#here come the tw tags and if i missed one pls tell me

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 8 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: you and stanley go fishing 

warnings (TW): swearing, panic attack/panic-inducing scenarios, slight gore/violence 

tags: mutual-pining, fluff, angst, action, affection

notes: idk anything about ice fishing so pls don’t get my ass for this okay, this was v different to write than my usual long drawn out heart gutting character analyses that I love (not that that is NOT here) but all the movement was deffff hard so it took me a minute but hey this is what I wanted imma do it ya know 

Also i configured this chapter in like three separate ways in my head and it was so hard to chose? But i think the one i did end up writing is most true to their dynamic so far. To be of note for the v stubble reference im giving here but yall know The Kiss by painter Gustav Klimt? Ya… that…. Thats here (spot it if you can) as always thank you for the kind messages and notes and comments, love yall <3 also comment below if you'd like to be on a tag list I should maybe organize that hehe

word count: 6.5k

| masterlist | ix |

January, 1987

She had found them both nice fold-out chairs at the flea market just that last season, along with fishing poles the nice old man insisted went with the seats also. Talked her ear off about how he used to go ice fishing with his son, before said son went off to college. 

Now he wouldn’t be home during the ice fishing season, so he saw no use for his chairs or his poles. But she did. 

Stan would tell her flippantly about his youth from time to time, usually if not always said stories incorporated Stanford in one way or another. It seemed that the two barely, if ever, separated during their youth. Something that upset her more, that her friend had never spoken of his brother to her in the six years they had known each other. She didn’t think he would speak of it all as fondly, these memories, considering he never confided in her about Stanley, to begin with. 

Stan would speak of the shoreline in New Jersey, of the sharp sand beneath his feet and hidden caves along the coast they both would trek through. Talk of the setting sun, of racing his brother home in the dark down paved streets back to their shared room. 

He spoke most fondly of a boat though, one that had taken both twins years to configure. 

She figured the fishing poles could be some sort of link, at least in her mind. 

That and they spent some of their summers down by the dock at the local lake anyway. Splashing in windy tides off the dock and watching boats go by until sunset was a great way to cool off. That or revisiting the pool, where Stan would insist upon ice cream for the short drive home. 

She figured he would wait for the season opener to go fishing. Considering she gave him the poles and chairs in December, a quick wave to Christmas, a holiday he laughed off on the regular. He would routinely celebrate it with her, just for the holiday cookies and cheesy movies he wouldn’t admit he loved. But he was Jewish, after all. At least raised in a Jewish household, he told her flippantly, after opening his gift this last December. Laughing at her blushing face, and flabbergasted stuttering, asking him why he would bother with all this. She sat straight when he said it was for her. Because she wanted to, so he would. Not that he was a religious man, anyway. 

He found it amusing this holiday season then, to find her struggling to make some traditional dishes his mother would make each year come December for the holidays. Nothing he necessarily missed, but something he found endearing nonetheless. Her usual attention to detail, and odd need to ensure his comfort. 

The fishing poles were a welcomed gift though, and he lit up at them and the differing tackles the nice man at the flea market had also gifted her. Hugged her into his side, while he ranted and raved about being able to fish off the docks come summer. 

But he didn’t want to wait. 

Something she thought rather glumly in the very early morning that January weekday. The sun not even having made its appearance, she had stumbled out of her bed around 4 a.m., having promised to reluctantly go ice fishing with said enthusiastic man. They stood before the porch door now, while he knelt in front of her, lacing up tall winter boots and pulling over her snow pants. Tucking her in, layer upon layer. Putting to use some winter clothes they both had rangled out of donation bins that very first cold season. The snow pants and boots had only ever really been used when they would trek through the outskirts of the woods, searching for clues to Stanford’s other journals. 

She was still half asleep on her feet, falling forward into Stan’s bent shoulder in front of her to groan. For some reason, he was wide awake, and grinning like a fool despite it being 4 a.m. That dumb look on his face reminded her why she even crawled out of her cacoon of blankets. He was beyond happy to be able to go fishing. Something he couldn’t even wait for a warmer season to do. 

He seemed a smidge like his younger self when he was closest to water. Some of his favorite memories are those ones with Stanford by his side and sand intertwined in his hair. His skin dark in the sun and his toes were deep in the tide of the sand. 

It seemed more distant now, as distant as Ford was to him now. He wanted to ground himself here too, and some of his new favorite memories are of them hanging at the end of the dock. His feet in the cold water of the lake, and her nudging his shoulder. Teasing him, edging him off the docks’ wood and into the cold water with her. He preferred the summer to the snowy winters, but he figured they could make some new memories by the water now also. Even if they were colder ones. 

So he more or less begged her to join him. Promising that he would handle the fish after she made a disgusted face at the thought of stripping the fish of their skin and bones for the meal they would make of the catch. She agreed though, happy to tag along if it pleased him. 

He stood from his knelt position in front of her, standing to reach behind him to grab his red coat from the coat rack. Turning back to her to fold her arms into the coat also, her eyes still blurry as she smiled at him slightly giddy. 

He had a gift for her that last December also. A coat folded into shitty wrapping newspaper he had thought to repurpose. She smiled at the blue coat but quickly became confused when she pulled it out of the wrapping to find it was far too big for her own physique to be for her. He had quickly pulled out another present for her, presenting her with another newspaper-wrapped gift. Which she tore open with haste, and rocked up quickly to her feet to dance around their small living room, his old red coat in her arms. 

It was hers now, and she reveled in the shitty coat. His smell still lingered in the seam line, and when she leaned her head far back into the hood she could pick up on his shampoo. It kept her warm, despite also not fitting her physique. 

He had woken up earlier than her that morning, putting the appropriate supplies for ice picking into the trunk next to their foldable chairs, the tackles, and the fishing hooks. So they made their way out into the dark, ducking into the car next to each other to make for the lake in the early morning. 

She hummed along to the radio as per usual, random songs interspersed in between the local morning forecast. She stopped though now, picking her head up from the back of the seat to look over at Stan. 

“We missed the entrance to the dock.” 

“Nah there's another one we can go to. Farther down, less people.” 

She hummed, smiling over at him. What he actually meant was there would be no lake office to report to. So no need to register them for the lake that day, and no stupid state fee to pay for fishing on the lake. Amused at his shortcuts, she turns back to watch the pine trees pass out the car window. 

It was a sharp, nose-burning 10 degrees Fahrenheit that day, according to the radio forecast. Only made worse somehow with the creeping darkness from the horizon line. The sun slinked slowly in the coldness of January. 

He made his way out first, the car’s cabin light flashing on as he grinned over at her. Securing his blue coat closed quickly before getting out to stomp a path in the fresh snow around the car. Pulling around the sides to pull open her door, before chugging around to the trunk to unload the supplies he claimed they needed. 

She knew how to fish, but had never ventured into ice fishing. Mainly because the cold was beyond unappealing to her. But the thermos Stan had presented to her before making out the door that morning heated her hands enough to dismiss the onslaught of negativity thrumming through her. And partially woke her up on the drive over. Stepping out into the crunchy cold snow to help Stan gather supplies. 

He shuffled her chair into her hands, slugging everything else into his own broad arms. He could reasonably carry everything, stomping forward in the snow to make a path for her to follow in. 

They had made a spot on the ice, the snowy shoreline a good bit away. Stan claiming the best spots must be farther out. Because the farther out, the bigger the fish. She sat, glancing around the empty ice. When Stan meant fewer people he meant no people. A frozen dock far off near the shoreline also, its wooden structure covered in ice. She watched him now, the fishing poles cradled in her lap, and the thermos warm in her hands. He’s bent in front of her, his mittened hands working an ice auger to break a solid hole through the thick layer of ice. 

Grunting, he stands back up, hands on his hips admiring his work. 

“Is the ice too thin here?” She observes. 

He tilts his head left, turning to her now. “No, doll. Perfectly fine right here. We’ll only be here until a little after sunrise anyway.” 

He sits in his own foldable chair that she had set up for him while he was finagling with the ice. Their chairs positioned side by side, a little distance between them and the whole he had just made. He reaches between them, opening up the tackle box to shuffle around drawers, looking for something in its depth. 

“Close your eyes, hun.” 

She rolls her eyes, closing them, while shuffling the thermos between her thighs to hold out her hands in wait. He places something in her mittened hands, it’s slightly heavy in them now. 

“Open ‘em.” 

She opens them to see an odd black contraption in her hands. Two knobs, a dark screen, and a long antenna on what she presumes is a battery-powered electronic. Almost too dark to make out what it was, but it hit her and she gasped. 

“Ta-Da!” 

“A radio!” She sings, clutching it closer to her chest and swinging in her seat to knock her knees with his. Clawing at his shoulder to fold herself into his neck and coat’s furry trim. She wouldn’t question where he got it, just revel that he had thought to, for her. 

“I know you weren’t too eager to go fishing with me, doll. But I figured this could make up for some of it.” He chuckled, readjusting his hat on his head after they pulled away. Knee’s still knocking between them. 

“I’d do anything with you Stan.” She hums, unthinking, as she looks down at the device in her hands. Tweaking around the knobs and the antenna to turn it on. She misses his flush next to her. 

She gets it working quickly, the music faintly staticy in the background of Stan attempting to put lures at the end of their poles. 

He gets her’s ready first, leaning forward in his seat to situate the pole in her hands. Pointing out the slack line and the type of lure he put on the end of her pole. She’s too distracted, like she always is when he’s probably explaining something vaguely important. 

The music hums between them, perched on the tackle box he had closed. His cheeks flushed from the cold, his hat slumping down the back of his head, hair peeking out around the rim and sticking to his forehead. He leans in closer, his knee and thigh along her own. His own covered hand reaching for hers, folding it around the pole for her to hold. 

They enjoy each other's company until the sun peaks up along the horizon, a good hour in. As they pass the coffee-filled thermos back and forth, she hums to the radio. Enjoying stories Stan told about tourists from the end of the last season. Telling her about their ridiculous questions he had to work around last minute. 

“Then he asked me if they were extinct!” 

“What you tell him?” 

“Well he couldn’t have been more than eight years old, and he got all teary-eyed when he asked me.” Stan waves his hand around, drumming up the memory of when a child had asked him if the fake displayed plady-beaver was the last of its kind. 

“Annnnddd?” She hums, sipping on the last of their shared beverage. 

“And I may or may not have said they were not.” He shrugs. “Was easy to convince the kid’s dad to buy him a plushy.” 

She laughs, thinking about the stupid merchandise she’s still not used to, that she sometimes restocked in the front of the house. But of course, Stan didn’t have the heart to really crush the kid’s spirit. Sad kids equaled less money probably, in his mind. That and he had a weird affinity of being about to communicate with them like no other. 

There’s a tug on her line suddenly, not the first in the hour they’d been at their spot, but the first real strong one she’s ever felt. Jerking her pole, bending it forward. Both her hands met the pole, yanked straight in her seat suddenly. 

“Woah!” He says, sitting forward and reaching for her pole also. His hands encased hers around the pole. “Hold it tight, hun.” Grunting in her ear. 

But the pulling got worse, had them both standing from their chairs. His arms around hers, helping her reel back the pole, pulling it back towards his left shoulder. His arms encasing her, pulling her flush with his front. 

“I gotcha.” He grunts again, close to her ear. 

“Do you?” Gasping at the strength of the pull along the pole. 

It seems to drag them closer and closer to the ice hole he had put in the ground not even an hour ago. His feet planted firm, yet scrapping against the ice. Hers fumbling, dipping under the strength of being pulled forward. Her hands tight, beginning to sweat and ache in the casing of her mittens. A heat around the ring of her hat. He’s hot behind her, warmth seeping out from his coat and onto her back. He feels firm, and yet they both continue a slow crawl forward. 

Until it tugs. It tugs so hard that she instinctually releases her grip. Her hands were still steady against the pole though, still beneath Stan’s own hands. 

The jerk has them both flung forward, his feet no longer steady, flipping against the ice. She’s still between his arms when they fall forward, inching towards the hole. He turns them somehow, taking the brunt of it on his right shoulder. 

Her head swims, having met the ground rather suddenly. But she’s between his arms, her hands having let go of the fishing pole. He’d let them slip from the pole, his arms tight around her, trying to take the force of the impact. 

“Stan.” She mutters, mushy between them. Her head pounded for a minute, as they continued to slide against the ice. His chin propped on her head, warm around her still. 

He doesn’t respond, because he’s given no time to. Another harsh tug on the pole sent him forward quickly towards the hole. He thinks fast though, bending his arms, hooking his feet along her legs, and pulling her out of his grasp. 

She slides along the ice and snow, his push along her legs and waist burned. She turned, pushing herself up on her hands. Grasping at the snow to get some balance. She had run into the chairs and tackle box. All their supplies scattered along the ice. The radio was static behind her. 

It had all happened so fast, her voice cracking in the cold air. Calling his name but not finding him. One moment he was there, the next gone. The water still. 

They had been pulled forward so suddenly, a quick five-second span between the tug and her head meeting the ice. And he was gone as soon as she had lifted herself again, the ice cracking along the sides of the former small hole. 

“Stanley!” Scrapping, crawling towards the hole. The surface wet and slick from the cold lake water that had seeped through the cracks along the hole now. Stan’s visage far from view, the top of the water dark. 

She stares in what feels like forever but is only quantifiable in the movements of the sun. It’s rising now, around her. Sparkling on the ice and water around her. Something she’d marvel at, have her grasping at Stan’s shoulder. Nudging him to see as she does. 

She thinks only briefly before shucking off her hat and gloves, beginning to unlace her boots. She’d follow him, into the dark depths. 

A deep continuous thump. Running along the ice. First near her feet, then farther and farther from her. It has her racing towards it, the vibrations along the ice guiding her along. It must be him, must be that something that pulled him into the dark murky water. The rhythmic thudding has her racing back to the supplies. Fumbling for the axe Stan had packed to help pick out the ice in the hole. 

Running full force back, the ice cracking beneath her legs. Shoelaces dancing around her feet, her fingers nippy and uncovered around the wooden handle of the axe.

It cracks, sickenly loud and sudden. Water bursts beneath her shoes, seeping up and around her. The ground opens up in front of her, splitting along the horizon line. A flash of blue precariously balanced in the large maw of a blurred creature. 

It shakes the ice, splintering and fracturing it below her feet. The weight of the creature resting the front of its body along the ice. Shaking the striking blue figure in its jaw, trying to subdue it. 

She stands still in the ankle-deep water, trying to make out the blurry figure in the maw of the anomaly. It strikes her then that it could be nothing else but Stanley, confirmed by the sputtering grunts the figure heaves, coughing up cold water from his lungs. 

She stands frozen only until then, stepping forward into the slowly sinking ice bath. Ax swung behind her shoulder, ready to slice along the neck of the beast in hopes it would release her husband. 

He clamors in the cage of teeth above. Raised his large hand into a well-practiced fist, blindly throwing said fist to meet the eye of the beast. 

The hit startles the beast, cracking open its jaw to release Stan, a sudden sharp screech creeping up its large neck through its throat. Rattling her bones as she leaps forward in the ice and water, bringing the ax into the meat of the beast's neck. 

It crawls back further, slinking back into the dark cold waters. She stumbles back through the ice and the water until she feels snow beneath her unlaced boots again, the ax gone from her grasp and embedded in the skin of the anomaly. The beast is there and gone in a flash, scrambling back beneath the water. 

Stan has the air knocked out of him, having landed on his back. His head cracked against the ice and water below, the cold creeping in through his clothes. He opens his mouth to groan but finds only his shallow breath and the puff of heated air leaves his mouth. The sun creeping above the horizon now, something he can only gauge by the heat on his face. The rest of him rock solid and shivering under the weight of his wet clothes. 

A sudden eclipse above his head, the sun, and shadows shaded by a beautiful face. Her face shadowed by the sun, her hat gone and her hair spilling all around her head like a halo. Her cheeks flush from the cold, from the adrenaline. It could be the cold or the way the light looks around her head, but he swore she must have been an angel. 

He’s muttering when she finally reaches him, stumbling through the cracked ice and wet water. Her only thought was getting to him. He was beyond sense when she did make it to him, clutching at his tattered and soaked blue coat. He was soaked, drenched to the bone. His hat gone and his hair icy along his head, his gloves gone also, a boot missing from his left foot. And he’s drenched. It all stuck to his body, freezing quickly in the icy temperature. She had to get him home, get him out of these clothes, and heat him up. 

She runs her hands along his coat first, checking for punctures, for blood. He had been dragged several yards under the water in the toothy jaw of said beast. But no punctures and no blood made themselves apparent through his coat. Something she’ll have to access later. 

A thump along the ice has her whipping her head around. The vibration rippling along the ice and the shards of the broken lake surface. The beast lingered in the area, waiting for them to be off guard again. 

She wastes no time, lifting Stan’s large arm up and above her shoulder. Leveraging his body up to be leaned against her side and her back. All those stories about mothers and daughters and adrenaline ring in her head, a truth to the stories of women and abnormal strength in times of strife. She would ache tomorrow, and be glad of it anyways. 

He unconsciously shuffles his feet, and she makes note that he’s somewhat conscious. The ice helps her slip them both along the good hundred yards she has until they reach the shoreline. Their supplies the least of her worries, and the anxious thought of the beast meeting her back out there in the wreckage of it all. She does not turn back to look when abandoning it all. 

It’s harder folding his stiff body into the passenger seat. His legs flopped into the car last. She curses, reaching over him to buckle him in and then making for the driver's side. She rarely drove them, it was more of a special occasion between the two of them. She had only ever driven once in the winter and had been deeply scared of the slipping ice and heavy snowfall. But the sky was clear and she’d put the thought of ice away for a long while. 

She curses again, reaching over to Stan to feel up the inside of his coat pockets for the keys. He stirs at the movement, shrugging off her touch, shivering in his seat. 

“Not Doc’.” He mutters, his head spinning. 

“What?” 

“You’re not Doc’.” He grunts again, his lips loose. His head hurts like a motherfucker. 

“I am!” She hisses, hands pushing his away, reaching for his pockets again, looking for the keys. 

“Oh.” He looks back, eyes blurry under the odd pressure along the back of his head. This person sounded like his wife, he’d admit. Shifting his head to lean against the back of the long bench, making out the flush on her face and the halo of hair around her head. He thought this was his angel? He guessed it was the same thing in his mind, anyway. 

She’s still ruffling through his soaked half-frozen jacket. “Hi, angel.” He says, smiling down at her frusstrated face. Why was she so frazzled? 

He’s grinning like an idiot, and he just acted like he didn’t know who she was. Like she wasn’t her. Calling her angel? He’d only ever done that in her dream. That achingly sick dream she had of them, of them in this very car. Of his weight above her, of his breath along the crook of her neck. Of his kiss. 

She shakes it off. Finally finding the keys folded into a very frozen and flat pocket along his chest. Turning back to the wheel, starting the car up, and peeling out of the parkway backward. Leaving the same way they had come in. 

She races home, glancing over at Stan stiff in the passenger seat. His eyes hadn’t left her figure but seemed distant. His thoughts far beyond him, and his coat and pants were frozen against him. His hair melts off his head in the car, still wet but no longer frozen to his scalp. Messy wet hair tucked around his big ears. 

She parks and throws open doors as quickly as she physically can. Slipping in the snow, tripping over her loose boots. Fingers frigid when she reaches for him to move him out of the passenger side. 

She knows the signs of hypothermia. Knows the dangers of prolonged exposure to cold, and dropping body temperature. Doing math in her head, hoping he had been exposed short enough for her to physically raise his temperature before his heart began to slow. Before blood began to sludge its way through his veins. 

He looks as blue as his coat, his arm slugged back over her shoulder as she attempts to get him up the stairs. The slurred speech, the confusion, the dulled skin. It made her heart race, taking steps two at a time to drag him to the upstairs restroom. To the bath. 

She sets him against the open door, running and slipping along the tile, turning on the bath to its warmest temperature. The water would be scalding against his cold skin, would sting and tingle in contrast to his wet clothes, but it was the only way she thought to raise his temperature. 

She rushes back to him, kneeling in front of him, grabbing at his coat and pants to pull the wet clothes from him. He’s smiling again, giggling at her attempt to uncloth him. 

“Could have asked hun.” He jokes, but she cries. He’s so out of it, so gone from this reality and it shakes her bones. He’s here and not all at once. 

He thinks he sees her clearer here in the yellow bathroom light, hot fog swelling around them from the facet. She has her hands all over him, eager to get him out of wet clothes that stick hard against his body. Didn’t she know? That all she had to do was ask and he would shed any layer to get closer to her? He giggles again, leaning into her hot hands against his cold blue body. 

She manages to get everything but his boxers and socks off him, a flush to her face. Not for lacking of trying though, but Stan would laugh and shake her hand away. Muttering under his breath between them when she would reach for the waistband of his usual blue loose boxers. So she luggs his wingspan along her back again, leveraging him up to move him to the scalding water. Heat bubbling up in clouds around the water. Bruises along his chest have begun to form from the pressure and weight of the beast's teeth and jaw. They’d turn purple and swell soon, a good sign she sighed. A swell meant blood was flowing fast still.

He hisses, his head rocking back along the edge of the clawed tub when he finally is able to sit in the water. It’s hot, too hot. It hurts to breathe in the heat, and he attempts to lift his lungs above the water to gain air again. The muggy water hurts his skin and burns him. But her hand meets his chest, pushing him back into the scalding water. 

“Stay.” She commands, eyes wavering when she looks at him now. Melted into the porcelain of the tub. He’s still shivering. He doesn’t even register it but his body has been shaking, vibrating, this entire time. Moving his muscles in an attempt to warm him up. 

She reaches to turn the hot water back on, cursing, beating her hand along the rim of the tub when the water comes out cold. It’s all gone. She looks down at him again, her hand moving along his chest, trying to generate heat where her hand was. “Stay, Stan. Stay in the fucking water.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He mutters, still smiling at her like an idiot. God, she was pretty, god her hand felt nice along his cold bitter skin. She was out the door so quickly. Was it possible to miss someone who was just in the other room? 

She’s barreling down the stairs, flipping on every gas burner in her wake on the kitchen stove. Stumbling to the cupboard, pulling out saucepans and the like to put water in. She’d boil it, damnit. Like her grandmother used to do for her when she was preparing her bath. 

She doesn’t breathe until every corner of the stove is full. Leaned over the countertop next to the burners. Her hand rubbed along her chest, along her heart. Self-soothing, the purpose of the continuous motion above the erratic beating. She had tunnel vision up until now, suddenly noticing that she hadn’t even flicked on the kitchen light. Hadn’t even closed the front door. 

She had been scared. Still was. Shaken beyond something she knew. It pained her to be in the next room, afraid of looking over her shoulder and not finding him there. She’d never lead them through crowds again, never let him stray far from her peripheral. Because then he would be gone, could be gone. 

