#he’s so unfairly hot ugh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sakkiichi · 1 year ago

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CRUEL SUMMER.

the summer heat is becoming unbearable, but if you can be with him, you think you’ll survive this unforgiving weather.

ft. Kaedehara Kazuha, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Xiao, Kaveh, Alhaitham, Kaeya x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, romance, a tiny little bit suggestive. reader’s hair is long enough to be put into a ponytail in Kaveh’s.

word count: 1.6k.

decided to try this other layout formatting to make the post more pleasing (hopefully haha), hope you enjoy <3

✧ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

If you didn’t know him so well, you’d think he’s doing this on purpose.

White short sleeved t-shirt on, Kazuha sits by your living room’s fan.

A strawberry popsicle in his mouth, he looks unfairly good with sweaty strands framing his face, as he reaches to tie his hair up into a high ponytail.

You want to mess it up. You think, cheeks heated, and not because of the weather.

You watch with envy as droplets slide down the vibrant popsicle on your boyfriend’s mouth.

And then, a devilish idea pops into your mind.

“Kazu…” you call him, a mask of innocence over your less demure intentions. “Can I have a taste?”

Sunset eyes set on you, soft pink lips separating from the icy treat.

“Of course, my dove.” He smiles, offering you the ice pop.

With your tongue sticking out the corner of your lips, your hand closes over his.

Your gaze, however, settles for another strawberry hued treat.

You lean in, and Kazuha’s lips taste like frozen sugar. The hold you had on his hand tightens, as his free one reaches up to cup your cheek, your hand on top of his.

You feel cool droplets from the melting ice cream on your skin, the wind from the nearby fan cooling you off.

When you pull away for air, your lips close around the melting sweet, still in Kazuha’s hand, your eyes never leaving his.

“Now I want a taste, hummingbird.” The samurai utters, taking your chin in between his fingers, guiding your kiss to him once more.

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

He won’t admit it, but your whining’s kind of cute.

Your form laying on the bed, splayed out upside down, your legs kicking every now and then for some semblance of air.

He certainly wants to steal the air off your lungs right now.

“Kuniiiii!” You look at him, a pout he wants to kiss off all too enticing on your lips. “It’s so hot…”

He sighs, exasperated. Most of his clothes have been discarded already, the black tank top in stark contrast to his pale skin doing nothing to help lower your temperature.

“How many more times are you gonna say it?” The wanderer huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m gonna melt into a puddle…” You complain, looking at the night dawning out the window, hoping the sunset brings at least a slight breeze.

“Ugh, you’re insufferable!” Are the words that contradict the spreading pink blooms on your lover’s cheeks. “Give me your hand.”

You stare back at him, tilting your head to the side from your upended position.

“Come on, I’m gonna do something about this heat.” He spats, the fake malice melting off his tone at your sparkly eyed gaze.

Standing up, you rush to your wanderer, putting your hand in his perfectly spotless one.

The air you so desperately craved leaves your lungs momentarily when his other arm hooks under your thighs, starlight kissing your skin the moment he leaps out the open window.

You brace yourself for impact.

“Open your eyes, silly.” You hear, followed by a flick to your forehead.

Galaxy-like eyes regard you, soft, akin to the polarity of a moon against the dusky edges of his smirk. “Didn’t you like the stars? It’s relatively cool here too.” The wandering doll states, landing on a corner of the rooftop.

The scent of nearby wisteria surrounds you when your arms wrap around him, your head nuzzling into his chest.

“Thank you, Scara.” You softly whisper.

“Weren’t you hot?” He retorts at your closeness, tone amused, arms tightening around you.

He never cared for the stars above, and certainly not now that you make constellations shine in the firmaments of his stare.

✧ XIAO

Xiao wonders if you have a fever.

Your skin is all hot, you lay down more than usual, you’re not hungry, and you won’t stop shifting in bed.

He is worried. Is this because of his karma? The yaksha ponders, lower lip caught between his teeth, his spoon picking at the frozen almond tofu he would have otherwise devoured in seconds.

“Xiao?” You ask, sitting by his side, on a shaded area of Wangshu Inn’s balcony. “Is everything okay?”

Sharp golden eyes set on yours. Dark shadows pool under your stare. You didn’t sleep well, again.

“Qingxin…” the conqueror of demons begins. “You look tired… are you sick? Did I do something wrong?” Xiao worries, silk flowers blossoming on his pale cheeks.

You sigh heavily, laying down with your head over his thigh.

“I’m not sick, love…” You tell him, your hand reaching up to cup his face. “It’s just… this heat is a bit too much…” You smile, a little strained.

“I see…” He breathes, relief lacing his tone. Then, you feel something cool against your forehead.

“Xiao, what-“

“This will help.” He mutters, face still a crimson watercolor, as he awkwardly holds the cool almond tofu plate over your temple. “Here, have some too.” He mumbles, busying himself with scooping up some, bringing the spoon to your parched lips.

You swallow the treat, eyes focused on his features, the scorching breeze combing through the dark stands of his hair.

“You’re so cute, Xiao.” You smile up at him.

Now, he’s the one having a heat stroke.

✧ KAVEH

Why did you decide on today of all days to tidy up his study, you might never know.

Droplets of sweat uncomfortably trickle down your neck and back, your shirt sticking to your skin.

You huff, running a hand through your sweat dampened hair.

Now, of all times you just had to forget to bring a hair tie. Sighing, you resign yourself to suffer moving yet another box, strands sticking to your face and the back of your neck.

“My darling,” Your lover delicately calls, his voice honey sweet. “Allow me.” Kaveh’s hands rest on your shoulders, moving up to your hair, gathering it at the back of your head carefully.

“Mmm…” You hum at the sensation, eyelids briefly fluttering closed. “This is nice.” You sing, as you sway against the architect.

He chuckles.

“I can’t let my gorgeous padisarah suffocate in this weather, now, can I?”

You turn around, hair now neatly tied, a golden shimmery scrunchie holding it into a ponytail.

“Well, you could effectively avoid that keeping the room tidy.” You tease, bopping his nose.

“Fair…” Kaveh mumbles, zaytun peach pink painted on his cheeks.

You let out a soft laugh, lips tenderly brushing against his pouty ones.

If you get to spend moments like this with him, you can endure this.

✧ ALHAITHAM

Sometimes, you think there is no way your boyfriend is human.

How can he, in this weather, be reading his book so nonchalantly, completely unbothered by the unforgiving rays of the midday sun?

You rest your cheek on your crossed arms, keeping you afloat on the edge of the swimming pool.

“Are you really not going to come take a bath, Alhaitham?”

The scribe momentarily looks up from the tome, vibrant turquoise leveling you before returning his gaze to the words.

“I’m fine, [Y/n].” Your partner utters, flatly.

You ‘ugh’.

“Rude!” You whine, as you splash a wave in Alhaitham’s direction, soaking his t-shirt, the book on his hands somehow still perfectly dry.

You turn around, your back to him, resting against the pool’s wall.

Suddenly, you feel a strong hand tilting your chin upwards.

Silver and teal flood your vision before your lover kisses the corners of your mouth, tongue swiping over the pretty pink of your moist lips.

You smile into the kiss, but right as you were going to deepen it, the former acting grand sage pulls away.

“Ah- ah.” He tuts, smirk outlined in his handsome features. “I’m afraid not now, sweetheart.”

You whine in response.

“And you’re lucky the book is dry.” Alhaitham answers you, already walking away, that grin still etched on his face. “Let’s talk about it tonight.” Is the scribe’s last statement before immersing himself in his read again.

✧ KAEYA

As enchanting as the Veluriyam Mirage is, you can’t deny the rainforest climate is a bit too warm.

The humidity and high temperature are certainly not helping your state, as Klee urges you to follow her, claiming she wants to ride the choo-choo cart again.

How could you deny her? When her hopeful eyes and bright smile expectantly awaited your answer? When she looks so excited in her new mage costume?

So, you push through, panting as the girl runs along in front of you.

When she stops near Silver Bottle Courtyard to play with some hydro eidolons, however, you are thankful. And you certainly don’t pass up the chance to freshen up and drink some water in the nearby fountain.

“Well, someone looks tired.” A familiar voice speaks.

“Kaeya…” you weakly call, faint smile tugging at your lips.

The swordsman, or rather, bandit now, steps closer to you, sitting himself next to you on the fountain’s stone edge.

“Allow this thief to cool you down a little, darling.” He offers, dipping his fingers ringed in gold on the crystalline waters.

Slipping his hands under your shirt, the water cools at Kaeya’s contact with your skin, eliciting pleased sighs from you.

“I take it this is better?” Your knight teases, dark manicured fingers caressing your nape.

“Much better.” You announce, with a satisfied smile. “If you’re going to do this, you can steal me away any time, my bandit.” You tease.

“Oh, don’t ever doubt it, beautiful.” He flirts back, with a kiss to the side of your neck.

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fairytsuk1 · 1 year ago

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hips don't lie | (s)

pairing: alex quackity x reader

words: 2.5k

warnings: sexual content, drinking (of age), sexual dancing, mild voyeurism, mild public sex, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, pre-established relationship

summary: alex knows you think he's hot. when you're all out and about, the pressure builds till you both can't take it anymore.

The two of you dressed in tandem, slipping past each other to apply perfume and perfectly tie a tie. Still, neither of you could hide the longing glances at the silhouette of Alex's body or the whisper of promise accentuated by your curves. Alex watches you work through your make-up routine while he sits on the bed, already ready.

"Is–what's his name–going to be there? Roier?"

Alex stands and draws close to you, crowding your inner bubble and resting a chin on your shoulder, "yeah, but he'll probably be busy with Sabi. Did I tell you how good you look in this dress, hm?"

You have to remember that you have somewhere to be when you feel Alex's hands possessively glide down the bones of your hips, circling back to your ass and squeezing.

"You did, actually, when I bought it," you smirk at him through the mirror, clipping in an earring, "don't get handsy. We need to leave soon."

"I'm not getting handsy! I'm just appreciating your body. I mean, how could I not?"

Alex says it so genuinely, lips quirked up as he wraps his arms around you comfortingly. You know he means every compliment, every embrace, every little instance reminded you that he truly loved you. The two of you glance at each other before your lips are joined in a heated kiss that your boyfriend eagerly accepts. A dominant hand splays across your lower back, tugging you chest to chest; his free hand slips down and grabs a handful of your behind, "Alex!"

"Sorry," he cheekily laughs, pecking your lips softly once more, "let's get going."

He leaves your heart beating and thighs squeezing together most unfairly. He was so devastatingly attractive, with a demeanor that made you feel like a princess. Your lips twist into a pout while you punch his arm, "that's what I've been saying, actually!"

"Oh, is that what you were saying?"

Your boyfriend's already grabbed his keys as wiggly fingers tickle your waist in the doorway. Alex feels his heart grow as you laugh, hair messily bouncing as your lifted lashes fluttered at him, "stop it! You're gonna ruin my hair, Lex."

He heeds your request, unlocking the front door to your shared apartment before pausing before you.

"Hey, I love you," he says.

The blush starts at your cheeks before encapsulating your head in flames. It's so mushy, brown eyes round like boba sparkling at you as he lets himself have a moment of vulnerability. Your hand comes to cup his cheek, and you feel as if you're precisely where you need to be, your thumb coming up just short of the mole under his eye.

"I love you too," and your empathetic eyes begin to well.

As in tune with you as always, Alex is quick to wave away tears by pulling you close into the warmth of his side.

"Don't cry! I didn't say that just for you to cry. Besides, how can you cry when we're having drinks tonight?"

Alex's ever-present excitement for drinking doesn't go unnoticed by you; it's enough to wipe a lone tear and peck his jaw, "nothing could ever stop me from drinking with you. I still watch that video of you doing karaoke that one time!"

"God, please don't talk about that! Ugh, I can't believe you still even have that. It's horrible! You have blackmail on your phone, literally."

