#do I really gush about them that much????

[suiana]

yandere! golden boy who is your loving boyfriend and... surprisingly loves listening to you talk about your interests! yes darling, talk about your games and novels and silly plushies! he loves seeing how interested you can get about things you're passionate about and it just makes him feel so warm on the inside.

you might even go as far to say he ENCOURAGES your interests. buying you plushies, taking you to exhibitions/places you want... you don't even have to ask, just one look with your eyes and he's taking out his card. yeah, it doesn't matter if you have an unhealthy attachment to that fat cat pusheen or whatever. you seem to really like it so he's buying that 400 dollar plushie for you.

on the same note... he can't help but get jealous when you're gushing over attractive fictional characters. SPECIFICALLY that ONE dude that you seem to have EVERYWHERE. on the wall, on your phone cover, lock screen, profile picture, fuck, even on your bed as a plushie! and all he gets is a meager nickname on his contact?!

"sweetie, must you... really have all these... THINGs of HIM?"

"he's my first husband, you're my second. of course i have merch of him. plus I'm not gonna just throw all these away, i spent big money on these ya know 💀"

he knows it's petty! he knows that it's just a fictional character and that he shouldn't be jealous but dude! you don't even have him in your wallet! it's that freaking guy!

so he does what evey sane boyfriend does and replaces some (not all just some!) of your merchandise with pictures of him and you. how adorable, right?

no.

"bro where is the portrait of my MAN🤬🤬🤬"

"i replaced it with a nice picture of us together darling☺️ look at how cute-"

oh. and you...you just put another photo of that guy again... oh... and you're ranting on reddit/instagram about how he's being mean... you also removed him from your close friends list... oh you... you also decided to kick him off the bed and onto the sofa... oh...

well no biggie! he has lots of patience and he will sneak in his presence into your stuff. he's determined.

"best friend I'm going to need you to cosplay as my favorite character please ☺️"

damn!

why didn't he think of that sooner? if you can't win the normal way, you should do it another way, right? he can just get you to see how much better he is and you'll eventually replace that fictional man for HIM!

...

yeah, that didn't work out as planned. now you're even more in love with that character and you're asking him to cosplay every other day. erm... at least.. your wallpaper is a picture of him cosplaying the character??? he'll take what he can get.

"lol best friend, did you see that video i sent you. it's so stupid."

"for the last time, sweetie. we're dating, call me boyfriend. and which one? I can't watch every single one of the 99+ reels you send me."

"a real best friend would watch them all..."

being with you has singlehandedly changed this man. for the worse or for the better, he doesn't know. but what he does know is that you DON'T know how to dress.

"sweetie, no. you can't just go out in a shirt and shorts! you look like adam sandler!"

"clothes are clothes 🤬"

at least he has a fun time dressing you up. you're like, his cute little rat! his very own personal dress up rat! oh how he wants to just keep you in his pocket and pick out pretty clothes for you, making you look like the cutest thing ever! sure you might take them off and just wear what you want but... at least he's got the photos and the sight of you in a pretty outfit ingrained into the folds of his brain already ☺️ and he'll take every chance he can get to put you into another pretty outfit again. that i assure you.

he... has ALSO found out that you are living on instant noodles, sandwiches, and the occasional takeout. you don't even open the curtains! how can you see in such a dark home? and why are you sleeping until midday?! dear oh dear. you really are a rat, huh?

"darling get up! it's 12 in the afternoon already!"

"i slept at 3 just let me sleep more..."

that simply won't do. he will not be allowing you to lead such a horrid lifestyle! not if he can help it! especially because... well, he's also your boss. from part 1, remember! yeah, you guys didn't break up at the end haha! you were just joking, obviously! not like you'll ever be able to break up. it's in the contract, silly.

"come on, get up. you need to have a healthy lifestyle. I've already gotten my personal chef to cook up a healthy meal for you."

"who's gonna stop me from living like this? you? 😂😂😂"

"yes, me. in our contract, remember? i will be responsible for your health from now till we die."

don't worry. he'll be by your side every step of the way. and hey, who knows? maybe you can even teach him a thing or two about gaming or something else you like! he's open to learning about the things you like.

and he won't even have to worry about you finding another REAL person to like because... well, let's just say you don't even like going out for dinner. we'll keep it at that ☺️

[hyperfixiation-station]

Behind Enemy Lines Pt.1

CW: Torture, Canon-typical violence, talk of derealization, disassociation Summary: You were a friendly medic, captured years ago and held prisoner, forced to do do the bidding of your captors. Years later, a man by the name of Ghost is dragged in and changes the trajectory of your life. A/N: I had severe ADHD, and i am unmedicated rn, and it makes it really hard to work on things unless I get the hyperfocused drive for it, so I'm sorry I'm so bad at making the other parts to my fics. Know that I will never abandon them. it just might take me a while. idea part 2

You fought back, at first. Way back when you first got captured, taken from your base camp and dragged through miles and miles of harsh terrain, blindfolded and bound. A medic you were, yes. But your team had trained you with the best of them. You spent the whole time trying to escape, kicking and screaming until they bound your legs and gagged you. You spent the first month of captivity refusing to talk to them, hissing and spitting and pretending their punches didn’t hurt. But it didn't take you long to realize it was better to cooperate, or to at least be civil. Civility got you less broken bones, less pain, more rations, more sleep. Cooperation didn’t come till later, when you finally realized your team wasn't coming for youthey were dead but you didn't know that.

Surprisingly, the whole mouth-getting-sewn-shut didn't happen till a couple years in... they were torturing someone, a man who said he had kids and a wife at home, whose only wish was that they left something recognizable of him so they could get some closure. You begged them to stop. Begged them to stop when his wounds became too numerous to count, too much for you to handle. Begged because you started to care for him as he told you about his son and daughter, how they want him home for Christmas(You didn't have the heart to tell him Christmas was 6 days ago) Told them that he would die no matter what you did if they continued. Well, they didn't stop, and he did die... and you found yourself ringing in the new year by being strapped to a table.

“We warned you to stop talking with him.” They said as they clamped the metal shut over your forehead and chin, holding you in place. “We told you to not get attached, but since you can’t seem to do it on your own, we’ll help you.” The feeding tube came 2 weeks later, shoved up your nose when they realized you were starving...they couldn't lose their favorite medic of course.

You stopped paying attention to the passage of time after that, spent most of your days drifting in and out of reality, moving through the motions with a practiced ease. And it would have remained that way, if it wasn’t for a man in a skull mask with a team- a family- looking for him. 

Your first introduction to him ended up with you getting a broken nose. Per usual, you were shoved into the cell, medical kit in hand, ready to fix up whatever damage your captors had done the their poor prisoner.

The mask he had been wearing when you saw him dragged in was gone, and he had a gash that went all the way through his cheek that would need stitching up. You pull out your equipment, moving slowly towards his bleeding face. 

he headbutted you the moment you got close enough for him to reach, and the crunch of bone and the gush of warm blood followed, not that you noticed. You were still in that dreamlike state, not quite tether to reality in the way you should be. You barely noticed when they tranqued him, and the only reason you didn't finish his stitches is because you passed out too(it’s hard to breathe through a bloody, broken nose)

The next time you approach more carefully, but he’s no trouble. Mostly because they left him completely strapped to the table this time. Today was a rare day, a time when you  could actually feel your feet on the ground rather than just see them. You feel bad as you wipe him down, your eyes flicking over the myriad of scars on his body. What’s one more you think to yourself as you get to work stitching a stab wound to his thigh. Just barely missed the artery here…that could have been bad news. Okay tie it off and- there we go. I think the only other thing that need to- oh, is he…talking to me? I should probably pay attention to that.

“-here?” His voice is gravely, though you suppose yours would be too after being tortured. He stares at you expectantly, and you shrug. You don’t know what he said, and even if you did, you couldn’t answer. You just move to his wrist, snapping the bone back in place. He inhales sharply, but doesn’t make an actual sound, which surprises you. But you don’t dwell on it, wrapping a bandage around his arm and moving to exit the room. 

“Y’ no’ g’nna lemme off?” His voice sounds, “they said y’ would.” You spin around, staring at him. You're not stupid. And even if your…bosses had said that, you still wouldn’t do it. Being trapped in a room with a man who is at least a foot taller than you and looks like he could kill a man with his glare? No thank you. 

You take a step back, heading towards the door. The man lets out a sound you would barely qualify as a laugh. “Sm’rt then.” He says to himself, “No’ gonna be that easy.” 

The next time you go in, you can't help but wonder what they want from this man. By now they usually would have killed him off. Oh well, not your job to wonder. You clean him up, splinting the fingers they had broke when he talks to you again.

"why don't y' let me die?" He says, voice just as gravely as before, "Put me outa m' misery?" You don't respond, just keep taping his hand. IT's something you ad asked yourself, right at the beginning. It would be kinder for you to just let your patients die. But you couldn't do it. Partially because you were punished anytime someone died before your captors wanted them to, but also because you were a medic. YOu were there to heal. You couldn't stomach letting someone die by your hand.