Ice seeps in through her snow pants, and she tugs off her boots too. Socks wet against the kitchen tile. Her hands shake as she pulls her boots loose. 

She had almost lost him. Lost him for good. It was a shell shock beyond her, beyond her imagination. For the last five years, it was hard to conjure up adventures and trips without him. The thought of flippantly leaving him behind never crossed her mind. Hadn’t ever left her mind. Not after storming in through the shack's door, not after his confession to her across the dim kitchen table, across their kitchen table. 

She sits there now, feeling like it was a lifetime ago, but knowing she could blink and mistake the past for the present. He had reached across to her that night, across the table. Held his palms face up when he asked for help. When he confided in a four-second mistake he had made. She had hesitated then, to reach for him. To reach across and find assurance between them, to fold her hands into his own. She had judged initially. But they had both made mistakes. Both made mirror image mistakes, it felt. She didn't want to hesitate to reach for him ever again. She just feared he would be gone before she could. Feared he would disappear along her shoulder line. 

She had thought it was obvious, the unspoken agreement between them. That they both meant something to the other. That her dreams threaded into a deeper reality, and that the jokes they shared weren’t some passing balm to deal with it all. That the late nights in front of the T.V. analyzing movies were for the thrill of each other's company, and that their yearly poker game was a silent promise of convergence. That the shitty driving lessons weren’t so she could drive away from him someday, that chalkboard lessons were so he wouldn’t scoff when she said he was smart with her whole chest. That the yearly diner dates were just that, just dates. Not something flippant, not something as unkind as the upkeep of an image. That he opened doors for her for a reason and tucked her below his chin because he cared enough to. That he reached across tables, palms up, because he never feared her hesitation. 

Something unwritten between them she believed, everything shared in everything but words and letters. She was a calculating woman throughout her years and didn’t know how to trace the beginning of the feelings she had amassed all the way to the end of it. She didn’t know how to explain that her heart clenched when he leaned over the seat to buckle her in or explain how her hands shake when he reaches for the chalk from her now in the middle of a lesson. It was inconsequential, improbable, and entirely unexplainable to well… explain the sum of him to her. It felt little in comparison to his constant devotion. 

The two front pots begin to boil over, she lifts her head, turning off burners and carrying a stem to a pot in both hands. Taking the stairs two at a time again, uncaring about the burning water running down her arms in her haste to make it back to him. 

He’s still the same shade, but he lifts his head to look at her when she enters now. His smile less doppy, more genuine. His hair beginning to dry along his head, no ice to be found in its dark strands. He’s still leaning heavily along the back of the tub, not yet able to hold himself up. Color coming back to his cheeks, to his face. She kneels beside the tub, the floor wet as it seeps in through her pants. She pours in one pot at a time, swiping the water around to acclimate it to the bathwater. His hands move unconsciously, grabbing a strand of her hair to fold behind her ear. To be able to look at her more clearly through the fog of hot water. 

She begins to pour the next pot into the tub, but he tugs her forward, folds her body against the rim of the tub. Something in her makes her stand, lifting her feet into the tub. The way he looks at her, so disorientated and shivering still. It moves her forward, has her crawling into the tub completely clothed just to lay her cheek against his chest. To make sure it continues to rise under her. Like when she sleeps, and he lulls her back to sleep by simply being there. She wants that, for him to lull her racing heart now. Make her forget about his disappearing visage and still water. He does that, hums like he always does, folding her head under his scruffy chin. Comforting her despite his weakened figure. Hoping she wouldn’t notice how cold he still was against her. 

Something unwritten she believed, something she had never had to say out loud because she had never felt this weird depth before. But he was slipping from her grasp now, heavy against the rim of the tub. And so very quiet it made her sick, made her heart chase up her throat. Made her anxious beyond words, because the thing she meant to say to him would stay unwritten. If he was gone she’d only voice such fantasies in her dreams. The dreams she had of him as hers, those other realities her mind conjured where he wore a golden band and called her his. Where she was his. 

“You're mine.” Her voice was unwavering, something unwritten between the syllables of her words. It blooms and bursts from her throat, a growth that had sprouted long ago, stumbles out of her mouth searching for light. Still folded under his chin, along his chest. Her shirt wet from the water, bunched up along her waist where he had put his hands. 

He gets that look in his eyes despite her intensity, a joke on the tip of his tongue. Something to soothe her racing heart, to stamp down the distant look in her eyes. How she had looked in the car scared him, the rush of her chest but the focus of her eyes. Like they had been driving in the dark, through a neverending tunnel. But she chases it away before he can open his mouth, her hand meeting and cupping his scruffy jaw, pulling back from her comfort to look at him. Turning his eyes to her intense ones, ones that held something unspoken. 

“No.” A shake to her voice, eyes blurry. “You’re mine.” 

He nods, his voice stuck in his throat. Running his hands up her back, his warmer hands. 

“Y-you aren’t allowed to leave me like that, Stanley. You can’t l-leave me all alone like that.” Flashes of a towering beast are nothing compared to turning over her shoulder. Of searching the horizonline. Like she does for Stanford, eyes drifting to tree lines. She wouldn’t, couldn’t compartmentalize doing such a thing for Stanley. She’d take back hesitancies and reach across tables palm up if it meant he wouldn’t leave her again. 

“I promise, angel.” He takes her again, tucking her back to his chest. Her racing heart fluttered against his warming chest. “I won’t leave.” 

Her hand fall into that crook in his chest, the other clutching along his back, trying to bring him closer, trying to make the space between them disappear. She sniffling, from the cold and stress, against his chest and he doesn’t think twice about his words. Thinking of reaching for her, of meeting her across bridges and tables and in tunnels to meet her open palms, her warm hands. Unfurling her from his chest to lean down and place his lips near her ear, something unspoken between syllables. 

“You’re mine, too.” 

His lips traveling to her cheek, hovering against the flush skin before tracing her warmth. Kissing the apple of her cheek as she leans into the front of him. His lips warm against her cheek, like she had dreamed of. He had never been this close in the waking world, something she craved more with each passing day. She never pulled away, sniffling as he brings her forward again. No hesitation to be found in the nod of her head along his scruff, a nudge, and nestle of agreement. Something unspoken, unwritten. 

She forgot about the pots and burners. 

[slytherinshua]

hi so idk what happened but i rambled on for way too long with an ask and then it got deleted 🙃

i think the universe was telling me to stfu

anyway basically what i said bwfore (in the erased ask ihy tumblr) was that yay! you stan tws!

and i saw your jebewon and tws reqs open so I asked for..

tws -> fluff with any of the 06's (an idea is: (dont have to write this specifically) maybe coming home after a long day? could be them or reader)

zb1 -> basically hanbin comfort?? any comfort at all but like maybe idol s/o who faints on stage

i will never have enough shb fics im not even joking. Hes so greenflag, i love that guy with all of my heart (hes 7 years older than me) and i seriously hope everyone gets a person like him as their s/o (for all the insane kpop stans out there (the extremists) i said someone LIKE him which means i do not want sung hanbin and i actually would be happy if he has a gf (he probs does bc look at that guy) because a) hes way too old for me and b) lets be real here.

Okay!! Enough rambling!! anyway my question was whos your tws bias (my guess is shinyu) ik your zb1 and bnd biases are gw and myungjae (seriously gw is bias wrecking so hard)

btw im also a shinyu bias and idk if youve guessed alr but also a hanbin bias (heh) and a sungho one (i absolutely love that kid)

uhh and i forgot to say..i forgot which anon i was :/

Im pretty sure i was 🌱 but i dont remember!!! i was the svt ask anon whixh caused a somewhat miscommunication or idk(?)

anyway just call me 🌱

zanna thank you for writing fics. seriously, i read them all the time. i recently got into zb1 (theyve taken over my life) and all i had to do was open your mlist. But again pls prioritise yourself always, stay healthy and happy pls dont burn out ily (not in a weird way, in the way i love an author's works or an artist's paintings) pls ignore the req if you dont feel like it!!!

OMG!!!! UR BACK KSJDFKSD omg i've missed you 🥹🥹🥹 i'm sorry i forgot to put ur anon tag on the nav cause i kept switching themes and having the taken anons there or not and it was hard keeping track of them all but IM SO GLAD UR BACK!!! the universe may be telling u to stfu but i say PLS DONT PLS COME INTO MY INBOX MORE <33333 ugh tumblr is literally SUCH A CYBER BULLY LIKE GET OUTTT 👹👹👹👹

omg these ideas are so CUTEEE im writing them down in my drafts immediately and hopefully ill finish them very soon <333

no so real hanbin is the DEFINITION of perfection. like hes the 5th gen cha eunwoo i saw ppl saying he looks like cha eunwoo and he got so shy and was like nononono BUT LIKE THEYRE SO REAL HES PERFECT SAY IT LOUDERRR and hes humble too which is so cute :(

lmao i giggled at ur guess im thinking maybe a lot of ppl think im shinyu biased cause ive written the most for him but ive actually been kyungmin biased since day 1!!!!!! i was there pre debut like from the minute the ohmymy video dropped and i fell in love w kyungmin immediately and learned all their faces in 5 mins 🥹🥹 i love my tws so much <333

awwww stop :(((( thank you so much for enjoying them and requesting more </3 so real zb1 are a problem i said i wouldn't stan and i tried hard not to but i failed miserably and now they're on my mind 24/7 👹 AND ILYTTT I HOPE UR DOING OKAY AND LIFE HAS BEEN KIND TO U <3333 and i'm so glad to see u in my inbox again 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[i-cant-stop-fandoming-help]

Hanahaki (Words better left unsaid(?))

Fuck it i'm splitting it into parts. this is part one. ALL OF IT IS IN ONE DOC THATS SEVEN PAGES LONG AND STILL NOT COMPLETE. HERE'S THE FIRST FOUR PAGES.

Anyways this is filled with headcanons because only the MSS demo is out. HERE YOU GO BORIS I HOPE YOU LIKE FUCKING. CHUBEE BEING ANTISOCIAL OR WHATEVER IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT.

EAT THE ANGST WHILE I GO AND MAKE MYSELF SOMETHING TO EAT FOR I HUNGER.

also a friend and I wrote a fic with our OCs that involved Hanahaki like. 2 years ago. And the resolve of that fic was that the sickly person lost their memory and thats how the hanahaki was rid of. and i liked that idea so Input "FORGETTING UR LOVED ONES WILL CURE YOU OF THE FLOWERS!!!" in here.

Uhhh tw for Hanahaki, memory loss caused by concussion, and idk what else. please ask me if you need something tagged cuz i genuinely have no idea what to tag.

also i had to replay all the routes in the demo so I could do my best to write the personalities. I mainly just like kicking chubee while he's down because. idk actually. ig its just cuz i like him as a character? I'm really tired

im going to stop rambling pls just read this so i can get back to working on the second part AND my other angst fics. and the singular happy fic in my WIP collection.

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump. Chubee knew the feeling well. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump. His heart was pounding, and his stomach was spinning about. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump. Rongdien was snort-laughing at Matu, who had tripped over Aloiki’s fake tail and fallen flat on his face.

Rongdien was one of the hardest of the group to make friends with, it took the beekeeper a while to figure out how to make them grin. While everyone else was somewhat open with their interests, they had remained stone-faced.

That frustrated Chubee, although he hated showing it. Deep down, he felt that he was only good for jokes and “therapy”. Nobody really cared about him, nobody wanted to know what he was interested in, or what he had gone through in life. So when someone didn’t see him as good for either, he could only feel hollow. If he didn’t have a purpose, why should he live?

The red-head glanced at the blonde, gaze clouding with confusion. “You’re staring, ‘Bee. Why are you staring, Chubee.” Their voice wasn’t loud, but it was commanding enough to make Chubee stand up straight.

“Sorry, Mx. ‘dien.” He tried for a grin, but it was hard to manage. Their amber eyes were sharp, piercing him through and making his knees wobble, making it hard for him to stand.

“Why are you staring.” Rongdien repeated, making the beekeeper attempt to straighten up even moreso. 

“Don’t see you laugh often, is all!” There was something bitter rising in his throat, and his breath was growing hard. “I don’t feel so well, though.” He kept the grin up as he backed up, the bitterness growing.

He booked it. Chubee ran down the halls, ran towards his room. He slammed his door open as fast as he could, before his knees buckled. Petals flooded out of his mouth, that of the red windflower. Typically, he would’ve stared in awe, but they were coming from his mouth.

“No, no, no.” He whispered, tears welling in his eyes. He had this sickening curse once before, back before he graduated, and someone else had to tell him years later.

“You had this sickness. “Hanahaki”, I believe it is called. You were spewing up entire bouquet’s worth of purple petals. 

Chubee was unusually still. His hands weren’t patting his knees, his foot wasn’t tapping the ground, his eye wasn’t twitching. 

“It was weird that you were missing so much school, y’know. Everyone was worried, even…” the brunette paused, her lips pursing. “Even Pedro.”

The name hung in the air, and she stared at him like he was about to spew out an entire flower again.

“Maria, it’s fiiiineeeee!” He hated how his voice wavered, “I’m over it. You know how? I got a concussion.”

Maria’s eyebrows furrowed, and she looked at him quizzically. “How would that help?!”

The blonde just shrugged, taking off his gloves and touching his fingers to his palm repeatedly. “I had a talk with Carmen,” he tried to keep any and all emotion out of his tone. “ ‘Pparently, forgetting the one you love helps. It’s why I didn’t show up for the rest of the year, either.”

She still bore a concerned expression, and Chubee itched with discomfort. He never knew how to react whenever someone showed concern for him.

“Y’know, Carmen has a killer throw. Never trust ‘em with a tennis ball, you’ll regret it.” Shivers went down his spine, but he tried to sound like he was joking. “Knocked me straight out. Only knew he did it because he was next to me at the hospital.”

Maria glanced out the window– the sun was setting, and it caused a beautiful gradient to cover her face. Blue, pink, orange, and then yellow. “He said you got a bad concussion, and everyone wanted to see you… Many people are fond of you, Garcia.”

Chubee had no retort to make, as much as he wish he did. 

“At the beginning of the school year, when the teacher made us do an introduction assignment… a lot of people remembered your interest in beekeeping from that day. It’s why Jaime got you the bee plushie, and why Lucia and I saved up to get you those bee-themed pixie lights.” She raised a finger, pointing at his hat– the one he always wore. “It’s why Antonio got you that.”

Chubee snapped back to the present, he had lingered on that memory for too long. What purpose had there been to think back to it? He already knew that he just needed to forget. Forgetting was a lot easier than opening up about his feelings.

“You blood-havers are strange.” A metallic, squeaky, voice rang from above him.

He jolted, looking above and wiping his mouth. “Estelia.” He muttered, his tone bitter with hatred.

The robot just giggled, hovering in the air before staring at the petals. “That’s gross. Humans are gross.”

She began to ramble, but he cut her off as keeled over, pressing his palms into the hardwood flooring and cringing as more petals spilled out of his mouth, accompanied by dots of blood.

“You should see a doctor.” Estelia vanished after saying that, although her steel-cold giggles still echoed about in the halls.

Chubee ignored that comment. He was too busy thinking about who could help him forget. 

Maybe Carolia could hit him on the head, whether it be with fist or hammer. Carolia never did seem to like others, so perhaps he wouldn’t ask questions.

There was a knock at his doorway, and dread filled his chest.

“Nice petals.” The voice was monotone, uninterested, and yet somewhat amused. “I don’t see that every day.”

Chubee did his best to gain his composure, but it was difficult.

“Mina says hi, by the way.” the brunette crouched down, patting Chubee on the back. “I can see if any of Mina’s medicine can help with the petals. With all the medicine substitution needed in my field, I’m sure I have something that could aid.”

Mezsha stood up with furrowed eyebrows, pulling Chubee up by the hood of his jacket. “But,” she continued after a long inhale. “It won’t be a permanent solution. There are three ways to survive this. But there are four ways to come out of this sickness.”

His throat was dry as he spoke. “How can I survive?”

Mina chortled at Chubee’s voice, which stung slightly, but it wasn’t important at the moment. Mezsha seemed to be thinking.

“Well,” She said after a few minutes, “I’ll dumb this down as much as I can, for your sake. The first way you can survive is by confessing your feelings– but your feelings must be returned. Obviously.”

The bee-keeper buzzed softly, kicking at the petals and pursing his lips. His parents stopped showing care for him long ago, and it taught him something. Never, ever, be honest with your feelings. Even in a life or death situation, don’t be honest. It’ll just hurt you in the end.

“The second way is surgery. I’m the only one here capable of performing such a feat– at least, without you risking some sort of infection. Also, I don’t know if the others would be able to perform it right. This is the most simple way, especially with how you’ll lose your feelings after, but you’ll have to place a lot of trust in me.”

Mina squealed and swiped the air.

“And, no, Mina won’t be in the room for it. That would be unsanitary.”

The blonde buzzed in amusement, rolling his shoulders. “Thanks for the reassurance. Really makes the idea less scary.”

The veterinarian stared at Chubee, a small spark of entertainment darting through her honey-yellow eyes. “Do not use sarcasm against me, Garcia. Moving on, the third way to survive such a condition is to—”

“Lose your memory.” The words burst out of his mouth, and as soon as he realized he cut her off, he took a few steps back. “Sorry.”

Mezsha’s glasses slipped down the bridge of her nose, her eyes narrowed as she stared at the beekeeper. “Most people don’t know about that, how do you?”

Chubee had never been as honest as he had been in that moment. Words spilled out without a stop put to them, and it felt like he was going to crumple over. He explained everything, how he had had the disease once before, and how a classmate told him that memory loss would help, and how the concussion left him hospitalized for a month– the last month of the school year.

He explained how hard it was for him to be honest with his emotions, because it never felt like anyone would ever care. How all the tears he forced down were trapped because he didn’t want to be picked on for crying, how he was scared of anyone getting too close because he might become attached and he didn’t want to grieve when he was abandoned.

He could only stop when his hyperventilation became too much to speak through, and it was then that he realized how nice it felt to cry. To let all he bottled up, flow out. And his words hung in the air, only interrupted by his sharp sobs and sharp, uneven, breath.

Inhale, inhale, inhale, inhale, exhale, exhale, in. He could almost feel Mezsha’s pitiful gaze, he didn’t have to look up. Exhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. His heart was pumping, and tears dripped off of his chin and to the hardwood tile. Inhale, exhale, inhale, inhale, exhale.

A fluffy heap was pushed into his chest.

“Bah!” It was a tiny, yet high-pitched, roar. Mina.

He wrapped an arm around the bear cub, tears clearing from his vision as he spoke gently. “Oh, hello there, Mina…”

Mina chortled again, turning her head to stare at her care-taker. “Raaah?”

Mezsha’s jaw was tight, and her eyebrows were furrowed together. “Keep holding Mina until you calm down. Petting her may help.” Her voice was much softer than usual, even with a hint of sorrow in it. 

Chubee’s breath slowed down bit by bit, and tears were no longer welling in his eyes. His eyes stung from dryness, and his cheeks were burning from the lament.

“Thank you for opening up.” 

He looked up, and Mezsha was slightly crouched to his height. Her eyes were damp with sympathy, and her irises were much more of a marigold color.

His words caught in his throat for a mere second. “I shouldn’t have.”

Mezsha tapped her finger against the wall, her gaze clouding and growing distant. “No, it’s okay. Bottling up emotions will never do you any good, and it will only cause harm.” 

A snarky comment came to mind, but he let Mezsha continue.

“But you should not be forced to confess your feelings, or to let others know at all times how you truly feel. So perhaps we should head back to the original topic.” 

“That would be appreciated.” Chubee’s voice was nothing more than a whisper.

----

[meetthemoosemonster]

Introducing: Thalia Zion

Hey guys, I wrote part of the backstory for the new dnd character I’m using. Her name is Thalia Zion, but her cousin, Gary, and the rest of her family calls her Thia. She is Zazz and Fiona’s grandchild, and has had a pretty safe, normal childhood, living in a forest, not far from a small town,  but this part of her back story talks about things like: death, grief, cutting, suicidal behaviors, bullying, homophobia, toxic relationships and uses the f and d slurs, so please please please be careful, and protect yourself. I’m warning you, the bit with the cutting is kinda graphic.

~~

Thalia couldn't breath. She felt like she was choking. She tried to close her eyes to focus on her breathing, but all she saw was her mom’s dead body, limp in the bed, her father draped over her, shoulders shaking as he cried. Thalia’s eyes opened again, and her breathing got more and more rapid as she considered her options.

Hands shaking, she opened the drawer next to bed, and reached to the very back, her fingers brushed against dust and grim, but then she felt something sharp shoved into the crevice press against her finger. As she pulled the forgotten razor out, she turned it over and over in her hand, her brain screaming. Thalia lifted the sharp bit of metal to her upper arm, and she winced as it dragged across her skin, leaving a thin line, little droplets of blood welled up along it. She started to focus on the pain in her arm, and drew another line on her arm. Slowly, the pressure on her chest lightened as she repeated the action again, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She then wiped the razor down, and pushed it back into the shadows of her drawer. She tied a cloth over the cuts, and put on a long sleeved shirt. Wiping the tears off her face she snuck downstairs, and out of the house.

~

Thalia looked up, confused when she heard rustling ahead of her. She tried to smile when she saw her best friend, Kate, in front of her, but upon noticing the anger on Kate’s face, Thalia immediately stepped back. She knew what an angry Kate could do, but the anger had never been directed at her before. Another girl stumbled out behind Kate, a look of pity on her face.

“Kate?” Thalia started to speak, but was slapped across the face immediately.

“You dyke! You had a fuckin crush on me? I mean of course you do, fag. At least I never have to see you again. You’ll be glad to hear that all your so-called friends agree with me. They never want to see you again.” Kate spat out as Thalia cowered under her glare.

“Kate, I-” Thalia felt like she was going to hurl.

“At least now i have an excuse to get rid of your annoying ass. I swear, i could barely stand being near you, let alone have to deal with all the clinging. I’ve honestly done everyone a favor exposing you, so you wont keep lying to us about everything.” Kate left Thalia standing there, shaking. The panic was setting in again, all consuming. Whatever relief from her feelings that she had gotten before was shattered. Her feelings felt dizzying, and all she wanted was for everything to stop, even if it was only for a minute. She felt like she was suffocating here, with her friends leaving her, her mom being gone, it was too much. She needed to leave. Right now.

~

On her way back to her house she left a note on her cousins window. It said that she was leaving for a little while because she felt trapped in this town, and it had gotten to be too much. She then snuck back into the house and grabbed a bag from her closet. Thalia grabbed an extra set of clothes, a small picture of her family, and a dagger from her drawer. As she started to close her drawer, a glint of light against metal caught her eye, and Thalia looked to see the razor laying in the corner. Slowly she picked it up and dropped it into the front pocket of the backpack and tied it shut. Thalia tried to push her thoughts down and focused on sneaking out of the house. 