Your conversation delves into nonsense, bantering and lightly ribbing each other the whole car ride. His hand, of course, stays on your thigh the entire ride.

You're a few drinks in and realize you severely underscored Alex's attractiveness that night as you took him in during a minute of group socialization. He'd been steadily killing it the whole night, a hand leading you from the small of your back and laughing with people as if he'd known everyone for years. It wasn't easy showing up as a streamer's plus one, but he knew how to make you feel accepted and relaxed.

Now, however, you're starting to get a bit needy after far too many glasses of red wine and a lingering hand on your inner thigh. Alex is faring even worse. It was as if the combination of alcohol with your high-libidos led to a fantastic product of pure lust. The two of you knew there wasn't a more inappropriate time to disappear to the bathrooms. Still, every look was supercharged with arousal and wanting.

People from the QSMP crowd your table, infinitely singing praises at your boyfriend's table. Rafael, or Cellbit, says something about dancing, and your mind is plagued by thoughts echoing what you wanted to do most. You needed to show Alex how much you wanted him.

Alex beat you to the chase, "Let's go dance!"

"Okay," your skin is flushed from intoxication, and Alex's touch against your palm sends electricity up your spine.

It's a bit crowded moving to the dance floor, but soon, you find your own spot in the crowd where there's just enough breathing room for you and him to be face to face. It feels intimate, just slightly swaying together. Then, his hands are skimming the edge of your dress and sliding right up to your hips.

You lean in close, brushing your lips against the shell of his ear, "not too much PDA for you?"

"Not at all. I mean, it's better than ripping your clothes off and fucking you right here," his hands bring you so close that your hips are flush, "that's what I really wanna do to you right now."

A breath is caught in your throat as you discreetly sway with the group. His cock slowly begins to press against your thigh as he looks at you with pure need. There's no doubt your panties are soaked with arousal as you imagine how he'd feel, leaving bruises on the contours of your hips, pulling you back against his cock as you struggle to barely hold yourself up.

"Alex, I want you so bad," you whisper into his ear, "and I can feel you. I wanna suck you off."

The fact you're speaking so lewdly with no one catching on makes both of your pulses quicken. Practically in the distance, the DJ changes the song, and you take the opportunity to use Alex's aroused shock to turn in his arms.

"Let's just go to the bathroom real quick and–"

"Let's just dance for a second, yeah?"

He doesn't even have the chance to rebuke you, too entranced by how you teasingly sway your hips against his now prominent bulge. To others, it just looks like an average couple having an intimate time; only God knows how much Alex is thinking of the softness of your cheeks that press into his thighs, the way your hips effortlessly tilt the same way you would be riding him at his desk. You act so nonchalantly like this, but he's the only one making you moan and whine while he sucks on your wet clit like a man starved.

You only tone down your seductive dancing when his hands wrap around your middle with no wiggle room. Alex holds you in place, and your eyes want to roll back in your head from the way he lightly presses your lower stomach against him. He always feels so massive behind you like this, like he's in total control of your body which makes your clit pulse.

"You can be so naughty sometimes, I'm so fucking hard in my pants now. It's all your fault, you know," he whispers hotly in your ear, "Why don't we go to the bathroom for a second, baby?"

"But I'm having fun dancing," you brattily reply, tilting your jaw up to stare at him through your lashes.

He gives you a plain look, and the submissive bone in your body leaves your legs shaking.

"You could be having much more fun getting fucked by me, getting split open on my cock. But you don't have to do anything you don't want to," he drops the ultimatum, but the both of you already know your answer.

"Take me to the bathroom," you mumble, pressing against him.

Within moments, your boyfriend has come up with a lame excuse: "Yeah, she's feeling a bit sick!" The two of you are speedwalking to the private bathrooms and clicking the locks shut. Once safely secure, affirmed by the slide and click of the lock, Alex is quick to make work of your body and fiercely bring you into a makeout session with him.

It's hot, messy, it's so wet the way your lips collide against each other. The tension finally builds up and culminates in gliding your tongue against his as he works a knee between your legs. You knew you needed him, but your body was buzzing as his hands cupped your breasts roughly, "ah, fuck. I'm so horny."

"How do you think I feel," he groans, sucking a mark into your neck, "I feel like a teenager, about to come in my pants over your fucking grinding."

Alex's hand cups your jaw to bring your lips together again, tugging on the delicate skin as he drinks you in, "you're fucked up for that, you know?"

"I know, but you like being teased."

"I don't! I really don't," he mumbles, pulling off his suit jacket and hanging it on the door hook, "I should really get you back."

Your boyfriend says it as he manages to pull the cups of your bra down, freeing your chest from the confines of your chest. The cold, naked breeze leaves you aching to cover up, but Alex soothes your pebbling nipples with the warmth of his mouth and slick of his tongue. It feels too good, moans squeaking out of you as he tweaks and sucks at the puckering buds.

He always wants to make you feel good, which means learning everything that made you tick as he absolutely ravishes you. Your nipples were always so sensitive, your fingernails scratching his scalp like the pleasure was crawling out of you like a woman enchanted.

"Yeah, babe? You like it when I play with your pretty tits?"

"Yeah, yes! The way you touch my nipples feels so good," your words come out, exhaled in pure relief, and it is a relief.

You needed his hands on your body, kneading plush skin and making you feel oh-so-good. Alex beckons you away from the door, lifting you up by your hips to seat you on the counter's edge. You're closer to his height now, and there's a brief moment of sweetness as you reconnect by standing flush against each other. He's fully hard now, desperate for you.

"I need you so bad, fuck," he sighs pleasedly.

Manicured hands unbutton the top buttons of his shirt, soaking in golden-tanned skin that gleams under the bathroom lights. Alex catches the sight of the two of you in the mirror, and his thighs shake with the empathetic rush of pleasure that courses through him just seeing the state of you two. Messy hair, make-up smudged, clothes absolutely and unmistakably disheveled.

Neither of you could wait any longer, "wanna fuck you from behind. Turn around for me, please?"

Once you're entirely on display, you have a front-row view in the mirror as his hands glide over the curve in your lower back before reaching your cheeks and spreading them. Your creamy hole is fully on display, and Alex shushes you when you whine, "Don't stareee."

"Hush, just be patient for a second," he doesn't even take his eyes off your pussy, "I can't appreciate my girlfriend?"

You want to bite back sassily, but then the head of his dick catches on your clit, leaving your jaw-dropping in a dramatic display. The man behind you chuckles lightly, gliding the tip between your sticky folds to thoroughly coat his cock in your wetness, "what was that?"

"N-Nothing, just hurry up!"

Biting your lip, you try to jerk your hips back, but Alex's hand keeps your lower back firmly pinned to the counter, "I've been daydreaming about this since you got ready."

Alex gives you no chance to try and speak, plunging the tip in your pussy and stretching your thick walls. You know he's barely inside you, barely begun to dick you down. Still, you're already gutturally moaning, "Fuuuck… yes, lex–mmf!"

He gives you time to adjust, shallowly thrusting his hips with a hand on your hips. You're already trying to suck him in, and he's barely a few inches inside! It's heaven, and you can see the way his black hair cascades in his face as he slowly bullies his fat cock into you.

"God, fuck! You're taking me so well; this pussy is squeezing me so tight," he groans, eyes locking onto yours in the mirror as he starts to thrust earnestly, "Oh fuck yeah, take my cock, baby."

There's a loud 'pap' that echoes through the room as Alex works his hips into yours, steadily burying his cock deep into your folds and dicking you down expertly. The room grows hot and heady, the scent of sex permeating the air as Alex skillfully pounds you against the counter, "Talk to me, baby. Actually–fuuck. Look at me, babe."

Your hand grips the counter fiercely, but you can still look up to watch as Alex drags his dick through your walls over and over, "Filling me up so good–wanna cum so bad. I wanna be good–oh! Uh-huh, 'jus wanna be good for you."

Alex feels his balls constrict as you tighten around him, feet on tip-toes as you draw closer and closer to your orgasm.

"Cum all over me, babe. Let me make you feel good, fuck yes. Just like that, honey."

All you can do is hold on as each thrust winds you up closer and closer until stars are bursting behind your eyelids. You cum with a cry of Alex's name, legs shaking as your pussy creams till there's a white ring around the base of his cock. The feeling of your gummy walls squeezing his dick and your words as you cry, "shit, Alex! Make me cum, oh god. I-I'm yours, fuuuck!"

He cums with a loud groan, hips slapping against your hips once, then twice as you feel him spurt his load against your pink inner walls. Your fluids mix together, spilling out of your hole and leaking down your thigh. The both of you fade in and out of existence, the power of your shared release leaving the two of you reeling as his cock softens inside you.

Your man stays inside of you until your breaths have calmed and come to a slow. He gently works his cock out of you, slowly pulling out as you hiss, "Shh, just stay here, babe. Let me get a towel."

"What time is it?"

A gentle hand comes between your legs to wipe up any excess mess. You jump as he swipes over your clit, an action that Alex giggles at.

"Definitely time to go."

The two of you stand side by side in the mirror, horrified.

"My hair!"

"My dress! You totally screwed it all up!"

"Nuh-uh, that was all you, babe! Do you think everyone's gonna know?"

You would've said yes and promised that no one would know a single thing. But your eyes zero in on his lips' red, swollen state. The way his shirt is unbuttoned just enough to spot a red mark carding down his chest.

"Oh, babe… absolutely."

Alex whines, but you feel delighted.

#quackity x reader #quackity scenario #quackity imagine #quackity x you #quackity smut #quackity thirst #quackity x y/n

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subskz · 1 year ago

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CHURCHBOY AU???? I’M REVERTING BACK 🤩 gotta tie in our original role for him into this new, delicious ask.

overhearing that priest’s son hanji is becoming a councilor at the closest church camp for the summer…. well you just happen to also be a councilor there 😼 spending a summer of what should be spreading the gospel to young impressionable, guilt-ridden youth (i spent many summers at church camp, can you tell 😪), by pushing hanji into the lakehouse and jerking him off, whispering the most disgusting things in his ear, all while he bites down on his stupidly plush lips to keep quiet 😖

not even far into the summer having him begging for you to touch him, and giving in just to taunt him!! “you’re in such a holy place and all you can think about is sex? such a perv”

ugh…. i can’t handle this. now i’m gonna be thinking about the churchboy cinematic universe for the rest of the week 💔🔨 -🐾

suddenly it’s summer 2021 again 🙏 i had a feeling the churchboy au resonated w you from the times u brought it up heheh im very grateful u know what you’re talking abt bc im always kinda freestyling it w this au

camp counselor hanji…we are so back 😼 from day one you’ve got his full attention w lingering glances and “accidental” touches that get bolder and bolder the more time you spend together. you dont even have to tease him for long before he’s completely wrapped around your finger, bc poor hannie’s never been flirted w this much in his life and he doesn’t know how to handle it, esp when he’s supposed to be the shining example of purity. he’s like a lovesick puppy immediately, going from the charismatic leader teaching and entertaining the students, to a dumb, stuttering mess around you. but the way he gets so awkward around you, watching you w the most unfairly innocent eyes and the most obvious blush spreading across his face, makes him even more charming to you

getting him alone while everyone else is busy w camp activities and pushing him into the lakehouse ❤️‍🔥 the added risk of someone going looking for you only to find the priest’s son falling apart in the palm of your hand just turns him on more, and the guilt he feels for that is palpable. he thinks he might cum the instant you wrap your hands around him bc he’s wanted this so bad since the first day and he feels his whole body go hot w shame when you make him admit to touching himself to the thought of you every night. and taunting him for being such a hypocrite is the icing on the cake…degrading him for being so filthy in such a holy place and telling him he’s much better fit to be your personal toy than preaching abt religion <3

#ask #🐾 anon #💌 hannie

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aniharas · 11 months ago

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𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 | 𝘵𝘸𝘰

pairing: anakin skywalker x padawan!fem!reader

summary: you are unfairly restricted from assisting your master in assignments, and you and your best friend, ahsoka tano, figure out who was behind all of it.

warnings: implied sexual content, miscommunication, angst, hurt/comfort

wc: 6.6+ split into three parts

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

a/n: inspired by blouse by clairo!