"Answer me!" The man snarls, bringing you back to the present, "For god's sake y' never talk, fuckin' mute." You don't respond, of course. Just finish your task and leave him to his thoughts.

He’s angrier after that time, you’ve noticed. The few times you're actually present, he’s fighting you. Usually not with words, but he bucks and doesn’t hold still. He’s tried to grab your medical supplies countless times, and one time you actually had to be pulled out because he jerked his arm while you were stitching him and somehow managed to drive the needle into your own hand. The few times he does actually yell at you, you’re usually not paying attention. You can catch words like “Dishonorable”  and “Disgraceful”. You aren’t entirely sure of the context of the words, but you can guess. You’ve treated enough prisoners who think that you are the world's worst human being, a blight to the medical field, to guess what he's trying to tell you. 

It's funny though, this man so full of hate. Because, for the first time in goodness knows how long, your feet are on the ground, and your head is level. Something about this man, his angry, uncrushed demeanor, even after weeks of torture, stirs emotion in you that you can’t quite identify. And maybe you should be grateful, thankful your head is on right, but you're not. You so desperately want to go back to that place of apathy and detachment, where your emotions weren’t so strong, were the pains of mishealed bones and poorly healed scars didn’t plague your waking moments. 

Or maybe it wasn’t the man- The Ghost, as you found out he was called. Maybe it was the fact that something in the air had changed. The air was electric, charged with tension so thick you could feel it even alone in your cot. They were watching you, you could tell. Could feel their eyes tracking your movements in a way they hadn’t since first giving you freedom to move around. 

You're not sure why. It’s not like you have anyone to go home to. You were an only child, and your parents had died long before you reached 18. All you had was your team, a team that had seemingly abandoned you. So why would you leave? There was nowhere to go. And yet they watched you. Was it because you were becoming more aware, more grounded then you had been in a long while? Was it the man, Ghost, who had them on edge? 

The answer came two days later. You were in Ghost's cell again, desperately packing gauze into a gaping hole on his side. You don’t know what had happened, but for the first time in years you were dragged from your cell, your captors muttering under their breath in a language you still didn’t understand as they thrust you into his cell. Blood was everywhere. Your best guess was that Ghost had been struggling and an instrument had slipped and gouged out a hole in his side. So here you are, packing gauze into the wound as you try to figure out what to do to keep him alive with your rudimentary supplies. 

You pack another piece of gauze in just as the door goes flying open. Men, dressed in black, wearing the same mask Ghost was, come bursting in. 

“Get back!” The one in the front yells at you, gun pointed in your face. You shake your head, hands pressed against Ghost’s wound. 

“Now!” You make a protesting noise, trying to gesture with your chin. The man looks down, eyes widening. 

“Aw shit- are you the medic?” You nod almost desperately. The man looks at you again, staring at your hands. They are shaking, pressed against the wound as you try to keep Ghost from bleeding out. 

“Fix him.” The man snaps. You shake your head and look up at the man, trying to communicate that you need more supplies. 

“Use your words.” The man gabs the gun at you, indicating he wants you to get on with it. You stomp your foot, shaking your head again. 

“What, what's that supposed..…you can’t speak, can you?” You nod, glad he finally got it. The man groans, lowering his gun.

“You’re coming with us, but you make one wrong move, and I mean one, I will put a bullet through your brain before you can even speak. Got it?” He gestures to the other two men with him, and together you lift Ghost up, carrying him out to safety.

A/N- anyways, here's part one. Sorry if it disappoints anyone

tags, sorry if i missed any:

@redzluvvesage @just-a-harmless-potato-05  @vesna-the-spring @princess312 @norsehorseofcourse-blog @bonniperinktrance @soggywafflezz  @littlebunie @sirbonesly @havoc973 @mommymilkers0526 @thegreyjoyed @pinkiliciousgunp0int @poopoobuttsy @darcellethedreamer @kamote-kuneho

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 cabin confessions : percy jackson

▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

y/n loves gushing about Percy to her siblings, Percy accidentally finds out about this and he's absolutely obsessed with it.

author: i'll never get tired of cabin ten reader x percy, probs will write more abt them because ugh i just love them, also mentions of marriage!!

She sits on her bed, a brush in her hand as she gently runs it through the little girl's hair, her touch tender and soothing, pouring care into each stroke through the knots.

Her siblings sit in a circle around her on the floor, listening to her and hanging onto her every word as she recalls the time she was just friends with Percy.

"How come you two started dating?" Lacy asks, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

They already know how the story goes, they have heard about it at least twice now, but every time they look as interested on it as if it was their first time hearing about it.

"We were friends for a long time. I always thought that's all we would ever be." She starts, settling down the brush. "Percy was just... you know, Percy. All charming and brave and, well— completely clueless about my crush on him."

One of them giggles. "You had a crush on him first? wasn't he the one that asked you out?"

"Yes, he was, but it took him long enough to do it." she replies, smiling fondly at the memory as she starts to braid her sister's hair. "We kissed first, can you believe it? and even after that, Percy was still a nervous wreck when he asked me out. It was like he had forgotten how to talk and kept stumbling over his words, I honestly thought he was choking at some point."

The group erupts into laughter.

"And did you say yes right away?" Another sister pipes up, leaning forward with anticipation.

"I don't think he would've survived if I didn’t." She grins, her fingers working on the braid. "He was so sweet, he took me out for a picnic by the lake and he was honestly... just so perfect. I couldn't say no to him."

One of her brothers smirks, leaning back. "I would've made him work harder for it."

"He's worth it. He's always worth it." a chorus of 'awws' fill the room just as she's finished with her Lily's braid. "Okay, who's next?"

Lily grins at her and goes to sit down with the rest of the siblings, happy with her new braid, and the next sister in line takes her place on the bed while y/n grabs the brush again.

She knows they're not done with their questions. "And how did you two kiss for the first time?"

Beaming at the question, she tells the whole story again and again, going through the details while keeping everyone's hair knotless and braided.

Percy has always been amused by y/n's relationship with her siblings. Besides Tyson, he doesn't have anyone else to share a cabin with, so he doesn’t really get too many bonding opportunities as she does. She always tells him about the endless afternoons of talking, the movie nights, the blanket forts, and he can't help but feel just the tiniest bit of envy as he listens.

Right now, Tyson isn't even around because he's too busy to come back to camp this summer. So even if Percy's trying hard to respect his girlfriend's quality time with her siblings this afternoon, he ends up missing her too much.

Which leads him here, finally giving up on spending time by himself, he heads towards cabin 10, hoping y/n will let him crash her sleepover because he just needs to see her.

However, just when he's about to knock on the wooden door, he notices it's slightly cracked open. Laughter spills out, and he can even pick up her laugh among the others.

He doesn’t mean to pry, really, but it's not his fault that just when he's about to announce himself, he hears one of her little sisters asking. "And do you think you'll marry him?"

Percy stops right on his track, something just tells him they're talking about him. His suspicions only get confirmed when y/n is the one replying to the question. "Well, we're still young. But I can't picture myself marrying anyone else, you know?"

Gasps and excited chatter fill the room. Some of them beg for her to be flower girls at the wedding, while she tries, and fails, to get them to quiet down.

Percy's frozen in his spot. His heart skips a beat or two at her words. He leans against the doorframe, unable to stop the smile creeping across his face.

"Do you think he wants to marry you, too?" another one asks when the room finally falls silent again.

He does. Percy wants to make his presence known just to answer the question himself.

y/n chuckles softly "Well that's something that you'd have to ask him. But I sure hope so."

"You should propose to him instead." one suggests, they all break into a fit of giggles.

"Maybe I should. Do you reckon he'd like that?" She asks playfully.

Another sibling chimes in "He'd probably faint right on the spot."

Percy can't help himself anymore. Before he can think it through, his knuckles softly knock on the door. Everyone immediately falls silent, turning to look at the doorway, where he's shyly standing.

y/n's smile grows bigger once she looks up and finds him there. "Percy!"

"hope i'm not interrupting anything." he steps in, trying to keep his cool even though his heart is racing.

The Aphrodite kids exchange mischievous looks, some covering their mouths to hide their giggles. Lacy's the one to pipe up. "We were just talking about you!"

"Oh, really?" Percy has to act as if he didn’t know that already, raising his eyebrows as he glances at y/n, her cheeks are already tinted a pretty shade of pink. "Good things, I hope?"

"Of course" she recovers quickly, making some space for him to sit beside her on the bed. "What are you doing here?"

Percy carefully steps around the circle of Aphrodite kids on the floor and plops down beside her. "Just missed you." He replies simply, already reaching for her hand.

Her siblings immediately protest. "Don't distract her! it's her turn to braid."