By this time it was dark outside, and Thalia grabbed her mom’s cloak that was still hanging by the door, as if nothing had changed in the last week. As if her mom would walk out of her room any moment now to ask her what she was doing. But there was nothing, only the shadows around her.

Thalia knew these woods inside and out, so navigating to the town in the dark was relatively easy, other than a few branches hitting her arms, she was running through the woods without any difficulty. But she slowed down when she saw a light ahead of her, and her cousin standing there, clutching something.

“Gar? What are you doing here?” Thalia approached her cousin.

“To stop you, or if I can’t do that, make sure I give you some stuff.” Gary responded. “Thalia, you can’t go, your family needs you.

“I have a feeling I’m not going to be much help, and you’re not changing my mind, Gar.”

Gary sighed, “Yeah i figured you would say that, so I bought a couple things you might need. First,” they picked up a long sword from the ground, swung the harness over her head,” You’re gonna need a sword if you’re going on an adventure. You remember the basics I taught you, right?” Thalia nodded. Gary untied the bundle in their arms, revealing some food, water, gold and a silver necklace, a chunky locket charm attached to it.

“I got you some food and water so you don’t die cause you’re not eating or drinking. And I gave you 20 gold for things you need. It’s not a lot, but it’s what I had to spare.” Gary wrapped up everything other than the locket in the green cloth. “By the way, this was Grandma Zazz’s jacket, so don’t destroy it. I figured that you might want something of hers when you’re going on your own adventure.”

“Ok, I’ll be careful.” Thalia smiled, then picked up the locket. “Whats this?”

“Here, press down on the side, carefully.“ The locket opened up in Thalia’s palm. A green orb wrapped in paper was revealed, along with a picture of her grandparents wedding, people that Thalia couldn’t identify, but she assumed they were Zazz and Fiona’s friends, surrounding the newly married couple in the center. Gar also handed Thalia a picture of the two of them, taken when Thalia was around nine or ten, and Gar was around 18.

Gary then pointed at the green orb. “This is gardener, a slipstone. Grandma Zazz got it from the Sin of Pride, and it is to be broken only when you have ABSOLUTELY no other choice. Ok?” Gary stared intensely at Thalia, and Thalia nodded, looking down at the orb, wary. She then closed the locket , enclosing the slipstone and the pictures inside and clasped the locket around her neck.

“Gar, I really have to go, but I’ll be careful,I promise.”

“I know you will.” They embraced Thalia, and looked at her for a good second before letting go of their cousin. “I love you Thia, you better stay safe, or I’m going to have to find you and smack some sense into you.”

Thalia started to walk away, waving. “Bye Gar, take care of my dad for me.” Gary nodded sadly and watched their cousin fade into the shadows.

~~

NOTE: The items and land are NOT my creation. They are the amazing DMs work of art. What is mine are the characters from the Zion family, Thalias toxic friends, the situation, and how it plays out. Please keep that in mind.

[anne-i-write]

moriarty the patriot headcannons

| requested by anon: can you write headcanons for moriarty brothers meeting and having dinner with s/o's parents for the first time? and s/o's father is overprotective. thanks 🤍🙆🏻 |

william x reader; louis x reader; albert x reader

word count: 1857

tw: mentions of toxic behavior in albert’s hcs

a/n: IM BACK AND THRIVING BBS!!! it’s so good to be back again to writing!!! hhh i’m so sorry if this is far from what you wanted but i hope you all enjoy it nonetheless!!!! lowkey went off the railings w this one so 👀 also if i missed any tags, please let me know!!!!!

william: 803 words

it had been you and your father since you were younger bc your mom was the “lucky” choice of some noble

but you wouldn’t have it any other way

you two are very close and everyone in the town knows

that, and that you both hate nobles

so it’s no surprise when the moriartys move into town, you’re both less than pleased

you always try your best to avoid them whenever they come into your town and your father always begs his friends to take the nobles as customers, despite the fact it could be good for business

but the town you lived in was particularly small and you did end up bumping into william

literally

some stupid man didn’t see you crossing the road and you were nearly crushed by the carriage if it hadn’t been for the hand that pulled at your wrist

“i swear people these days don’t know how to drive carriages.”

you don’t know who you were expecting

BUT ANYONE BUT A NOBLE

“are you alright?”

“i’m fine thank you—“

you’re absolutely flustered

how did i not know that this was a noble??? he smells so clean!

“i’ve got to be on my way now!” and you left william there with no explanation

but lil did you know he actually knew who you were

or to an extent, you weren’t as sneaky as you’d hoped you’d be

he saw you hiding in corners and alleyways every time you two accidentally made eye contact

and some of the townsfolk actually told him a little about you and your father so he understood why you weren’t too welcoming

but to take great lengths to avoid him??? he is very intrigued

so he starts off small, trying to send you a kind smile before you dart off behind a fruit stall

he really tries his best to get close to you and after a few weeks (and a few persuasive friends), he finally gets to hold a conversation with you

and boy does he fall FAST

it takes a while but you finally reciprocate his feelings and he thinks its smooth sailing from there right???

lmao everyone knows your father is literally the most intimidating looking man that could ever walk the earth

if they didn’t know him personally, they would be afraid of getting curb stomped 🤠

i mean,, he’s a big softie but god forbid anyone even DARES to look at you in a romantic light

you warn william of this and he’s like “don’t worry love, it shouldn’t be too bad”

it is bad

even william has cold hands bc your father is giving him the dirtiest look

dinner isn’t even dinner it’s a grill with how much questions your father is asking him

it does NOT help that he’s a noble

“so,,, you’re a noble”

“your cooking is amazing sir”

your father leaves the table for a little bit and you can hear the quiet sigh of relief from william

“i’m sorry for my father”

“no, no,,, i just,,, your father’s really intimidating, isn’t he?”

you let out a chuckle and william relaxed, a soft smile gracing his lips

“he can be, but it’s just something he does.” you threw a wistful gaze at the door your father disappeared before.

“he’s just worried about you, i can see it. he doesn’t want you around people like me.” you grabbed his hand over the table and he gently squeezed your hand.

“if anything, if he’d give you a chance, he’d want me to be with you. noble or not”

you both continue to have a delightful conversation, your sweet laughs filling the room

however, you didn’t know your father was listening in on your conversation and he couldn’t agree more with william

your mother left with more than just a curt goodbye and unshed tears

she left you with a tear stained letter filled with sorrowful regrets and sincere apologies

he knew you would eventually grow up to be critical of the world and if you were to find out that your mother had left unwillingly, he was afraid that you would be too bitter towards the world

but as he hears your laugh and his worries are dulled down a little

he sees you smiling so happily at william and when he chances a glance at the noble beside you, his worries are completely erased

william’s looking at you the same way everyone swore he looked at your mother

it’s a gentle gaze filled with love and kindness, one that he knew could protect you and take care of you

your father hated nobles and hovered over you when it came to love

but he couldn’t help but hold back on questions when he came back and you instantly noticed that your father took a liking william

louis: 508 words

everyone knew you as “Little Noble” in your town

the sole reason being your father literally treating you like a noble lmao

he gave you the best of everything he could afford and tried his best to not let you do any work

tried

of course, you were a little angel and you HAD to help otherwise you’d cry about making someone else tired when you could’ve easily helped

you’ve carried this trait until your early twenties and there were no signs that you would stop

hence why you were bringing home some fresh fruits from the stall clerk before a man bumps into you

you were so caught off guard that your knee buckled and you fell on your butt

everyone was stunned into silence as you fell but louis was so apologetic

so when he helped you back up, he felt the chilling stares of the town burning into his back

and then you apologize for bumping into him when he was the one who bumped into you and you fell??????

“please, let me make you something! i feel so bad!”

he tries to decline but there was this odd pressure to say yes to you

he ends up going home with you

you’re both in front of the door before your father opens it, his eyes wide

“who is this boy?”

“oh, i didn’t get his name on the way here. what is your name?”

your poor father’s heart is pounding way too fast for his liking

“oh! look at that, thank you so much for bringing my child home! you should be going home now”

he tries to shut the door on louis but you hold it open and beckon louis inside

“i invited him here! i accidentally bumped into him earlier so i offered to make him something!”

louis is so awkward pls

your father reluctantly lets him in but gives him a side eye the whole time he’s in the house

“does your child do this often?”

“why? do you find it strange?”

YOUR FATHER IS SO PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE PLEASE SAVE LOUIS

anyways, you finish making your treat and give it to louis, your father glaring at your interaction

louis is still a little stiff but the more you talk to him, his guard is let down a little

soon enough he has to leave and you wish him well

he leaves with a wave and a kind smile and you look over at your father who had been scowling since you appeared at the front door

“he is a bit cute, don’t you think father?”

your father sputters, stunned by your bold claim

“y-you’re still too young to think about men like that!”

you laugh and shut the front door, teasing your poor father about finding love while also wondering if you would meet louis again

as you talk with your father behind closed doors, louis smiles to himself as he thinks about the unusual encounter today

surely, if i met them again tomorrow, it would make for a pleasant day

albert: 546 words

he meets your father before he meets you

it was during a ball your parents organized in order to connect with the more prestigious nobles around you

your parents were obsessed with the way your family was viewed and apparently being an earl wasn’t enough

so albert hears about you when your father boasts about how you’re the perfect child who answered to his every beck and call

in all honesty, albert was disgusted

no one deserved to be brought up like that

he casually makes his way into the conversation and your father is seething

“my child is your age, it’s a shame you act like this, i would have thought of you as a prime husband for them”

who is this earl to tell him what to do?

needless to say your father crosses him off of the guest list for the next ball

days go by and your father doesn’t know that you’re currently in town, doing what you can to help the working class as best as you can

it is on one particular day of visiting an orphanage do you run into the eldest moriarty brother

you two exchange polite greetings and you both pause

“your father is the earl, is he not?”

“you are a general of the army, are you not?”

a brief mention of your father and your mood dulls slightly

“yes, but i’m here on my own accord”

he would kill you if he found out you were amongst the “filth” as he called them

“well, i’ve brought books for the children, would you like to help me read some to them?”

he seemed sincere enough to not want anything more from you, so you agreed

he was actually very pleasant to be around and you find yourself enjoying his company

the meetups continued to happen and soon enough, albert finds himself standing in front of the doors to your family estate

your father is not pleased at all

“it’s nice to meet you again, sir”

“i didn’t forget about what you said to me at our first meeting”

and you’re sitting there like,, ????? they’ve met??? and your father doesn’t like albert???????

of course, inviting albert to your home would have repercussions but you didn’t expect your father to be so hostile

he was always hostile towards other nobles unless they were of higher importance than him

but for him to hate albert so quickly and openly??? this was quite new

you had mentioned that your father has always been one for power so it was clear to albert that you obviously grew up in a home that was more,,, toxic than protective

it was at dinner that this behavior reached its peak and albert despised the atmosphere and the way your father treated you

“i’ve come here to ask for your child’s hand in marriage”

your father rejects the idea without any hesitation

“i refuse to have them live the rest of their life in your household when they could do so much better”

when you invited albert that night, you knew there would be repercussions with your father

but what you didn’t expect was that you would leave your father and adopt the moriarty name as your own, the family welcoming you with open arms

moriarty the patriot taglist: @zoehanji

[starconsumer444]

BULLY TENDOU PT2! PLS OMG IT WAS SO GOOD

Thanks bae!!! I have 3 requests for a part 2 of this so here it is. Its most likely not what the audience wanted but its the best I could come up with.

(Tendou & Semi 18+)

(CW/TW: Gn!Reader, Facefucking, Abuse, Humiliation, !!PISSSSS!!, violence, threesome??? [kinda??? this is literally one of the least concerning tags...], Non-con/Rape, Ushijima is there... in the background, this is super fucked up!!!, PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING!!!, tell me if there are any spelling or grammar errors.)

It’s been a month. Tendou hasn’t bothered you for a month since your last… “interaction”. Why this? Why now?

Thinking you could trust Ushijima was a mistake; a huge, disgusting, dumb, mistake. When he pushes you into the locker room and you see Tendou and Semi sitting patiently on the benches, you know for a fact this is not going to end well. A sense of urgency floods your body and you turn around to push the door open, but it won’t budge.

You start to bang on the door, it’s lunch time so you’re sure that Ushijima is the only one outside of that door that can hear you. He has to be the one holding it shut.

“Ushijima! Open the door!” Your fists pound against the cold metal. It hurts like hell, but anything is better than being in this room. “Ushijima please!” You slam your full weight into the crash bar, but it does nothing. You kick at the door, nothing. And you're back to pounding to no avail. Why is he so strong?

“Don’t leave me in here!” You scream, your throat is raw. “Help me!”

It does nothing.

Your body is shaking, your legs are like jelly, it’s hard to breathe; you're sure you're going to die in this room.

“You want out?” The voice comes from right above you, and you jump. It’s unmistakably Tendou. His fingers dance gently across one of your shoulder blades, “Why are you shaking? I could tell him to let you out if you want to leave so badly.” With a rough hand he turns you around to face him. “You want me to tell him to let you go?”

You can’t bring your eyes to meet his, you just nod to the floor.

“Why? I thought you had a crush on SemiSemi? I brought him just for you.” He mocks you.

Tears start to fall, you shake your head and bring your palms up to your eyes to hide that you're crying.

He grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face, locking you in a gaze that feels hypnotic. He looks so terrifying, but it’s intense and you can’t look away.

“Listen to me. I’m being fucking considerate.” His tone is harsher than before, the harshness you’ve grown familiar with. “Just do us a favor and we’ll let you go. Okay?” It’s not really a question. You can’t even bring yourself to nod, you just stare into his eyes, horrified to react.

He must’ve taken your silence as an okay. No, he just didn’t care.

Either way, you ended being dragged to the showers at the back of the locker room and forced to suck Semi off.

“Try harder.” Semi demands from above you.

You’re really trying, but you’ve never done this before. The hand you have wrapped around the base of his dick is shaking, and you can’t go down very far. You don’t know what to do.

“Dude, it’s bad.” He speaks to Tendou like you’re not even there.

“You’re too dumb to suck dick, right? Is that it? Not even your crush gets good head?”

The tears never stopped, but now they definitely flow harder. You pull away from Semi to wipe your tears, but it's quickly met with an “uh-uh” from Semi and his fingers pulling at your roots.

“Open your mouth.” He says. 

You don’t; Tendou kicks your thigh, “Do it, dumbass.”

Your mouths open and he’s slowly feeding himself back into it, “Watch your teeth.” He says, and suddenly he has both his hands on either side of your head with his dick touching the back of your throat. “It’ll be easier if we do it this way,” He says before he pulls out and slams back in.

Immediately you’re fighting him, hands pushing against his thighs trying to get away from him, but he keeps going as you choke around him. You’re clawing at his forearms and he’s not giving you a moment to breathe with his brutal assault on your throat. He just holds your head in place and acts like this is okay.

“Calm down,” Semis' voice is unstable from the pleasure he’s getting from this. “It’ll be better if you calm down.”

You can’t bring yourself to stop panicking. Your hands find purchase on Semis’ thighs and squeeze. You try to find your voice to beg him to stop, but you choke as he fucks the words right down your throat. Even you coughing around him doesn’t get him to stop, it just has Tendou laughing at you and noting how pathetic you are from the side.

“Feels so good,” Semi breathes out almost as a warning. Your nose is pressed into his abdomen in no time, and he’s holding you there. Your eye’s must’ve been closed the whole time, because when you look up at him all you can see is his blissed out expression; his eyes are closed and his mouth hangs open as he lets out soft moans. It’s all just a warning.

His hips buck forward slightly into your mouth as he cums down your throat. It doesn’t get very far before you’re coughing it right back up, some of it spilling onto the floor.

Semi pulls you off of him and steps away back into the locker room. Now it’s just you and Tendou. You know in your heart it can get so much worse than what Semi just did to you.

“Lick it up.” Tendous voice is stern but playful, like this is all a joke to him. “Come on,” He pushes your head down to the glob of Semis cum you let get away. “Lick it up.” He demands again.

The thought of licking cum off this dirty shower floor has your stomach ready to lurch out of your body. With his palm flat against your head, you shake it as best you can and immediately come to regret it when he kicks you in your ribcage. The pain travels like lightning though your body and has you immediately curling in on yourself and groaning. “Do it now or I’m just gonna beat you, your choice…”

You move to do it. You press your tongue against the cold tiled floor and drag it across with your eyes screwed shut. It’s shameful to say the least. It feels like you're going to vomit. Your eyes don’t need to be open to know how much Tendou enjoys this. The floor is cold, but his cum is noticeably warm and the texture is different.

You swallow it; a shiver wracks your frame.

“See, it wasn't that bad,” You look at him with bloodshot eyes. You can’t cry anymore and you have a headache.

“Tendou please,” It’s laced with nothing but defeat. “What did I do to you?”

“Some people just deserve it.”

So, nothing. You did nothing.

“Sit up. Open wide.”

It’s work to resist at this point, you don’t have it in you. You simply do as he says. You’ll take his dick in your mouth and this will all be over with. You’ll be done, you’ll never come to school again.

You sit up with your eyes screwed shut waiting for Tendou to use you the way Semi used you. His palm rests on your forehead and his fingers are locked into the front section of your hair, “Ready?” His smile is sadistic, but that’s just parr for the course.

It’s gross. You close your mouth immediately, you recoil, and Tendou laughs like this is even slightly funny. That alarmed look really does something for him, though.

His piss is warm and it smells gross. You, unfortunately got some of it in your mouth and your face scrunches at the taste. You try to pull away from him but his death grip on your hair gives you nowhere to run to. He just pisses on your face and it flows downward to soil your uniform.

You want to yell at him, but if you open your mouth again…

Soon it’s over, his piss has soaked into your uniform and you reek of it.

He nudges his dick at your tightly closed lips, “Clean it.”

You do so reluctantly. Your breathing is heavy and shaky, and the only sound you can hear. You’re supposed to be crying, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it anymore.

Your tongue swirls around the head of his dick and for a second you consider biting him, but you’re in no shape to fight him about it and even if you weren’t covered in his piss you wouldn’t win.

He leaves you there after you clean him off. He says something about the showers working perfectly fine, hoping you have a change of clothes, and the next p.e. class seeing you.

It’s your last year of school and you’re dropping out.

[asssikawa]

pretty boy swag

i was just in a silly goofy mood, dont take it seriously pls;; gojo x gn! reader

summary: gojo being a pick me boy for you

AU where curses don’t exist; tw underaged smoking and drinking courtesy of shoko. art by @reiouta

you didn’t know how much longer you could tolerate the menace to society; satoru gojo. as of the passing recent months, he started actually acknowledging your existence after months of hanging around his acquaintances. you weren’t sure if you missed that he walked past you as if you were thin air, constantly bumping shoulders with him or gojo actually pestering you in the name of “wanting to get closer.”

walking down the empty halls of your school, you had memorized each route gojo and his group walked down… just to avoid them. an all too familiar voice followed by a song boomed in the empty hallways; dread immediately rose in you, as you attempted to pick up speed to lose track of the white haired teen. “pretty boy coming through,” he said in a sing-a-long voice, his eyes landing on your distant figure. “(name)!” he called out, making you flinch. slowly, you turned your head, a forced smile burning the sides of your mouth.

“hey gojo,” you squeaked out; you wished you could beat yourself up for sounding so meek. on gojo’s sides, two others peered out, the more tolerable ones from the group; suguru getou and shoko ieiri. a sigh of relief left your mouth upon seeing the two. getou’s usual content expression morphed into one of a sly fox.

“now gojo, it’s not nice to scare the underclassmen. you should know better,” getou said, followed up by shoko’s sarcastic tsk tsk of disappointment.

“right? what would poor utahime think about you bothering her best friend?” shoko said. she wore gojo’s sunglasses, adjusting them every now and then when they slid down her high nose bridge.

you take it back. they were just as bad as him.

gojo’s mouth opened to say something, but the bell cut him off. saved by the bell; quite literally. “get to class,” he said instead, another smirk splitting his face.

“i plan to,” you deadpanned, before hastily rushing to your first period, math. never have you wanted to be in math class so bad until gojo popped into your life. hell, you weren’t even good at math.

why had he started tormenting you out of all people? there was nothing particularly extraordinary about you; maybe it was the fact you were close to utahime? or nanami and haibara?

lost in your thoughts and endless possibilities, you had missed the bell ringing until the bubbly boy peered over your desk. his doe-like eyes scanned your dazed out face. “(name)? earth to (name)?” haibara said, waving his hand in front of your face. the taller blond man sighed, watching you finally snap out of your thoughts.

“you don’t even have any of the notes written, (name), that isn’t good for the quiz tomorrow,” nanami said, pulling out his composition book, before beckoning you to take the notebook.

“kenny,” you started.

“i’ll take that notebook right back if you call me that again.”

“you are godsent,” you said, batting your eyelashes his way. a hearty laugh emitted from haibara, his bright smile nearly lit up nanami’s mood once more.

“what’s got you thinking so hard?” haibara asked, draping his body over the seat while watching you pack up.

“surely if you’re thinking, it’s never good,” nanami muttered, earning an offended ‘hey’ from you. pressing your cheek against your balled fist, letting out a small hum. do you tell them or not?

“it’s just that, you know how gojo had never acknowledged me before? he’s been non stop pestering me these days and i’m thinking to myself; why? he couldn’t possibly like utahime and trying to get information out of me, she hates his guts!” you exclaimed, adjusting the bag over your shoulders. the duo glanced at each other, focusing back on you.

“(name), have you considered that he may like you? you know? have a crush?” haibara said, scratching the back of his head. you stayed silent for a while, pondering on the idea of gojo liking you.

“that’s a joke right,”

“why are you so pessimistic about people actually taking interest in you, romantically?” nanami asked, leaning against the desk.

“no romantic attention from anyone my entire life,” you said, standing from your seat.

“how lonely,” haibara responded.

~

the last few periods went by quicker than expected. the ring of the bell pulled you out of your thoughts, turning away from the window. it was surprisingly beautiful for this time of year; the skies were blue, soft fluffy clouds passed every now and then. the occasional gust of wind rattled windows of your class as your teacher paused his lecture. you preferred the gloomy weather, but seeing the clear skies was nice. packing up your materials and standing, you peered out the door, widening your eyes. down the hall was your trio of haibara, nanami and utahime… speaking to the other trio. utahime’s raven hair was tied in a low ponytail, a vague look of annoyance washed over on her face as gojo spoke, her expression softened every time shoko had interjected the conversation. you always wondered why the two aren’t dating yet. nanami’s eyes landed on your figure, his fingers pointed downwards towards the steps, in hopes gojo hadn’t seen you yet.

unfortunately for the both of you, he had caught notice of nanami’s subtle hand motions and followed his eyes towards you. “wow, it’s (name)! we were just waiting on you!” gojo said, his sunglasses shifted downwards, revealing his icicle blue eyes. utahime turned towards you, mouthing an ‘i am so sorry.’ reluctantly, your feet dragged along the halls, it felt as if weights were tied around your ankles. eventually, you made it towards the group; gojo’s long arm draped around your shoulders. your heart raced at the sudden gesture, heat raising to your face. “wouldn’t we be so cute together? look how big my hand is compared to theirs!” he exclaimed, his hand engulfed in yours.