"(Y/N)! Wait! You've got to confront Master Kenobi, this isn't fair!" your fellow padawan and good friend, Ahsoka Tano, called after you as she struggled to keep your angry, unwavering pace down the hall, away from the Jedi Council's quarters. You slid your fingers through your hair, feeling as if you could almost rip them from your scalp. The Jedi Council had called you in to discuss the raid on Kamino, describing your actions as "irresponsible" and "sloppy". They ultimately decided you were unfit for real combat and were to undergo training in the Jedi Temple for a year until you could fight alongside your master responsibly.

To say you were angry was an understatement. You swore every stomp could be heard throughout the temple. You had only been able to accompany your master on his assignments half a year ago, and now that freedom was going to be taken away again? The longer you stayed cooped up within the Jedi Temple, the more the hallways seemed to spin. It was nauseating, and your master knew how much you longed for a mission. He also knew how capable you were to handle yourself out there...if anything, you definitely did handle yourself at Kamino just fine.

"I don't get it, why would my master do this?" You muttered as you slowed down your pace for Ahsoka to catch up, turning to her once she finally did. You both retired by a nearby staircase, plopping yourselves down to take a break. "He's not one to punish like this..."

Ahsoka huffed in deep thought, gazing at you sympathetically as she pushed your hair behind your ear. "I mean, you saved him, didn't you? There's no way he's angry at you for-"

Your Togruta sidekick cut herself off, pausing as if she had a revelation. She then turned to you, eyes blown wide as she gripped you by the shoulders. Pain shot up through every nerve in your shoulder, earning her a glare from you and her giving an apologetic look in return.

"(Y/N)...what if Obi-Wan didn't do this to you?" She suggested, loosening her grip on you, her eyes visibly lost in thought. "It must've been-"

"Who else other than my master would do this to me?!" You felt bad for interrupting her. since you know she wasn't fond of that, but she didn't care as she continued to look at you, her eyes prodding for you to figure out the answer.

You thought back to the mission. We landed at Kamino. Master Kenobi fought with General Grevious and almost fell to his death. I swooped in with my aircraft and saved him, and I got injured. I ushered him to safety. I helped bring Master to the medical ward. He scolded me, but he seemed grateful I was there. You paused.

Anakin comes in screaming like a madman about how I wasn't ready.

At this point, you were tired of the feeling of piping hot tears building up and slipping down your face, but whenever it came to that particular Jedi, you couldn't help yourself. He always seemed to unravel you, and it never seemed fair to you. Why did he do this to you? To keep you in Coruscant to make sure you were in one piece so he could screw you after his assignments? You wanted to be more than a plaything to him, you wished he saw you as an equal...you wished he even saw you at all.

Shamefully, your hands were your curtains as you hid your face, sobbing into Ahsoka's shoulder as she held you close and caressed your head. She didn't know about what went on between you and her master, but she was smart enough to sense a tension.

"Ugh! I oughta give that Skyguy a piece of my mind," she threatened with a scowl on her face, letting up her scary demeanor briefly to press a kiss to the top of your head. "You didn't do anything wrong. He's always been so weird to you for no reason. I'm supposed to spar with him in a bit...if you want me to talk to him, I can."

Shaking your head, you removed your hands from your face, your skin wet and splotchy from your tears. You didn't want to drag Ahsoka in to the mess that was you and Anakin. Reluctantly pulling away from her embrace, you continued your descent down the stairs towards your dormitories. "I'll see you later, Ahsoka."

You knew she wasn't going to be satisfied with that answer, but you hoped she wouldn't do anything too rash.

Anakin tried to not dwell on the thought of you. He kept trying to convince himself that restricting your Jedi training was reasonable, but the guilt of lying to the Council for his own selfishness kept creeping back. It was crawling under his skin, constantly sending shivers down his spine. He couldn't wait to finish up Ahsoka's sparring so he could retire to his quarters and relax.

"SKYGUY! Why are you such a prick?! How could you do that to (Y/N)?"

Alas, a lesson he constantly learned at the Jedi Temple is that he could never get what he wanted. He heard Ahsoka stalk up to him, stopping right behind him. He took a deep breath, brandishing his deactivated lightsaber as he turned to face his padawan. "I'm not aware of such a thi-"

The last thing he expected was the tip of Ahsoka's lit-up lightsaber directly in his face. After wincing at the heat, he gave her a condescending look, and she seemed to shrink a bit, retracting her lightsaber and holding it at her side.

"Please don't make me do chores for that, master...I'm just mad at you. (Y/N) and I know that you were the one that talked to the Jedi Council about her. You can bully other padawans, I don't care. But you know how easily worked up I get about her!" Ahsoka explained, defiantly crossing her arms as she gave him her death glare.

Suddenly, Anakin found the corner of his lips tugging up a bit. He knew what it was like to get worked up about you, it was the whole reason why he lied to the Council in the first place.

There it was. The twinge of guilt from lying about you to the people you both looked up to. He knew you didn't deserve it at all, but it was the only way to ensure that he would get to keep you. Seemingly out of nowhere, he found it hard to meet his padawan's eyes, indicating his guilt, and in turn infuriating her. She grunted in her anger, kicking a nearby deactivated practice droid to calm herself down. Anakin watched blankly, and he couldn't help but think about how you handled yourself when you were angry.

When something was troubling you, you didn't cause a scene like Ahsoka. No, you would keep to yourself and your friends. Your lips would be sealed shut until you were feeling okay again. You would keep your head down, but you would watch and listen intently. It was only then that Anakin realized that you've been troubled ever since the medical ward, no, ever since the morning of the Kamino raid.

"If you're going to bully anyone, bully me. I'm your apprentice!" Ahsoka's shrill voice sliced straight through his thoughts. "You have to fix this! Do you realize how unfair it is-"

"You don't think I know how unfair it is?!" Anakin shouted back at his padawan, utterly shocking her and making her take a step back. Gripping his hair, nearly white-knuckling, he turned his back on Ahsoka. "I know very well how unfair it is. (Y/N) is just going through what I went through as a padawan. It's normal. I am doing this for her safety since Obi-Wan doesn't know how to handle her," he answered shakily as he tried to regulate his thoughts, but it was impossible with the sound of his pounding heartbeat drumming in his ears.

"But she only had a couple grazes-"

"I would prefer if she had none at all."

Ahsoka was taken aback by her master's answers, for once finding herself at a loss for words. Since when did Anakin feel so strongly for you? Had she just been too caught up in her apprenticeship to notice? No, she would notice something like this. He barely even looked at or talked to you. She furrowed her brows at the thought, her fury rising once again to come to your defense.

"If you cared so much about her, you should've known how this would make her feel, master," Ahsoka scoffed, arms crossed, prepared to search for answers. Anakin stood there, him now at a loss for words. He wished that he hadn't helped nurture Ahsoka's sharp tongue, but she was right. He knew that he caused all this, the reason why you and he spent those nights together in the first place. The shame of inhibiting your progress, ignoring you, pulling you into his mess in the first place felt like it was all crumbling down onto him like rocks and boulders, feeling like he was being pelted with every word from Ahsoka.

"Listen, master, I don't know what your deal with (Y/N) is. I don't know if you have a crush on her or if you feel protective of her because you guys were brought up the same way. Who knows what's going on between you two? And I won't even bring up how all of this goes against many aspects of the Jedi Code, but just know that you went too far. You're not protecting her, you're just selfish. Besides, how could you say all of this when you pretend she isn't even there? She pretty much hates you now, you can't even treat her like a person, and you-"

But Anakin couldn't bring himself to stay and listen to the rest of Ahsoka's berating. He had to find you. He made a run for it, leaving his padawan alone in the training room, all while honing in on the Force to get a sense as to where you would be. Once he focused, he realized that your troubled state of mind was easy to detect. How could he be so caught up in his own feelings and desires that he failed to notice yours? It was like when he chased you to the medical ward, his body could barely keep up with the speed of his feet, his mind nothing but a distressed frenzy. His body has been through far more intense obstacles before, but the stakes of any mission never felt as high as the stake of you. His heart seemed to seize and splutter with every other step, and each one had him worry if he had ruined everything with you entirely.

He couldn't lose those nights with you, the secret meetings that became dear to his heart, unbeknownst to him. He craved the way your skin felt under his rough, battle-worn hands as he connected your birthmarks and scars together like a constellation. The sounds of your labored breathing and rapid heartbeat always matched his own, bringing him an overwhelming clarity. With every blink, your ever-so-versatile eyes stared right back at him. Teasing him, tantalizing him. Wanting him, studying him. You saw him for more than what he brought to the surface, made him feel capable of being needed, being loved.

Anakin never stopped once to take a break until he was met with the shut door of your dormitory. The way he banged on the door would make anyone think there was an emergency.

He couldn't lose you.

next chapter

#anakin skywalker #star wars #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #fem!reader #clone wars #hurt/comfort #angst #ahsoka tano

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typicalopposite · 5 months ago

Note

💧 & Firstprince please 😄 x

Ok so this might be a little different than what the original prompt meant... BUUUUUT here you go :) I hope you like it <3

<3<3<3

Henry stands in front of the large tank of water, eyeing it suspiciously. “What’s wrong, H… you scared?” Alex comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Henry’s waist. “It’s just water.”

“It’s just going to be the headline of every newspaper, magazine, and podcast for weeks…” Henry sighs. “Here and back in London. Grandpa is going to have a heart attack…” He hears Nora and Percy’s voices, and turns to see them coming back with Henry and Alex’s goggles. “Remind me why I agreed to this?”

Alex presses a kiss to the back of Henry’s neck. “It’s for a good cause,” he laughs.

“Okay, one for you,” Nora says, handing a pair of goggles to Alex. “Aaand one for you.” Henry takes his goggles and looks at them, dreading this decision immensely. “Now get ‘em on and get in the hot seats people are already lining up.”

“Good luck, mate…” Percy says, trying not very hard at all to hide his gleeful grin. He pats Henry on the shoulder and takes off after Nora into the crowd of people gathering around the dunk tank.

“You ready?” Alex asks, already climbing the ladder up to his side.

No… Henry thinks, but follows Alex’s lead and gets up onto the little drop down seat. It’s rickety and feels like it might just give from his weight alone. “Ugh I’m just ready for this to be over…” he sighs, looking down into the water just past his dangling feet.

“Okay, okay, okay!” Nora’s voice rings out. She’s got a mic and is walking back up to the dunk tank. “Hello, Houston! How is everybody doing today?” The crowd cheers loudly. “Alright, that’s awesome! Well in keeping with the summer fun we are here to get a little up close and personal with everyone’s favorite international power couple, the faces of the infamous Cake-Gate, and newlyweds… often known as FirstPrince; Alexander Claremont-Diaz and His Royal Highness Prince Henry.”

Again the crowd goes wild.

The rules are simple. It’s $5 to get a question and a toss. There are three targets in front of the tank, one directly to Alex’s chair, one to Henry’s, and one to both. They are positioned very unfairly—in Henry’s opinion—in a small triangle so it’s really up to chance (or luck that the pitcher has good aim) on who gets dunked. Nothing too personal, nothing disrespectful, nothing vulgar… just common sense, really ask decent questions and try to dunk the former president's son or the prince of England. The end of the pitcher line is nowhere in sight.

Beside him Henry can see Alex’s smile stretching out across his face. The first person in the line walks up. A teenager; they lean towards Nora’s mic and say that their name is Cale, and they want to thank both of them for their courage and their influence in the community. They say they are so inspired by them and just love them so much. Henry feels his heart swell. Suddenly he doesn’t dread the headlines anymore. He and Alex both thank the kid for their kind words, causing them to blush.