She laughs, setting the brush down and instead taking Percy's hand, her delicate fingers lacing with his. "Don't worry, I'll still braid everyone's hair. Percy's just here to join the fun."

He chuckles, playfully shrugging. "I've always wanted to learn how to braid, I guess"

Her siblings break into laughter, and y/n rolls her eyes affectionately. That's how Percy ends up being instructed by a bunch of Aphrodite children on how to make a perfect braid while he listens to their chatter, laughing as they share stories with him.

Every now and then, y/n sneaks a glance at him, her eyes soft with affection and he remembers what he overheard. He will never forget it. But everytime she looks at him, he knows she wasn't lying just by the love he's able to see in her eyes.

Later, when everyone is happy with their braids and every story they could think about has been told, they start to drift away to their different sides of the cabin and Percy finds his perfect opportunity to mention what he overheard. He can't keep it to himself any longer.

"For the record." He starts, tugging her closer to him. "I can't picture myself marrying anyone else either."

Her breath catches and her face turns crimson. She immediately hides her face against his chest. "You weren't supposed to hear that!"

Percy laughs, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a soft kiss against her temple. "Just let me take care of the proposal, yeah?"

She's utterly embarrased, but she finally laughs, swatting his chest lightly as she mumbles. "Deal"

They settle back into each other’s arms, the warmth of the moment lingering between them as they think about how lucky they are to have each other. Next time, when her siblings gather around her bed asking questions, she’ll have some news to share with them.

[starkissedmallow]

Uh, hi. I would like to request a texting things where the reader accidentally sends a ‘hear me out’ to the person they’re ‘hearing out’ thinking it’s like, Mina or something. Feel free to ignore though.

btw I love ur writing

Accidentally Sending The MHA Boys a “Hear Me Out” Text pt. 1

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, anon! I hope that you enjoy! I’m going to break this up into two parts since it’ll be a bit long. Part two will be up tomorrow!

IZUKU MIDORIYA-

- You were so excited to gush over how much you liked Izuku to your friend that you didn’t realize who you actually texted until it was too late

- About a few minutes after sending the text you quickly received a response back

- Your face went red as you realized who you actually texted. It was your crush. Izuku Midoriya!

- He had sent you a text back and you were nervous to see what he said

- “Uh, you think I’m attractive? Thank you, y/n! No one’s ever told me that before. I’m flattered.”

- “I think you’re really cute too, y/n!”

BAKUGOU KATSUKI-

- You have been gushing about your new crush, Bakugou Katsuki, to your best friend for hours now

- Going on and on about how cute he is and how attractive you think he is when he’s working out

- Thing is your friend had been responding up until you sent the last message and you were wondering why they haven’t responded yet

- The message you sent was particularly clear on how you felt about Bakugou and you were eager to see what your friend had said

- A look of fear crossed your expression as you realized who you actually texted

- It was Bakugou. Your crush. The man you’ve loved since childhood.

- And he was very confused in his response. You really messed up your chances big time.

- “Huh? What the hell are you talking about?”

- “Are you messing with me?”

- Now you really messed up big time. And now Bakugou was calling you and you had allot of explaining to do.

KIRISHIMA EIJIRO-

- You were so excited to get home and send a text to your best friend about all of your thoughts about Kirishima

- You could go on for hours about how much you wanted to spend time with him and just be near his energetic self

- He was a longtime crush of yours but you haven’t mustered up the courage to ask him out

- You decided that you would ask your friend how you should confess your feelings to Kiri and you were describing in detail everything you loved about him

- Little did you know was that you accidentally sent that very detailed text to Kirishima instead of your best friend until you checked if your friend had seen the text or not

- Crap. Now you really messed up. And now he was typing back a response.

- Kirishima sends back a winking emoji and a short text back which reads, “Haha, really? That’s awesome, y/n! I really like you too. Let’s hangout sometime. What do you say?”

SHOTO TODOROKI-

- Shoto had asked you to hangout with him later that week and you were so excited to tell your best friend all about it

- Including adding in your personal thoughts about the red and white haired hero

- These were some deep and emotional feelings that you had kept hidden until now that you sent them over to your best friend

- You wait a few minutes and then hear the ding of your text notifications, eager to see what your friend said you quickly open up your texts

- The message you saw surprised you and you quickly realized you texted the wrong person

- “You sure do think a lot about me, y/n. That’s not entirely unexpected…”

- “How about we go and grab some coffee at the local café sometime, just you and me?”

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

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Chapter 12

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: consumption of alcohol, Reader gets drunk, mention of self-harm (wanting to bite thumb. Again.), thinking of self-harm (Reader wants to make herself pass out by smashing her head against something), probably near panic attack, one (1) tiny undescriptive vomit scene, kind of implied death threat/threat(s) in general (?),  slight obsessive and possessive themes, overall slight yandere themes near the end, toxic relationship/marriage, underage drinking (only a sip but still), Lant being the POS he always have been. Please tell me if I missed any.

Not exactly NSFW warnings: encouraging implied non-con

NOTE: if he’s completely out of character, just pretend Dion’s sleep deprivation is finally catching up to him.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY DANGEROUS AND TOXIC.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT OR REBLOG ANYTHING FANDOM RELATED (FICW, ART, ETC.) DNI

= = =  

The walk to the dining room feels like a death march. Every step makes your legs grow weaker, knees throbbing harder. The echo of your heels sets your nerves on fire, imagining it getting louder and louder as you run away, until you reach the front doors. But, of course, you would only get lost in this maze-like structure. And if you somehow manage to reach the front door, you would be killed on sight.

That much is obvious. 

The truth of the fact only makes you crave to bite your thumb. Almost giving in until you see Hana shake her head no once she notices.

You wish you were back in the room with Anne and Charis. To hear them gush over ‘girly’ things while Hana scolds them for not doing their job. 

You wish you were home. 

Your mouth is shut tight, shoulders stiff as your head hangs low. Like you were being led to your own execution, Lant giving the order as Dion carried it out. You wouldn’t be surprised if that were to happen, someday. Sooner rather than later.

The black lace at the hem of your dress covers your shoes, barely grazing the floor. The cold air nips at your exposed skin. Your bun is starting to feel a little too tight, pulling at your scalp despite Hana being extremely careful with it. The neck piece has been choking you, but now it’s suffocating. 

You feel light headed. 

You’re on the verge of panting, flight-or-fight response knocking on the door of your sanity. Legs stiff, begging you to stay in place before your heart gives out from the stress, you continue on despite the way your head starts to feel dizzy. No, you think, no.

If you faint, it’s all over. If you faint, Dion may become brasher with his advances on making you as crazy as he is. If you faint, Lant might decide you’re not worth the trouble and give you to someone as a toy. 

Or hand you back to your parents in a bodybag. 

“-Lady? My Lady?” 

“Huh? Wh-what?” Owlishly blinking, your thoughts are driven away at the sound of Hana’s ‘concerned’ voice - you look ahead of you. A single door.* Wait.

No. 

This - this -

“This isn’t the dining room, is it, Hana?” It comes out more as a statement rather than a question, voice low as your entire body becomes rigid. This looks more like a personal room. Important.

“...yes, my Lady. It’s where they hold the grand feast.” You think there’s slight guilt in her voice, and the thought does little to ease your nerves. Well, you think, it’s not like she told you you were going to the dining room. Your idiotic self just assumed so. And perhaps, out of pity, Hana didn’t tell you, giving you the illusion of being in an open space and not in a closed off room.

…yeah, God really does hate me. 

Then you remember that you shouldn't know what the grand feast was - thus, you ask her about it a moment later. 

“It takes place once a month. Each month, the siblings are evaluated based on their accomplishments for the month - there are three top spots. Whoever does the best are evaluated highly, making them the most useful to the Agriche family.”

The most useful to Lant.

She continues, “young master Dion is always at first place, Lady Roxana second, and the third place tends to be a different sibling every other month. I heard a rumor that young Master Fontaine may be at third spot this month.” Once she’s done giving you information about it, you nod your head, hiding the fact you already knew that with a small gulp.

If anyone were to find out you did, your head may roll off your shoulders. After they question you, of course. Torture you too.

“I see. Interesting. I didn’t expect any less from those two,” you lifelessly chuckle out, ignoring the odd look Hana gives you. She doesn’t question you, instead knocking on the door before opening it after Lant gave permission loud enough to be heard from the other side. You can hear the pulsation of both your blood and heart in your ears. It almost drowns out all other noises. 

Lant is the first one to make eye contact with you. They remind you of a snake, already squeezing you alive as his presence wraps itself around your body, restricting movement and threatening to choke you. You can barely breathe, lungs working overtime just to take in oxygen.

You feel faint. 

“Congratulations on joining the Agrich family,” your twisted father-in-law begins as he stands in front of the window, “I heard you’re adapting rather quickly. An accomplishment, all things considered.” His grin spells egotistical as his hands remain in his pockets. 