“nah, you guys wouldn’t, sorry he’s so annoying, (name). no wonder why getou gets more hoes than you,” shoko said, pulling out a single cigarette and a lighter from her bag. her auburn eyes met yours, “want one?”

“shoko! how many times do i have to say not to smoke? and (name) is young too!” utahime sighed, earning a small ‘sorry’ from the girl. the black haired teen peered over at you, another sly expression settling over his face.

“say, satoru; let me compare hands with (name) too, i want to see something,”

“you can compare from afar,” gojo responded, pulling you closer to his side. a chesire cat grin split shoko’s face, slinging her arm over your body as well.

“cmon satoru, sharing is caring~” her body smelt of husky tobacco, traces of pinewood on her uniform. her breath smelt like strawberry bubblegum; her glossed lips came closer to your ear, “play along,” she whispered, her brunette strands brushing against your cheek. a snore followed by a scoff came from gojo’s scrunched up expression.

“don’t you have a bottle of vodka you should be downing? besides (name) doesn’t like girls like you,” he said, sticking out his tongue.

“well, why don’t we ask (name), what do you say?”

“don’t put them on the spot like that; seriously, you guys, you’re third years for pete’s sake,” utahime swatted shoko’s arm off your body whilst poking gojo’s side, making him squeal as he let go of you. a frown replaced his usual cocky expression.

“geez utahime, i didn’t take you as the jealous type- ouch, what was that for?” gojo exclaimed, the water bottle bouncing off his head. he rubbed his head. you stared at haibara’s sympathetic expression, still processing everything that happened within a matter of minutes.

just what the fuck was going on?

weeks had passed since that incident and things had become fairly normal again. your grades were flourishing, with the help of haibara and nanami. the three of you have been hanging out more often; utahime and shoko finally started dating. the two of them occasionally tagged along with your trio. gojo has finally stopped pestering you; you should be happy, no? you had convinced yourself that you didn’t miss the attention from the white haired teen. everything you did felt empty without his presence.

you had memorized each hallway gojo and his group walked down, passing through them; in hopes he would stop you, calling your name in his usual whiny voice. you didn’t hear his favorite song; no more him bringing you close with his lanky arms. subconsciously, you brought your hand close to your shoulders, feeling the ghost of gojo’s touch. “(name)? what are you doing here? more like, why are you standing there?” a feminine voice called out. you turned, seeing shoko standing down the hall, her bag slugged over her shoulder, a lit cigarette dangled from the corner of her lips.

“shoko,” her name left your lips in a hushed whisper. “why are you here?” she quirked her lip to the side, pursing her pink lips.

“i’m heading to see menace 1 and menace 2, now, answer my question. you hardly come around these parts,” shoko said, leaning against the wall.

“can i come with you?”

“huh… ah, you miss gojo?” overwhelming amounts of embarrassment washed over your expression; you could already sense your face radiating in heat.

“whatever! i just want to check up on him, that’s all.”

walking down the road, you and shoko conversed, her short auburn tresses blowing in the wind. the roads and sidewalks were painted orange as the sun nestled under the skyline.

“i thought you stopped smoking?” you asked, as shoko tossed the finished cigarette on the sidewalk, stomping on it.

“i’m trying for utahime, but it gets hard when i’m stressed, you know? especially with dumb and dumber,” she said, pulling out a silver flask.

“shoko!”

“what? do you want a sip?”

“no!”

sitting at the park, getou and gojo awaited shoko’s arrival. squinting his eyes at the distance, getou spotted two figures walking towards them. “looks like shoko has company,” getou mentioned, looking back at his taller companion. a frustrated groan left gojo; his glasses slipping down his face.

“good god, if she brings utahime again,” he responded, extending his arms on the bench, his legs spread out. a sly smirk twitched onto getou’s face.

“hey shoko and (name)!” getou exclaimed, waving. gojo’s half-lidded eyes shot open at your name, adjusting his sunglasses. his lanky body rose from the bench, straightening out his sluggish position. he cleared his throat, crossing his legs over each other. upon seeing getou and shoko greet one another, your eyes drifted off to the white haired male sitting in the background, avoiding eye contact with you. a crestfallen expression washed over your face, shuffling over to gojo.

“hey, gojo,” you said softly, sitting across from him. he let out a hum of acknowledgement before looking down at the painted bench. “why have you been avoiding me?”

“why have i been avoiding you? i don’t know (name), maybe just maybe, it’s because i don’t want to bother you with my advances, y’know? could be a contributor i guess, i don’t know, it’s a mystery,” gojo responded, traces of sarcasm in his usual bright voice. he was quite literally a child, huh? your mind recoiled, a frown twitching onto your face. is this who you really want to date?

“listen, i know, and i’m sorry; i just miss you a lot, okay? i like you by my side,” you muttered the last part to yourself. unfortunately for you, gojo had heard every single bit of it.

“huh? what did you say?” he teased, resting his hand on top of yours. his glasses slide down his nose, revealing his ice blue eyes. “you like me, eh?”

“don’t push it.”

the winter semester rolled by rather quickly. walking into the heated building, you removed your outside shoes and scarf. after preparing yourself for the long day, you walked down the hallway, spotting your group down the hallway. peering over the group, gojo waved at you with a big smile, his cheeks and nose tip flushed red from the cold. “babe!” he said, walking over to you with opened arms. heat rose to your face, as he wrapped his arms around you, peppering your face with small kisses. his cold fingers cupped your feverish skin. “my own personal heater,” he said.

“hey, get a room, you two,” shoko said, pulling out an unlit cigarette. utahime frowned at her, as shoko mumbled a small sorry before putting away the cigarette.

“i know miss locking lips isn’t talking,” gojo sneered back. “guys look at how cute (name) is compared to me! their hands are so small!” he gushed, pressing your warm hands against his.

if it were you four months ago, you’d rip away your hand in disgust, however, a warm smile split your face, holding onto his long slender fingers.

“look they are even holding onto me,” gojo said, as the bell rang. everyone shuffled around to their respective classes as you and your group stayed at the end of the hall. with a smirk, his white eyelashes fluttered under his sunglasses. they slowly went down his nose bridge, exposing his beautiful eyes once more. “get to class.”

[eliemo]

Solitary

Summary: Logan wakes up. He wasn't supposed to this time.

TWs: aftermath of a suicide attempt, implied/referenced self harm, self hatred and self esteem issues, hopeful ending

Notes: Mind the tags pls, I wrote this with no plan at like 1am. Platonic LAMP

When Logan woke up, the first thing he registered was a splitting headache, white hot pain spreading down his head to his spine like his skull was being snapped in two.

The next was the pulsing agony in both of his arms, shooting up to his shoulders with a sudden intensity that made him gasp before he could stop himself, only to be met with another stabbing pain in his throat.

“Hey hey hey, easy.” A vaguely familiar voice filtered in from somewhere nearby, but Logan was pretty sure the pain would only worsen if he opened his eyes to look. “Easy, Lo. You’re safe, you’re ok.”

All Logan was able to manage was an awful sounding croak. He felt someone running their hand gently through his hair, another holding the side of his face.

“Breathe, kiddo. You’re ok.”

Patton. A bit of the rising alarm faded when he recognized the moral side’s voice, but something still pulled at his chest when he realized how scared Pat sounded. What was going on?

“Can you open your eyes?” Patton asked, soft and concerned right beside his ear. “We really miss you, Logan.”

Patton’s voice broke a bit at the end, miserable and pleading, and that was enough for Logan to risk pain that came with the sudden light, making another weak noise in the back of his throat as he pried his eyes open, surprised and a little frustrated over how much effort it took.

Like he’d warily expected, the barrage of light did feel like someone was repeatedly taking a knife to his eyes, but it wasn't nearly as intense as he’d anticipated.

It took a second for everything to come into focus, but when it did Logan could make out that he was on the couch in the living room, a dark blue blanket draped over him, the curtains closed over the windows to keep the sunlight out of the dim room.

Patton was crouched beside him, fingers still running through Logan’s hair, slow and gentle. Virgil was perched on the other end of the couch, eyeshadow smeared and staining his face with dried black tears.

Roman was standing beside the armchair just a few paces away, looking like he’d just been startled out of his seat, face pale, eyes wide and shiny.

They all looked...awful. They looked about as bad as Logan felt right now.

“Wh-what?” It hurt to talk, voice raspy and shaking, but the confusion was only making his head hurt more. “What’s happening, I—”

“I’ll, uh- I’ll get him some water,” Roman said hastily, failing to hide the worried glance he sent Patton’s way. “Hang in there, Teach.”

Roman was gone before Logan could say anything, and his gaze wandered instead to Virgil who was still planted by his feet, shifting anxiously where he sat, glancing between Logan and Patton like he was waiting for someone to speak.

Luckily Roman wasn’t gone for long, hurrying back into the room within seconds and practically thrusting a glass of water in Logan’s face.

He moved to sit up and take it, only to hiss at the pain shooting up his arms at the tiniest of movements, falling limply back onto the cushions.

“Don’t use your hands, honey,” Patton said, a second too late. “Here, let me help you, ok?”

Any other time Logan would have protested. He was perfectly capable of drinking a cup of water by himself. But right now all he had the energy to do was give a tiny nod and let Patton help him to sit up.

He didn’t have the energy to fight, keeping his aching arms under the blanket and letting Patton bring the cup to his lips. The cold water eased the pain in his throat somewhat, even if it took a frustratingly long time for Logan to swallow a few sips.

“There you go,” Patton said when he saw done, and Logan hated how overly gentle the other side was being with him. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” Logan said, despite how badly everything hurt. “What...happened?”

He saw the three of them exchange worried glances among themselves, trying and failing once again to hide it from Logan. His head was still too heavy to remember what had put him in this position in the first place, but their concern was only worsening his rising anxiety. Or maybe he was just picking up on some of Virgil’s distress.

The anxious side shifted again, brows drawn together as he looked Logan over. “Do you not...remember what happened?”

Logan took a moment, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing against the lump in his throat, taking a moment to catalogue his aching body, his headache, and the searing pain shooting up his arms.

“Was I...injured?”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Patton immediately burst into tears. To his dismay, Roman and Virgil’s eyes started welling up at the same time.

Oh, god. Logan was even less prepared to deal with their emotions than he usually was.

“Is that…” he trailed off, swallowed, and tried again. “Is that a yes?”

Patton only began crying harder, and before Logan could try to apologize the moral side was throwing himself forward, arms wrapped around Logan as best he could, sobbing loudly into his chest.

“Patton, I—”

“I’m so sorry!” Patton wailed, only further growing Logan’s confusion. “I’m so sorry Lo, I’m so sorry! We didn’t- we didn’t know! I swear we had no idea!”

“Let him take a moment to wake up, Padre,” Roman said, still hovering anxiously. He and Virgil were being much quieter about their distress, but both of their faces were soaked with tears. “But we...we really are sorry. Gosh, Logan we’re so so sorry.”

Logan screwed his eyes shut again, still coming up blank when he tried to connect the dots. “What...what on earth are you apologizing for?”

“For not realizing you felt that way, Lo.” Virgil moved to put a hand on Logan’s leg, refusing to look the logical side in the eyes. “Jeez- you’re family and we never...we never noticed.”

Patton was still bawling into his shirt, Virgil tightened his own hold, Roman began pacing as he tended to do when he was stressed, and Logan still had absolutely no clue what was going on. Why wouldn’t someone just tell him what had happened?

“Patton...” Logan stopped, first from the pain that came with raising his hand to touch Patton’s shoulder, then from the shock of seeing his arms. “I—”

“Don’t look, baby,” Patton said, gently guiding his hands back under the blanket like Logan hadn’t gotten a clear view of blood stained bandages wrapped around his arms from his wrists to his elbows. “You’re ok.”

His arms were...had he...?

Roman cleared his throat, and Logan looked over at the sound. The Prince held a wrinkled piece of paper in his hand, crumpled and a little stained, and the writing Logan could just barely make out was suddenly alarmingly familiar.

“We, uhm. We found your note.”

And just like that it all came rushing back- the overwhelming pain, the emotions, everything spiraling out of his usually so strict control as he finally let everything out onto a flimsy piece of notebook paper.

He’d lost control, no longer able to see a better way out. All he’d been focused on was the horrible pain in his arms soaked with blood that signified an ending he hadn’t even been sure he really wanted.

It came back in a fragmented blur, and Logan abruptly remembered that he wasn’t supposed to have woken up.

Oh. Oh no.

“I am...so sorry,” Logan said, at a loss for what else to do. “It was never my intention for you all to—”

“Your intention was pretty fucking clear,” Virgil snapped, and Logan was taken aback by the hostility in Anxiety’s voice. “Jesus Christ, Lo! What were you thinking?”

“Virgil,” Patton snapped, but the wavering in his voice overshadowed any vehemence. “That’s...let’s calm down, kiddo. Ok?”

Virgil wiped his eyes with his sleeves, shoulders hunched as he crossed his arms and stared at the ground. Logan’s chest squeezed, guilt and panic overwhelming.

“How long was I...asleep?”

Patton gave a shaky sigh, going back to running his hands through Logan’s hair. “Since last night. It’s...I think three in the afternoon now.”

Logan’s stomach dropped, and the pain in his arms flared up again as he struggled to sit up, only to fall limp against the back of the couch. He’d been out all day, forcing the other sides to stop what they were doing and look after him.

He couldn’t imagine how much damage and stress he’d caused. The one thing he’d been trying to avoid doing any more of.

“I’m very sorry,” Logan said, forcing his voice to remain steady. “My intentions were not to be an inconvenience or cause any unnecessary stress. I will attempt to get back on schedule as soon as possible and—”

“Get back on schedule?”

Logan couldn’t remember hearing Virgil yell like this, shrinking back into Patton’s arms before he could stop himself, the anxious side having stood up from the couch, eyes wide and brimming with new tears.

Logan cleared his throat, struggling to speak with his heart hammering in his chest. “I...apologize for—”

“You think we’re upset over the schedule?” Virgil snapped, flinching when Roman moved closer to put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve been sitting here for hours waiting for you to wake up after you tried to kill yourself and you think we’re upset because we’re behind schedule? Are you fucking serious, Logan?”

The screaming eventually dissolved into ragged sobs, and Logan watched as Roman gathered Virgil up his arms and pulled him close, the anxious side burying his face into the Prince’s chest.

Roman hadn’t stopped silently crying, silent tears sliding down his cheeks as he pressed his nose to Virgil’s hair, trembling with the strength it took to hold back his sobs. And Patton hadn’t let go of him, half of Logan’s shirt soaked with the moral side’s tears.

He hadn’t...expected this. Any of it.

Honestly, Logan hadn’t expected anyone to even notice his absence at first. He supposed they might not have known he’d...passed at all if he hadn’t been found before he’d finished.

He'd expected them to be mildly agitated when they found out he was gone, a little annoyed that he’d taken such drastic measures instead of continuing to ignore it and move on for Thomas’s sake. They'd have to make their schedules themselves now, and his death would likely push a few things back.

Things might be a bit less efficient without him but...they’d realize it was for the best eventually. They would be happier without him around. The air would be lighter.

It would be quieter. They wouldn’t have to constantly hide their annoyance every time he opened his mouth.

They wouldn’t have to deal with him at all anymore.

He hadn’t...expected anyone to be upset over the thought of losing him. He hadn’t even succeeded, he was perfectly fine, and every single one of them was in very clear distress.

“I am...very sorry,” he tried again, wondering if all he’d managed to do was ruin things irreparably. “I never wanted to upset any of you.”

“It isn’t about us,” Patton said, reaching over to quickly squeeze Virgil’s hand. “It’s not about our feelings. It’s about yours.”

“No, Virgil is right. It was selfish of me to—”

“It wasn’t selfish,” Virgil said quickly. He pulled away from Roman, just enough to look at Logan. “It’s not...it wasn’t selfish, Lo. It wasn’t your fault.”

Logan frowned, because that...was an exceptionally strange thing to say. Especially when he had every right to scream until his voice was hoarse. “Of course it was. I did it to myself. I was fully aware of what I was doing.”

That made Patton tighten his hold and Virgil’s gaze drop to the floor, but Logan didn’t falter. It was the truth. He wasn’t going to make excuses or pretend to be ashamed. He’d been convinced it was the right thing to do.

Roman suddenly sighed, trembling and quiet, the only one able to meet Logan’s eyes. “Sometimes our brains tell us things, Lo. They aren’t true and they’re awful but it’s...hard not to listen. You just need some help quieting the thoughts.”

“My thoughts are...perfectly rational,” Logan said, despite the situation. “I was simply mistaken. I thought I was doing what was best.”

“You thought we hated you!” Patton was crying again, sobbing with nothing holding him back, and Logan suddenly couldn’t bring himself to look at the note left on the coffee table. “You thought...Lo, the things you said—”

“I was wrong,” Logan said curtly, even as a prickle of dread settled in his stomach. “I was...I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

He was a bit taken aback by how quickly the three of them burst into affirmations, all of them suddenly crowded around him, holding him close as gently as possible. Keeping him safe.

“We love you,” Virgil was saying, and the anxious side had somehow managed to half commandeer his lap, his arms wrapped around his Logan’s middle. “I love you, Logan, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not...your fault,” Logan said, wishing his arms didn't hurt quite so bad. He couldn’t even attempt to hug anyone back. “I shouldn’t—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Roman spoke up, placing a gentle but grounding hand on Logan’s back. “I know it feels like you did, Teach. I know. But you didn’t.”

“I tried to...I- I thought—”

“You’re in a bad place and we didn’t notice,” Virgil said, barely audible from where his face was pressed into Logan’s shirt. “That’s our fault. We- I should have been there to help, I didn’t know you—”

“I was attempting to hide it.” Hiding it had become normal. He’d hoped it would all simply go away, or fade away to the background at the very least if he just pretended.

But it had only grown worse, leaving him feeling empty and numb and hurt each time he was ignored and talked over, each time an argument went a little too far, each time he felt like a burden for simply speaking his mind. For having a thought in the first place.

He’d thought they hated him. He thought they hated the sound of his voice, his presence in their lives, his existence. A bitter part of him had wondered if they’d celebrate his death before erasing him from their memories entirely.

He hadn’t been able to say it aloud. But he’d finally been able to sit down and put it all on paper, finalizing it into one last goodbye.

Logan has been stupid. Logic had failed, and he’d done something irrational.

If he couldn’t even do his job well enough to keep himself alive, what even was the point in keeping him around? Thomas might be better off without him after all—

“Logan.” Patton was right in front of him now, warm hands on Logan’s cheeks, effectively cutting off his spiraling thoughts. “We’re here now. We’re here and we know.”

Logan curled his shoulders and nodded, the thought equally comforting and terrifying. He’d never planned on having to face the consequences of this decision. Of his awful, irrational feelings.

“We’re gonna help you kiddo,” Patton continued. “You’re not alone, Logan. You never ever have been. I’m so sorry you thought you were.”

Logan swallowed, alarmed at how tight his throat was becoming, vision quickly becoming blurred. “I...I don’t want to cause any pointless stress. We’re all busy.”

“We’re worried about you,” Patton said softly, never letting go of Logan. “You worry about the people you love. You worry about family.”

“I...” he paused, closing his eyes as the tears finally spilled over. “I wasn’t...sure that I was.”

Virgil lifted his head and frowned, but Logan refused to look down at him, staring blankly at the wall instead. “You weren’t...what? Family?”

Logan didn’t respond, didn’t jump to correct the assumption because he...couldn’t. He’d questioned his place for so long, somewhere along the way he’d begun assuming nobody cared. That it wasn’t a question for anyone else.

The heartbroken noises from the other three sides made him flinch, and he melted into their touch as they rushed to assure him once again, hard as it was to focus on anything they were saying.

He’d been so stupid. How could he have mistaken this for anything but love?

“You’re family, Logan,” Roman said, holding him from behind with his head now rested on Logan’s shoulder. “You will always be family. I’m so sorry it got this bad.”

Logan wasn’t sure when he’d started letting himself cry in earnest, but now that he’d started he couldn’t stop.

There were three pairs of arms around him, holding him close while he trembled and sobbed and tried to force out apologies that kept getting caught in his throat.

He’d been selfish, and he’d upset them all so much but…

But he’d been so hurt. He’d felt so hurt for months and none of them had noticed. Nobody had asked. He wasn’t angry, he knew they would never have left him like that if they could have known. But it didn’t change the fact that it had happened.

But it was...going to be better now. Logan wanted so badly to believe it was going to get better.

“We’re going to fix this,” Patton said, and Logan’s eyes slipped shut when the moral side once again began playing with his hair. “We’re gonna be right here, Lo. We’ve got you. It won’t ever get this bad again.”

Logan felt himself drifting back to sleep, the pain fading to a dull ache in the background, and he didn’t try to fight against it. His chest was still heavy, mind clouded with distorted thoughts and doubts, and he knew none of that would disappear the next time he woke up. He wasn’t naive enough to hope it would.

But he had a way to fix it now. A way that wasn’t quite so final as his original plan.

And his family would be there when he woke up. He didn’t have to do this by himself anymore. He didn’t have to be the only one trying to fix this.

Logan believed them. He wouldn’t have to do it alone. Never again.

[dreadpoetssociety]

Fevers Don’t Exist

TW: Fever ? (I’m not sure what counts for triggers so pls lmk if I miss anything)

Prompt: hi!! could u do one maybe where like, the reader is an actress on supernatural and she plays like their younger sister on the show or something and she gets sick at a con or something? Thanks !!

NOTE: Hey guys, I’m alive!!!! I know I have a lot of Spencer prompts atm, but it’s really hard to write them when I’m not like, hyper focused on Criminal Minds. I am going to try though! So sorry I’ve left so many of you in the wind, I am a very inconsistent person, my bad. But here’s this! It’s REALLY bad because I’m terrible at being realistic but like idk it’s something.

I really don’t even know what to put for tags on this. 