They take the ball and toss it; it hits Alex’s target, and he drops into the tank. The crowd erupts into laughter, and Henry can’t suppress his own as Alex bobs up and shakes the water from his curls.

The next, a young woman, comes up to the mic and asks if they are enjoying married life. They give each other jokingly disgusted looks, but both say they are happier than they have ever been. The woman smiles, thanking them for their answer. She tosses her ball underhanded… and again Alex gets dunked; this time Henry doesn’t try to hide his laughter.

“Oh you enjoy it now,” Alex teases, shaking his curls off towards Henry as he comes up.

More people come up, more people take shots at the targets. If it’s not a miss it’s Alex that drops into the water, until they get to a point Alex is bargaining with the pitchers to aim for Henry’s. Henry laughs and argues back that they shouldn’t break the streak clearly being made for Alex. They are playfully bickering, and bargaining, and Henry is having so much fun.

Alex climbs back onto his seat. Water drips from his drenched curls onto his long lashes. He looks so handsome regardless of his wet stature, Henry has to stop a moment to stare. The next question asked, and the next ball is tossed and it smacks the double drop target hard.

Henry braces himself… and only Alex drops. He shoots back out of the water like a torpedo. “No hell!” He says lunging over the side of the tank and slapping Henry’s target, finally dropping him into the water. He holds his breath as he sinks into the tank, even fully submerged he can hear the crowd screaming and laughing. He pops back up and runs his hands through his no longer styled hair. Alex looks very satisfied with himself, so Henry feels compelled to splash water at him. The action is repeated back and then they are playfully wrestling in the tank, while the crowd continues to cheer and root for one or the other.

By the time the line has dwindled down, they are both shriveled up like prunes, but they have raised an insane amount of money for the shelter’s, and shared a ton of fun stories with their community. Both of them pose for the photographer that wants one more picture of them together before they leave. Henry leans in towards Alex and smiles big at the camera, waiting until he’s about to snap the picture to tug Alex off his seat, sending him back into the water. That one’s gonna make a nice front page story… Henry thinks.

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #firstprince #henry hanover stuart fox #alex claremont diaz #nora holleran #percy okonjo #ficlet friday

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wannab-urs · 1 year ago

Text

The Spreadsheet Digest - Fic Recs | Vol. 10

Hi babies!!

Can't believe this is the TENTH week of TSD. I really love sharing what I read with y'all (even if it's lowkey embarrassing to admit how much smut I read in seven days). This week I branched out to a Pedro Boy I don't usually read AND I read a couple different series that like... changed my life.

Fic recs below the Pedro ;)

The last great american dynasty - a Joel one shot by @proxima-writes (part of the Folklore Anthology)

I love love love old homes and I also did a research project in college that involved reading historical letters so this was all just a really cool premise for me. Add in the snarky reader and grumpy joel and it's just heaven on earth for me.

Muddy Waters - a Joel / Ezra series by @bonezone44

This is like... weird. It gives me an eerie feeling. And that is such a fucking compliment btw. I am obsessed. The way you've written Ezra is so fucking interesting (and creepy). Love me a murder boy <3 And reader is really fascinating too ugh. This is so cool. (thanks toxic for pointing me to this w your rec ahhhh).

Bunny - a Javi P two shot by @whatsnewalycat

Obsessed with the premise here. Phone sex operator to get through school?? sign me up. The little Dale Gribble moment was delightful and then it's followed up by incredible phone sex with Javier. And then!!! Part TWO we get professor Javi, which is unfairly hot and the recognition from the voice and just.... oh my god it is everything. I mean this is just the perfect set up for dirty talk and boy does Javi have a mouth on him.

LJ's Bangathon - a Pedro Boys... bangathon? by @prolix-yuy

Every single one of these is incredible. I'm especially partial to the Oberyn x Sit on the Throne one because like... murder + dub con vibes and neither in the way you'd expect. I also adored Jack and Marcus Pike. Their dynamic was so good UGH. Anyway they're all amazing and you should read them.

Learning to Live - a Javi P series by @wheresarizona

This fucking fic is ruining my life. I've been completely consumed with it all week. I can see how a casual viewer of Narcos would say it's OoC for Javi, but I actually think it's kind of genius. Throughout the show you get all these slight glimpses into Javi's true nature: soft, sweet, caring, passionate, gentle... but he's so wrapped up in and beat down by everything in Colombia that he has to be an asshole or he won't fucking survive. The post-show Javi who is ready to start letting all that go is so fucking wonderful to see and I love that Cielito gets to help bring that out of him. The little moments of reconnecting with his family and remembering his mom bring me to tears. The long speeches in Spanish are just so lovely. If you need something to make you weak in the knees and a little teary eyed this is it. Passionate, adoring, filthy, gorgeous smut sandwiched between beautiful little moments of fluff and just the right amount of angst. Me encanta esta historia <3

With or Without You - a Javi P/Frankie series by @jksprincess10

Frankie is so adorable and sweet in this. He just wants to make reader feel good and he also wants to please Javi ugh. And reader is so mischievous getting Javi to do what she wants ahhhhh. And of course our dominant little Javi P is wonderful in this. Fucking top tier smut, Nad. We all know I love a MMF threesome fic lmao.

this is me trying - a Joel one shot by @swiftispunk

This is such a sweet platonic Joel and Ellie fic ugh. I really love fics that explore their relationship post season 1 and like... Joel coming to terms with everything. I loved the set up (similar to his panic attack in episode 6 when he sees the girl by the tree) and I love how Ellie comforts him in her own quintessentially Ellie way. You can see the bond they have where she just kind of knows what to do and say instinctively and it makes me so happy. I see a lot of fics where Joel is trying to comfort Ellie or get her to stop hating him for what he did and it's just really nice to see a fic where Ellie comforts him instead.

take what you need darling - a Joel one shot by @iamasaddie

big thick dick daddy joel what more do you need?

punch the clock - a Javi P one shot by @deathwife

Listen this is exactly what would happen if I worked anywhere near Javier Peña. I would find a way to get him to come with me and I would also be a sassy lil bitch to him constantly. Not like it would be difficult to get Javi to come with pretty much anything with legs and wearing a skirt, but still.

I Can Feel Your Heartbeat - a Jack (Whiskey) series by @psychedelic-ink

Cowboy Jack Daniels is a character who begs to be written as a stripper and this fic delivered. He's hot and sweet and I love it. Part two is sexy as all hell and features clumsy as fuck reader (which is so me). And then it drops the ANGST on you. God I love this. I cannot wait for part three.

The Secret - a Marcus M series by @frannyzooey

This collection of drabbles about a much older Marcus Moreno sneaking into your dorm at night is so fucking hot, y'all. I don't read a whole lot of Marcus Moreno unless he's being sweetly seduced by my favorite piece of shit human, Dieter Bravo. So I clicked on this bc it's by one of my favorite writers and was rec'd by another of my favorite writers and... alright. I'm on the Marcus Moreno train. I get it. And the drabbles left me desperately wanting a full story... wishful thinking?

----------oldies but goodies-----------

Soft - a Dieter one shot by @mishasminion360

Home for the weekend - a Joel one shot by @loquaciousferret

Genesis - an Ezra series by @max--phillips (I'll kiss you if you write more)

Perfectly Intoxicating - a Javi P series by @gracieispunk

Es Tarde y Te Necesito - a Javi P one shot by @gar6agef1r3

Say My Name - a Javi P one shot by @palioom

I Only See Daylight - a Din series by @millersdjarin

A Fresh Start - a Din series by @theidiotwhowritesthings

----------my shit------------

Nothing new! I'm planning a little Javi P thing maybe? Based on my username... MAYBE! Do not get excited.

And maybe a lil Dieter thing based on Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan but again don't hold me to it I am useless most of the time.

-------------------------------------

Happy Reading <3

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #vol 10 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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sparklepocalypse · 1 year ago

Note

Camp AU + meet messy + "you never saw me" for the prompt game please? Thank you!!

Oh, Anon, it's like you knew that Wet Hot American Summer was my favorite movie for years. Bless you for this AU prompt meme request.

camp AU + meet messy + "you never saw me": Alex/Henry, rated T

In the time it takes for Henry to walk from the plane to the small airport’s baggage claim, the sky goes from an ominous gray to black. Thunder rumbles overhead, and as he hefts his duffel from the baggage conveyor, the sky splits open and unleashes what appears to be the entirety of the Gulf of Mexico onto the coastal airport. This bodes well for his summer as a counselor at Camp Fallen Oak.

Luckily, the downpour tapers off as quickly as it started, and before long, only puddles remain as proof that it’d ever begun. Henry pulls out his phone and takes a quick selfie in front of the airport, sending it off to Bea and –

He’s drenched, head to toe, as an older model sixteen-passenger van splashes through a large puddle on the pavement a few feet away. As Henry wipes his face dry with an equally wet hand, the van skids to a stop just beyond the puddle and parks.

The driver’s side door opens and closes and rapid footsteps splash toward him on the wet asphalt. “Shit, man, I’m so sorry – ”

“You couldn’t have gone around – ” Henry shakes his head vigorously, and the spray of water catches the driver in the face.

“Hey!” the man exclaims. “Jesus, watch where you’re – ”

Henry plucks at his sodden shirt, grimacing as the wet fabric pulls away from his skin. “Ugh. I have an hour in the car before I get to camp – ”

“Hold on a second,” the driver says. “English, college age, going to camp, landed at this tiny-ass airport – your name’s not Henry Fox is it?”

Henry glares at the driver, taking him in for the first time. He looks about Henry’s age, with a headful of dark curls and an almost unfairly handsome face that’s pinched in dismay. “Oh god,” Henry replies. “You’re my driver?”

“Uh, yeah,” the driver says. “I’m Alex. Claremont-Diaz,” he adds, as an afterthought.

“Any relation to Director Claremont?” Henry asks, already bracing himself for the answer.

“Yeah,” Alex says. “She’s my mom.”

Henry opens his mouth to reply and instead is caught off-guard by a full-body shiver.

“Shit. Let me get the heater turned up in the van for you,” Alex says, trotting back toward the driver’s side. “Do you want to change in the airport before we go?” he calls over his shoulder.

Henry looks at his sodden duffel bag and heaves a pessimistic sigh, then picks it up. “I probably don’t have anything that’s dry enough,” he grouses.

Alex rolls down the passenger-side window as Henry approaches. “There are a couple of blankets in the van,” he offers. “You could at least get out of your wet clothes and cover up with those. I can park somewhere less conspicuous.”

“I went to an English boarding school,” Henry drawls. He opens the passenger door, climbs in, and tosses his duffel into the next row of seats. “I know how to get undressed under a blanket. No need to park out of the way.”

“Uh, good to know,” Alex replies, his voice a little thick. “Heater’s cranking. I’ll grab you those blankets.”

Once he’s draped under a blanket in the passenger seat, Henry makes quick work of removing his sodden clothing. He tosses his shirt, then his shorts, then his sodden shoes and socks behind him, hesitating for a moment at the waistband of his pants before pulling that damp garment off as well.

“See? You never saw me,” Henry proclaims, tucking the blanket securely around himself before fastening the seatbelt.

Alex makes a strangled noise, then coughs and puts the van into gear. “Nope. Never saw you,” he echoes.

#red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex x henry #rwrb fic #my fic #prompt meme

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 2 years ago

Text

All Too Well

A/N: I’ve had the begging of this story in my drafts for a while, and now I finally took time to finish it. Yay! I hope y’all enjoy, and if you couldn’t already tell, it’s based on All Too Well, the now very iconic Taylor Swift song Pairing: Gerard x Singer!F!Reader Word count: 6,155 words Warnings: Lots of angst, emotions in general, good old swearing. Also loosely proof-read, so keep that in mind.

Men sucked.

It was one of the many lessons you had gathered over your years of being on Earth, and you at this point were on the verge of giving up. Men were just intolerable sometimes, and nasty, and just... ugh. Bad.