Go kill yourself.

Too much of a coward to say your true thoughts, you give a wavering smile. Keep your head upright. Straighten your back. Feed into his ego. 

“Thank you, father-in-law,” you bow, wanting to smash your head against the floor so hard you’ll pass out. “It’s truly an honor to be here - both as your daughter-in-law and as Dion’s wife.” When you lift your head your smile becomes pretty, just as you practiced. But the corners of your lips threaten to fall into a frown. It becomes more painful as the seconds pass. 

This alone reminds you that you are not Roxana. Cunning and manipulative - none of which describe you. You’re nothing more than a rabbit about to be torn into by a hungry pack of wolves. 

Your skin crawls when he smiles.

“And you already know your place - I knew I made a good choice in choosing you.” His smugness only adds fuel to your fear along with finding the idiotic fool even more detestable. However, Lant is the one in power here, not you. You have to play under and by his rules. 

Even if it means bearing a child you might not be able to love. 

Freezing fear starts to collide with heated hatred the longer he fuels his self-conceit, marveling over his ‘brilliant’ idea. Yet when he smiles at you again, eyeing you, gaze scanning your entire body, it makes your hairs stand on edge. Thankfully, there is no lust in those eyes - rather, pending judgement. 

He nods his head in approval as your husband keeps his attention on his father. Quickly glancing over at him in his seat, you notice that his eyes don’t hold indifference as they did in the manhwa - no, rather, it was -

“Come sit down; our introduction as true in-laws is long overdue.” At his command you take a seat across from Dion as Lant sits at the end of the table near the window. Any thoughts about Dion are driven away as Lant continues to talk. 

His voice makes your head hurt and your ears bleed. 

“You were one out of three girls I had my sights on. The first one was too haughty and the second wasn’t even allowed to attend public events more often than not - it was hard to gather any information on her.” He picks up his wine glass and takes a sip. 

Three girls…? I didn’t know about this… wait, why is he even telling me this -

Oh. 

He’s saying I’m replaceable. 

The realization hits you like a truck, leaving you a mental mess as you keep - attempt to - appearance. Your hands shake almost violently in their place under the table and on your lap. Sweat starts to pool on the back of your neck as you pat your temples down with a napkin the second the death flag turns his attention to Dion, your husband staring right back - after he takes a glance at you, and you shudder at the look he gives.

You can’t tell what he’s thinking and you’re not sure if you want to. After all, ignorance is bliss. 

And it’s that same ignorance that prevents you from seeing how those scarlet eyes soften ever so slightly, unaware of how beautiful he finds you. Well, even if you did, you would just say it’s part of your imagination. 

The idea of someone like Dion harboring any romantic feelings towards anyone - yourself included - nearly makes you sick to your stomach. So, therefore, your truth must be the right one.

Dion switches his attention to his father when he asks him a question.

“So, son? How well is her training going?” The bastard really did see you as nothing other than a pet. The metaphorical leash around your neck tightens. You can basically feel Lant tugging at it. 

You wait with baited breath for your husband’s answer - you weren’t exactly… ‘obedient.’ Avoiding him, refusing and rejecting his advances that took place on the second day, ‘talked back’ during the thumb incident, pretending to be asleep the second you heard and felt the bed creak when he woke up. Unable to act like the ‘perfect wife,’ shivering in fear even when he’s not doing anything, just laying with his back towards you on your shared bed. 

Wait, he’s a sadist, you tell yourself. But he’s also a perverted creep. Wanting to touch you despite knowing your dislike for it and -

“She wouldn’t be here if you didn’t approve of her,” is his answer as he takes a sip of his drink. He doesn’t even bother to make eye contact with him while answering. “She would be dead.” 

Your mind shatters as your heart drops. You’re forced to bite your lip just so you wouldn’t become hysterical with tears. You already expected this interaction to flow in a similar direction.

Even so, it doesn’t stop your anxiety.

So, he really was only keeping you to study how a sane mind breaks. Little by little, he’ll observe you until the day you either become like them or kill yourself. And then what?

The answer is unknown to you. But did they already have it?

Of course they do.

They’re Agriches.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Lant raises an eyebrow only for his face to draw into a disgusting grin. “That’s an interesting answer. But yes, you’re right; the girl wouldn’t be breathing right now if she disappointed me.” They’re talking as though you were not in the same room as them.

No-one has touched their food, only the wine that was already served. You take a sip yourself, holding back the grimace from the bitterness. They don’t notice, lost in their own little world. But the topic - you - doesn’t change. 

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure if it was the right time to wed you off - but I’m glad I did now. The younger the better, right?” Chuckling out the last part, your father-in-law leans over to pat your husband’s shoulder and you swore that he twitched just a bit.

The stress must be making you see things. 

Another sip as you slowly start to mentally check out. If you don’t you really will lose your mind and sanity. After considering it, you start to poke at your food before cutting into the steak and taking a bite. Juicy and delicious, the flavor only reminds you of just how rich this family is - how easy it was for them to handcuff you with a shiny little pretty ring.

Neither you nor your husband wear the damn thing, the cursed item still in the deep blue box in some drawer. The memory of it makes you take another bite, hoping that you’ll be distracted by the delicious meal. 

The pieces threaten to choke you as they slide down your throat, taking another swing of the bitter, red wine to wash it down. You don’t even notice that Dion was starting to eat as well, leaving Lant the only one who wasn’t. 

Drinking some more wine to overthrow the sour taste of vomit as you throw up in your mouth, quickly swallowing it down before it threatens to overflow and drip down your chin. Holding back the gag reflex caused by the repulsive taste, a buzz is starting to fill your head. It’s barely there, faint in the background, your hand wrapping around the stem, swishing the liquid around, studying the color through the transparent glass.

A rich red.

The wine you drank on your eighteenth birthday was sweeter than this. You also didn’t drink much of it, preferring the tea your father gifted you. The memory of placing it on the table, only for Zac to taste the alcoholic drink only for you to scold you as soon as noticed it surfacing. 

The memory contracts the current situation so vastly. It only reminds you of how fucked you are, toes curling in your heels. It doesn’t hurt as much as it should.

Blinking, you continue on your journey to finish the drink, keeping your mouth busy before you start to beg and beg and beg for the two men to release you peacefully. 

Suddenly remembering there was a plate of flavorful food in front of you, you resume eating it.

Your fork and knife clink against the plate, sound echoing in your ears as the two male voices drown out in the background. Stabbing the steak with your fork, you fail to notice your husband taking a quick glance at you only for his eyes to land on his father when he addresses him. 

Another sip of wine. 

Another bite of meat.

The more you eat the more you drink. 

The buzz in your head is only starting to get stronger, accepting a refill a servant offers. While he pours it, the voices of Dion and Lant starts to become distant, their figures slightly blurry but not by much. Lant doesn’t look your away the entire time, praising his son about a mission he completed not too long ago. Since when did the topic change?

It’s becoming harder not to down the drink, vaguely aware of the confused and concerned look from the servant. However, he doesn’t deny you a second refill much less than a third, keeping an eye on your behavior, worried you’ll act out of line. It wasn’t for your safety but rather his - there’s no telling if your father-in-law would blame him for your drunk behavior. And yet, despite knowing this, the worried man still doesn’t deny you the drink that’s only making the buzz get stronger, cheeks feeling hot and a feeling of relaxation you oh so needed. 

It’s a miracle you’re able to lift your fork effortlessly and not choke on your meal. 

Their conversation is one-sided, with Lant doing all the talking as Dion listens. Quickly, your eye flicks upwards and across from you, curiosity biting at your fuzzy mind. It’s almost becoming a need to see your husband’s stoic face, slight amusement at the thought of him not caring and maybe even resentful towards and for his father.

Only to be met with scarlet.

How pretty.

Your head tilts, pondering why you’re so interesting to him - always catching his attention these days. Yet before being wed to him, you were nothing more than a plain and common flower in the garden; there, playing your role but unnoticeable. Only noticed once in a while when he had to turn his head. 

The more you think about it, the more you question it -was it really only to study how your sanity dwindles?

He confuses you.

He scares you.

He annoys you. 

Every emotion he stirs from within you is never positive. You wonder just how aware he is of that fact. If he enjoyed it, even. 

You blink once. Twice. A third time brings out a small smile - the alcohol has finally run its course, your judgment impaired, nothing but confusement and pity forming for the horrible man. 

Does he know you’re planning on asking Roxana for help to divorce him? To escape from this torturous place and start a new life, not wanting to drag your family further into this mess?

Does he know his ‘kindness’ is only driving you away? That you’re so sure he’s only keeping you around willingly to see how you bend and break?

Does he know your ‘affection’ will never be earned if some small part of him is also hoping for that?

The longer you smile the more his eyes widen, surprised you were able to show him a genuine one. However, neither of you keep it up for long, quickly returning to your practice and his default expressions. Lant doesn’t notice this, too busy commanding the servant for a light once everyone is done eating. 