()()()()()() 

Ah, September. You knew what came along every September, and looked forward to it for the first eight months of every year. Secaucus, New Jersey. You loved every con you went to, truly. Everyone was so nice, you love staying in hotels, panels are such a great time, the whole thing. It's a great experience outside of the set to get connected with fans. And, they loved you almost as much as you loved them. You were typically closer in age, since you were still just a teenager. You also started out as a fan of the show before somehow snatching a role, so you really were with them at one point. Everything that excites them excited you just as much. And, you loved making friends with them. You weren't allowed to be reckless with your phone number, so you made a snapchat that you shared exclusively with con goers, whom you made swear to secrecy. It was like a club, and you just enjoyed genuinely talking to everyone. But, when you woke up that first morning, you knew it was going to be a long day. Your body ached, and you were still pretty exhausted. You had a fever, but didn't really know if it was a fever because you were still young, and God forbid you ever decided to recognize the signs of you being sick. It was almost like a form of denial, not knowing. You were sweating, but freezing, and your throat felt particularly dry. Your headache rested underneath your eyes for the most part, to which you just blamed on being tired. Your stomach didn't hurt, but you definitely weren't hungry. Even though you hadn't felt exactly 100% the past days before, and you obviously weren't feeling right now, you just deduced that it was all because you were tired, and had a late flight in. As a responsible person does, of course. You didn't even bother taking any medicine for it, because hey, you obviously weren't sick, you'd feel better in a bit, and you didn't have any, so why waste the time, right? 

You groggily got dressed and met up with "the boys" (even though they were all older than you) for the free breakfast downstairs, in a separate room, since fans did happen to stay in the same hotel. You grabbed some Cheerios, only to conspicuously throw them away after. 

"You good, Y/N?" Jared asked out loud, gaining the attention of Jensen, Misha, and Alex. You could feel their eyes burning through your skin. Or, maybe that was the fever. It had to be their eyes, you convinced yourself, you didn't have a fever. You were fine. 

"Yeah, why?" you asked, faking the perk in your voice and confused eyes. Your eyes felt really heavy, you noticed. 

"You just... You look exhausted. And pale." he said, "And you threw away that cereal without eating any of it." 

You looked down at yourself as an effect for what you were about to say, "Wow, well that's one way to make me self-conscious. I thought I looked kind of poppin'." you laughed slightly, trying to play it off. 

"W-wait, no that's- that's not what I meant! You look fine, I just-" he was embarrassed. You and the others chuckled.

"I'm kidding. I'm all good, just went to bed late, y'know?" you smiled. It was hard to try and mask the rasp in your voice, and doing so made you feel the need to cough, so you downed some water until it dialed down a bit. He nodded. In your mind, you blessed your acting skills, thinking you got away with it. What you didn't know was that Misha, Jensen, and Jared, as fathers do, knew every trick in the book, and each noted to keep an eye on you. Not to mention, they'd been acting far longer than you had, and could just tell when one switches into a character. They all figured that if you weren't sick now, you would be in days to come, and exchanged glances with each other, while Alex innocently continued to chew on his toast. 

"Well, if you're tired, I don't think you have a panel or anything for another hour or something, maybe you could catch up on some sleep then." Jared suggested. You shrugged.

"Nah," you said, "I've got photo-ops in like, twenty minutes. I should actually probably get going. I'll catch up later!" 

You left with a wave, and disappeared into the hotel somewhere. You stopped in your room, allowing yourself finally to set free the coughs living in the back of your throat. You blamed it on your throat being dry since you didn't drink enough water. Not on germs. So, you grabbed two water bottles from the small fridge in your room, and left, making your way towards the convention center.

  You felt slightly better during photo-ops, which just confirmed in your mind that it was impossible that you were sick right now. You smiled and talked to everyone. There was one girl, who introduced herself as Meredith, who stuck out in your mind. She gave you this super cool hand painted keychain, which you very excitedly put on your keys instantly.

"Dude, I've been looking for a cool keychain. Not just one of those janky ones you find at like 7-11, like a cool one. This is so exciting." you smiled genuinely. You had just recently bought yourself a car, and thought that your keys looked a little lonely, and searched for hours on Etsy for something to spice it up a bit. A weird obsession, thinking about it now.

She laughed, "I'm glad you like it!"

"Hell, yeah! Now, are there any poses you wanna do? Or do you just want to hit that casual look? I could make it look like I'm meeting you." you stupidly rambled. One of your traits that was so widely known was how funny and awkward (in a good way) that you were. It took you a long time to get to that point, though, because you were always anxious about meeting others. You still are every now and then, but it's different here. 

"I was just hoping to get a hug." she said, "If that's okay with you." 

"Yeah, that's cool!" you wrapped your arms around each other and shot the camera a grin. The girl looked a bit confused. 

"Hey," she said, quietly, "are you like, okay? You feel really hot."

Nervously, you replied, "Oh, no, yeah totally fine. I'm just wearing two layers, and it's getting spicy in here."

"Yeah," she answered, "don't push yourself, okay?"

"I won't, thank you. It was really nice meeting you!" 

"You, too! Thanks!" she waved goodbye and you moved on to the last few people in line. She was right, though. You realized that you felt worse than you did when you walked in. You thought it had gone away for a while, but now it was just amplified. You noticed you were cold again, but that you were sweating as well. It must've just been the temperature in the room. These conventions aren't always able to keep a steady temp in the entire building, right?

This day, you didn't have much to do. Most of your events were on the other days to come. You had one panel in a few hours, and then a panel with Jared, Jensen, and Misha a few hours after that, and then bam, the day was over. You just had to get through those two events. Just two. 

Two, events. And both were an hour. So, two hours out of the day. Rookie work. Yet, as your panel approached, the headache had expanded from under your eyes to anywhere that there was space to hurt, your throat ached and so did your lungs from how much you were going off somewhere to cough in privacy, your body felt heavy, you couldn't tell if you were hot or cold at this point it was some weird combination of both, your stomach hurt just slightly, the world was moving around you a bit more than it usually would, and the fever you "didn't" have had climbed a degree, probably two. And, at some point during the day, you got pretty congested. You felt like you could just fall asleep at any moment. Jared and Jensen happened to be walking by where you had been waiting by yourself, away from any congoers or employees, and noticed that even though you were leaning against a wall, you somehow were still swaying.

"Y/N?" Jensen called out, worried. You heard him, you knew you were supposed to respond, but didn't know how. Maybe you did have a fever, and maybe you sort of let it out of control. It was like you were comprehending them, but not at the same time. You heard everything, but it just swept right through your feverish mind. The walked in front of you and examined you within seconds. You felt Jared's cold, really abnormally large man hand sweep your hair back and land on your forehead. 

"J, she's burning up." you felt another hand on your face. You, quite exhaustedly, swatted it away. They couldn't figure out how it'd gotten so bad so quickly. You were sick this morning, but not to this degree. They knew then that you had just shrugged it off all day, and your teenage fever brain probably didn't even think to take any kind of medicine or anything for it, even if you were trying to hide it.

"I'm good. Just tired. Fevers don’t exist." you finally mumbled, taking a few deep breathes, which you hadn't really been able to do in a bit without being rudely interrupted by a bone-shaking cough. It felt nice, almost. The boys sighed at you and shook their heads. 

"Y/N, you should go back to your room and get some rest. We can bring you some stuff that'll help." Jared suggested. You shook your head and opened your eyes, which somehow felt even heavier.

"Nah," you said to them, "I've got a panel, I think, in like, I ‘dunno, some minutes or something. Something I-" you pushed yourself off the wall to try and make your way somewhere, but stumbled a step or two, which result in Jensen and Jared instinctively to grab you in order to keep you steady.

"Like hell we're letting you go to that, Y/N, you can't even form a sentence, or stand for that matter. You're out of your mind. We're going to bring you back now, we'll take care of your panel thing." Jensen stated pretty sternly. You were about to fight back, and they could see it, but you coughed a few times, and they could almost feel it in their own chests. You just nodded in defeat.

"Yeah, maybe I could just like, sleep, for an hour or two." you whispered, tiredly. The two were still holding you steady, and could see you already falling asleep before even going anywhere. 

"Or six, by the looks of it." Jared joked lightly.

"Poor kid." Jensen said to Jared as the were walking out of your room. They helped you get there, and you were gone before you even saw the bed, "Why do they always have to pretend like they aren't sick? Look where it gets them."

"Don't know, man. You can't talk, though. You literally tell people you are immune to illness." Jared laughed quietly, shutting you door.

"Well I am. I am the perfect example of health. I don't get sick." 

"Yeah," Jared rolled his eyes, "Right. Watch you catch what Y/N has. You practically carried her all the way here. There's no way you're escaping it." Walking towards the center, the back way of course, Jensen scoffed, "Please, germs take one look at me and know not to mess this up. And, by the logic, that means you're already infected, too. So, tell me, princess, what sort of soup do you want spoon-fed?" 

Again, Jared rolled his eyes, and the two laughed. They weren't making fun of you, they were making fun of each other, and knew that you would've wanted in on that action.

"Y/N probably would've destroyed us if she heard that. Something along the longs of 'You want me to tuck you in? Carry you bridal style?'" Jared pitched his voice a tone higher for it. Again, the two men laughed.

They made their way backstage of what's supposed yo be your panel, and informed the crew about what was going on. They were just going to fill in for you, probably tell a few embarrassing stories.

When they made their way through the curtain, the crowd shouted. They were obviously excited to see the two leads, but also were obviously confused. "Alright, you're probably confused." Jensen stated the obvious, "Because obviously, we look nothing like Y/N, and thank God she does not look like us." The crowd laughed.

"Anyway, Y/N can't make it today. She's really sick-" the crowd cut Jared off with a unison "awe." People yelled out that they hoped she felt better, tell her to take care of herself, and so on.

"Yeah, poor kid looked like she was just going to fall asleep right where she was standing. She literally tried to come anyway, like, kid, you're making no sense. Y/N couldn't really fight against us, though, so she's sleeping now." Jensen explained, "So we came here to chat in her stead, but just know she really was planning on coming. That kid loves you guys." and again, the "awe" rolled through the crowd. 

"If she wasn't sick, she could totally kick both your-" the last word was cut off, but was implied anyway, someone screamed from the crowd, which resulted in laughter.

"Yeah, probably. Even if we were stronger than her," sarcastically, of course, "she'd still beat us. Kid's too fast, and I'm too old." Jared laughed.

In the last ten minutes of the panel, Jared decided to give you call. Not only to check in on you, but so you could at least say hi to your crowd. When you heard the phone ring, you groggily opened your eyes and aimlessly reached for it.

"Hello?" you answered. Jared almost frowned at how sick you sounded, even with just one word.

"Y/N?" Jensen stepped in, "It's Jensen."

"Unfortunate." you sighed exhaustedly. It was joke, a really tired one, but still enough to make the crowd laugh.

"We're here at your panel, we thought you might want to say hi." Jared said loudly, holding the speaker of his phone to the microphone. 

"Panel?" you asked. Panel? What panel? Your delirious mind was clearly confused, "Who's that?" 

"Y/N, the con. The convention panel?" Jensen actually sounded worried. They probably should've thought to give you some sort of medicine to do something about the fever you had before they'd left.

"Oh," you closed your eyes again, almost falling asleep, before remembering finally what it was they meant, and after a moment, "Oh! Crap, the panel thing, I'm late."

"No, Y/N, stay there, we've got it covered remember? You can't come. You can say hi to them, though." Jensen interjected quickly.

"Okay, hi guys." you just followed as told.

The crowd responded with a series of hello's. 

"'M really sorry. I hope they aren't boring you." the two men could practically hear you closing your eyes. The crowd responded in inaudible chatter. Jensen and Jared walked from the mic for a second.

"Sorry if we woke you, kid." Jared apologized, having just realized they probably could've left you alone, "W also just wanted to check in. See how you're doing."

"How are you feeling?" Jensen asked, but got a mumbled word in response, "Alright, well, just go back to sleep, we'll be up there soon." 

Jared hung up the phone, and the two began to answer the last few questions and close up. They waved their goodbyes to the crowd, and started heading back your way.

"Jensen, you got any over the counters with you? Thermometers or anything? All I've got is Advil, and I don't even know what's really bothering her yet other than that cough and being tired."

"Yup. Danneel always makes me carry literally an entire medicine cabinet, just for these moments. I'll go get 'em and meet you there. It'd probably do her some good to eat something, too. I don't know if she's got like, a stomach virus thing going on, though." Jensen answered.

"I'll see what she'll say and let you know." 

The two parted ways, and Jared made his way to you. Even though he'd only talked to you just a few minutes before, you were dead to the world by the time he opened the door. The room was boiling, and Jared looked over to the thermostat to see that you'd at some point put it on to 90 degrees. 

"Jesus, Y/N, I know you've got a fever, but damn." he said, more so to himself than to you. He looked over at you after turning it down to see you curled beneath what looked like any blanket you could find. He came over and started removing the blankets slowly, and shook you gently to wake you up.

"Y/N, wake up for a minute, it's Jared."

"'Mm." was all you said, until you realized your layers of warmth had been moved, "What're doing? It's cold."

"Y/N, you're dripping in sweat. It's the fever making you cold."

"I don't have a fever." you retorted, "I'm good. Just tired."

"Kid, you've been tired the whole day. You've been sleeping this whole time." he tried rationalizing.

"I have?" you questioned, closing you eyes again. Jared put his hand to your forehead again. Somehow, it was warmer than the first time he'd done it before the panel. It was then that Jensen finally appeared, a whole bag of things in hand, "Could you bring the thermometer over?"

"Yeah, gotcha." He walked over and rummaged through the bag at the same time, pulling out a thermometer.

"Y/N, we need to take your temperature." Jensen said.

"No need." you said, "'M not sick."

"You are so obviously sick, I'm not asking." again with that stern voice. Jared gave him a "Hey, she's sick, back off a little" sort of look, but it had worked, and you let them take your temp. They were almost shocked when the thing beeped at 103.

"Should we take her to a hospital? That's way too high." Jared asked. 

"If it gets any higher, yes, but let's see if we can bring it down first." Jensen replied.

"No hospitals." you demanded, opening your eyes and glaring at them. 

"We aren't bringing you yet, Y/N, but I need you to eat this so you can take some meds." he held out two pieces of toast that he must've brought from his room. You hated toast even when you weren't sick.

"I'm not really hungry." 

"I know, but it'll help. You haven't told us what's bothering you yet, either." Jared responded.

"Nothing's-" you coughed a few times, a bit violently, "bothering me." "We can see that." Jensen said sarcastically.

"Everything's bothering me." you whispered, giving up.

"Your stomach hurt?" Jensen asked. You waved your hand from side to side to signal a so-so, "Think you'll get sick at all?"

"No, it's not like that, I don't think." you breathed out, another cough escaping you. You took a few bites out of the toast. It made you uncomfortable, but it was then that you realized you probably felt that way since you really hadn't eaten much that day or the one before, which probably contributed to the splitting headache. It didn't go away after, either though. You pushed yourself up. You almost fell over, but Jared put a hand out for you.

"Alright, good. Take this. I'm going to be frank, it tastes disgusting." Jensen handed over a small cup of liquid, "Sometimes, if you take it like a shot, it helps. But you shouldn't know how to take shots, but if you do it, I won't judge." And so you did, causing the two to chuckle slightly at you. 

"You were right, about the sleep thing." you slumped back onto the bed heavily, like a brick.

"When am I ever wrong?" Jensen asked, "Don't answer that, actually."

But you were already sleeping again, and the boys decided to stay nearby for now. The next panel wasn't for another few hours anyway, and they just didn't want you to be alone. Also, incase you were wrong about the toast, and it decided to make its return. Jared's phone began to ring loudly, to which he very quickly tried to answer so his obnoxious ringtone wouldn't wake you up again, not that you wouldn't have just fallen back asleep anyway.

"Misha? Hey, what's up?" Jared answered. Jensen walked over to hear what was going on on the other side of the line, but Jared just decided to put it on speaker.

"Where are you guys? I haven't seen you all day. Felicia, Alex, and I are going out for lunch, we were wondering if you guys want to come. I tried calling Y/N, but she didn't answer, so." he rambled.

"That's because Y/N's not feeling well." Jensen said, giving him a solution to his predicament of not being answered, "We're with her right now, so we'll have to pass."

"She's sick? Is she okay?" 

"Yeah, I think so. She's just got this crazy fever we've been trying to bring down. Thinking about it now, Jensen, we should probably check it again." 

"A fever?"

"It's been at 103 degrees for like, two hours. At least for what we know of. She's probably had one all day, but as a dumb teenager does, she just tried to ignore it." 

"If it goes up you should-"

"Yeah, we know," Jared said, "we're trying really hard to avoid that, though. Also, she'll definitely fight against it, I don't know." 

Jensen, from the other side of the room at the sound of a beeping thermometer, could be heard on Misha's end, "It went down, finally. 102.2."

"Thank God, I was getting worried."

"Should I come there? Do you guys need any help?" Misha asked.

"I mean you can, but I think we're good. She's just been trying to sleep it off the whole time, so not much is really going on." Jensen was closer to the phone now, "Like, she's got this cough, a headache, and you can hear how congested she sounds, but mostly I think she's just exhausted. I honestly don't know how because she's just been sleeping for hours."

"Fatigue."

"Yeah, poor kid. I don't think I've ever seen her so tired, it almost makes me tired to be honest." Jensen joked.

"Maybe you're just getting sick." Jared slipped in.

"Not possible. I am immune."

"Nobody is immune, Jensen." Misha sighed.

"I'm not nobody." he shrugged. 

"Alright, well, we're going to get lunch then. If you need anything let me know, and tell her I hope she feels better." Misha concludes.

"We will, thanks Misha." and with that, Jared hung up. For a few more hours, the two hung around. They were there when you woke from some fever dreams, and when you needed a cough drop, or twelve, and wake you up every now and then to check your temperature, which raised and dropped and raised and dropped, but currently was at a very steady 102.4. But, soon enough, it was time for them to leave for the last panel of the day, and unsurprisingly, you tried to follow suit.

"Y/N, we gotta go, but we'll be back in about an hour from the panel." Jared said. You took a deep breath and sluggishly pushed yourself to the side of the bed. Having been sick, and not having sat up in a few hours, the blood rushed from your head, leaving you dizzy.

"What're you doing?" Jensen asked.

"The panel. I missed the last one I should go to this one. I feel okay." you yawned, then coughed slightly.

"Y/N, really, you shouldn't even think about pushing it like that." Jared said. Jensen walked over to you, half on the bed, clearly trying to steady yourself just from the movement of sitting up. The spinning room honestly almost made the toast make a reprise, and you hiccupped, and held your breath.

"Hey," Jensen grabbed a can quickly, noticing, "are you going to be sick?"

Giving it a minute, it went away, and you shook you head no, causing a huge tension to leave the room.

"Alright, well, remember how you said I was right all the time earlier?" Jensen pun the can down.

"No, must've been the fever." you half joked, causing Jared to laugh. 

"Alright- well- okay, shut up. We agreed I'm always right, and that I was right about needing sleep, so I say you need some more." Jensen demanded rather than suggested. 

"Yeah, or at least lay around and do nothing. I can't imagine ever sleeping as much as you just did." Jared joked, pushing you very gently back down, with his hand on your back, knowing you would just hit the bed without it. Your eyes were heavy again, and your throat was painfully dry, and you coughed. Your aching head also agreed with the two of them to your dismay.

"Maybe just a bit more." you mumbled, "A few minutes."

"Yeah a few minutes, sure." Jared smiled, knowing you were probably going to knock out for a few hours once again. You opened your eyes again.

"You think," you coughed, "that they'll be mad?

"Who?" Jensen asked.

Feeling pretty sick, you said, "That I don't go? I don’t feel really good."

Ah, the fever comes to play once again, it seems, but the two felt some sort of triumph now that you've at least admitted to being sick, even if it's been hours. It concerned them, though, if you felt bad enough to admit it.

"No, they'll be fine about it. We'll be back soon. Misha or Alex might come in to check on you, alright?" Jared answered, to which you nodded.

They weren't gone long. You spent half the next day sleeping, too, until you could stand without swaying. You did sneak back to the con, against Jensen and Jared's orders, since you really didn't break that fever and cough for a few more days, only to be caught after a tweet of you at the con was trending and the cast caught wind of it. But, eventually, you were better, and got the chance to help Jared take care of an "always immune" Jensen. And he was more stubborn than you were.

[washymylifeaway]

MatsuHana fanfic recs

HI LOVES :D MatsuHana is one of my FAVORITE ships and I always love reading their fics! I’m procrastinating my other wips rn, so that do be why this is coming out rn LOL. Also that ask really made me get onto writing this, so anon thank you for sending it in LOL. There are some with VERY sensitive topics and they’re very BOLD, but I hope you all are safe while going through this list <3 (also matsuhana leans more to lots of drinking, spicy smut scenes, and teenage boy humor (like d*ck jokes and sexual innuendos) and sometimes I don’t remember to warn for that, so again CAUTION)

As always, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for fics before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

CP:

plus one by orphan_account (G) 6.1k // this fic made me feel so warm and fuzzy inside LOL. It’s also hilarious and is definitely worth a read! When will I get to share a heart shaped bed with someone :( But I really love it when they just go with the flow of things, and other people are like,,, aren’t you already dating? BUT THEY’RE LIKE UMMM NO? HSAKJSH.

rated m for by orphan_account (T) 10.7k // I love this fic it made me laugh so much throughout the whole thing! The vibes in this fic are immaculate and give me life (we love a good reunion with mystery writers), it is SO good! That’s why you should never leave/stop listening prematurely (@ iwa when he was a single dad fic). 

This gets annoying fast, Makki by Ink_stained_quills (G) 2.3k // IM IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC PLS I COULD NOT STOP CRYING TEARS OF LAUGHTER. This AU needs more fics PLEASE. It was SO freakin’ funny and the other teams KILLED ME. Like how they all approached the problem differently and how some of them (KUROO) asked for help LOL. Please this is so freaking funny go read it.

quidditch gloves, parchment, and custard cream by h_lovely (T) 12.4k // THIS IS SO GOOD, I love this fic. It really takes you through the emotions, and I love all the development in it!!!! Their relationship with one another (but only as homies right? ofc ofc), and even their families loving the other, this fic is so good! Read it even if you don’t like slow burn, you won’t even notice <3333

call me maybe by totooru (T) 33.6k // okay yea another (semi) chat fic,,, fight me. MatsuHana are just funny in general but throw some other characters (like Kuroo) into it and it turns into a comedy show. But the main point of this fic was like the near miss meetings and I think that the misunderstanding were hilarious (as much as I hate misunderstandings LOL).