Especially... well you hated to say it, but Gerard Way. He was supposed to be the super nice, sweet, nerdy guy, right? Wrong. He was a complete dick.

You guys dated for a year and a half and you swore nearly on your life that he was your soulmate. You loved him with every bone in your being, every breath you took was his. And then he fucking dumped you. Like it was nothing,

You weren’t even sure why, there was absolutely no lead up. You guys hadn’t fought anytime near the breakup, in fact just the week before you had gone out on a date with him at a super nice little romantic restaurant and the entire night was filled with nothing but laughter, smiles, and love.

And then he said he needed to talk to you, so you went over to his place, and well, he ended things. Right then and there. With no explanation whatsoever.

You were so confused that you didn’t filly react until you got back to your place and noticed one of his leather jackets he had left the other night, still hanging on the coat rack. And just like that you broke down sobbing in tears of anguish, agony, and the worst of all: heartbreak.

It wasn’t like inviting your friends over and binging sad romance movies over some ice cream and then burning his shit or covering it in glitter and delivering it back to him would work this time. No, this was a full blown code red. As code red as code red can get.

You were a depressed mess for three weeks not able to function as a human being. You breathed and that was the only thing keeping you alive. You just felt so used and ashamed and confused and unsure. Your entire life and existence for the last year and a half was suddenly meaningless and that was terrifying.

After a good depression slump, you turned to what every world famous singer-songwriter turned to: writing an album.

Which also happened to include a 10 minute song.

A 10 minute song that made it to #1 on the Billboard charts.

And caused your ex to go trough weeks of absolute slander and humiliation on the internet.

Every time you went on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, any social media the exact same thing popped up time and time again: a meme of Gerard with your lyrics along side it, or overall people just criticizing him for specific instances you mentioned in the song. Some of which were exaggerated, if you were being honest.

Everyone knew who he was, not only because of his band, but because he broke your heart. And despite trying to be the better person, you definitely felt a ping of victory in your chest.

Long story short, the album cycle had gone really well. Your tour sold out, the album was doing incredibly well with multiple number one hits, and awards were coming your way left and right. Yet the last thing you expected to see at any awards show was him.

My Chem didn’t do award shows, they just didn’t. So why the actual fuck was he here at an after party? You immediately saw him, and despite the dimly lit nature of the room, you knew it was him. He looked... good, actually.

His hair was a bit more grown out and black, he had lost notable weight, his jaw was suddenly incredibly sharp and noticeable, he was unfairly hot and you hated it at the moment.

“Oh shit.” Your bestfriend, Clara approached you. “It’s him, isn’t hit?”

“Mhm.” You nodded and sighed, “Why is he so hot? Why?”

“We are not going back down that rabbit hole, nu-uh.” She stated, grabbing your arm and pulling you away, “I don’t care how good the dick is, I am not going through another three weeks of you hiding under your covers like a fucking bear in hibernation.”

“It was good.” You mumbled as she pulled your up to the bar, ordering you a rum and Coke.

“C’mon girl, you just won like five awards for an album about how shitty he was! Don’t go back to him.” She sighed, “He was a douche.”

“I know.” You frowned, wanting to add on, ‘but only that once!’ knowing it wouldn’t go over well.

“Besides, I think you got an A+ list fucking hunk of an actor staring right at you.” She smiled, biting her lip and looking over your shoulder. You looked over your own to see him smiling right at you.

“Fuck! That’s the dude in the new super hero movie or whatever I forget which one- but he’s ripped, right?” Clara nodded enthusiastically and you smiled.

“If you wanna get Gerard even more on his nerves,” She began, “Maybe you’ll talk to him. But do the whole flirty thing where ya know, you place your hand on his chest and overly laugh at his jokes.” You nodded with a smirk as you shot down your drink for confidence and walked over to begin talking to the guy.

He was nice, for sure. Definitely nice, but like, no personality whatsoever. His jokes were bad, but you laughed, especially after you got a quick text from Clara notify you that Gerard was in fact staring right at you with a face full of envy. Exactly where you wanted him. Salt in the wound.

After a while, you excused yourself to go to the restroom which really was just an excuse to not talk to him anymore. You quickly glanced at Gerard who was still staring at you and quite aggressively took a sip of his water, which you turned away and smiled to. Hey, he was a dick, you could smile about making him mad.

You wondered to the restroom solely to get away from the unnecessary and annoying conversation. You weren’t really sure where to go next, it was stuffy and hot in there, music growing louder to the point where a scream sounded more like a mumble. So you did what any logical person in your situation would do, went through some back stairs and up to some random rooftop balcony.

You opened the large metal door and took a deep breath as you inhaled the fresh, crisp air of an LA night. You slowly opened your eyes again, after enjoying your mere moment of tranquility, to be met with anything but peace. In fact, you swore you felt your chest actually begin to light into flames and your heart ceasing to beat.

It was him.

He was standing there, leaning on the slim metal railing, a cigarette in his mouth as he slowly inhaled and exhaled again, clearly staring off into the dot pattern of lights a large city like this one had. You hated when he smoked, it was an awful habit and while you knew it was far better than most of his other previous bad habits and addictions, you still didn’t like it in the least.

The door then shut with a subtle ‘bang’, and naturally he turned around. And there you were, your confidence now stripped of you and blown off in the wind of the night. You were a statue, just staring at him. Out of... you weren’t even sure anymore. There was no word for this emotion. At least not one yet.

He did the same. Didn’t really move at all, just stared at you. At least he looked like he was breathing, you definitely weren’t. Your eyes remained wide as his grew heavy and he took another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke out of his mouth as it cascaded over his face. “Fancy seeing you here.” He said, only a small smile dancing on the edges of his lips.

You took that as a potential sign of peace, and began walking towards him. It would just be awkward if it was just the two of you up here and you weren’t at least minimally interacting. “I didn’t think you came to these things.” You commented, standing right behind the railing. He hummed, taking the almost nonexistent cigarette out of his mouth, throwing it on the gravel ground, and digging it in with his boot.

“No, not usually.” He sighed, “Label pushed us to, though. We were nominated and all.”

“I thought you guys never listened to your label,” You snorted under your breath, “It’s part of your whole image.”

“Yeah, well, ya know.” He began, “Shit happens.”

The two of you stood there in complete silence just staring into the skyline for probably a minute or two before he spoke up again. “Congrats on the awards.” He stated.

“Thanks.” You replied. Couldn’t have done it without your shitty ass breakup. “Congrats on all your nominations.” He scoffed.

“Nominations are not winning,” He explained, “It’s barely an acknowledgment.”

“Eh, I’ve been nominated for lots of things and not won.” You replied, “Besides, I think you guys should have won at least rock song of the year.”

“Thanks.” He replied, grabbing his pack again out of his pocket.

“I hate when you smoke those.” You commented under your breath.

“I know.” He coyly smiled, placing one in his mouth. “I’m not doing it out of spite, I’m doing it because that’s how addiction works.”

“I think I know how addiction works.” You fired back, eyeing him a bit. Again, it went silent with the tension.

“I saw you with, uh, what’s his face in there?” He began and you scoffed.

“Oh please, what’re you keeping track of every guy I talk to now?”

“No,” He replied, “Just observing.”

“I always hated how snarky you got.” You commented

“I always hated how snarky you got.” He chuckled.

“Oh don’t play the fucking victim.” You warned, “You were the one who broke up with me, remember?”

“Yeah, biggest fucking mistake of my life.” He stated matter of factly. You were processing what out of pocket thing to say next but his words caught up to you faster.

“Huh?” You suddenly asked, your eyes growing wide in shock.

“Yeah, I should’ve never been a complete and utter dick and just dumped you. You were probably one of the best things that ever happened to me, and I just treated you like shit one day and called things off over shit that wasn’t even your fault.” He sighed, “And yes, I definitely deserved a 10 minute break up song about me.”

“It was 25 initially.” You mumbled and he looked over more with a look of concern. “Can I ask you something?” You requested after a few moments of silence.

“Shoot.”

“Why did you break up with me?” You asked and looked over at him. He froze for a moment before taking his cigarette out to elaborate on a large sigh.

“Because I wasn’t myself, and I wasn’t thinking with my head.”

“Huh?” You asked.

“I had gotten back on, ya know, shit, just before the whole thing. And of course I knew you were gonna get on my ass and tell me that I shouldn’t do that shit, so I made the dumb mistake and chose all the fucked shit over you.” He explained, “It was so, so fucking dumb.” You waited a few moments to speak. Maybe out of shock, or just trying to process it.

“Gee,” You replied, waiting a few moments, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything. You’re not obligated to. I mean, I can barely if at all justify what I did with that.”

“You were a complete dick.” You stated, looking over at him as he lightly smiled. “But I loved you.”

“You loved me?”

“Yeah, I told you like every day.”

“Did you ever stop loving me?” You took a brief pause, the answering coming way too fast for your comfort. There was a still silence present between the two of you.

“I don’t know.” You whispered, your breath getting lost in the wind. He nodded, placing his head down to stare at the ground.

“I never expected you to come back, a part of me doesn’t want you to. Not because I don’t love you, I still do, but because all the anguish and just torture and hell I put you through. This two year punishment without you has been completely awful, but I know I deserve more of it.”

And you were actually speechless.

You hated the idea that you wanted to give him a second chance. You dreaded the feeling that he was a good guy at heart. You absolutely despised that you loved him, still, after all the shit he drug you through.

So you did what anyone would do: you ran.

You ran as fast as this tight dress and the heels could take you, as fast as your breath would allow, as fast as your heart could beat.

“Where are you going?” He asked, you heard his footsteps behind you as he grabbed onto your arm. It wasn’t a mean grab, more worry and desperation.

You turned your face to look up into those hazels eyes that reflect your own, lighten up by the barely illuminated box light above the door.

“To think.” You replied, your eyes welling in tears as your breath broke. You shook him free of you quickly and ran through the door and down the stairs.

You wanted him to run after you, but you wanted him to just leave you alone. You wanted him to confess his words and trials of love for you, but you wanted him to rot in hell. You wanted to feel his lips against yours again as you had all those times, but you also wanted to never see him ever again.

Your head was spinning as you finally reached the main ballroom again, looking around frantically for anyone you knew. After a minute your eyes just scanned the room and became blurry, unsure of what the image in front of you was, but you were sure it was chaotic and-

“Y/N?” A familiar voice rang through your ears. “Y/N, are you alright?” It became more clear. You turned to your side to see where it came from, a face you hadn’t seen in years.

“Mikey,” You sighed, letting your held breath go, “I um, I-”

“Are you having a panic attack?” He asked frantically, holding both of your arms, “Shit, let’s get you out of here.” He said, beginning to escort you to the back entrance. As soon as you got outside again your brain began collecting itself. “Are you alright?” He asked and you nodded, realizing you fists were curled into the lace of your dress and letting go. “What happened.”

“I- I don’t know, a lot I guess.” You swallowed harshly.

“Do you need to get home? Do you have a driver? Uber?”

“Yeah, I have a driver. I’ll just text him.” You sighed, taking another deep breath and closing your eyes.

“It’s Gerard, isn’t it?” He asked.

“Huh?” Your eyes went wide, wondering how he figured that out so fast.

“What the hell did he say to you? You know I’ll kick his ass-”

“No, Mikes, no.” You sighed, “I’m just confused.”

“About?”

“Him.”

“Oh.” You nodded.

“I think I need time to figure out how I feel.” He nodded back.

“I understand.” He smiled, as your carb began pulling up. “Well, you know if you need anything, I’m a phone call aways.”

“Thanks.” You tightly smiled, leaning in to give him a hug which he happily returned.

He helped you into your car, shutting the door and waving goodbye, making your promise that as soon as you got back to your place you would text him to let him know you were safe. “I swore she would’ve been my sister-in-law by now.” He sighed as the car pulled away. “But he just had to fuck it up.”

