#i has been sick i has been stressed and i have been watching climbing

[moriaarts]

Nothing builds a bond like finding a lost kid together, becoming inseparable and then one of you dying while breaking ur fucking heart - anyway hey look waxer and boil again c::

[super-clearlysaltybouquet]

The One With the Blouse (1/2)

Part 1/2

Wolfstar x reader      Sirius Black x reader      Remus Lupin x reader      Sirius Black x Remus Lupin      Sirius Black x reader x Remus Lupin 

Established couple (throuple)

Summary: Reader cares about how people see her, tensions boil over when the group get ready for a Gryffindor party

Warnings:

Angst (argument)

Hurt (and minimal comfort…)

Lots of insecurity, feeling disposable in a relationship

my first fic ever so please be kind…will potentially write a part 2 if people like this one (feedback is welcomed)

word count: 1.8k

Sirius looks so pretty in his white blouse. The silk brings out his dark hair perfectly, and the fabrics warm undertones complimented his pale skin. “Is all the fuss really necessary?” Sirius asked, bothering with the bow neckline of the blouse.

“You want to look good, don’t you?” You respond stiffly, tying, and re-tying the bow, unsatisfied with how it sits around his neck. 

“You forgot to Iron it.”, you say, Tying, untying, re-tying. Completely zeroed in.

“Does it really matter?” Sirius responds, completely exasperated.

Remus watches on from the armchair by his bed. It’s standard routine at this point. Before every common room party, Remus is ready by dinner - always a plain top and trousers, today a white T-shirt with blue jeans. “Very James Dean”, Sirius had said. He's been sitting there entirely patient on the same armchair for the past two hours, reading only half attentively as you and Sirius get ready.

“Sweetheart, the bow is fine”, Remus advises gently. He’s not in a rush, but he can tell that as much as you usually enjoy it, today the up-doing process is stressing you out. 

“No..no, not yet”, you respond absentmindedly, still fixated on Sirius’s blouse. 

Tying, untying, re-tying the bow. Sirius huffs out a humourless laugh and takes a quick step back turning completely away from you. Your hands are still held up, frozen where his neck would be. Your eyebrows furrow, and Remus looks up from his book.

“It’s the same every bloody time!”, Sirius suddenly cries out, you’re completely taken aback. 

“Sirius”, Remus warns.

“Godric, Forgive me! I didn’t iron my fucking blouse!”, he feigns, “You’re suffocated me” he finishes, coldly, glaring daggers straight through you. He’s still so beautiful, with his ebony hair hanging long and dark over his face, but the pit in your stomach is somehow darker. 

Remus is stood to his full height now, book abandoned. “You’re out of line”, his anger still somehow contained. And Sirius has the gall to let out a laugh. The party in the common room seems to have started. You can hear music and laughing below the bluestone floors. You try and divert your focus to that lively sound and take it off the painful bob in your throat. 

“I’m out of line? You’re kidding Moony”, Sirius laughs. his lack of sincerity is incredibly unnerving. “The bitch is vapid”, and your heart nearly stops, you can feel the sick climbing up your throat. Remus is seething, but you’re not sure he knows exactly what to say anyway. 

“What?”, is all you can muster hopelessly. 

Sirius takes a step towards you, and you all seem to move at once. You take one step back at the same time Remus steps between you and the shorter boy.

“Cut it out Sirius”, Remus warns, towering above the both of you with his height, and his domineering demeanour. But Sirius is undeterred.

“You. are. entirely. vapid”, he repeats, now looking over at you past Remus’s shoulder. “you’re just like my mother” he whispers to himself, like some sort of secret revelation, and you just want it all to end. “Completely superficial, shallow, and entirely vapid” he seethes, before turning back away from you again, taking in a slow deep breath. You think you can hear his heart beating nearly just as quick as yours.

Sirius’s accusation sits inside you. You can’t deny that you do like nice things. Your jewellery was all made custom, you shopped at the best boutiques on Diagon Alley, and you kept up appearances. 

Your parents have always been devastatingly high-achieving. You were no stranger to the odd charity gala, or pureblood ball. So, for you that meant endless expectations to live up to. Making sure clothes were ironed, hair was done right and shoes were all polished was just second nature. You pay attention to these things because you have to. Your label as a “washed-up-witch” in Witch Weekly’s coverage of the Macmillan ball in 72 serves as a reminder. Filtered through pre-teen public humiliation, these things stick. As deflated as you felt regarding Sirius’s outburst, you could feel an equal anger bubbling just below the surface. 