Magical Mishaps and How to Deal by plumtrees (M) 10.9k // I lost this fic once and I searched for it FOR THE LONGEST TIME. But that’s cause I wanted to reread this masterpiece. IT’S SO FUNNY AND CUTE AND DOMESTIC AND UGH. Also the small angst made me SO SAD. But the ENDING? THE KISSES AHHHHHHH. (I’m yelling a lot BUT that’s cause I really love this fic <3333)

hang out fall in love by carafin (T) 8.6k // I love the Makki hates Mattsun initially but then falls for the irresistible charm he posses trope. It might be my favorite trope for MatsuHana specifically LOL. Like I really love this fic and it has MAGIC. It’s like a magical version of the VA one LOL. But like no radio shows or reunited best friends in this one :(

THESE ARE VERY ANGST!!!!!!!

boiled frogs by reginagalaxia (E) 91.5k // is it possible to hate a character this much? I never realized how much hate/rage I had in me. Really. Like. Imma boutta fight this MF LIKE SQUARE UP. The way I tried to manifest a fake characters death like,,,, Anyway. If my RAGE doesn’t explain how good of a freakin writer they are, then idk what will. PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS, THERE ARE VERY SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!

Even Though it All Went Wrong by plumtrees (T) 9.2k // THIS IS THE REASON THIS POST CAME TO BE. I love this fic with all my heart (or what’s left of it). Like LOVE as in, this fic really broke me beyond just breaking me. Like. When Oikawa says what he says to Mattsun after the thing (you’re sorry __ _____ __ ____) and the Iwa right after (we know __’__ ___ ______ to make you ____ __ ____) (if you’re wondering wtf I’m putting here, just ctrl F you’re sorry and you’ll see), you cannot believe how hard that hit. GOD. (I am okay if you’re wondering :’)) This is my #1 favorite angst fic of all time and if you are okay mentally and have read the tags and warnings and are fine with them, then please read it. PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS, THERE ARE VERY SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!

The Truth Comes Out by Your_Friendly_Neighborhood_Pigeon (T) 10.2k // this made me so sad and empty after I read it. Like I just sat there being like wtf did I just read I’m sad now. Again read the tags, there is a suicide attempt but there’s also some cheating in this one. This one also ends happy. PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS, THERE ARE VERY SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!

New:

kiyala // this writer has a LOT of fluffy MatsuHana and I really love their works! It’s just all (for the most part) really cute and there’s a lotta blurred lines and boundaries that get cleared up (they define what their relationship is but with ~love~) in their fics :) My fav? Making Sense by kiyala (T) 1.5k // it’s very cute and I am one who loves when things just fall into place :D

tookumade // this writer has some of MY FAVORITE MatsuHana fics in it and I’m kinda really sad I don’t get to ramble on about them here :( (dw I will elsewhere LOL) If I had to choose, I would say Remind Me by tookumade (T) 28.6k and Zenith, Nadir by tookumade (T) 10.7k were my absolute favorites, but I cannot choose between them so don’t make me.

plumtrees // I LOVE THIS WRITER OMG. Again, someone who has written my all time FAVORITE fics (did I mention OF ALL TIME?) and I’ve obsessively read some of them too many times :’) Because I already recommended my other faves above, Captured Light by plumtrees (T) 3.5k will be my acting favorite rn. It’s really cute and depicts some really sweet moments between MatsuHana too!

h_lovely // this writer has SO MANY GOOD FICS! I really love their series and their getting together fics are all SO GOOD UGH. I recommended my favorite teen one above, but the other ones I loved are explicit so just check out this writer in general LOL. (I REALLY love mirror flower, water moon, it’s my favorite but it’s E cause some smexy scene happen, but it’s really SO good omfg. Also the roses series IS AMAZING as well!!!!)

cream puffs and carnations; by crossbelladonna (series) 11.6k // AU SERIES!!! I love the AU’s in this series and I really liked the prompts they chose for this MatsuHana week :D My favorite from this series might’ve been there he is again by crossbelladonna (T) 1.6k cause a) I love the mattsun hc in this (for his appearance) and b) IT’S CUTE :D I definitely related to Makki and his not very subtle crushing, and also I like the IwaOi + Makki as friends trope (and then they meet Mattsun), if you couldn’t tell yet LOL.

on the anatomy of crushes by carafin (T) 2.3k // (kinda cp but not LOL) it’s very short and cute and I love it a lot LOL. I love medical AU’s (even though it’s very back burner LOL), but also, like Mattsun saves the day is the move. Like the dedication he has even going on the bus? Especially for a guy? Amazing. I could never :’)

Parallel Lines by orphan_account (T) 16.3k // IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC LIVES IN MY MIND RENT FREE CONSTANTLY. I hate math. Just putting that out here. And while it’s a math fic, IT? IS? SO? GOOD???? And like I love it when characters are smart, like I love intelligent characters so like this was just ajndf. (also same Mattsun, I am allergic to normal math.) 

live it up, drink it in by punybastard (T) 2.1k // GAH this one! This is a pretty iconic fic in MatsuHana hell (in my personal opinion) and if I didn’t have that two fic limit on my staple fics, this would be there. I really loved the ending of it (v cute and v well done), but also the small side stories that were inserted made it all the more entertaining :D (aka the volleyball) But they are drinking underage, so if you’re not about that BE WARNED.

it's cold out here by bishounen_curious (M) 8.6k // PLEASE I LOVE THIS FIC. YES READ YESYESYES READ. OKAY FIRST check tags and warnings, there’s a lot going on in this fic. Like don’t be stupid like them, drinking underage, and don’t do drugs not a good idea very very bad. Aside from that, I am in love with sad sad sad Makki (along with stupid IwaOi) and him being a sad drunk made me ajhkjdfs. Just read it and feel the akfnakjs with me LMFAO.

poolside by tothemoon (T) 4.1k // I’m starting this out with I LOVE the ending and I REALLY LOVE the way this confession panned out. It’s such a great concept and it made me ajhfldshf inside!!! Also, recursive endings are some of my favorites (if you couldn’t already tell LOL), and I think it really makes something so nostalgic and adds depth to a fic.

The Courage of Stars by FairyLights101 (T) 7.1k // AHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS FIC YES!!!! OKAY TW CANCER THERE’S CANCER IN THIS NO DEATH JUST PAIN and chemo (which basically is pain). Some controversy, but the angst part of me wanted him to die DONT GET ME WRONG, I’m glad he lived, but like imagine. I really love this fic, and his efforts in the bucket list were admirable :’)

we could be the greatest team by anyadisee (T) 5.7k // it’s my crack fic :D Yes, this is just Seijoh messing around, boys being boys, relationships being compared with other relationships. No pining, just me with my established relationships (and Iwa fanclubs cause those are a thing. ALWAYS).

Wet Your Whistle by darkmagicalgirl (E) 5.4k // SMUT ALERT okay but like while it’s a major plot point (lmfao I can’t believe myself), the storyline itself is good. Also, I’m all here for bartender Makki and tattoo Makki and not subtle at all Makki and basically everything Makki. I like banter and stupidity okay?

[obnoxious clucking noises] by parenthetic (renaissance) (T) 3.4k // some more crack fic for you <3333 Literally, just idiots being idiots. That’s the fic. LMFAO but seriously, I would like to participate as well,,,,, I have yet to lose a game of gay chicken cause of my lack of fear akdjaslk.

that's what you get (for waking up in vegas) by skittidyne (T) 4.2k // THIS IS SO FUNNY. I love Elvis cause he’s always officiating marriages in my fics LMFAO. But also IwaOi in this added some real nice comedy, and overall another crack fic but I really liked this one (AGAIN LMFAO).

A Bouquet of Flours by guyfierimpreg (G) 5.2k // first I want to know how they got the flour to scream, I just can’t figure it out so if anyone would like to send me pictures that’d be great. Second, they would do this bs and this is all canon. I said what I said, and I don’t take criticism. Like, matsuhana best parents proven by the magical mishaps fic (LMAO).

texting (with a capital S) by parenthetic (renaissance) (M) 2.1k // okay I just wanted to say that the accuracy in the math stuff being mentioned makes me feel like this writer was in calc ab or something and that’s trauma right there. Anyways, it’s a texting fic kinda sorta getting together kinda sorta not? Idk how to explain it, but it was funny and then smut LMFOAJIAHFSJS (the derail was just like IwaOi in gay chicken, someone call the police LMFAO).

nebulas by tothemoon (T) 10.8k // I like the casualness of it. Like the confession was just so casual (smooth Mattsun) and like the progression was GOOD. Like, it’s a very poetic fic and there’s lots of thinking of deeper meaning, but its still got some comedy sprinkled throughout. I really loved the flow of it!!!!

my heart beats for contract law by orphan_account (T) 4.4k // I too would have a breakdown over school (me pretending like I haven’t already done that ahaha), but I really love so many things about this fic! Everything was just so ajsdfljdsn and I really love the 3 part plan Mattsun comes up with :DDDD (esp pt 3). Also, to propose while having an emotional breakdown at 3am in a McDonalds drive through. A mf dream.

Reflex by hiuythn (T) 2.3k // PLEASE IF THEY DIDN’T MEET AT HS THIS WOULD BE CANON ASF. You cannot tell me you don’t think this would not be cannon asf. They would meet like this. Also poor Teuchi stuck in the middle of all of this. I haven’t watched naruto, but it doesn’t really matter. What matters is random emotional sexual bonding over something. That is important. (THE ENDING AJKFHKJ)

You're in Pink (and I'm in blue) by Hyeyu (T) 4.4k // whooooo Hanahaki whooo anyway, despite how it seems, I like the hanahaki trope. I don’t fully understand it sometimes (most of the time tbh), but it adds some nice angst and desperate confessions, and I do appreciate those :D Honestly, I really liked the way this fic panned out, and I felt really bad for Iwa LOL.

stranger things by tinypersonhotel (G) 10.2k // I really like this one :D:D:D I love Makki + Oikawa friendship and they’re really the best to each other :’) The ending was satisfying, and the PLOT omg. It was SO good. I feel like I say this a lot though LOL, but I’m just really into fics with good plot progression (or else I don’t read them OOPS).

something of a disaster by latenights (T) 1.4k // chaos ahahhaha. Another crack fic? I hope no one is surprised LOL. It’s just a really short and simple, cute getting together fic with a LOT of insults LOL. I love this one in particular, “Tooru’s dinner special”.

snakes, meth labs and something like love by orphan_account (G) 3.6k // THE ROOMMATE AD PLEASE. I honestly would never think Oikawa would get a snake, but that doesn’t matter LOL. This was me indulging myself in the makki IwaOi best friends and mattsun stranger agenda but it’s a great agenda okay? It’s a good fic and there’s a microwaved fish :D

Lemonade by carriecmoney (T) 4.1k // okay once again, responsible drinking and don’t drink underage bad idea smh. But MatsuHana just making out where they want? I could see that. Yeah. Anyway, as much as public make out seshes make me *gag* feel embarrassed, what made me feel more *gag* embarrassed was the fact that the girls? just? stood? there? Like why are you watching this. Is that just me? I feel like they should’ve left smh.

surprise, surprise by airblends (T) 7.6k // some more pining and dancing around the issue whoooo. As much as I hate them not getting to the point (almost as much as I hate misunderstandings), it was a great fic. This is nosebleed c*ck block (idk if I needed to censor that but I did fight me).

A God for Every Season by timkons (T) 18.4k // I love the Hades and Persephone trope! Okay, I just love mythology leave me be, but anyway I really love a lot of this fic. Like how Mattsun thinks it’s a little brighter with Makki? CUTE I LOVE. But also, the fish funeral is ridiculous but also very on brand for Oikawa. And some BokuKuroo (idk is that their ship) in here as well :DDD

The Best/Worst Places to Cry in the City by AngryKitten (T) 4.4k // literally it is the title. Just you know, looking for the best place to cry in the city,,,, I’d like to say, don’t cat call people cause we’re not about that here. Even if it worked out for them, just don’t do it :/ Also don’t follow strangers. I feel like that’s a given but jic ya know?

this isn't exactly how i thought i'd be spending my adult years by jadedpearl (NR) 7.5k // okay petty Makki is yes and so is my Makki + IwaOi agenda LOL. (I’m thriving here can’t you tell? Yes regular skype/phone calls constantly) Anyway, blackouts and sickness really be here getting people together. (I’m asking nicely, nike.) And Makki is smooth with his words. (SHORTER MEN MADE ME LAUGH)

chocolate by tellalie (T) 3.6k // the dedication in this fic was amazing. Like making a whole a cake? Someone go do that for me. (For mankind.) Fake dating is really something else, but fake dating to out gag your best friends? Seems like I need to step up my game (but no seriously, my best friends are PDA monsters I hate it here). Also practice confessions are wack.

FINALLY I MADE IT. You don’t know how many times I almost gave up on finishing LMFAO. Is this my longest list? Idk. But I just know that I would’ve finished faster if I didn’t end up rereading almost every fic on this list LMFAO. Like no seriously I almost had to make a post saying this wouldn’t be coming out cause I got distracted by one of the longer fics (I’m blaming Mirror Flower, Water Moon specifically). But I hope you enjoyed this, and once again go thank that anon for spurring me into finishing this list LMFAO (am I a horse? Yea, probably but if one thing, I’m not sturdy).

[destefaniart]

SBI rise of the guardians au

Tw: child neglect maybe (?) And death implied

(?)

So, Tommy is an spirit that is utterly alone without memories after man in the moon (dream xd) tells him his name.

He is a really loud child, only 16 y/o he tried calling for attention shyly at first, getting to know Wilbur, who is the guardian of the creativity here (?) I'm still placing it out. They have a really good relationship, Wilbur is the only person he knows who is able to see him, they got really close for several years, but after an accident he and Tommy have a really hard discussion and end up appart.

They really miss each other, but they're both really stubborn and won't admit it, but will knows how alone Tommy is and tries to find him, however, Tommy always runs away, and they never make up about what happened, leaving will guilty worried and really upset.

Techno has Sandman's place, but his personality is just stoic, quiet, and calm . he can hear the whispers of the nightmares and the fearlings just as he is capable of hearing moonbeams and dreams, he has trouble at controlling himself since he was once infected by the fearlings, but Phil and Dream XD were capable of maintain him safe and himself for most times.

Some nights techno may be consumed by the dark whispers, and nightmares spread a lot, but he has enough control to either manage to come back to normal by himself or being able to call philza.

Philza is a really protective dadza here. He has spent thousand of years with his kids, (in this au, they grow up as spirits, but it's a reaaaaly slow process)

Both, Will and Techno were found by him, and after a lot of time, dream XD saw the potential they had and he choose them to be guardians.

Dream is Pitch, he was a captain, once loyal to Dream XD, his brother, he hunted down the fearlings and nightmares, and he offered himself to prevent them from going out.

But after some years, the constant whispers of the fearlings begun to affect him, they started to scream with voices from his loved ones, the screams from Drista, Dream XD and George finally made him open the cage and the fearlings consumed him and tainted his person, ultimately changing and corrupting him

After Dream appears at Phil's, he calls his sons, the guardians, to try to stop him, but without clues, they ask Dream XD

Who tells them to find Tommy.

They are reluctant at first, they have never brought a guardian like this, without knowing or training them before the announcement.

Whoever, Will is who is the most upset about it, since he thinks Tommy won't even want to have any contact with him.

However they found him and he refused his guardian title at first

Later dream treathems them and the kids they protect.

Tommy by the other hand has his memories stolen by dream just as all the other kids, so he decides to tag along

Dream gets interested on Tommy and he tries to make him be on his side (...)

And that's what I got from know, just the skeleton of a possible idea, but please, if you feel up to, write/draw/do whatever you want with this! Just Tell me so I can enjoy new content pls :D

The history follows mostly the same storyline as in rise in the guardians but since i'm still placing all out it might change...

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (21) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

a/n: omg i’m emotional. guys, welcome to the last chapter of n19f. this fic has been the absolute best fun to write and i truly love these girls and the journey they’ve been on so much. big big huge thanks and love to every single person that’s ever left a note, hit reblog or left me lovely anons, DMs, comments or tags, they’ve all meant the absolute world to me and i love u so much. obviously i can’t let things go, so keep an eye out for some form of sequel coming in the next few months or so (patience is a virtue xo). for one last time…….let’s go, lesbians!!!!!!!

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

tw: bit of weed in this one. no zoos, dw xo

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: the girls all went to the beach, Scarlet and Yvie made plans for after uni, and Scarlet got the degree classification she so desperately wanted.

this chapter: it’s Brooke’s graduation day.

***

Brooke looked around at the chaos that was their kitchen. The kitchen utensils (which were all Nina’s that she and Yvie had shamelessly used as if they were their own over the 2 years they’d lived together) were wrapped up in bubble wrap and packed neatly into cardboard boxes which sat on top of the dining table. Yvie’s kitchenware- a blue bowl with a chip out of it, a huge white plate, a Tigger mug, and a mismatched fork, knife and spoon- had been inelegantly packed into an orange Sainsbury’s bag and left on the counter. Brooke had already packed up her own belongings and had moved them into a corner of her room so they wouldn’t take up space in the already-tiny kitchen. All their store cupboard food was in the process of being packed up for the foodbank, which was inevitably going to be flooded with the discarded super noodles, tinned soups and flavoured teas of the migrating tenants of student flats.

Yvie let out a snort from her position in front of their food cupboards, and Brooke’s heart gave a twinge at seeing them so empty. Top shelf had been hers: pasta, rice, stock cubes, and emergency maple syrup tin. The middle shelf was Nina’s: loaf of white bread, tins of tuna, ryvita, breadsticks, crisps. And Yvie’s food had occupied the bottom shelf: chocolate digestives, Ainsely Harriott cous cous, peanut butter, and sour patch kids. All gone. Except, Brooke noticed, for a jar of Marmite which had sat on the middle shelf and that Yvie was holding in her hand.

“Whose was the Marmite?” she asked, an amused tone to her voice. Nina shrugged from her position on the sofa.

“I’ve never once eaten Marmite.”

“It’s on your shelf, girl,” Yvie shrugged, her eyebrows questioning. Nina gave another shrug.

“I know. It’s always lived there. I swear to God it just turned up one day and I left it there. Thought it was one of yours because Christ knows you’re both too lazy to put it on your own damn shelves,” Nina reprimanded them both. Brooke laughed.

“You know you’re going to regret being so mean to us when you don’t live with us any more and we’re adults and it takes 9 months to clear our schedules for one singular coffee,” she raised her eyebrows at her flatmate as Nina pouted and let out a groan, held out her arms for a hug which Brooke fell into.

“Don’t! This is already too heartbreaking, I can’t believe we only have two days left here.”

“I can’t believe we’re actually organised with this moving out process.”

“I can’t believe we have a phantom jar of Marmite that nobody’s claiming,” Yvie piped up, peering at the jar with interest. “Brooke, you like this shit, right?”

“Marmite is Satan’s black fecal matter and I’m offended you think I eat it,” she deadpanned, shifting to get comfy in Nina’s lap whilst attempting to be as inconvenient as possible to her friend.

“Get the hell off me. Only my girlfriend is allowed to sit on me for so long that I lose feeling in my legs,” Nina huffed, shoving at Brooke until she relented and sat beside her. It didn’t stop her from putting her cold feet on her bare thigh though, and Nina hissed and jumped away. “I take it all back. I’m not going to miss either of you idiots at all.”

“You’re a crap liar,” Yvie smiled smugly, binning the Marmite and joining the two girls on the sofa, squeezing in between them both. “Awh, guys…it’s the end of an era.”

Brooke suddenly felt tears prick at her eyes out of nowhere. “Shut up. We’ve still got tomorrow and the next day.”

“Yeah, but tomorrow you’re gonna be doing graduation-y shit and then it’s moving day!” Nina protested. Her voice grew small, dropping to a murmur. “It’s kind of like it’s our last day.”

The girls fell silent. Yvie let out a huge puff of air from her lungs. “Don’t tell anyone I said this but I’m gonna miss you girls so fucking much.”

“Awh, Yves. I’ll miss you too,” Nina sighed, burying her face into Yvie’s shoulder and curling her arms around one of Yvie’s. “But this is good! Change is good, even if it’s scary and different. And you’re gonna be living with Scarlet! That’s exciting!”

“How’s the flat hunting going?” Brooke asked Yvie, who had a little smile on her face. Brooke didn’t know if Yvie knew that she always began to smile a little whenever Scarlet was mentioned. She wasn’t going to mention it to her. She would maybe mention it to Scarlet.

“Like I’d rather shit in my hands and clap,” Yvie groaned, running her hands down her face. “It’ll be fine, though. We’ve got a while. Her lease isn’t up until August so we’ve got a few weeks to keep looking and in the meantime I’ll just stay with her in that Dickensian death trap she calls a flat.”

The girls let out a laugh, Brooke resting her head on Yvie’s shoulder too. There was a small silence.

“At least you and Monet are sorted,” Yvie spoke again, Nina nodding in agreement. Buoyed by how well Yvie’s suggestion to Scarlet had been received, Nina had been determined not to fuck up another relationship milestone with Monet and had asked her to move in with her as well. The answer had been an emphatic yes, and the pair of them had used their terrifying teacher-levels of organisation skills to find a cute two-bed flat in a nicer, only slightly more expensive part of the city. They both knew their relationship was still new and fragile, so they’d agreed a room each was a good idea to give them their space when they each needed to work or wanted a bit of time on their own to simply do nothing. Brooke knew the two girls were joined at the hip though so they probably didn’t need that sort of contingency plan, but it was a sensible decision nonetheless.

“I can’t wait to get the keys and just vomit up a bunch of fairy lights and candles in every possible room,” she beamed, excitement radiating out of every pore. “It’s going to be so fun- we’re going to take turns cooking, and build pillow forts, and blast our songs on a Sunday morning and clean the whole place-”

“Fuck. Adulthood’s fully got you. Brooke, quick, if we run we can still save ourselves,” Yvie deadpanned, Nina giving her a whack as Brooke laughed.

“I personally can’t wait to go round and visit at every available opportunity. I’m going to move in,” Brooke smiled, and Nina gave another sad kicked-puppy pout.

“I wish. Canada is so far away,” she sighed, a little knife going through Brooke’s heart at the thought of moving back. She didn’t want to think about it, but it was just inevitable. It was happening, and it was fact. She was going back to Canada. She didn’t really know what she was doing, she hadn’t found herself a flat, and she didn’t have a job to earn money and pay the rent with even if she had, so she was flying home.

She really didn’t want to think about leaving. She didn’t want to think about leaving the city, constantly busy with tourists and families and drunk students and Very Important Working Adults. She didn’t want to think about leaving the park, with the cherry blossom trees that lined every path and fond memories of barbecues and picnics and drinking in the sun with the girls. She didn’t want to think about leaving uni- because as stressful as all hell her degree had been, she’d loved studying fashion design, loved making prototypes, loved learning about something she loved, even though her degree was fuck all use to her trying to get an actual job. She didn’t want to think about leaving the flat: the shower with its drippy head, the hob with the one gas burner that didn’t work, the carpet in her room with the incongruous red faded stain, the fucking Sports Direct mug. The girls that she loved so much her heart felt sore if she thought too much about it: Nina singing obnoxiously early as she got ready for placement, Yvie making the kitchen into a war zone trying new recipes, the ridiculous squabbles they got into about the washing up, pre-pre-drinks where they shared a bottle of pink Gordon’s and splashed mixers into their mismatched glasses and sang along to Ariana Grande at the top of their lungs.