There your phone was in front of you for the third day in a row, his contact still blaring at you through the screen. You had been tempted oh so many times to call, text, anything just to see him.

You were kicking yourself for admitting it, but you missed him.

And deep down you knew better than to get back with a man who had thrown you to the curb like some casual trash every trash day, but 99% of your relationship was different, and you believed him when he explained why he suddenly changed. But you couldn’t just erase away the image of him just casually breaking up with you like it was nothing.

“I just don’t think this is gonna work out.” He nonchalantly stated as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

“What do you mean this ‘isn’t gonna work out’?” You asked him with confusion and despair mixed in your voice. “Two weeks ago we were talking about having kids, Gerard.”

“Yeah, well, life happens.” He stated with a sigh, “Listen I’m not sure if I love you the same way I did.”

“Huh?” You asked in utter shock, “What the fuck has happened to you? You’ve been a completely different person the last week. This isn’t fucking you and I want to know what’s going on.”

“Nothing!” He yelled back, his teeth gritting together and eyes glowing in rage. “Ya know what? This was never gonna work out. We’re two different people. You’re too obsessed with your image and who you are on the outside that people can never see who you actually are. And I’m sure that helps with your insecurity.” That was too far.

“Ya know what, fuck you Gerard Way. And fuck your stupid inflamed ego, and fuck your half ass songwriting that, by the way, wouldn’t be nearly as praised if it wasn’t for me proofreading all of it like a fucking English teacher! And fuck your entire fucking career and who you are as a person because you’re a fucking asshole and a dick.” He scoffed.

“What are you gonna do about that, huh?” He fired back, “Write a song about me.” And that was the final line.

“Get the fuck out of my house.” You demanded, pointing to the door. He gave you a ridiculous look, “I don’t know who you are, but you are not the Gerard Way I fell in love with. So I need you to get the fuck out of my house before I call security.” He rolled his eyes and huffed, grabbing his coat from the rack and opening the door to leave.

“Well, good luck finding any inspiration besides me.”

“That’s the fun of it, isn’t it.” You sarcastically smiled, “I will drag your name through the mud and back, throw it in a dumpster, and light it on fire. Mark my fucking words.”

You knew he had. Judging by the conversation of just a few days prior he had paid the wrath of hell you had cursed upon him, and he knew he deserved it. You wondered if that was enough punishment, or if pretending like you two were never even together was what he really needed.

You shut off your phone, this time aimlessly throwing it across the room as you heard a distant ‘thud’, and groaned, leaning back into your bed. You hated this feeling, these conflicting battles happening in your mind. You had never stopped loving him, and he had never stopped loving you, but he had broke you like no other. Does that deserve another chance.

“See, this is why I didn’t want you two to ever get back together.” Clara came into your room with some takeout bags and you groaned again. “Because he gets you into this weird funk and I don’t like it.”

“It wasn’t always like this.”

“No, but people change, Y/N. And you need to accept that the Gerard who broke your heart was not the same man who you fell in love with. He’s gone now.”

“I don’t think so.” You sat up, squinting your eyes to adjust to the light. “I think he came back.”

“Uh huh, how do you know that?” She sarcastically asked.

“He had the same sparkle in his eyes he did years ago, the same spunk but not in a mean way. When his hand touched my arm I could feel the warmth I felt years ago when we used to hold hands or cuddle.” She sighed, sitting next to you on the bed.

“Yeah, but is he worth going through all that pain again?” She looked down at you as you stared at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” You sighed, “I think so.”

“Hi.”

Those were the only words muttered as the two of you stood on opposite sides of the door. He was still in the exposed air through the back door of your Tribeca townhouse, standing there with the cool breeze flushing through his hair. You were on the other side inside, and slightly moved over as a signal for him to walk in which he followed.

He slipped off his shoes and jackets as he looked around the first floor living section. He hadn’t been here before, of course he hadn’t. You had sold your old apartment as soon as he broke up with you. You couldn’t stand all the memories there and you wanted to run away as fast as possible.

“Wow,” He commented with a smile, “This is really nice.”

“Thanks.” You lightly smiled, leading him to the living room.

“Coffee?” You asked and he nodded. He never drank anything but that, and you knew nothing had changed. You handed him the mug with just black coffee in it, a similarity the two of you always shared.

The following moments were filled with a level of awkward silence you hadn’t felt in a while. It seemed like each of you were trying to strategically see what the other was plotting; a potential apology, a love confession, makeup sex… who knew. The only solid feeling in the air was one of tension that seemed like a wad of rubber bands wrapped around each other and ready to explode with aggressive pressure.

“So-“ Gerard had started and you looked up at him with a light smile. His eyes met yours, and he suddenly remembered how much he loved to look at them. The natural lighting in your place truly did even more wonders to the eyes he used to beg to stare at for hours because he loved to examine the color and complexion of them. They were a subtle reminder of what home felt like, even if he was on another continent. “I, um, how’ve you been?”

  “Good,” You replied with a light chuckled, running your hand over the back of your neck as if you were trying to find some sort of switch that would magically erase the insane tension between the both of you. “Things have been- overwhelming, but good. And you?”  

“Better,” He admitted, “I mean, life could be going better, but it’s not awful at least.” You nodded your head a bit, knowing what he meant and feeling the radius of misery that seemed to drag around him. Maybe that’s where their dark and very twisted new record had come from, the scent and general aroma of misery and despair that seemed like a necessary accessory he wore.

“That’s- that’s good.” You replied and he lightly laughed.

“Don’t feel that sorry,” He leaned back on the couch and rolled his eyes, “I think this is karma coming for me after all the shit I’ve done to other people.” You snorted a bit at his revelation, him replying merely with a confused look and twist of his head.

“No- it’s just, you’re never gonna believe this, but I kinda recently wrote a song called karma. Not necessarily about you- but about, ya know-”

“Yeah, I know,” He lightly laughed, throwing his head back. “I mean, he deserves it.” You nodded with a soft smile.

More moments of the same tension from before followed, and floated between the two of you as small talk was clearly a lost cause now. “Listen,” You finally spoke up after a few moments, “I wanted to talk to you just about restoring something.”

  “Like what?” He asked, his eyes growing a bit wide in optimism it seemed. Something you recalled him doing a lot when together. Like when you mentioned making his favorite meal, or announcing the shows you would be able to go to on his tour.

“Well, just- something. Friendship or something more, I don’t know. But I think we’ve both been pretty immature about the whole thing that happened, and I don’t know, I feel like it’s time for me to be a bit more adult-ish about everything and at least accept that the past is the past, and try to move on.” It took him a good few seconds to even begin to process your words, and judging by the frozen features on his face, it seemed he didn’t know how to respond for a bit.

“Well, um,” He awkwardly replied, “I’m not against it at all, I’m really glad you wanna try something because I do too, but I’m not sure how I could even begin to start repairing any of the damage I’ve done- I mean, I said and did some awful things to you and just tried to make you feel worthless because that’s how I was feeling.”  You nodded in response, “And I get that. That’s why I’m willing to forgive you, now.” You replied, softly placing your hand over his that sat in the middle of the couch.

He looked down briefly at the contact, his pale face suddenly glowing a bit more red as a blush slowly painted his cheeks.

“I- I appreciate it, but I haven’t really done much to deserve it-“

  “Gee, you’re here today. In my apartment, the girl who you crushed, willingly admitting to your wrongdoing.” You promptly replied, “Also, you did admit the 10 minute song was good.”

  “I mean, yeah, it was almost an epic of a song.” He replied quickly as if it was obvious.

“Thanks,” You softly smiled, “So, at least friends. And if something else comes up, maybe we’ll try more than friends again.”

  “I would like that,” He quickly nodded, “A lot, actually.”

This was so uncharacteristic of you.

In fact, staring at his bedroom ceiling, now, the fan running, and a slight dink from a loose screw on it echoing through the room, you had begun to question every breath you had taken in the last 24 hours. Every step you took was now being analyzed in your mind as to how your feet took you here, and your heart interrupting it with it’s beats of love.

His slight morning snore, as you fondly recalled it, didn’t help either, or his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. You were trapped between a choice of freedom and non confrontation to your left, or the sleeping man who you hated for years on your right.

But his death grip was making this impossible, you couldn’t escape if you wanted to, but you were also freaking out… a lot at this point. So much is that you began to feel your lines constricting centimeter by centimeter, and your breath growing heavy and urgent. Your mind began fogging as eyes became dizzy, and were only broken from your trace by a slight shake.

“Y/N/N,” He asked, sitting above you a bit with a concerned look. His face was twisted to your side as if coming out of the right part of your vision from where you laid, grabbing the covers on top of you, “You alright?” He asked. You quickly cleared your throat and nodded a bit.

“Yup, fine.” You admitted, sitting up on your forearms as he gave you more room.

“You sure? Your breathing became heavy all of a sudden and-“

“Yup! Perfectly fine.” You tried to admit as optimistic as possible which came out more as passive aggressive. You quickly got up, wrapping some sheets around you at the edge of the bed, quickly rearranging your clothes on yourself from the night before.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked more starkly, noticing your jittery movements. He got up, and began redressing himself as well, “Baby, I need you to talk to me.”  

“Don’t-“ You almost fired back, taking a moment to stop yourself and lower your tone, “Don’t call me that.” You said, finally pulling your shirt over your head.

“Oh- okay.” He replied, confused as he put his shirt on too.

“I just- I need to get out of here.” You frantically said, grabbing your bag and phone.

“What?” He asked again, squinting his eyes at you, confusion clearly taking over every thought in hid mind, “I- Y/N, seriously, what the fuck is wrong?” 

“Everything, Gerard!” You yelled back, his face now in shock at your roar. He remembered having your first serious sit down conversation with one another. The one where you each pour out all of your problems on the table, sort through them in conversation like a deck of cards, and finish with passionate sex now that you each knew everything about each other? That one.

You had brought up your anger issues, and despite your juvenile level of anger had long been cooler down to where you stood now, he had been fairly warned about your potential out breaks. It was when you were overly anxious and unsure of how to react to something, so you resorted to overwhelming anger of what was causing you to feel that way. This, was clearly, one of those times.

“Can you just- please shut up for a second.” You heavily sighed, him still staring at you wide eyed.

You took a moment to breath, retreating back to your cleaning up after, and finally after a good minute or two, spoke again. “I- we can’t do this.” You stated, matter of factly, looking at him, “This is against everything I’ve held myself to ever, this goes against all my morals, and most of all makes me feels like some sort of whore, so I need to go.”  

Gerard sat still and silent at your self-realization, and only moved with a flinch when he heard the front door slam shut. He then sat, again still, specifically at his wall, and wondered what he had done wrong. You and he had possibly the best night you had with each other just the prior night, and he couldn’t count on his fingers each of you whispered “I love you” to the other. He knew he meant every note of the phrase that came out of his mouth, but now he was wondering the same for you.

“I need a cigarette.” Was all he murmured, getting up and finding his pack and lighters on his bedside table. You knew you loved (despite the fact you always said it was nasty) when he smoked in bed after sex with you under his arm, and last night was no different. A blush always grew on your face and you would always nuzzle closer to him every time he did it, your eyes always glued to his mouth and the smoke that came out of it.

He headed out onto his apartment fire escape/turned balcony and briefly looked down below to the city streets on this cold, rainy, Sunday morning. No better time than for everything to go to shit again. He took a deep inhale after lighting the thin paper, and finally exhaled, looking away from the smoke like he did when a bit annoyed.

In the days that followed, he had set his expectations to be filled with nasty texts and calls from your friends berating him for letting you sleep with him again and get attached. Granted, as cliche as it sounded, the whole “it takes two to tango” scenario was oddly fitting for what was currently going on. He had to set half the blame on you, cut even and sliced to perfection, considering that neither of you would be in this confusing scenario had you just stayed away… but damn was that a hard and daunting task.

