to sleep forever and in his dreams, listen to you calling him by that sweet little petname for the rest of his life. almost.
because he wishes more than that to kiss you all the time. like right now. he leans forward, the smile stretching his mouth giving away his intention to you, but not in time for you to escape. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in, kissing you with soft, sweet and swollen lips that you'd just finished exfoliating with sugar and honey.
“baby,” your eyebrows furrow, but you still kiss him back and it makes him chuckle because oh, for all the fuss you make and all the scowling you do, you love him so. “we'll never get to the manipedi by movie time at this rate.”
“movie time can wait, princess,” he sighs against your lips. “all i want right now is to watch you, anyway.”
and his words are romantic, suggestive, and they'd bring a blush to your cheeks for sure — if he hadn't accidentally tipped you off balance in that second.
“mikka!—” you yelp (to his delight) as he grabs you and tries to steady you — but even as he saves you, your hand reflexively flails upwards to curl around his arm for support.
and with a smack, the moisturizer is all over his bicep instead of lathered evenly across his face as it should be.
the upset on your face is apparent, but kaiser only grins expectantly as he grips your waist, adjusts your position in his lap again, waiting.
and you don't disappoint. “look what you've done! mikka!”
#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™.#₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA.#blue lock fluff#blue lock x reader#bllk fluff#mikage reo fluff#mikage reo x reader#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser fluff#chigiri hyoma x reader#chigiri hyoma fluff#bachira meguru x reader#bachira meguru fluff#bachira x reader#chigiri x reader#reo x reader#kaiser x reader#bachira fluff#reo fluff#blue lock headcanons
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