Tears stung at her eyes again, and she swallowed the big lump in her throat to shoo them away. It was too late though, as Nina had seen her glassy eyes and reached over to hug her. Her own voice was thick with tears as she spoke.

“Oh, girls,” she let out a shaky breath, Brooke giving up the fight as she felt her own tears drop down onto her hoodie. “Change is good…but it’s shit.”

“Fuck you both, I’m not crying,” Yvie said, her breathing all shuddery and letting them both know that was a lie. The girls all sat and held each other as they wept quietly, mourning the death of their student careers and this life they’d lived for three years that they’d all too often taken for granted.

Brooke was the first to dry her tears, giving one decisive sniff and sweeping under both her eyes with determination. “Right. I’m putting a stop to this, we’re not spending our kind-of last night in the flat sitting crying like a bunch of babies. We’re going to order food, get high as St Peter’s balls and watch shitty game shows that make us yell at the TV. Okay?”

She was happy that Yvie and Nina both snorted a weepy laugh and nodded at her. “Okay.”

And the three girls did just what Brooke had suggested. There was, however, bickering about where they should order from. Yvie wanted sushi from the tiny little place tucked away in a back street that did bento boxes with prawn katsu and salmon maki which were like little rice parcels of heaven. Nina wanted Chinese from their favourite takeaway that delivered from out in the suburbs and where, for about fifteen points all in, you could get a banquet of sweet and sour chicken in sticky red sauce, crispy golden salt and chilli chips with huge red jewels of chilli and slices of garlic, chicken fried rice in a rich Cantonese gravy which bound everything together and chow mein with soft spring onion slices and huge chunks of onions all tossed in soy sauce. Brooke’s selection won in the end though as her argument was the strongest- “I might not taste any of this again, Canada is a long fucking journey, okay?!”- so they ordered burritos and chips and salsa from the incredibly-overpriced-but-worth-it burrito bar on campus. They finished the last of the weed that had been wrapped in tin foil and cling film and shoved to the back of the broom cupboard along with the bong, and they made horrifying cocktails from the dregs of their leftover spirits and mixers. The burritos arrived and they stuck Challenge TV on and shouted at the Catchphrase contestants who couldn’t get the most obvious fucking catchphrases Brooke had ever seen in her life.

The evening was perfect.

They talked about Brooke’s graduation tomorrow, Nina and Yvie both saying how proud they were of her. Brooke was glad she had the girls, since her Mum’s flight over to see her graduate had been cancelled because of freak winds back in Canada. Brooke had already cried to her over facetime about it, but Yvie had managed to find the link to the livestream that was only meant to be shown on campus, and she’d sent Brooke’s Mum the link so Brooke knew she would be watching even if she couldn’t properly be there. As soon as they’d heard the news, the girls had all agreed on the group chat to set up camp in the union and watch the livestream (as Brooke and Plastique would be graduating at the same ceremony) and then take photos with them both afterwards outside the great hall as if they were a gaggle of proud Mums. Even though it wouldn’t be what she’d planned, Brooke was still looking forward to it.

It was around midnight before Brooke took herself off to bed, and just as she got cosy underneath the duvet her phone lit up with a notification. She couldn’t help the smile that involuntarily shot to her face when she realised it was Vanessa.

V: hey what’s ya fav Kanye West album mine is GRADUATION!!!!!!! How you feelin about tomorrow boo? xxxxxx

Brooke let out a laugh, muffling it too late with her hand when it came out louder than expected. Christ, she loved the girl so much.

B: Kanye West is a misogynist pig and i won’t stand for him xxxxxx

B: Stronger is a bop though xxxxxx

V: You got that one right xxxxxx

B: And I’m good! Big jumble of feelings. Big happy/sad vibes xxxxxx

V: I know it’s bittersweet af xxxxxx

V: Me n Scar just held each other and cried once the ceremony was over xxxxxx

Vanessa and Scarlet had graduated last week, as had their other friends. Brooke and Plastique’s graduation date was the latest and so they were graduating last. She didn’t mind that, though. The longer she could stay being a student the better.

B: Lol we just had a big cry as a full flat xxxxxx

V: Don’t lmao idk what we gonna be like when our lease is up xxxxxx

Brooke scrolled up and looked at all the texts they’d exchanged from the past two months, the same signature of six kisses at the end of them all. They hadn’t really spoken about where they were relationship-wise since the night in the library. Maybe Vanessa didn’t want to. Maybe it was for the best. Brooke’s heart hurt as she realised she was going to be on the other side of the world in a matter of days, and maybe Vanessa didn’t want to see her ever again. She frowned at her own thoughts before tears had a chance to start welling in her eyes again. It had been good to truly get back to where she’d been before with Vanessa- just texting random garbage, having deep chats about the future, being ever-so-slightly flirty with each other. She thought about confronting the issue head on over text, but it wasn’t the medium through which to have that kind of conversation.

As if Vanessa could read her mind, however, another text came through.

V: When do you fly back again? 20th? xxxxxx

Brooke’s heart felt sore.

B: 12th xxxxxx

V: oh right

Brooke’s pulse froze at the lack of kisses. Her fingers ghosted over her screen, trying to figure out what to type. Vanessa sorted the problem for her.

V: fuck I wish you weren’t leaving xxxxxx

Brooke’s heart swelled up then popped. Was this the time? No. But their time was running out, she knew that much. Maybe she could see her before she left. She’d see her after her graduation anyway.

B: I wish I wasn’t either xxxxxx

B: But you’re coming tomorrow yeah? Xxxxxx

V: Wouldn’t miss it for the world baby xxxxxx

Fuck, she would miss her so much. She’d already told Vanessa how much she meant to her, just how fucking incredible she was in every way, and yet Brooke felt like doing it again.

She didn’t, because it would be too weird. But she wanted to more than anything.

V: You gonna look so beautiful and clever tomorrow I just know it xxxxxx

Brooke smiled to herself, blushing on her own at the compliment. Vanessa seemed to be firing risky texts to her left right and centre, so Brooke took a risk of her own.

B: Not as beautiful as you xxxxxx

She almost threw her phone away once she’d sent it. A reply came back almost instantly.

V: Stop with the lies xxxxxx

She was leaving in two days so she sent another risky one, caution truly pissed into the wind.

B: You’re honestly the most beautiful girl in the world xxxxxx

At that point Brooke put her phone face down on her bedside table and decided to sleep, her heart full of butterflies and her thoughts filled with the ridiculously massive crush she had on the girl she’d been idiotic enough to let go the first time.

When Brooke woke up, her phone was blowing up with messages. The one she checked first was from Vanessa in reply to the one she’d sent last night, and was simply a series of heart eye emojis. The next one she opened was a text from her Mum, paragraphs of pride and love for her daughter that made Brooke want to cry already. The others were all from the chat- Silky, Akeria, Vanessa, Scarlet, Yvie and Nina all spamming it with messages of luck and love for her and Plastique, and promising they’d be watching the screen and waiting outside for them when the ceremony was done.

Brooke got ready in a dream-like haze. She took her smart black tailored dress out of the cupboard where it had been hanging for the past month, the garment more ready for graduating than she was. She showered then dried her hair, curling it and brushing out so it made waves down her back. She put on her makeup- browns and nudes with only the tiniest bit of highlight. When she stepped into her dress and heels and looked at herself in front of the mirror, she hardly recognised herself.

She looked like an adult. A woman with her life stretching out in front of her, ready to be whatever she made of it.

Brooke phoned a taxi- it was raining just a little, even though it was already July- and pulled on a smart black coat when she saw it pull up outside, dashing carefully down the steps of the stairwell and out into the new day.

Graduation wasn’t til 11, but Brooke had arranged to meet up with Plastique beforehand anyway, just so they could be excited together. When Brooke pulled up at the taxi rank outside the square and the huge ceremony hall, she could see Plastique and her Mum there already, standing bickering amongst the growing gaggle of students and families. The sight only hurt Brooke a bit, until she remembered the girls would all be watching, and her Mum would be watching too no matter how far away. It would, after all, be about one and a half hours of waiting for Brooke to walk across the stage, take a scroll and shake a hand, and then it would all be over.

It was scary to think that that was all that was separating her and the adult world.

Trying not to get too deep and to instead just enjoy the day, Brooke excitedly paid the driver and dashed out of the taxi, Plastique spotting her running towards her and giving an excited squeal. She opened her arms out for a hug which Brooke crashed into.

“Bitch! How are you!” Plastique cried, Brooke only squeezing her tightly in response. “I’m so excited! And sad. And excited! And emotional.”

“Yeah, I can tell!” Brooke teased, Plastique laughing as she stepped out of the hug and gestured to her Mum, dressed very glamorously in a blue dress, blue heels and a pink fascinator. The occasion didn’t really call for it but Plastique’s Mum was always one to embrace the potential glamour in every situation, and so she had gone all out.

“You’ve met my Mum, right?” Plastique smiled. Brooke nodded and waved her a hello. She’d met her once at their second year showcase, the woman keeping her in stitches with her hilarious stories.

“I have! Nice to see you again, Alyssa.”

Alyssa, throwing formalities out of the window, instead pulled Brooke into a crushing hug. “And you too, my angel! Awh, Lord, ‘Tique told me all about your Mama’s flight. My heart is absolutely breakin’ for you, honey. I would’ve sent a plane over for her but nobody’s flying out of there come hell or high water.”

Brooke suppressed a laugh, finding it unbelievable that “I’ll just get her a plane” was on Alyssa’s list of options. “It’s okay Alyssa. Thank you, though. She’s going to watch the live stream, Yvie hooked her up with a link.”

“Well I’ll be your Mama just for today, girl. I am so proud of you both!” Alyssa cried, putting both her hands on Plastique’s shoulders and sighing. “Look at my intelligent daughter, out here gettin’ degrees and lookin’ so beautiful at the same time.”

Plastique smiled at her Mum lovingly, the two of them sharing one last hug before she and Brooke took themselves off to pick up their robes. It was surreal actually wearing the gown, all billowing and black, and helping each other fix their hoods, light blue with fringes of pink. They went to get their graduation photos taken, Brooke surprised that they were given a prop degree to hold as she’d always thought it was her actual degree she’d be holding. She laughed as Plastique moaned to her about not being able to see the photo until it got mailed to her, and the fact that her Mum ordered about twenty four copies so even if it was horrible she wouldn’t ever be able to escape it. Alyssa texted Plastique to tell her she’d gone into the hall to get a good seat, so her and Brooke decided to just go and sit ready anyway. They had to say goodbye to each other briefly until the end of the ceremony, as everyone had to sit in alphabetical order. As she waited for the ceremony to begin, Brooke scanned the huge crowds all seated in the hall’s three tiered levels. Her eyes fell on each empty seat and her heart broke a little more each time she saw one.

Nobody she truly loved would see her graduate in person. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t absolutely gutted. But at least she had Plastique, and of course, Alyssa.

Before she knew it, the ceremony had begun. She tried to pay attention to the Dean’s address and the chamber choir singing in Latin but she couldn’t help feeling like a 16-year-old in her school assembly, bored and just full of anticipation. Eventually, the awards began. Brooke clapped for all the other students crossing the stage, her eyes trained on the way they walked. She swallowed down the panic she felt, banished the thought of tripping over to the back of her mind. It reached Plastique’s turn, and she gave a huge cheer as her friend walked across the stage with all the grace and poise of a supermodel. She could hear Alyssa’s voice shouting from the balcony- “That’s my baby! That’s my girl!”- and, for a moment, she thought she heard the yell of a voice she knew all too well.

No. That was crazy. She must have imagined it.

E in the alphabet turned to F, then G, and eventually, H. Brooke didn’t have many others to sit through, and eventually there was only one girl separating her and her degree. The moment these three years had led up to, finally being lived out.

“Brooke Lynn Hytes.”

She heard her name and smiled as she walked carefully across the stage, shaking the Dean’s hand tightly and collecting her scroll all wrapped up in its little embossed tube. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she walked to the other side, heard the claps, heard the cheers, and heard…

“Love you, Brooke Lynn!”

Stop.

“Go Brooke! Love you, girl!”

It was her. It was actually her. Vanessa’s voice, soaring above the crowd and reaching Brooke like an arrow.

What the fuck was she doing here, at her actual graduation ceremony? As Brooke dismounted the stage she scanned the room like a meerkat, the place far too packed to distinguish Vanessa from any other of the little blobs of people sitting in each row. But she knew it was her. Vanessa had seen her graduate, had seen her collect her degree and had cheered for her.

Brooke didn’t know how she’d managed to get a ticket - they were all reserved for families- but she suddenly couldn’t wait for the ceremony to end.

She didn’t have long to wait, as time flew by and everything was over before it could all sink in. Brooke and Plastique emerged from the hall to the crowds outside and, just as they had promised, the girls all rushed forward to crush them in ridiculously tight hugs, Silky yelling at the top of her lungs how proud she was of them both and Akeria shaking a bottle of five pound cava until the cork opened easily and sprayed the fizz all over the two girls. Brooke clung to Plastique and laughed, unable to stop the smile that was plastered on her face.

“I can’t believe it! You both did it, congratulations!” Scarlet cried cheerfully, Brooke pulling her into another hug.

“Did you see me shaking when I walked across the stage? I thought I was going to trip and fall off the damn thing!” Brooke laughed, the other girls all laughing too.

“You looked like a confident, graceful, successful queen,” Nina told her, Brooke wanting to cry at her friend’s compliment. “And you are all of those things! Fuck, I can’t believe we’ve all graduated now. What the hell are we going to do?!”

“Aw, let’s not think about that,” Akeria shushed her, a proud smile on her face. “Well done, ladies. We’re all proud of you. You did that shit.”

Plastique hugged and thanked them all again before making her excuses, saying she’d be right back, and dashing off to Alyssa. As she left, Yvie took Brooke’s hand and squeezed it.

“So, have you not got some big, teen-movie speech to make, or something?” she quipped. Brooke frowned, looking at her with confusion. The rest of the girls all waited for the penny to drop excitedly, and Brooke saw Akeria’s eyes land on someone just over her shoulder. Brooke turned around and, through the crowd, saw Vanessa waiting beside the hall. Their eyes met, and Brooke could see her try and then fail to suppress the smile on her face. Brooke turned back to the girls, pointing over her shoulder at the girl waiting for her.

“How did…you were all-”

Akeria rolled her eyes, gave her a gentle shove. “Go get your fuckin’ girl, idiot.”

Brooke hardly had to be told twice. She turned around, took two steps, then three, then four, until she realised she was almost jogging over to where Vanessa stood. And suddenly she was in front of her- her hair wavy and falling over her shoulders, her outfit exactly what any graduation guest would be wearing- a smart red dress that accentuated Vanessa’s collarbones and dark eyes and the bright white of the smile she was flashing Brooke’s way.

“Hey,” Brooke began, faltering slightly. She didn’t know where to start, so she chose the obvious. “You were there.”

“Yep!” Vanessa smiled at her proudly.

“How did…how?” Brooke stuttered out, still completely at a loss. Vanessa let out a laugh, charming beyond anything Brooke had heard before.

“I messaged your Mama. Got her number off Yvie after she sent her the link for the livestream. Basically said “hey Ms Hytes…can I grab your ticket and see your daughter graduate so I can surprise her”?” Vanessa grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Brooke couldn’t believe it. Her own Mum had been in on the whole thing and hadn’t let on. She was going to kill the woman the moment she touched down in Toronto.

“Oh my God. You’re amazing,” Brooke gasped, taking a little step forward so they were closer. She felt like crying. Vanessa was here, in front of her for what was maybe the last time. She had to do something. She couldn’t lose her. Not again.

“Amazing, huh?” Vanessa asked shyly, looking to the ground. They both knew the question meant so much more than simply what it was, and Brooke, without knowing where her confidence had emerged from, took both of Vanessa’s hands in hers. Vanessa’s gaze shot up, and their eyes met.

“Can I kiss you?”

“God, please.”

Without waiting a second longer, Brooke tipped her head down and met Vanessa’s lips. It was somehow just like the first time, even though in many ways it wasn’t at all. This time, Brooke knew every single inch of Vanessa’s body, she knew her ambitions, her fears, she knew what it was like to have almost lost her and be lucky enough to have her come back again. But most of all, Brooke knew that she was in love with her, so fucking in love with her, this one of a kind girl who she was desperate to keep in her life no matter if Vanessa chose her to be hers or not. Their kiss was gentle and urgent and passionate all at once, and Brooke wanted to hold onto the moment forever. When Vanessa’s lips were gone and Brooke was all at once looking at her again, she had tears in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, ‘Ness. Come on, this isn’t…don’t be upset.”

“I am, though! I’m an idiot. These past two months we could’ve been kissing like that and going on cute dates and planning the future and having fuckin’ insane levels of sex but I left you hanging like boo boo the fuckin’ fool when I knew what my decision was the moment we had that conversation in the library, because it’s you, Brooke, fuck, it’s always been you. I love you so much,” Vanessa sniffed, frantically wiping her tears away as Brooke pulled her against her chest. Vanessa’s voice murmured against her, the most hopeful, plaintive question. “Do you still love me?”

“Fuck, Vanessa, of course I love you. You’re just…the person I was meant to meet, you’re the person I’m meant to have in my life. I love you so much.”

Brooke felt like an idiot as tears began to well up in her own eyes. She looked down at Vanessa and she looked back up at her.

“You’re leaving,” Vanessa let out a tiny sob, her forehead hitting Brooke’s chest again.

“I’ll come back,” Brooke said immediately, meaning it. “Honestly, I will. I’ll book my flights as soon as I’m home. I’ll look for flats and jobs and we can start again. We’ll make it work. I want to be with you.”

Vanessa looked up at her, her happy, grateful smile at Brooke’s words all she needed. She let out a tearful laugh. “Brooke Lynn, will you be my girlfriend?”

Brooke laughed too, taking her both her hands and squeezing them. “Hey, fuck you, I wanted to ask first!”

They both laughed then leaned in for another kiss. Brooke didn’t need to answer. Vanessa hadn’t needed to ask.

As they broke away and wrapped their arms around each other, Brooke felt the tears spring up in her eyes as she looked over at the girls. There was Akeria, making some quip about something, and Silky howling at whatever it was she’d said. Monet had joined them all and was swigging the cava out of the bottle, an arm around Nina who was looking at her with adoration. Scarlet and Yvie were telling them both a story, their hands intertwined and their bodies close. Plastique had dragged her Mum over to meet them all and her face was animated as she spoke to her, so full of happiness and excitement.

“Fuck, Vanessa, I can’t believe it’s all over,” Brooke let out a small sob. Vanessa reached up, swept her tears away with a gentle finger.

“Hey. Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”

Brooke smiled down at her girlfriend. Her girlfriend. There was nobody she’d rather have spent the past three years with.

“You wanna go steal that cava back from Monet?”

Brooke giggled and nodded. Joining their hands together and giving them a little squeeze, they walked back over to be with their family.

[muschiettistrashmouth]

Happiest Place On Earth - Andrés Muschietti

Note: Hello there! I’m finally posting here again ♥ I hope you like it and if you want something new feel free to request it or go to my masterlist! Love you guys. 

Ooooh and I’m already thinking of a part two for this one. (This is not the one I was thinking of posting yet, I thought of this one on Monday or something like that)

Requested? Yes

Requests:  Anonymous: can you do more Andy Muschietti stuff? I've kinda developed a crush on him and I read your headcanons. please! thanks. |||   credulouskhaleesi: So 1st and most importantly, I give you absolutely nooo pressure on starting (you let those creative juices stew and create magic when you're ready) but I just realized I never asked you to tag me when you do create the wonderful fanfic featuring the awe-inspiring, Argentinian, aesthetically-perfect, Andrés (Alliteration inspiration?)! I would owe you my 2nd born if u remembered me (sorry, I'm pretty found of my 1st)🤷🏾‍♀️😁❤ T.I.A!