The older man puffs it before talking once more. The room starts to smell like heavy smoke. Thanks to your drunkenness it doesn’t bother you as much.

“But yes, that’s what I’m planning. Not anytime soon but in a few months. I expect you to help prepare the preparations before taking care of the vermin once everything is said and done.” His cocky demeanor is gone, serious as he talks about…

Actually, what is he talking about?

Does it involve you? If not, why bother having you here with him? To use it as a scare tactic? If so, it’s not like he needed one - you’re already terrified of them as is. 

Feeling eyes on you you turn your head, making eye contact with Lant. taking in your appearance, he grins, turning to Dion next. You don’t understand what he means with his next words directed at your husband.

“Girls like her are easier when drunk. It’s best to get busy with her already - to get her used to it. We’ll put her on contraceptives for now until it’s time.” Your drunken state entertains him and you’re not sure why. 

However, your (e/c) eyes travel to Dion, curious as to why his grip on his fork tightens just the slightest bit. Eyes only narrowing for a split second, a faint scowl across his handsome features. It quickly goes away before Lant notices, the man chuckling at his own ‘advice.’ 

Oh well, you think. Your glass is almost empty, accepting your last refill for the night. The bitterness doesn’t go away. You only got used to it.

Will it be the same for you towards your husband? 

“While it’s amusing to see her get drunk, it’s time to cut her off.” Lant gestures to the servant to put the bottles of wine away after getting his own refill. The dinner is about to come to an end, it seems. 

At the ring of a bell two maids come in, cleaning up. You take one last swing before they take away the glass from your loose grip. Head softly rocking back and forth, the buzz and warmth of your person starts to make your eyes feel heavy. 

When was the last time you got drunk? Probably in your previous life, right before -

“Let’s call it a day.” Both daughter-in-law and son look at the oldest with the highest authority in the room. Facial muscles relaxing, one could almost confuse him for a normal man. 

“You’re both dismissed.”

- - -

You can barely walk on your own two feet. Supporting yourself on Dion’s arm, your own looped with his, your vision slightly blurry. Had you been fully aware of your surroundings, you would have noticed the small shudders he would give each and every time your head leans into his arm. 

Meanwhile, your husband is having a dilemma. He should carry you. You would weigh nothing to him, and it would be faster. Maybe too fast. 

Dion has no intention of sleeping with you in your state, the thought distasteful. But the suggestion from Lant was only to be expected, his morals worse than the majority of the family’s. It wasn’t a surprise but it doesn’t make it any less worse.

Annoyed doesn’t even begin to describe his feelings towards it. His face has been looking rather punchable lately and -

His thoughts are disrupted as you trip on your own feet, and had you not been holding onto him, your face would have kissed the floor. After a blink you look up at him and drunkenly giggle. You reek of alcohol.

In spite of that, he can’t help but to find you cute - his eye twitches. He wasn’t raised this way. He didn’t desire much if anything, going along with the flow. Even after seeing Roxana cry for the first and only time, the void that is him never truly got filled. 

He’s a horrible person. He knows that much, hands stained red and sins etched into his bones, hell already reserving a spot for him. The day he dies will be the day he’ll willingly walk into the fiery pits of hell, expecting to see the rest of his family there. 

He’s startled when you nuzzle your head into his arm, looking up at him with such dreamy eyes. But there’s also a hint of something close to resentment, not fully clear as it’s also mixed with something else he can’t put his finger on.  

Like you know him. 

But it’s not as clear as his own gaze, it’s not as certain whenever he gives into temptation and looks at you. You sigh out his name, breathless but oh so familiar, like you’ve known him for years and not months. 

Then, it hits him - you know little bits and pieces about him, but not enough to see the full picture. Aware that something is off despite only meeting him a handful of times. 

That night where your guard was down was already pointing in that direction, but now it’s confirmed. There is no fear inside him at the realization, but rather he grins - how long until you come to accept and acknowledge his feelings? 

Or rather, will you be capable of that? To accept everything that is him - the sins, the crimes, the blood and sadistic tendencies that are unremovable from him. 

He finally decides to pick you up when you start to doze off, your head fuzzy and judgement impaired. Maybe he’ll keep this part of the night a secret - it would only serve to drive you away further. Dion thinks about taking a bite when you snuggle into his chest, yawning as you do so. 

But then your eyes open again, looking up at him as you say -

“You’re horrible.”

He’s a horrible husband. For finding your words amusing despite how honestly you say them. He can’t tell if he’s smirking or giving a rather ugly grin, all things considered. Obsession and possessiveness are both dangerous things. Combine the two together and add him to mix, it only makes Dion Agriche all the more detestable. 

Even more so when his grip on you tightens, unrelenting, not giving you any room to wiggle out of his grasp, the one and only time he’s able to hold you so close without his lovely wife overthinking his every action. Not that you do, sighing as your eyes flutter close, sleep finally taking over. You look so pretty in his arms and the urge to hide you away gets stronger. And had you opened those pretty eyes to look at your husband, you wouldn’t be able to deny that he’s absolutely obsessed and he’d rather die than let you go, scarlet eyes unblinking as he admires you. 

And perhaps that was for the best, the twenty-year-old male knowing it would only scare you off more. 

“That doesn’t and won’t change things, wife.”

Even so, it’s hard to ignore the small sting of your honesty.

===

Note: *in the manhwa  it looks like it’s just one door in chapter 4 when Roxana and Jeremy go to attend the great feast or whatever. I also don't know if it's his office or not.

tags: @tiny-mimi

[yanphighting]

Omgomgomg yandere phighting blog!!!

Is it possible for me to request Yandere Dom or Valk headcanons? Or both? If not then Yandere Medkit headcanons if you don't mind?

Sorry if im coming off strong I'm just really excited to see a yandere phighting blog!!

(Is it possible for me to be 🥞 Anon? ^^)

╰┈❥ YANDERE VALK AND DOM

AN: I LOVED DOING THIS REQ,,, Hope you enjoy this! Had a lotta fun writing this!

♡ Valk always takes photos of you whenever you two hang out, cute photos of you two hugging, sharing a coffee together, you wearing the brand-new outfit he had bought you for your spawnday. He never lets you see the photos though for some reason always being so secretive about them, saying he's just keeping them on his phone. Later on, he'll post them to every platform he can get his claws on, captioning the photos about how he was so glad to be with his spouse.

♡ Valk as a draconic like demon definitely has the traits of one. He's can't help that he has the need to grab everything and anything you own and have it all to himself. Your clothes are definitely things he'll take most often, sweaters, shirts and scarves that still smell exactly like you. He keeps everything he had hoarded from you in a drawer in his room, cuddling with the items whenever he thinks it misses you.

♡ Even if Firebrand is gone currently I'd think Valk would still have a lot of status as he is the grandson of the deity. He would find demons from all around the Crossroads to find your favorite thing, limited edition doesn't matter to him he'll find everything you would ever wish for, that'll definitely get you to like him! If you ask questions about how he found whatever you wanted he'd just chuckle saying that he has his ways.

♡ Valk would message you an alarming amount of times. It doesn't matter if you're busy, you will come back to see five or more missed messages with even more coming in about how he misses you, how he wishes you could hang out like right now or just him spamming you with stupid messages. Even if you'd block his number or change yours, he'd find a way to text you again.

♡ Valk absolutely swears to himself that he has to end up with you! You're the perfect demon for him, you two just NEED to be together. He'll vaguely talk about you as ' this cute demon he's been fawning over' everyone in the general vicinity WILL hear about you. Valk thinks and dreams about you every second he can. It's gotten to the point where he's most likely messed up announcements or some sort of choreography due to daydreaming about you.

♡ Dom, similar to his brother, definitely has the draconic hoarding habit however he's more discreet about it. Instead of taking clothing items he's more likely to take smaller trinkets and items from you, hair ties, small plushies that once littered your bed and even a bottle of your favorite perfume! He keeps smaller items with him so it's like he's carrying around a small piece of you whoever he's going.

♡ Instead of gushing about you online like a certain someone he keeps his thoughts to himself. Dom writes about you as he thinks about you, he'll write about how happy the two of you'll be once you start dating or even marry! He'll also just aimlessly jot down the things he noticed about you throughout the week,how you smiled at his joke, how you seemed much more at ease with him! It just makes his wing flutter with excitement as he swoons over you like a teenage girl.

♡ On a similar note he'd write songs about you! Songs about how much he loves you and how every bit of you is so CUTE! He'd wouldn't show you the songs if you saw him writing them out going with the excuse that it was 'unreleased' material that you weren't allowed to see. Maybe one day he'd show you them.