“You did not just compare me to your draconian fanatic of a mother”, is the first thing that leaves your lips. Your eyes are wide, and that anger is bubbling over. Yet, your voice is so level that you think you just might have the upper hand. You can tell that Sirius was expecting you to respond with equal fervour, he wanted a fight, and your composure has caught him off guard. You think for a second, maybe he didn’t even mean to hurt you. 

Remus would back you up if you needed him to, but he knows you really don’t need him to. You’d like to say your piece, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze in support.

“Just because you can afford to reject tradition and expectation doesn’t mean we all have that luxury” you seethe.

Sirius has always had the reputation of a Black Sheep, but it made him shine nevertheless. Every act of rebellion on his part was praised and admired by your peers. But as a woman in the 70s, and the only child in a pureblood family - you were often subject to incomparable scrutiny.

“Maybe I’m too much sometimes” your voice breaks, and the tears have started to flow of their own accord now. Rushing like silent broken faucets, or shower heads. Sirius’s eyes flash with regret. You look up at the ceiling to blink them back, and Remus gives your hand another squeeze, silently shaking his head and biting his tongue. He’s glaring at Sirius with a healthy mixture of disappointment, and something akin to fury.

“I can’t help but care about how I look”, you whisper to no one in particular, “This is usually fun, getting dressed up together”, and Sirius looks completely in despair. That almost cocky, goading aura that surrounded him has been evaporated by your undeniable heartbreak. He’s fidgeting with the hem of the blouse now, and his fingers move hesitantly up to his neckline, where your hands sat only moments ago. He’s palming at the skin there, as it slowly turns pink from the pressure.

“I’m only fussy because I care, Sirius”, you say wavering, lip quivering as your crying takes both your eyes, and your voice. He can’t look you in the eye.

The subtext isn’t missed by either of the boys, you care because you love them. You enjoy dressing them up because you want them to look good and enjoy themselves. To protect them from any anxiety associated with landing on a worst dressed list, even informally among the Gryffindor party-goers three flood below.

You look down at your disco boots, perfect stockings and shift dress. It all feels so silly now, wearing the outfit you picked out three days in advance. You want to crawl out of your skin, and you really don’t feel like dancing. Sirius is still palming at his collarbones, staring with dazed and shallow eyes at his feet and the floor below them. You can’t see his face properly behind his hair, but you know him well enough to think he might be crying too. “I hope you’re proud of yourself Black” Remus chimes in, and you wince at the use of that last name. Remus’s hand rubs small circles around the back of your neck, you can't help but want his hot skin off you.

“I-I didn’t-”, Sirius starts, but you walk from the room with Remus quick at your heels before he can finish. 

The stairway down to the common room is empty, with the party building up below. It’s just you and Remus standing still on the stairs. “You know he didn’t mean that”, Remus says kindly, more for your sake than Sirius’s. He’s brushing the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, and gently pushing the hair back from around your face. “He gets like this when he’s stressed, it’s not your fault”, he reassures, kissing the top of your head. 

“I stressed him, I should have just let him be”, you whisper, and Remus is silent. This is the first big fight you've had as a couple. You’re a slightly more recent addition to their pairing. Quips and little disagreements have never been an issue. Even when you were all just friends these things were always resolved in a matter of minutes - or a few hours at most, but this is the first time a spat has ended in tears. 

You wonder if this was a mistake. You hope to Godric that Remus isn’t thinking it too. “I think I’ll go to bed”, you say finally, and you can feel him frown. 

“But you were so excited for tonight” he says sadly, more of an acknowledgment, you know he doesn’t mean to change your mind. You’re all hardly in the mood for a party.

“Maybe you and Sirius can still have some fun”, and you hope it doesn’t come across as bitter, but Remus’s solemn expression suggests otherwise, he lets it go.

“I’ll talk to him”, Remus assures, as he molds his body around yours in a much-needed embrace. Having him so close stirs a vulnerability within you, and you’re sure that if you could see his face, you wouldn't have the courage to open your mouth. 

“Maybe we were wrong”, you whisper into his chest, scared. 

Remus is burning 20 degrees hotter.

“What makes you say that?”, he responds measured, but the unease in his voice is palpable. He’s pulled back to look at your face now, and you fidget under his gaze. You give him a look to say without words, ‘are you kidding?’.

“But you know we love you”, Remus says desperately, more of a question than a statement, gripping the sides of your head firmly, so as to say, ‘please believe me’. You just shake your head between his hands. “You heard him, didn’t you?”, you start, “Completely superficial, shallow, and entirely vapid” you quote, and Remus cringes. 