WARNINGS: Toxic relationship, aggressive ex boyfriend, violence, suicide talk (it appears like in one little part but i thought I needed to tw it)

Disneyland is supposed to be the happiest place on earth and yet here you are, listening to your boyfriend Kyle talking shit about how you treat him. And to make things worse, his "friend" Rebekah is getting out of one of the attractions. Yay. "Kylee!" The girls voice is loud and all you wanna do is get out of there. "Bekah! How are you?" Yeah, right. As if you didn't know they fucked. You knew they were together yesterday, you could feel her perfume in his clothes. "Your girl is soooo muzzy." 'God, just get me out of here's + "Okay, rule number one!" The older man started to list, everyone stopped talking and looked at him."Don't lose the kids. Yes, Hader and Chastain are part of the kids." "Hey!" Both said together and then laughed their ass off. "That's what I mean." He was serious, almost as if he was a horror movie crazy doctor or something. "Rule number two: don't do anything stupid." "That's for you." The Wolfhard kid elbowed Hader. "It's not." The older man that played his character put his tongue out like a little kid would do. "It's for both of you, actually." "Aww c'mon man." "Third rule is..." He waited for everyone to look at him. "If you need anything you can ask me or Barbara. Any questions?" Hader put his hand up and everybody groaned. "Yeah, dad, can we have fun?" The comedian asked playfully. "Just don't embarrass yourself or anyone here, ok? Go." As soon as the group started walking towards the park, the blonde woman looked at her brother. "You don't need to act so mad all the time you know?" " I don't know what you're talking about. Let's go before they do something stupid." The man ran to  little Jackson to help him find the rides he wanted to go to, the first rule was already broken. + Waiting to get your food, you were constantly trying to block all the conversation your boyfriend and his "friend" were having. "We should go to the Prince Charming Carrousel." Kyle eventually looked at you to see if you were paying attention, returning to look at her lovingly. "Everything for you, honey." He had said. "Everything for you, honey." You said mocking him. "What?" Kyle looked at you right away. "Huh? Oh nothing, nothing." You faked smile, hoping he wouldn't grab your arm this time, hoping you wouldn't have bruises to cover up. "That's what I thought." The way he looked at you made you shiver. "Can we please go see Belle? Or Ariel? I really want to take some pics with them." You said eating your churros. Some people passed by looking at your back and arms that still had some bruises from last time, God you hated that. "Excuse me, ma'am." A soft voice called you. "I'm lost, can you tell me where the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train is?" You got down to talk with the kid, trying to remember the exact place. "JACKSON!" You heard a man. "Jeez, kid! Don't do that to me." "It's okay, she'll help us, Andy!" Jackson said to the man. You could feel Kyle's eyes burning in your back, but hey, it's just a kid. You gave him the directions to the attraction. "Thank you, ma'am." The little kid said when you got up. He was really sweet. "Thank you." The tall man looked at you and you could see he had some curiosity in his stare. "Sorry for yelling earlier, I'm with a bunch of kids here, it drives me mad." "Not a problem, sir." You laughed. "Let's go, y/n." Kyle grabbed your right arm. You stayed quiet for a moment to stop yourself from shivering. "Okay, honey." "Is that a problem?" The man, Andy, said. "I'm her boyfriend. Stop trying to fuck her." 'oh no' you thought 'its happening again' "Kyle, I was just giving the kid some information, it's nothing." After you said that the only thing you felt was a slap in your face. "Don't talk like that to me, you whore. I'm sick of it." He was complaining that people were looking at you the whole week. It was a matter of time this would happen. "Let her go." Andy said, ready to fight him. Kyle was still holding your arm tightly. Jackson was scared, holding the blonde woman's hand, both starring at you three. Rebekah was sitting on a bench, eating your churros and watching the little show. "Make me." The blonde woman gave Jackson to a redhead woman that went to talk to her, they seemed like good friends. She then walked your way. Andy punched your boyfriend's face, he let you go and the blonde hugged you and got you closer to her friend and the kid. It all happened so fast, they were punching each other, Kyle was surprisingly losing, and then a security guard came running. Andy explained the situation while holding Kyle on the ground. "I'll take it from here." He got Kyle and started walking. "And what about him?" He started yelling, trying to get away from him. "He didn't do anything... As far as I care you tripped and fell on the ground." The guard explained. "Y/n! You come right here." You tried to go, but the blonde was still holding you in place. "I have to go." "You don't have to." She said. "Not anymore." "You don't understand... He'll get mad and then beat me up again." This came out between sobs. "He said that if I ever leave him he'll kill himself!" "He won't, honey." The redhead said softly. Her hand on your shoulder. You were crying. Hard and painfully. Your knees on the ground, the blonde still hugging you, and you hold onto her tightly. "Everything's gonna be okay." "Barb." Andy said, helping you both get up. They talked a little bit, but you didn't understand Spanish. She was still hugging you, saying everything is going to be okay and that you're free now, Andy went to buy some cold water for you. "I didn't got the chance to know you better. My name's Barbara, you can call me Barb if you want to." Barbara smiled. "I'm y/n, you can call me y/n/n." You smiled back. People like Barbara and Andy were rare in your experience, normally people would let Kyle beat you and even blame you for that. "Thank you for helping me. I really appreciate that." "Oh honey, that's the least we could do. I'm so sad that he was able to slap you tho." "Not the first time, not the first place..." A sigh escaped your lips. "Here." Andy gave you the water bottle. "Put it on your cheek." "Thanks." He scared you a little. He was handsome, but really tall. And he also looked like a crazy doctor. "Not for that, miss." He nodded to a group of mostly men that joined the redhead woman and then looked at you again. "You should come with us to the attractions. That way no one will bother you and... You can actually have fun." "That would be nice." "Great, you will love them." He gave you his hand to help you up again. "These two are clowns. They are really idiots." He pointed at the redhead and a goofy looking man. "She's Jessica and he's Bill, you can call him Hader. The others are Isaiah, Andy, James, the other James you can call Ransone, Bill and Jay." He pointed at them while saying the names. "The kids are Finn, Wyatt, Chosen, Sophia, Jack, Jeremy, Jaeden and  Jackson." "It's a pleasure to know you all." You had stopped crying and were drying your tears. The rest of your day was incredible. They made you laugh and were super friendly to you. Hader was the funniest guy you ever met. When you went to get lunch, Andrés - that was his real name - paid your lunch, he insisted. After the fireworks, everyone headed to the parking lot. "Hey, message me when you get home okay?" Andrés said after stopping by your car. You gave him your phone so he could put his number in it. "I'll probably put you in our group chat." "That's really nice of you, Muschietti." "Drive safely, honey!" Barbara said opening up her window. "You too!" You got inside your car. That really was the happiest place on earth.

TAGS:  credulouskhaleesi

If you want to be tagged in something pls tell me, I’ll gladly tag you ♥

[alanncs]

hi my angels ! my name’s dani , i’m from toronto ontario aka best city in the worldt , & i’m 20  !  i’m the kelsey m on the main  &  i can’t tell u how excited i am to have wealthy up n running again !  i literally can’t wait to plot with all you beautiful peoples , so pls like this  &  i’ll slide in the dms , otherwise u can also hit me up on discord 𝒎𝒈𝒌'𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 .#1958  !!  i’m gonna put all you need  2 know about alanna below aaand i hope y’all like her ! <3

new york’s very own alanna d'alessio was spotted on broadway street in gucci bee sneakers . your resemblance to hailey baldwin is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty first birthday bash . while living in nyc ,  you’ve been labeled as being reticent , but also gracious . i guess being a scorpio explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be anything pink , the lingering smell of weed , and a cigarette between her fingers . &  ( cisfemale & she/her  )  +  ( dani , 20 , she/her , est . )

                    *  /   𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑠 .

full  name  :  alanna  marie  d’alessio  .

age :  twenty  -  one  .

hometown  :  new  york  city  .

zodiac  chart  :  scorpio  sun  ,  aquarius  moon  ,  libra  rising  .

character  inspo  :  alyssa  (  the  end  of  the  f*cking  world  )  ,  marissa  cooper  (  the  o.c  )  ,  hanna  marin  (  pretty  little  liars  )  .

                   *  /   𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚   !!  tw  : kidnapping , ransom , drugs

alanna was born heir to the d'alessio family which came with the billion dollar dynasty that her parents created . 

her dad is an italian government official  but they grew up in ny basically bc her dad is an ambassador/representative for italy  &  her mother is a super model who also wanted to raise her kids here having lived here her whole life , and so they did . 

she had everything handed to her on a silver platter and her parents expected nothing but success from her because of how wealthy they were, they knew they would never have to worry about providing for her and her siblings , and so they spoiled her with whatever she asked for and more

but that came with a price, she was expected to do everything they wanted of her, go to an ivy league college, follow in one of her parent’s career footsteps

alanna did just that, she got amazing grades in high school and was head of many student clubs, organized prom, got almost perfect on sat’s and exams, and busted her ass to get into a good college despite the fact that her parents could’ve easily gotten her a spot if she didn’t do as well as she did

her life was going so well, she had the perfect boyfriend, perfect group of friends, was on her way to brown university in a couple of months, her parents and her couldn’t have been in a better spot with their daughter

the last thing they expected was for someone, a stranger, to get their hands on their daughter . a week after her 18th birthday , she’s walking to school on a monday morning and before she knows what’s happening , there’s something over her head and she’s being dragged into a van and taken from her life

the one thing that was expected, was the $10 million ransom she was held for

basically her dad had some shady dealings with the italian mob & didn’t pay his debts to them for some time - so they kidnapped alanna in retaliation for that

they kept her for 3 days before her parents were able to work with the authorities to get her returned and pay the people in full

surprisingly, she was returned alive but she had to spend two weeks in the hospital afterwards with injuries

once alanna was returned, she wasn’t the same

she told the police what happened to her , but only barely . she didn’t tell her parents or anyone else about what they did to her when she was gone .

she didn’t speak , eat or sleep for two months after she got home

she spent the last few months of her high school in bed, she didn’t attend her graduation, deferred from going to brown in the fall, she didn’t see her friends anymore and she broke up with her boyfriend

the people who took her were never caught & she is still to this day completely terrified of going anywhere alone

she never walks anywhere alone  

it took her months to be able to get back to doing normal things again and being who she was before

to this day ,  alanna still struggles with the memories and the ptsd from what happened to her , but she doesn’t speak to anyone about it and she refuses to bring it up in any scenario

she also has a horrible relationship with her father now , having trouble forgiving him for what happened to her

some people know about it as obviously, being as famous as her family is, it was on the news at the time, and everyone she went to high school with knew what happened so sometimes it can be hard to avoid it

she wants to forget - here comes her secret - she got into drugs after the kidnapping and it quickly spiraled out of control , now she can’t seem to function without them because they’re the only thing that make her feel normal and make the memories fade

anything she can get her hands on rly

but the media think she’s an angel , her reputation has been kept p much pristine her whole life . and her parents have no clue how much she’s struggling or how much she’s changed . so if this were to come out , it would tarnish not only alanna’s reputation but her family’s  as well

                                         *  /   𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚  !!

after deferring from brown ,  alanna knew she had to find some way to keep herself occupied and make money , even though she could live off her parents for however long she wanted

alanna wants to be . miss independent .

so she started getting into modelling , bc of her mom it was easy for her to book gigs

she was able to book gigs like adidas , guess , calvin klein  etc  !

so  that was super exciting for her bc she got really into it and  enjoyed doing it sm

she started acting about a year ago - started off in a few movies , & now she’s currently starring in a netflix series - smth similiar to elite or on my block !

oko so in high school alanna was super bubbly , and just like the really overly nice girl that would talk to literally every 1

but it worked for her bc she was  voted prom queen  and valedictorian ! even tho she missed graduation . yike

Anyway now ! she is not v much like that anymore , except  when she’s super high .

since her kidnapping alanna has been closed off and aloof . in general , she’s not as talkative

she says what she thinks but it usually comes in one word mumbles

can sometimes b very entertaining  . she’s kinda like paris hilton a little bit

also think Marissa from the oc !!

call her a  spoiled brat she’s gonna be like “ yah… and ?”

she  can be very selfish to a fault  in certain situations

and very defensive if she feels attacked, judged , put into a corner , physically cornered , etc

she’s a hopeless romantic at heart and dreams of having an epic love story

but she  has Hella trust issues which easily lead to commitment issues for her so … she will cheat “by accident” lol

that’s why she tries to steer clear of relationships but she also has such a big heart she  falls in love 5 times a day sffsdkj

also w  how much this girl  can sleep around it’s not happening any Time soon 4 her ! she enjoys being single a lot

Bc she likes to get wild

shes like nicole richie on the simple life when she’s partying  lmao

like she likes 2 fuck with ppl sometimes lol , like she will flirt w anyone and everyone just cus she’s bored

umm she lives  in sweatpants n crop tops !

her hair is either in a  bun or just down , she’s rly lazy when it comes to hair and makeup   . like if her makeups done someone else did it lol

Unless she’s like fully in the mood

ooverall she’s a rly sweet lil bean whos just scared of humans ! :’(

um ya idk im always developing  her but IF U read  all this  ilysm !

here’s her pinterest board for more of an idea !

                                  *  /  𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔  !!

EVERYTHING   !  here is a link to my wc page & a link to my wc TAG which are both full of ideas so  msg me  & i’ll throw tons of ideas at u <333 let’s do it i luv plotting sm okay

[angvs]

❛ ✶ ( LUKE HEMMINGS , CISMALE , HE/HIM )  —  did you see ANGUS DONNELLEY walking around campus earlier ? i hear a lot of people talking about the TWENTY TWO year old JUNIOR . from what i know , they are studying NEUROSCIENCE and are a part of DELTA PSI BETA . they come across as + EMPATHETIC but also - PERNICIOUS , which makes sense because on their instagram ( @gusdonny ) it says they are a TAURUS . when i see them , i think of dropping your coffee on the pavement , tattered crewnecks & denim , sitting in some hole in the wall restaurant at 2am , omw texts while still laying in bed , & chipped bitten nails . the most interesting thing i’ve heard about them though , is the fact that [ REDACTED ] , but don’t tell anyone i told you that .

wow  y’all  really  went  hard  in  your  intros  i  am  not  worThy !!!  hi  everyone !!  i’m  cj  and  i’m  from  the  true  north ,  strong  and  free ..  aka  canada  bby .  i’m  out  in  mountain time ,  which  is  why  i  am  SO  LATE ,  i  was  at  work  today  :~(   i’m  super  excited  to  write  with  you  guys  though  !!  i  brought  one  of  my  favourite  boys  ..  this  is  my  big  dummy  angus ,  but  pls  if  u  love  the  boy  at  all  call  him  gus .  

tw :  drug mention below

╰ ˚･ﾟ & some 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒔

full name: angus  elijah  donnelley nicknames: gus age: twenty two date of birth: april 27th hometown: malibu ,  california preferred pronouns: he/him orientation: pansexual occupation: n/a , currently studying at beaumont  language(s) spoken: english ,  swedish ( very rusty ) pets: bulldog-terrier mix named cleo ( aka … luke hemmings irl puppy ,  i couldn’t help myself ok ) ,  but ... it’s  a  family  dog ,  so ... she’s  back  at  home  and  he  misses  her  EVERY  DAY .

PINTEREST BOARD !!

born  and  raised  in  malibu ,  angus  grew  up  with  strict ,  ambitious  parents . his  father  a  neurosurgeon ,  and  mother  an  architect .  it  was  very  early  on  that  they  instilled  their  high  expectations  for  the  boy ,  teaching  him  the  importance  of  discipline  and  responsibility .  their  intentions  were  good  of  course ,  as  every  parent  wants  to  raise  their  child  right ,  though  angus  wasn’t  truly  equipped .  in  actuality  the  couple  came  off  as  overbearing  and  their  high  expectations  deemed  unreachable  in  the  male’s  eyes .  as  he  grew  older ,  the  feeling  grew  stronger  that  he  would  never  quite  live  up  to  their  standards –  97%  on  his  mathematics  test ??  well ,  why  wasn’t  it  100% ??

family  time  was  scarce  in  the  donnelley  household .  with  both  parents  working  full  time  and  lots  of  time  spent  working  extra  hours ,  angus  became  independent  quickly .  his  mother  was  flying  to  dubai  for  work  quite  frequently ,  gone  weeks  at  a  time .  some  weeks  if  felt  like  his  father  LIVED  in  the  hospital .  but  he  was  saving  lives ,  and  how  could  angus  be  so  SELFISH  to  want  him  at  home .  it  meant  he  grew  extremely  close  to  his  two  younger  sisters ,  often  opting  to  spending  the  weekends  entertaining  them  rather  then  out  at  parties .  the  family  had  a  nanny  to  help ,  so  he  didn’t  HAVE  to ,  but  his  sisters  always  came  first  to  him  and  being  the  eldest  he  has  a  serious  case  of  protective  older  brother  syndrome .

after  graduating  high  school ,  he  somehow  managed  to  convince  his  parents  to  allow  him  to  head  abroad  for  the  year .  with  promises  of  coming  back  home  and  hunkering  down  into  his  pre med  degree .  the  couple  really  wanted  angus  to  head  straight  into  uni ,  but  with  tons  of  begging ,  they  sent  him  off ,  bank  account  full .  the  year  was  spent  travelling  and  honestly ,  just  having  FUN –  a  few  months  over  in  paris ,  london ,  italy ,  greece …  some  places  he’d  been  before  with  his  family ,  but  not  in  the  way  he  got  to  experience  them  now .  angus  continued  his  travels  to  japan ,  korea ,  new  zealand ,  australia …  never  staying  in  one  place  for  too  long .  but  the  fun  had  to  come  to  an  end .

as  promised ,  angus  attended  beaumont  upon  returning  back  to  the  states  studying neurosciences ,  getting  his  pre med  classes  under  his  belt .  he  is  a  legacy  kid --  his  father  having  been  apart  of  delta  psi  beta  when  he  attended  the  university .  becoming  a  doctor  has  never  quite  been  his  dream ,  so  much  as  it  was  his  parents .  while  the  male  continues  his  undergraduate  degree ,  he  wonders  if  he  should  change  his  path ,  though  that’s  not  a  conversation  he  can  have  with  his  parents .  angus  has  always  wanted  to  leave  an  impact on  others ,  in  what  way ,  well he’s  never  been  sure .  

╰ ˚･ﾟ & 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚

a  big  dumb  softy !!

what  if  i  left  it  at  that …. !!  no  but ,  honestly …  he’s  definitely  chaotic  neutral .  he’s  a  big  empath ,  and  will  usually  feel  for  you  to  his  core .  

i  have  some  tiktoks  to  link ,  because  our  beautiful  admins  inspired  me !!!  and  if  you  do  anything ... please  watch  these :  ONE ,  TWO ,  THREE ,  FOUR ,  FIVE  ( tag  urself ,  angus  is  the  idiot  that  makes  the  entire  thing  go  down )

it  could  be  sometimes  annoying ,  because  angus  can’t  really  ‘ pick  sides ’ ,  this  boy  can  see  the  validity  in  all  sides  ( in  most  cases ) .  he’s  definitely  loyal  to  you ,  but  he’ll  be  that  friend  that  brings  up  the  defence  just  to  make  you  really  think .  because  of  this  he  can  be  either  really  good  with  advice …  or  really  bad ,  there’s  no  in  between .  he’ll  hit  you  with  a  million  different  solutions ,  confident  that  every  one  is  good  … “ it  just  depends  what  vibe  you  wanna  go  for ”

he …   gets  distracted  easily .  he  dabbles  in  a  bit  of  adderall ,  with  his  course load ...  it’s  just  kinda  how  he  copes .  definitely  known  to  pop  some  pills  during  night  study  sesh’s ,  essays  &  finals  week .

he  doesn’t  LIKE  to  party  a  ton ,  like …  he’s  just  not  into  big  crowds  really ?  but  if  he  tells  you  he  doesn’t  want  to  go  out ,  it’s  VERY  EASY  to  change  his  mind ,  because  he  has  Big  FOMO .  but  he’s  22  yanno  and  he’s  in  a  big  party  frat  so ,  catch  him  getting  drunk  and  probably  high  every  weekend ,  off  to  the  side  with  a  few  less  people ,  or  in  the  smoking  pit  at  the  clubs  fawning  over  ur  outfit  or  smth .  after  he’ll  drag  your  ass  to  some  hole  in  the  wall  restaurant  and  order  way  too  much  shit .

he’s  lowkey  v  self  destructive .  it’s  something  he  doesn’t  even  realize  he’s  doing  most  of  the  time ,  but  he’s  genuinely  surprised  when  a  friend  sticks  around .  the  ones  that  do  stick ,  have  definitely  had  to  deal  with  him  fucking  about  and  being  overdramatic  in  an  attempt  to  protect  himself .  idk  why  this  is  so  important  to  me ,  but  he  FOR  SURE  made  a  few  tik toks  w  that  whole …. “ if  i  was  a  worm …  would  you  still  love  me ? ”  AND  if  you  told  him  no ,  would  be  pissed  for  days .

very  affectionate !!!!  with !!!!  everyone !!!!

╰ ˚･ﾟ & 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

attended  a  semester  abroad  in  sweden .  is  very  rusty  now ,  but  can  hold  a  basic  conversation  in  swedish .

cleo ,  his  pup ,  is  his  absolute  pride  and  joy .  he  talks  about  her  as  if  she’s  his  daughter  ok .  misses  her  sm  while  away  at  school .

he’s  so  messy ,  but  will  defend  himself  by  saying  they  always  had  a  maid ,  and  then  realizes  how  DUMB  he  sounds .

sk8er  boi ~~  nah ,  but  he  actually  does  skateboard ,  and  is  trying  to  perfect  his  kickflip rn .

loves pizza pls

is  always  attending  live  shows ,  he  loves  the  music  scene  and  frequently  supports  locals

will  “ thrift ”  the  dumbest  shit  for  hundreds  of  dollars …

plays  guitar ,  but  doesn’t  think  he’s  very  good

╰ ˚･ﾟ & 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

i  made  up  a  page  HERE ,  but  PLS  i  LOVE  brainstorming ,  so  don’t  hesitate  to  come  to  me  for  some  brainstorming !!

[apocylips]

hi! i’m eris, genderfluid (w/e pronouns work for me), i’m 25, it’s nice to meet you- the following is a brief about/rules/things you should know that’s going to be pinned until i manage to write a full work doc of rules and about.

please note- i don’t ever plan on having a full theme, this blog will always be ‘dash only’, i just have full blog view open so people can send asks and because it’s? easier to read things/look through tags with blog view open. i also won’t always be using icons/heavy formatting just bc... while i love graphics- i'd much rather focus on my content/writing.

my permanent starter call can be found here 🥀

rules; 

there will be triggers on this blog with michael being from ahs. any mention of how michael was conceived i’d say is... rare on this blog, but would probably be the worst that you’ll see here (and always tagged). there will be a pretty high chance of bloody imagery and n/sfw mentions, the latter will always be tagged as ‘nsfw cont tw’.

multi-verse, multi-ship- lots of crossover content please!

no drama pls- if something about my content bothers you, either please come to me personally or soft-block. if you talk about me behind my back and i find out, you’ll also be blocked. i just really don’t have time for people committed to misunderstanding me.

the psd i use for my dash icon/icons is ‘berry cherry’ by kingsleigh, the border is border 2 by artemispsds, and the blockquotes are a free-to-use template made by plutocommissions.

important things about my michael;

i use canon for michael very loosely. as i get this blog up and running again i’ll be making an actual about with what i’m dropping/keeping, but anything concerning the final couple episodes you can consider dropped from my canon. we’re not acknowledging that ending in this house.

michael is the literal antichrist and he’s powerful. 

my michael is genderfluid and goes by he/him/they pronouns. when he’s ‘younger’ sometimes he dresses feminine leaning (in au’s where he’s in a setting like to explore his personal preferences more- like attending miss robichaux's) but by the time he’s fully ‘matured’ he regularly wears eye makeup, dresses with a feminine flair, and usually has a full lingerie set on beneath his suit/outfit. in most canon verses he doesn’t have enough knowledge of modern gender terms to be able to tell anyone he’s genderfluid, but he knows himself enough to know how he feels/how he likes to present himself.

michael is bisexual... i wouldn’t say he leans one way more than the other, but he’s definitely not a big fan of submissive partners. from canon i ship him with john henry, mallory, madison and sometimes under pre-plotted circumstances, cordelia.

michael’s ‘younger’ visage (warlock academy up until the apocalypse) is in his early twenties while his ‘older’ post-apocalypse visage is closer to his late twenties/early thirties. i use a range because michael is not human and therefor does not age like a normal human. his aging accelerated in early live and then decelerated- he will stop aging around 37 (around a literal 13 in human years, if i’m remembering correctly). michael is not human. how he ages as well as how matures emotionally is far different than that of a human. 

on how he emotionally matures- michael can be perfectly poised and together, contained, or can be an absolute raging mess of a brat. usually, the latter isn’t hidden too far behind the former making him a bit of a loose canon once a nerve has been hit.

michael has physical (unseen, because they’re ‘internal’) differences as well that not even he doesn’t know about because he’s never been to a doctor... he has a jacobson’s organ along the roof of his mouth, the same as a snake. it’s a patch of ‘sensory cells’ used to taste the air- in michael’s case he can taste the emotions of others.

michael does not have any physical records; birth certificate, social security, any sort of government record/papers. along with never having been to a doctor, he also was never able to go to school.

last updated 9/22/2020