♡ Dom would have a stalking habit, he doesn't entirely mean for it to happen, he just wants to make sure you're safe! You may not see him but he's seeing you whenever you end up going. You start feeling a bit uneasy after a trip to a mall in Crossroads, swearing that you'd seen Dom watching you from the corner of your eye yet when you turn to look ... he's gone. You're not even safe when you're home. Maybe it's just late-night paranoia getting to you, but you swear there's someone at your window watching you sleep.

[lynnieverse]

undertow // collision

Rafe Cameron/OG Female Character

✰ first chapter!

✰ 3.8k words

✰ chapter song -> control by halsey

✰ tags: morally grey, one-sided rivalry, mystery, mutual pining, tension, redemption

✰ a/n: this is the first chapter of my fic I’ve been writing…let me know if you like it and want more!! thank you :)

Going back to Figure Eight was the absolute last thing Lennox Thornton wanted to do. She had escaped it for roughly three years, and now that she was back...she was less than enthused. Dragging all her bags up the driveway, she braced herself for seeing her family again.

The large white door of her parent's house swung open, revealing her beaming mother. Lennox was immediately engulfed in a bone-crushing hug, taking in a sharp breath upon impact.

"Lennox! You're home!" she gushed, pulling back slightly to get a good look at her daughter. Lennox noticed her lack of makeup, glasses, and blonde hair twisted up into a bun. That, along with the navy scrubs her mother was sporting, told her it was an in-office day at her practice.

"Hey, Mom," she smiled. "Gotta work today?" she was still holding on to her, like she was afraid she'd disappear.

"Unfortunately, yes. I have to head out right now actually, but I wanted to be home when you got here." Lennox smiled fondly at that; she loved her mom. If there was one thing she hated about moving away for college, it was the distance.

They both shuffled inside and Lennox took a look around, noticing more unfamiliar decor than when she was there last.

"Looks great in here." Lennox commented, earning a happy gasp from her mom.

"Thank you! I was trying something new." They chatted for a few more minutes before her mom made a face, seeming to remember something. She turned towards the stairs and yelled, "Topper get down here and say hello to your sister!" Turning towards Lennox, she went on to say, "He was taking a nap and told me to wake him up when you got home." Lennox nodded in understanding, shifting the bag on her shoulder uncomfortably.

Footsteps pounded against the floor above them and down the stairs; suddenly she was on the floor. Her bags splayed out around her as she tried to squirm out from under him.

"Topper!" She groaned, pinned to the ground. Their mom laughed and shook her head, ignoring her only daughter clearly dying in front of her.

"Alright you two, I've got to run, don't kill each other please!" she said before speed walking out of the house, Topper still crushing her on the floor.

"Hey, sis! How's it going?"

"It'd be a lot better if your fat ass wasn't on top of me," she groaned, definitely feeling bruises start to form. He laughed and jumped up, offering her a hand. As she steadied herself, and collected everything off the floor, Topper was practically bursting at the seams to tell her something.

"You ready for tonight?" he asked, clearly excited.

"What's tonight?" Lennox asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow at her brother.

"You. Me. Party." She internally groaned; this boy partied like it was his life support.

"Uh, no. I just got here, I'm exhausted."

"Oh come on! You've been gone for forever, and we can finally go out. Please?" He looked at her with puppy dog eyes, the ones he knew she couldn't resist. Lennox huffed and rubbed a hand down her face.

"Fine. But I probably won't stay long." Topper pumped his hand in the air in victory.

"Yes! I don't even care, we're going to have so much fun." Lennox chuckled, he was so goofy.

"Grab one of these and come on," she gestured to the bags surrounding them. Topper, for once, didn't even pull a face. He just did what she said willingly; it was every big sister's dream. He must have really wanted her at that party. She watched him carry her stuff up the stairs with ease, a brief moment of sadness hitting her at how grown up he was.

She hadn't been the best at coming home for the holidays recently, and he'd really shot up in the past couple of years. He actually looked like a man...gross.

They finally made it to her door, and he haphazardly threw everything on her bed. Lennox rolled her eyes, but followed suit, then collapsed on the ground dramatically. In her defense, there were a lot of stairs.

"Alright I guess I have to get ready for this party then...who's hosting?" she called up at him, squinting her eyes against the light. Topper scrunched his eyebrows.

"I actually have no idea, let me go figure that out!" Lennox snorted as he ran away, probably texting all his friends. She forced herself to sit up, looking around at all her luggage. She shouldn't have really been surprised, she had packed it all, but having to face it was a different story. She let herself have one breath before she got to work, the next hour a blur of hangers and storage bins. When she finally felt accomplished enough to move on, she got to work on her makeup, hair, and outfit for the party.

She was just finishing slipping on her shoes when Topper once again appeared in her doorway. This time he had donned a button down shirt and khaki shorts–the standard uniform for OBX. She grabbed her bag and stood in front of him expectantly.

"Ready?" he asked absentmindedly, typing something out on his phone. She hit the back of his hand, making him juggle the device before catching it.

He glared at her. "What was that for?"

"Get off your phone and be present, Topper," she scolded. He looked at her in disbelief, slowly sliding the phone into his pocket.

"Did you just go all 'Mom mode' on me?" he asked, voice rising in pitch. Lennox shrugged, shoving past him.

"Yep, now let's go." Still confused, Topper followed her to his Jeep, unlocking it quickly before they both hopped in. Lennox smoothed down her white dress and sat quietly as Topper peeled out of their driveway. The drive was mostly filled with music, until the route started to feel very familiar.

"Why are we driving towards the Cameron's house?" Lennox turned towards him slowly in her seat. Topper flinched slightly, guilt seeping into his expression.

"About that..."

"Nope, take me home." Lennox crossed her arms, shaking her head back and forth.

"Len, please."

"No, Topper! I refuse to step foot in the same room as him. I won't do it."

"Then I'll make sure he stays away. Please? It would mean a lot to me if you came," he glanced over to her, hopeful. She thought about it for a moment, weighing the pros and cons. She could let loose, have some fun with her brother, but she could also run into him.

Not wanting to rain on his parade, she conceded. "Fine. But you better keep him away."

"I will, I promise!"

Topper did not keep him away. Topper disappeared as soon as they entered the house. Topper was going to die tonight.

The Cameron's house was crowded to say the least. Lennox had bumped into countless amounts of people, and although she was tucked in a corner, she was no less than an arms length away from someone at all times. She had decided upon nursing her beer by herself, seeing as there were almost nobody she was friendly with there. Instead, she entertained herself with people watching.

Everyone was stumbling around, drinks sloshing out of their cups, or dancing to the loud pop music coming out of the speakers in the corner. Some couples were making out on the couches, and there was a beer pong table set up in the next room over, which she could see through the doorway. It was entertaining to say the least.

The only thing off about it was the heavy cloud that had been hovering over her all night. She hadn't seen him yet, but it was like she could feel his presence, suffocating her almost as much as the thick air. It was the anticipation that gave her goosebumps, knowing that at some point, he would have to make himself known.

"Princess! Funny catching you here." The deep voice came from her right side. Lennox cursed, closing her eyes briefly to collect herself. She should have known, speak of the Devil and he will appear. Lennox groaned and turned, narrowing her eyes at none other than Rafe Cameron.

"Fuck off, Rafe." He moved closer, towering over her with a much larger frame than when she left. Her heart rate stuttered as she looked up at him. He was wearing a white polo shirt and shorts, his hair was buzzed, and he was smiling at her wolfishly.

"Can't talk to me like that anymore, Princess. Haven't you heard? I'm crazy." He moved his finger in a circle by his head and rolled his eyes with a smirk, taking a sip from the solo cup in his hand. Lennox actually had heard of his behavior recently. It was one of the many things that worried her about Topper hanging out with him.

"I can talk to you however I want. You're all bark." Rafe snickered and looked away briefly before suddenly pushing up against her. The breath left her lungs as she felt his toned chest pressed to hers. His cologne filled her nose—clean and woody.

What was he doing?

His head lowered to her height, breath tickling her ear.

"That's what you think," he whispered, sending shivers down her spine. He gave her a once over before pushing off the wall, finally drifting back into the crowd. The interaction left her feeling exposed and alone, suddenly aware of every part of her body. He had always had a way of doing that to her–catching her off guard.

Lennox had disliked Rafe for as long as she could remember. There was no specific incident, not really, but she hated the way he treated people.

Nobody really remembered, but it was Rafe who started all the hatred between the Kooks and the Pogues. Sure, there had always been some tension, but it rarely ever went farther than some choice words. She remembered how he'd gone home the summer after fifth grade, a perfectly nice kid, but when he came back he had changed completely. He started influencing others to follow him, picking fights with kids from The Cut. Everyone listened to him because of his name. Lennox never bought into all that bullshit, and she'd always been better friends with the Pogues anyhow. That's when her beef with Rafe started, and she clearly still held a grudge.

Knowing her position had been compromised, Lennox decided to move outside, finding an unoccupied bench by the pool house. The humid air did nothing to help the stickiness of her skin, but she relished the faint breeze. Lennox's head fell to her hands, the alcohol flowing from her feet to her fingertips.