“I’ll talk to him”, he repeats.

“No, no its okay, I’m going to bed”, you say, almost completely defeated by the tidal wave of self-doubt flooding through you.

“Dove-”

“How about you talk to him, and you two can decide what we do from here”, Remus looks heartbroken at the implication.

“Surely you don’t think we don’t want to see you anymore?”, There seems to be something sparkly welling in his eyes too, Godric, what a horrible evening.

You’re so in your head you hardly register Remus’s question. When he goes to pull you close again you take a small step back, your fingers still interlinked. The moonlight shines in through the stained glass, and the sparkle of salt in Remus’s eyes begins to fall. You can hear Diana Ross’s smooth voice echoing off the stone from downstairs, tonight could have gone so differently. You can’t help but feel you’ve caused all this. Whatever animosity Sirius seems to have been harbouring towards you, you’re sure it lives inside Remus too, even if you can’t see it yet. You turn around before you have the chance to look back.

“I’m going to bed”.

[twirlyleafs]

”Start of the season-drama” pt2

Max Verstappen x reader

TW: slight angst, raised voices

A/N: thank you sooo much for the support on part one!! doing a lil happy dance because of u xx

~~~~

Max had tried calling you over fifty times the past three days but you refused to answer. You didn’t know if it was because you were still upset with him or because you were just that ashamed, but you couldn’t find it in you to talk to him. You had hope that there was a reasonable explanation for the photos but no matter how hard you tried to come up with one they all ended with you heartbroken. You were terrified Max would confirm any of them.

You read his texts and listened to his voice messages, responding that you’d talk to him when he’d get back. When he threatened to take an early flight, missing the race, you told him he was being dramatic and then you wished him good luck. Max stopped trying to reach you after that.

You had called in sick to work Friday and Saturday, staying home to simultaneously write and watch the qualifying and the race. You weren’t surprised to see Max bring home another win, but you felt bad when you noticed his seemingly bad mood in the post-race interviews. You could just assume you were the reason for the constant frown on his face and the dark circles under his eyes.

Sunday afternoon rolled in and you were restless. The fact that Max would be arriving back home tomorrow was starting to freak you out and you forced yourself to keep busy at all times not to overthink everything more than you already were. Currently you were standing on your tiptoes on one of the bar chairs, dusting the top of the bookshelves that were lining one wall in the living room. It obviously hadn’t been done in years and didn’t necessarily need to be done now either, but it was something to do. You were so caught up in your work that you hadn’t noticed the sound of the front door being unlocked, the bags being dropped on the floor or someone entering the room. Max stopped on the other side of the room, brows furrowed as he took you in. You were wearing one of his shirts, by the look of it one of his oldest ones and he knew you would’ve had to dug deep in the drawers for that one. As you reached the top shelf it rode up enough for him to see that you were wearing a pair of his boxers too and for some reason he melted slightly at the fact that you were dressed all in his clothes.

“Be careful.” You flinched, a gasp leaving your lips as your head spun around to follow the sudden sound. Max eyes widened as you wobbled for a second before regaining your balance and he thanked god he didn’t cause you to fall.

“Max, you’re home already?” You were confused, trying to figure out if your calculations had been wrong. He nodded, having to stop himself from walking over to help you as you climbed down from the chair.

“I took an early flight, left right after the podium.” He paused for a second, feeling the anger he’d felt for the past few days bubbling up again. “Felt a bit stressed to get back here since my girlfriend has been refusing to talk to me.” You bit down on the inside of your cheeks, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Congrats on the win, you were-“ you began, but Max cut you off. He had told himself to keep calm, talk this through, but he felt the plan collapse almost immediately. He couldn’t deny the frustration.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t want a congratulation from you y/n, I want an explanation! I want to know what the fuck happened on Thursday?” His voice was sharp, arms crossed over his chest. You looked away.

“What happened was that I wanted to come see you, but you said no.” You shrugged, the frown on your face deepening.

“I didn’t say no, I said it was unnecessary- that’s not even the issue here. The thing I’m most upset- confused over is you said I had some girl?”

“I saw the pictures Max.” You glared at him, all the hurt and confusion and anger from the past few days coming back. “I saw you with her.“

Max looked even more bewildered than a second ago, flailing his arms out in exasperation. “Who?! What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your fucking date to the banquet!” You exclaimed, raising your voice to match his. “The girl you snuck away with when you didn’t think anyone would see!” Max just stared at you with wide eyes, lips opening and parting in confusion. You, however, took his silence as a sign of guilt. “I get that you’d want a girl who’s willing to follow you everywhere, who’s willing to give up her own life to be your trophy but fuck, Max, I thought you’d at least give me a heads up.”