He had known from the first few weeks of dating you all those years ago that you were the one for him, and no one would truly compare to the way you made him feel. He was optimistic and happy for the first time in his life, you set off a sort of fire in him that made him feel more human. You were his person, but the whole bullshit of “right person, wrong time” seemed to be the motto of the entire relationship.

He heard his phone ping, laying on the couch and still smoking, a habit that had been indulged into these last couple of days, and reached for the device. He picked it up, flashing his screen and groaned. Of course she had to text him right now out of all times.

He wasn’t even sure if he owed her a response to her petty plea to get him to come over and the numerous risqué pictures she had sent to top it all off made him scoff. It had been months since they had done anything with each other, but the universe clearly had other plans to take the knife already plunged in his chest and turn it.

He simply replied with a “No.” and put his phone back down. If she texted more with pathetic drags at trying to get him to respond, he would simply block her. But he wouldn’t be a dick and make that his first move, at least he would be respectful, slightly, about it at first.

He took another long drag, letting the smoke settle in his lungs before releasing, and heard a faint knock at his door. He sat up a bit, confused and not expecting any visitors, getting up and walking over figuring maybe it was just Mikey. But much to his surprise, when he opened the door, it was you.

You both stared at each other for a good few seconds, before you finally spoke up, “Hi.” You said, simply. He noticed your wet jackets and boots, moving out of the way, and opening the door to let you in.

Nothing was spoken between the time when you slipped off your coat and boots, him graciously hanging your coat on the rack, and sitting down on the couch across from each other. The same whole scenario you went through when decisively saying, “Let’s just be friends” turned into passionate sex.

“So,” He started, looking at you curiously, “Why’re you here?”

“Um,” You began awkwardly, sighing while mentally contemplating what to say next, something you, shockingly enough, had not planned much on your way here. “I came to apologize for running the other night- or morning, really. I just- I got scared and I didn’t know how to handle my emotions and so I ran. And I’m sorry for that, you didn’t deserve to be left like that with no explanation.”

While he wanted to hold a bit of a grudge against your excuse for just leaving him for days, he also knew he was indirectly the cause that put you here. Of course you ran from him, you were scared if you didn’t leave first, he would leave. He took a sigh, himself, composing how to explain his own thoughts without coming off as completely dismissive.

“It’s okay, really.” He finally said, “I- you wouldn’t have to deal with those emotions had I not put you there. But I did, and that’s unfair to you as well. So- just, don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah- but,” You began, trying to find some way to genuinely get your apology across as you still seemed to believe he was just saying that.

“No, Y/N, I completely understand why you did it, and it’s okay, really. You needed time to think and breathe.”

“I just feel really immature about it all,” You continued, “I really shouldn’t have done that.”  “And I forgive you.” He stated, placing his hand on your knee which finally got a small smile out of you.

“Can we, maybe, restart this for like, the second or third time?” You lightly laughed as he smiled and nodded.

“I would love that,” He replied, “But this time I’ll take you out to dinner first, forgot that the first time, well second time around, technically.”

#gerard way #mcr gerard #gerard way fanfiction #my chemical gerard #gee way #my chemical gee #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical romance x reader #gerard way x reader #gerard way x you #gerard way x y/n

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redactedparx · 9 months ago

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so… guys… i was almost barricade at last night(boston)‘s show and

dear god

j everything b also there was this one bit where someone was trying to pass him a bracelet thru the crowd and their friends were pointing to them and awsten totally called them out and started teasing them like

and then they dropped it and he was like “you really want to give that to me? after it’s been on the dirty beer ground? you really think i want that?” and i just ab died

he was so mean teasing humiliating them i need him to mean dom me so bad

‘you really think you deserve my cock baby? why don’t you prove it’ i alr p much lost my voice from screaming last night it wouldn’t hurt if he fucked my throat until i couldn’t speak at all.

need him to throw me around while he degrades me

awsten please just one chance pleas

he did a lot of that kind of teasing/lightheartedly insulting some ppl in the crowd. sm had a sign that said ‘bring back felony steve’ and the writing was like thin and awsten was first like ‘what? what does that say?’ and then once the crowd shouted it to him he was like “that’s what it says? you wrote that in fucking mechanical pencil get a thick marker jesus christ” awsten pls make fun of me i’ll come in my pants

also earlier in the show sm next to me had a sign that said ‘#1 GEOFF FAN’ like printed out arial font and huge and he pointed it out and was like ‘geoff! geoff look! ugh he doesn’t pay attention he doesn’t live in the moment always on that fuckin phone’ and i shit you not geoff fucking BLUSHED kms

o also then every one started chanting that geoff was a screenager so real tbh

geoff also got like 3 different points of ppl chanting his name and otto only got one 😶 sorry otto

side note their insta otto’s so in his slut era recently/pos

there was also a point where awsten was making fun of lucas for being shy and there was sm about a bet where awsten and geoff would pay him to do sm and they kept trying to get him to do it and then lucas said ‘geoff isn’t gonna pay me he told me’ and awsten was just like “did you just call geoff a liar??!” and have everyone boo then he was like cheer if i’m a perfect angel precious baby boy who can do no wrong (or sm w that vibe everyone was screaming too loud for me to rly hear) what if i died

him being teasing like that and going back to his like ego thing the whole time he’s so hot i need him to tell me he’s better than me

at some point right after lucas went on stage to test the mic ect before parx came on i think sm behind me was like ‘is it just me or is one of the security guys rly hot’ and i just turned around and went ‘you mean lucas??!!’ i don’t think they were talking about him b that was so funny to me and lucas is soooo hot

someone got a shirt thrown on stage for awsten that said ‘I FUCK FISH’ and he was like “you guys really want me to wear this?! on top of everything??!”(overalls and long sleeve t) and yes he did wear it p much the whole show(GOD he must have been so sweaty after) and then at one point he went onto the drum riser and was like “otto would you rather fuck a swordfish or a flounder?” then pointed the mic at him and otto j giggled and said “i’d rather play fuck about it!” and idk why but that was just so hot to me

o also during loveless’s set julian got rid of a coat(?) or am and threw it side stage and i saw sm catch it and julian was like “thank you so much love you for that” and i SWEAR TO GOD it was otto like it so looked like him i was far away and he was in the dark so i couldn’t 100% see him b i SWEAR i SWEAR it was otto

i don’t have any specific geoff moments i can talk about i think but he was just unfairly gorgeous handsome pretty the whole time i lost my mind.

geoff is the hottest to me b GODDAMN awstens fuckin demeanor Fucked Me Up i can’t stop thinking about it now

-spiral

#ak #gw #ow #spiral anon #HOLY SHIT???#co signed

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ciaossu-imagines · 2 years ago

Text

And for the last fandom for this fandom prompt, I'm hitting a fandom of mine that kind of desperately could use a lot more love than it currently gets, Nanbaka! It's part of why I love creating for it so much, because I do feel it doesn't get the love or attention it should! For anyone wondering, my lovelies, I have about six more fandom prompts I plan on throwing up soon and then I'm hoping to get at least one, but possibly two, good quality responses to a request out before shit-posting some gif reactions/non-gif reaction headcanons for various fandoms that I have kicking around.

Send me a fandom and I will name a character:

Who I will protect at all costs: Nico is a precious treasure. He’s gone through so much that he shouldn’t have had to but he’s still so cheerful and sweet and pure and just…ugh, I want all the good things for him.

Who deserves better: Shiro! So many people seem scared of him but he’s just a gentle giant who loves cooking!

Who was killed off too early: Nobody. Absolutely nobody that my mind can come up with at all. Nanbaka really did start out as a comedy, after all.

Who I used to hate but now I love: I hated Honey at first. Just something about him really irked me with his first appearance but I did really grow to enjoy him. I don’t quite love him as much as some other characters but he definitely grew on me.

Who I used to love but now I hate: There’s nobody who fits that bill because, while there’s character’s I mildly dislike, there’s none I absolutely despise, to be honest with you all.

Who needs to be killed off asap: I think it’s just because of my own personal feelings, but Inori could disappear forever, and I genuinely would not care.

Who is unfairly hated: There is really nobody, either by the writer or by the fandom. I won’t question the writer’s decisions for their own story, and I firmly believe that everyone has the right to feel however the feel about fictional characters, love or hate!

Who is unfairly loved: See the answer above.

Who needs to sort out their priorities: Oh, so many but I’ll go with the notable one. While I understand a lot of where Enki was coming from and why he did what he did, I also feel there were vastly better ways to handle it all. The way he did what he did was shit and it left lasting repercussions for those around him.

Who needs a hug: Samon. I really feel Samon would benefit from a daily hug. He really does get the brunt of it and isn’t respected enough. Also, the group from his building that we see a lot of, that is Liang, Qi, and Upa, also qualify for this.

Who needs to get out of their current relationship: Either Elf or the man with the scar. Those two together are toxic and take everything horrible about the other and amplify it, at least the way I view and see it, with the headcanons I have.

Who the writers love: Honestly, it’s Jyugo. However, he is the main protagonist, so it is only natural and they definitely don’t fall into the trope of making him just this incredible person with no flaws. I actually really enjoy his character and don’t mind the amount of focus he gets, though my heart, as with most of my fandoms, belongs to the minor characters.

Who needs a better storyline: A lot of characters honestly. I’m not fully caught up in the manga, so there is a chance a lot of the characters got more fleshed out and got character development, but a lot of the minor characters could use more focus. Even ones we really should know more about, like Mitsuru, don’t really have full storylines or fleshed out characters yet. However, Nanbaka did start out mostly as a gag manga, so I can get the reasoning behind why they don’t.

Who has an amazing redemption arc: I don’t think it counts as a full out redemption arc, considering there wasn’t really a lot of backstory or build up to it, but I liked seeing Qi’s character growth from his introduction to where he is now.

Who is hot as fuck: No lies, there’s just something about Rock that really does it for me.

Who belongs in jail: So yeah, funny thing…most of them kind of are in jail? Or guarding a jail. So, this question for this fandom is kind of a moot point, haha!

Who needs to be revived from the dead: I really don’t have an answer for this in this particular show/manga, honestly. The only person I can think of that I would really like to see more of, that doesn’t get much screen-time and could kind of fit this category, is Jyugo’s father. I feel like there’s a really interesting story there that would be well worth reading or watching.

#fandom prompt #nanbaka #jyugo nanbaka #qi nanbaka #rock nanbaka #mitsuru hitokoe #elf nanbaka #samon gokuu #enki gokuu #honey nanbaka #inori hakkai #nico nanbaka #shiro nanbaka

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welcome-to-oslov · 7 months ago

Note

Okay now bringing our ask comment convo into its own ask 😅

It's silly for me to nurture Gersha-hater feelings NOW, when Gersha is being so wonderful in this most pivotal of moments in Oslov Unraveled (fine, fine, I guess that guy's proven himself 😒😅).

But you're right! Gersha was SO prying & pitying in ASB confronting Tilrey with his IntSec transcript, completely unlike Bror ever was. In fact, as you said, Bror had always quickly seen Tilrey for exactly who he was at any given moment yet carefully, thoughtfully, purposefully never pried nor pushed him. Whether to talk or act (like when he frustradedly wishes Tilrey would yank Ansha's hand away).

Anyway, ugh, just making me so mad at Gersha in that hot tub again. He'd unfairly created the IntSec situation in the first place that painfully pried all those thoughts & facts & feelings out of Tilrey's head, then definitely completely violated him by reading them all (despite not knowing what he was about to read) lightyears ahead of when Tilrey *ever* would've felt comfortable to discuss any of that with him.