"Rough night?" a deep voice called from a few feet away. Lennox forced herself to look up, seeing a silhouette backlit in the yard. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. Whoever it was, they were walking closer.

"Uh, you could say that I guess." The mystery guy sat down on the bench, and Lennox straightened, suddenly much more aware.

"You don't remember me?" She nervously racked her brain, trying to place the voice; it was only when they locked eyes a breath of relief escaped her.

"Oh my God, little Rutledge, what're you doing here?" John B smiled and ran a hand through his hair.

"We're kind of crashing; Kie's parents made her come." Lennox laughed, of course they were. She marvelled at how grown he looked––a little worn, sure, but he looked good.

John B and the others held a special place in her heart. She was four years older than the group, but she babysat Pope when he was younger, and the rest fell in line. Of course, Sarah, she grew up with. She just couldn't believe they were all adults now.

"What're you up to now, any more treasure hunts planned?" John B laughed, a deep rumbling laugh she'd have to get used to. Topper had filled her in on a lot of the OBX drama via phone call while she was away, but she still had a hard time believing it.

"Definitely not. You didn't hear? I'm going to be a father." Lennox gasped, her eyes widening. John B, a dad? Was he not still a teenager?

"Oh wow, congratulations...who else knows?"

"Pretty much everyone. The group found out on our last...adventure," he shot her a look. "and Rafe was surprisingly cool." Lennox rolled her eyes at the mention of Sarah's brother. John B noticed immediately, snickering. "Still have it in for him, huh?"

"He's a dick. I don't like dicks." John B cackled. "You know what I mean!" she shouted before dissolving into her own fit of giggles.

"Well, that's no reason to isolate yourself from the party. Come hang with us, I know JJ would love to see you." He made kissy noises and dragged her to her feet.

"Oh please, I'm sure he's over his school girl crush by now."

"He is, him and Kie are going strong, actually." She raised her eyebrows, impressed.

"Unexpected, but hell yeah." They both head back inside, into the living room where the Pogues were occupying the sofas.

"Lenny?" JJ called, jumping up from where he was sitting. The other heads snapped in her direction, while she stood and awkwardly waved.

"The prodigal daughter returns!" JJ shouted, running over quickly to wrap her in a bear hug. She grunted in surprise at the force, but wrapped her arms around him.

"Hey, JJ, I missed you," she smiled from ear to ear. As he stepped back, Lennox noticed a faint blush on his cheeks. She glanced over to Kie who just rolled her eyes.

"JJ, get back over here," she shouted, but there was no anger in her tone, only fondness.

Lennox chuckled and took a seat next to Pope.

"Hey kid, how've you been?" Pope playfully rolled his eyes, holding out his hand for their not-so-secret handshake.

"Not a kid anymore, Lenny."

"Yeah yeah, sure P," she said, noticing an unfamiliar face on his other side. She had long braids and a lost look on her face. "Oh, I'm sorry. I don't think we've met!" she said, offering her hand. The girl shook it, smiling at her politely.

"I'm Cleo, nice to meet you." She had an accent, but Lennox couldn't place it.

"Nice to meet you too! How'd you get stuck with these goofballs?" Cleo looked down at her lap, chuckling softly.

"Saved their asses a few times." There were protests throughout the group, everyone starting to argue about who actually saved who. Lennox watched, laughing along with them.

"It's good to see y'all again, been too long," She said after everyone had gone quiet.

"What brings you back?" Kie asked, leaning against JJ. He tucked her into his side, kissing the top of her head. Lennox hesitated with her answer, not sure how to.

"Well, I graduated, so I'm officially ready to start taking over Dad's company." That had been the plan since she was an infant. Go to college, major in business, then integrate herself into Thornton Real Estate. Topper was meant to go to medical school, like their mother.

"That's awesome Len, are you excited?" Sarah asked, leaning forward to grab her hand. She was already glowing, and Lennox felt a burst of happiness for her friend.

"Yeah, of course!" she nodded, squeezing her friend's hand. Who wouldn't be, right?

The night progressed with endless chatter and the occasional drinking game, leaving Lennox very intoxicated and very happy. She had just finished telling each individual around her how much she loved them when her brother made his entrance.

"Lennox, what're you doing hanging out with the trash?" She rolled her eyes. Stupid Figure Eight boys and their stupid rivalry.

"Dude, just go back to the party," John B said, looking over Topper's shit already. She silently wondered everything that had gone down between them, knowing she didn't hear the full story from her brother.

"Why? 'Cause you said so? Nah, I'll pass." Lennox saw his eyes drift over to Sarah, a look of sadness in his eyes. But as soon as she noticed, it was gone, replaced by a cruel smirk.

Before John B could reply, she interjected. "Top, please. Not tonight. You're quite literally killing my buzz." Topper gave her a look, one she didn't catch due to her head spinning.

Despite her drunken state, she still saw Rafe lurking behind him and rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. I'm headed home anyway, let's go." Topper responded, clearly annoyed and obviously more drunk than she was.

"Absolutely not, neither of us can drive," she looked around quickly, trying to find anyone sober. All the Pogues had a beer in their hand except for Sarah, and she wasn't about to drag her away.

"I'll give you a ride, Princess." He was smug, arms crossed as he peered down at her.

"No," she spit, refusing to even look in Rafe's direction.

"Nobody else here is sober. I'm driving you home." Lennox opened her mouth to argue, but he was already walking away, dragging Topper behind him. She threw her hands up and stomped after them, throwing a quick goodbye over her shoulder.

"Rafe!" She called, trying to catch up. She must have screamed his name throughout the entire house before he finally turned around outside.

"Lennox. Will you stop being so goddamn stubborn for once in your life and get in the car?" Rafe said through gritted teeth. His jaw was set as he supported Topper's entire weight on his left side. Someone clearly decided to pass out as soon as he got outside. She huffed, but did as she was told, sliding into the passenger seat of his black Jeep. He wrestled Topper into the back, giving him a random takeout bag to hold onto, and jumped in the driver's side.

"I didn't think that would actually work," he said in disbelief, glancing at her. He shuffled some things around before twisting the key in the ignition.

"I'm nicer when I'm drunk. Listen better." She was starting to lose some of her cognitive thinking, because certainly she had not gotten in a vehicle with Rafe Cameron at the wheel. He gave her a once over before putting the car in drive and carefully exiting the neighborhood.

He was being nice. Well maybe not nice, but considerate, driving her drunk ass home.

No, Lennox, he is a bad person. He's doing this for Top, not you. He is an asshole.

She chanted those words inside her head, over and over, needing the reminder. Suddenly all thoughts of Rafe and his past transgressions started to flood her brain.

That time he humiliated JJ on the beach, bringing up his father and the new bruises JJ was sporting. How he used to pick on Topper, and now ropes him into all sorts of dangerous things. Every argument they had, every time he called her "Princess", it all bubbled up under her skin.

"You going to stop staring a hole into my head?" Rafe quipped.

"You are such an asshole," she narrowed her eyes, turning to face him.

"Why, for driving you home? I'm pretty sure that's the opposite of asshole territory."

"Not now, although I'm sure there's some ulterior motive, I'm talking about always." Rafe's jaw ticked and he shifted in his seat.

"You know what your problem is?" she slurred, her voice thick.

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Lennox let out a sharp laugh, her head falling back against the seat. "You don't care about anyone. Like, at all. Not a single damn person." Rafe snorted, his gaze locked on the road.

"Is this supposed to be some drunken therapy session? If so, I'm not interested, Princess."

"No seriously," she sat up straighter, her words spilling out faster than she could think. "You think you're untouchable, so above everyone else, but you're not. You're miserable, and you make everyone else around you miserable."

"What the fuck did I do this time?"

"What haven't you done? You torment those poor kids! John B, JJ, Pope...even Kie! And for what?" Rafe scoffed, shaking his head.

"They're no saints, either. Maybanks held a fucking gun to your brother's head! You don't even know them." She didn't know about that; conveniently Topper left that out of their weekly phone calls.

"I don't have to know them," she shot back. "I see the way you treat people. The way all the Kooks treat people. They're just trying to survive on this shitty island, and you torture them for it! You're telling me you really had to almost beat Pope to death over a fucking boat?" Rafe looked surprised. "Didn't think I knew about that, did you? What is wrong with you?" Lennox was on a roll now, furious at the man beside her.

Rafe's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say a word. She kept going, her words tumbling out in a drunken blur.

"You drag Topper into your shit every single chance you get. He's supposed to be going to med school, not fucking around and taking the fall for you. And you don't even care what it's doing to him—or anyone."

"Alright Lennox, that's enough. You don't know what you're talking about," he growled, his knuckles tightening on the wheel. They swerve a bit, but he quickly corrects it. "You've been gone a long time, don't act like you know shit."