Even with Bror, whom Tilrey himself says he told things he'd never told anyone, Tilrey still had the freedom to hold back things he felt shame about -- but Gersha ripped that freedom away from him. No survivor should be forced in that way 😢💔

For ex. right now in AKoB, feeling disgusting that Linden beat him & not wanting to tell Bror, being so grateful Bror "magically" understood to order to cum (fingers crossed Tilrey never learns he has fuckin' Ansha to thank for that 😡). He hadn't been able to talk about Spring Fling until later when he needed Bror's help to understand what happened with Gourmanian, and finally says, "Do you know what happened to me?" 😢. By the time of their "date", he had already confided to Bror how he'd been tricked to come here, and clearly by ASB there are other convos they've had 😢❤️‍🩹

By the time of Ceill being born Gersha has become someone Tilrey can sometimes really open up his feelings to -- sobbing, "That's all I'm good for, a thing to be used" -- but goddamn getting so mad again at Gersha of ASB! He REALLY doesn't understand the power imbalance between them (he's the new Malsha, Veran, Linden to Tilrey!) and what it means to hold that power.

Wow, when you compare those moments, it really is clear how far Bror is ahead of Gersha in emotional intelligence when we meet them! Gersha is scared and insecure and inflicts that on everyone around him.

Then there’s the fact that Bror knows enough not to be shocked by Tilrey’s experiences—saddened, yes, but he does know this stuff can happen. While Gersha as a high Upstart is so oblivious-slash-naive that he can barely believe what he’s hearing and needs it confirmed over and over, which is painful for Tilrey. Tilrey is helping Gersha evolve as a person (who will eventually become truly understanding and supportive), but it’s at his own expense. 🥺

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cloudbattrolls · 1 year ago

Text

It's Too Cliché

Crista Condyl | A Remote Beach | Present Night

Crista brooded over their coffee cup. Well. They sulked, more like, but let them have this. They deserved it. They needed it.

The wizard leaned back in the old but comfortable recliner. They were currently in a little rentable beach cottage they liked to return to when they could, since it was often empty.

If it wasn’t when they got there, they could activate their ward on the place that made whoever was there pack their things and get going in a hurry, manifesting an illusion of whatever problem with the hive would get them going fastest by using their subconscious fears as a base.

The little wooden building wasn’t the nicest place - hence why it was often empty - and yet another draft came whistling through the poorly insulated walls, but a few wards for warmth and protection made it safe and comfortable enough. They couldn’t do too much - didn’t want to attract attention from any other passing magic users, even if the chance was low.

Or worse and much more likely, undead.

Ghosts were easily kept out, but a horde of zombies was a slightly bigger issue.

They sighed, taking a sip of the hot beverage, just having poured it from the place’s coffeemaker. The blend was good, at least; they’d bought it with money from their last job. Nice and smooth, with tones of hazelnut.

Often they liked tea, but right now? Right now was a coffee moment, for sure and absolute certain. The heels of their lavender boots drummed against the floor as they considered their situation.

Two! Two crazy…attachments!

As if one wasn’t enough. At least the first one could just be put down to Catill being unfairly gorgeous and talented. Who wouldn’t be a bit smitten with a woman that impressive and a little frightening to boot?

But there was no way to explain away Kormut as anything but. That.

Pale feelings.

Ugh.

A blueblood! A ruddy blueblood of all things! Didn’t that cap it all. Granted, he was hardly typical…but still. He’d far outlive them. They could hardly go out together without getting looks for what a ridiculous caste gap there was.

Even thinking about that was crazy! Kormut probably didn’t see them that way at all. What a silly thought. They’d look so stupid if they told him how they felt.

‘Oh hello, Kormut dear, I’ve fallen in pale with you. Want to go out for dinner? Presuming we can get you to a restaurant without major injury or the food all spoiling on arrival.’

He’d be nice about it, but probably confused, trying to let them down gently. Ughhh, so awkward!

Catill…

She’d made that little world for them, hadn’t she? Such a beautiful place…so well done, so well lit and that gorgeous sky, the detail on those lanterns…had she really meant it as…?

If she had - oh gods, what were they supposed to do? Try to impress her again? What if it failed? What if they were assuming too much?

Well. If they had, they’d just…laugh it off! That’s right. Everything could be laughed off. Haha, whoops, I thought you might be flush-flirting! With me! Haha, that’s sure a funny mistake I made, oopsie daisy, my bad. Please don’t rot my brain.

But if they were right…

Catill. Gathering mushrooms. Casting a spell. Moonlight shining pink and green on her white hair. That tiny little curled part of her horns that seemed so delicate. The way her face looked when she teased them…they wanted a closer view of that expression.

Crista coughed on their drink, hot brown liquid dousing the back of their throat and arcing back into their warm cream mug patterned with daisies.

Women, perpetually their undoing.

Well, in for beetle, in for a caeger. Even if they were imagining things, might as well have fun, right? Plus, they had an idea…

They finished off their coffee and decided to retire for the night, but they knew what they’d do next evening, right after breakfast.

—

“Oh, boo.” They complained, down on their hands and knees among the beach’s rocks and tide pools, the damp sand clinging to their bare skin and clothes. “There has to be some somewhere! Right? Surely everyone didn’t take it all already…”

They squinted through their glasses, which were after all supposed to help with their farsightedness, and which they suspected might need a prescription update sometime, since they had neglected it for…almost a sweep.

Of course, it couldn’t be anywhere that used an imperial database. That was the bother of it, and of so many other things.

Oh, sure, they had fake IDs and the like, they could fog a mind or two…but you never knew what sort of mind readers, empaths, or nullifiers such a place might have on staff. They had a good read on magical energy, but their own psi being so weak, they weren’t much good at sniffing out how powerful someone else might be on that way.

“What are you looking for, fellow?”

They looked up, ears flicking in alarm as they startled from the sudden voice.

Oh, that was a tall oliveblood.

They didn’t know greens got that gangly - well, gangly wasn’t the right word, this person was stouter and curvier than that.

They had a nice voice, too, fairly deep and mellow, and their hair was…red, huh. Dyed, clearly, they could see the black roots, but red nonetheless.

They also wore sunglasses, even though it was a cloudy night.

Well, whatever. Some people had things to hide, other trolls just liked the aesthetic, silly as it looked.

“Sea glass, seen any?” Crista saw no reason to lie; this person didn’t seem aggressive.

Not yet, anyway.

“Hmm, no, sorry.” They genuinely sounded a bit apologetic. “What do you need it for?”

“Uh.” They paused. “I want to make a sort of…miniature fountain thing…for a friend. I thought pieces of it would be good decoration, nice for lights to shine through.”

The midblood put a hand - with red claw polish - to their mouth as they laughed delightedly.

“Sweet thing to do! I’ll help you look if you do me a favor; you haven’t seen any trolls with jade pins around here, have you? Ones shaped like crowns?”

Crista shuddered. “Absolutely not, and if I had I’d scarper. Don’t ever want to tangle with those…people.” The rust said, with the clear impression that they would have happily used a different and far more negative noun.

“Smart! Now this one’s stranger, but bear with me; how about mannequins? Any clothes mannequins in places they shouldn’t be?”

Crista startled. “Thought that was just some urban legend rubbish. You’re telling me it’s true?”

“Not sure yet.” The tall troll said casually. “So you haven’t?”

“I’ve seen one from a distance in the woods one time…I thought it was just a prank.” They admitted.

“Maybe so.” Replied the olive amicably. “Either way, thanks. So where do you want me to look?”

“Uh.” Crista was surprised the olive was holding up their end of the deal, and blinked a few times.

“Er, over at the other end of the beach would be helpful, I haven’t looked down there yet. Um, thanks.” They added as they gestured with a pointer finger, somewhat awkward but sincere.

“It’s nothing.” Said the green, laughing again as they turned and walked the other way down the strip of sand.

Crista realized the troll hadn’t given their name, but well, they hadn’t given theirs either. Not that the carefree midblood seemed too fussed either way.

They kept looking, but only found a few small pieces, and sighed. At least they’d picked up a half-dozen nice shells, too…they brushed the sand off their hands and stuck them into the cold sea for a few moments, then shook them off.

The olive came back with - with - heavens, how had they possibly found that much? Sea glass of multiple colors glimmered in their hands, easily over a dozen pieces of it.

“Wh -“ Crista sputtered, honestly a little jealous, adjusting their glasses to make sure they were seeing correctly. “How? Are you psychic? What’s your secret?”

The midblood laughed again. “Nothing very dramatic, I promise.”

They handed it over, the smooth pieces pouring out of their darker-skinned hands into Crista’s pale ones as the maroon blinked in disbelief. The wizard put them in their sylladex with the others, noting that the other troll hadn’t answered their question.

Definitely a strange one…but they supposed they shouldn’t question someone who had helped them for the low price of answering two questions.

The olive nodded cheerfully, then turned and began to walk away. Crista watched them go…then called out.

“Wait, I…what IS your name?”

“Djimin.” Said the troll easily.

“Thank you, Djimin.”

They tipped their head with a fond smile, and then walked away further, vanishing from the maroon’s sight.

Crista looked up at the moons, the pink one a mere sliver, the green one soft and gibbous.

Moonlight on white hair. Moonlight on water. Moonlight streaming through glass, as if it were a current unto its own, particle and wave and liquid all at once.

They hoped their idea would be enough.

—

Keeping the water starry had stumped them for a hot minute, but what did any wizard worth their salt do? Cheat.

In this case, enchant the water to draw a reflection from water on whatever part of the planet was currently experiencing nighttime.

Said water flowed from a pot Catill herself had made from the clay they’d found and shared with her, looping up and back down into it in an infinite spiral.

When she’d given it to them, it had been the first time their face had warmed because of the yellowblood…

Ack! So sappy. Why did she do this to them?

Well. That wasn’t exactly a mystery…she was everything a witch should be. Powerful. Ruthless. Imperious.

Beautiful.

Kind to them. Even though she was so much stronger.

Crista looked at their own rippling reflection in the water. Not bad. Not amazing, either. So-so, but it was amazing what a little confidence and some magical talent did for you…

Among ordinary trolls. For her, it would require more.

They swallowed a sip of ordinary water from a glass, then prepared to speak the final spell to complete the piece they had planned. It didn’t do to go dry-mouthed in the middle of an incantation.

Everything was laid out on the worn wooden table in front of them, the old brown thing a bit rotted and worn by the sweeps and salt air. But it still held, and would for a while longer.

They looked at the page they had written it on, at the sea glass carefully placed in the appropriate sections of a magical array. Their maroon eyes wandered over the shells they had gathered, and the crystallized mana they had borrowed - from Catill - to aid in this spell and make sure they wouldn’t pass out after casting it.

Crista had even cleansed themself with saltwater beforehand, and said a quiet prayer to the spirits they hoped were listening.

One night they’d hear them again. Right?

“O éiríonn uiscí agus fite fuaite le chéile, ag éirí mar ghloine go scarann tú arís…”

Gaelige. Of all the languages they knew - though many only in bits and pieces - it felt right for this spell. These were the words of making.

Words through which magic flowed, pouring through reality to mingle with the mundane and elevate it to so much more.

As they spoke, the simple clay container unfolded into a miniature fountain. It became three-tiered, decorated with small leaping cats and perching parrots, the baked earth turning a rich golden yellow.

The sea glass all melded together and adhered to it in decorative engravings in its many shimmering blues and greens, delicately accenting the animals’ eyes, along with the tips of their fur and feathers. The shell covered the edges of the tiers, in soft pearlescent and striped-brown hues.

The water itself could turn to starry glass with a simple command, capturing the constellation that its water reflected at the time. Yet it could also be returned to the flow and become its native shape again.

If someone who so happened to be skilled with light shined their power through the liquid…

It would radiate like a galaxy.

Crista breathed heavily, sweating with effort despite their preparations. Oh…that had taken…

They sat down heavily on the old recliner again. They could stay awake, but only barely.

Perhaps Catill would have to wait a little longer, just a bit…but what a present they’d have for her.

Something made by - and at its best with - both their talents.

Magic was better when shared, after all.

#cloud writes #crista condyl #nyzere olorik #behold: magic and gayness #the drabble #squidward voice: down bad tonight aren't we

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