"Oh, don't I?" she shot back, her voice breaking slightly. "I've watched you ruin people, Rafe. You're reckless and selfish and cruel. You don't care about what it does to Topper, or Sarah, or—God, anyone who's stupid enough to get close to you." Her voice trailed off, and she turned to look out of the window. A flicker of regret flashed across his face.

"You're a black hole, Rafe. You suck the life out of everyone around you." Her breath fogged up the glass.

The car fell into silence, save for the low rumble of the engine. Rafe didn't say anything. Maybe he didn't know what to say. Or maybe he just didn't care.

Lennox let out a humorless laugh, leaning her head back against the window. "You know what? Forget it. I don't even know why I'm wasting my breath. Why do I even bother?" She crossed her arms and ignored him for the rest of the ride.

When they did arrive, she let him deal with Topper, immediately making a beeline for her room. She flopped on her bed, not bothering to undress and drifted off to sleep, leaving the most infuriating man she'd ever met behind.

[m4iya]

One and only

Hinata Shoyo

A key shuffled into the keyhole, the doorknob to his hotel room twisting as the door cracked open. Clothes and towels were strewn all over the small room, Shoyo’s suitcase wide open, having been rummaged through in a rush before you both left for his game earlier today. He dropped his duffel bag onto the ground before slumping over the bed that was still crinkled from earlier that day.

“I never got time to clean up before we left.”

‘I’ll fix it later!’ you’d said to yourself before the both of you darted outside the room to catch a taxi. You sighed, having not realised how tired you’d become.

“We’ll do it tomorrow..” He groaned, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. He, in particular seemed much less energised than usual. “It’s been so long since i’ve been able to play like that.” He muttered. Picking up stray items from across the room, you recalled moments in the day where Shoyo had been barely able to sit still, excited to dart across the court as he always had since you’d first met him.

“Well, you’ve really made yourself known, haven’t you?” Tossing a pair of shorts into his suitcase, you decided that you’d actually fold the clothes tomorrow.

Rummaging through your own luggage, you grabbed some pyjamas and your skincare bag before heading to the bathroom.

“You won’t be able to sleep properly in those” You ushered towards his crinkled outfit. He was still wearing his uniform, complete with the jacket on top.

“I’ll change out of them soon..” He drowsily mumbled. His speech was slurred, already dipping in and out of consciousness.

Changing out of your outfit, you washed your face and set your day clothes aside to be packed away tomorrow. The day flashed through your head - the exhilarating feeling of being in the stands, hearing the crowd chanting the name of the man you’d watched grow over so many years. The smile on his face filled your gaze as he waved at the audience, his eyes lingering slightly longer on you. Watching the way he dashed across the court, standing tall at the peak where he never imagined he’d be.

That starry eyed, young boy who strived day after day to be seen, had become a man whose name rolled off the tongues of all the people watching him play.

He’d made it a thing to rush to you first after a game, picking you up and spinning you around as his sweet laughter filled your ears. He’d always thank you, cupping your cheeks into his hands, his arms wrapping tightly around your back.

Throughout your years together at school, even after you graduated, you were always together. You still remember the day you first heard the news about his long leave to Brazil. Having been beside him for so long - and having him ripped from you so fast wasn’t something you could get used to.

You washed your face in front of the mirror, the sound of the gushing water lingering in your ears as your thoughts continued to wander.

Reminiscing on the day he arrived back in Japan, you recalled how he’d been walking in the airport, his head turning from side to side to catch a recognisable face.

As soon as he walked out into the crowd, you poked his back from behind. He turned, eyes widening at the sight of you as he immediately wrapped you in his freshly tanned arms, laughter bursting through sniffles.

It was the first time you’d heard him cry.

Switching off the light in the bathroom, you found Shoyo crawled up on his side, holding a pillow close to his chest. Of course, he hadn’t changed out of his clothes.

Giggling to yourself, you switched off the light, crawling onto the bed. You shifted to your side, eyes watching his face as his body rose and fell with each gentle breath. You felt the weight in the bed shift as he slid the pillow away, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer. The lingering smell of deodorant filled the air as your breathing steadied.

“Goodnight.” Your free arm snaked around his back.

“Night..” He whispered after a yawn.

[thedarkzyxabyss]

Some TV and Shattered Dream comics that were rotating in my head for a while + Something I forgot to address with TV being addressed :3

[seagull-scribbles]

I want you to tell ‘em that you love the way that they don’t stick out like sore middle fingers

[Continuation of this]

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

OKAY, SILLY COMIC!!! Sorry to anyone that expected a proper intense comic at the mention of lore revelations but "absurd" had been the keyword. I was going to continue the wall of text but I realized if I went any further I mightve had to add content warnings on my post so I just left it as is. Anyway, I thought it would be funny if Finn's cooking skills and habits were more than just a hobby for him, and at some point he got tossed around doing some missions in all sorts of different kitchen environments over Europe, so not only does it reinforce his more fanciful cooking, but he's also been a witness to his own personal Hell's Kitchen moments, which also reinforced his morals and ethics because hhoooooooo boy.

Anyway, tap/swipe on the pictures and enjoy😊

[deus-ex-mona]

i wanna talk about this mv for a little longer bc it’s just way too cute!!! so!!! these are just a few little things i loved about the mv and the story it told~~

first off!!! i love how nagisa was the one to pick her up and send her off!!!! he definitely just wanted to spend some extra time with her, didn’t he? especially since he also went running with her

even though he no longer does track!! but he joined her anyway to support her, especially since she had a track meet coming up at the time!!

sure, he lagged behind, but she’s still a current athlete, who even went on to win said track meet! you really did your best nagisa~~~

and!!!

the way he seemed to want to hold her hand but held back!! he loves her so much and he’s respectful of her boundaries… what a lad, truly.

he clearly remembers how she had told him that she didn’t have the time for romance at the moment, and he actually took her words to heart.

the fact that he put his feelings for her to the side in favour of being there for her as her good friend so that she wouldn’t be uncomfortable is just… really, really precious. we all appreciate a guy who abides by boundaries, don’t we?

also!! the way he listened to her talk on their way back from the station and reacted accordingly to the topic (though he did respond way more saltily to one than the others, and rightfully so). not only was he being a gentleman by helping her to carry some of her bags, he was actively listening to her stories too! like!!!! he actually cares about what she has to say!!! even though he didn’t like two certain subjects of conversation!

in a world where active listening is all but becoming a vanishing skill, good guys like nagisa really are a breath of fresh air~~

plus!! the way he was so proud of himself for making a dish that impressed her is super cute! he has definitely been working even harder (when it came to his cooking) since they last met and it shows. congrats nagisa~~~~ i hope you’ll be able to cook for hiyori forever~~~~~~

but also!!!! the way he reacted when hiyori turned around to give him a cute farewell!!!! he’s such a goner for her i s w e a r his love for her is so adorable i can’t even begin to find words worthy of describing it!!!!!!!

and, i may be reading a little too much into this, but considering how hiyori’s wearing cuter clothes and is dolling herself up much more confidently than before, i think what nagisa said to her during his trip for the ft4 concert, from the admission of his kid flawgic reasoning for why he said that skirts didn’t suit her, to his confession, to telling her that she’ll always be his heroine, really did wonders for her self-esteem. she’s a heroine— his heroine— no matter what…

so, in short, nagisa!!!!!!!!!! please be happy with hiyori forever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i hope your love bears fruit in your uni arc!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[satorugojoswiife]

What do you think about gojo ships

I feel like I'm pretty indifferent to most of them. This is super cringe of me, but whenever I fall super in love with a character I don't often like shipping them romantically with anyone. 💀 (im delusional I know)

It doesn't help that for some reason the jjk fandom (especially twt) is weirdly aggressive about ships. I know it isn't all the shippers and it's mostly just the loud minority, but seeing so much of the discourse has kinda put me off and I don't really engage much with the ships in the fandom except for rarepairs and selfships bc alot of the time those communities are more wholesome and cozy (if that makes sense LOL)

[jazzzzzzhands]

I love Slime Wally a LOTTT can you tell??

Melly is just just SO!

Puttling add-ins into his slime is like decorating him..

affectionate...

He can have little beads or charms or glitter ..

He's like a Jello... stores fruit in him...

ANYWAYS

Melly (Slime Wally) Belongs to

@slimey-wally

He's sooo cool awaaa!!

[goodfellowe]

happy twtt thursday!!! here’s a little collab @the-gigilefache-arthole and i did where they drew the sketches and i colored them… happy pride!! 🧡🤍💖🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

[merlins-strawberriesandroses]

HELLO I have made a Merlin sideblog so as not to annoy my beloved dearest mutuals toooo much with how much I think about Merlin all the time.

Anyway I made this solely so I can gush about Merlin 😌 (the character not necessarily the show). If anyone wants to gush about him, hit me up (please) (I will love u forever). It is always gushing about Merlin hours for me.