”I didn’t bring a fucking date to the banquet, where are you getting this from? What fucking photos?”

Without another word you reached for your phone, searching up the tweet that started this whole mess. Zooming in on the photo where he was cupping her cheeks you handed him the phone, crossing your arms over your chest the second he grabbed it from you. Max stared down at the screen, eyebrows going up before they were pushed together. Slowly he looked up at you again.

“Baby-“ he began with a sigh, the apologetic tone of his voice had you assuming he was about to confess to cheating on you. The anger was quickly replaced with hurt and a shockwave of sadness. Suddenly your vision was watery and you took a step back, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. Max seemed to understand, quickly shaking his head.

“It’s not what you think, not what it looks like.”

“Oh come on-“ you sniffed, but Max wouldn’t have it.

“No, I get how that sounds but just let me explain. That’s Rebecca, you’ve met her. Tommy’s daughter.” You had to rummaged through your brain for a second before you could place the name. Rebecca was the daughter of one of Redbulls mechanics. You’d met her a few times during races, she was a sweet girl. Your eyes widened slightly.

“Isn’t she like seventeen?”

“Yeah!”

You stared at him, even more chocked than a moment before. Max saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. A shiver ran up his spine at the realization of what you were thinking.

“God no! Not like that. She was at the banquet with Tommy but something happened, I think someone tried to pressure her into drinking and stuff- I met her when I came from the restroom and she was crying so I brought her out, away from everyone.” Max looked down at the photo again, frowning. “Away from the cameras, I thought. She was hyperventilating and I all could think about is when you’re having a panic attack so I did what I do then, I held her and I forced her to breathe with me.” When he looked back up you were already staring at him, lips slightly parted in chock. Max tossed your phone into the couch, taking a careful step closer to you. “That’s it. That’s all that happened. I did what you taught me.”

“God.” You let out a shaky breath, hiding your face behind your hands. Out of all the scenarios you’d constructed over the past few days, none even came close to this. Max hadn’t cheated, he hadn’t even been close to. He’d helped an innocent girl, doing for her what he always did for you when you suffered from anxiety. The guilt was slowly settling in your stomach. Max watched you softly shake your head before you carefully glanced at him between fingers. “Max I’m so sorry.” You saw him visibly relax when he realized you accepted his explanation and a second later he sunk down in the couch, seemingly exhausted. With a deep breath he leaned back, closing his eyes.

“Fuck.” He sighed, reaching up to rub his forehead. “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what I did and why you were so mad and not once did it occur to me that it might’ve been this.” Things were quiet after that. You crawled up on the barstool, pulling your knee to your chest, as Max stayed half laying down in the couch. Leaning your cheek against your knee you watch his chest rise and fall slower and slower. You almost thought he’d fallen asleep when he suddenly spoke again. “Did you think I cheated on you?”

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly, making Max open his eyes to look at you. You felt your heart clench at the sad look on his face. “I love you Max, and I know you love me but-“

“But?” He asked softly, moving to sit up properly. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and watched your through thick lashes. You took a deep breath.

“But sometimes I worry I’m not what you want. I know a lot of the others wife’s and girlfriends come to every race and you know, follow you guys around the world. I would understand if you’d want that too. You’re always talking about how I should quit my job and- well I saw the pictures and I guess all my insecurities came to life and I freaked out. I’m sorry.” You reached up to swiftly wipe away a stray tear and Max frowned. He reached a hand out, waving it as to call you over. You got the hint and slid down from the chair, carefully padding across the floor to him. The second you were within reach he pulled you down in his lap and you could practically feel yourself melt into him. God you’d missed having him close.

“You are everything I want.” Max mumbled against the top of your head and you felt shivers run up your spine. You opened your mouth to answer but quickly shut it again when you felt the lump in your throat, a few tears spilling over as you blinked. Max let his arms snake even tighter around you as he heard you sniff quietly against his chest. “I love how much you value your job and I’m so proud of you for actually being able to handle both studying and working at the same time.” You felt his fingers press softly into your side as he spoke, voice hushed and gentle. “I tell the guys all the time how smart you are, how much I admire you.”

“But I’m never there for you.” You whispered and Max carefully shifted the two of you enough so that he could look down at you. His eyes flickered between yours, hand moving up to wipe your tears.

“You’re always there for me. Maybe not in person, but I always know I have you. Like you always know you have me, right?” He waited for you to nod before he continued. “I can race on my own, just like you work on your own. Whats important to me is that I get to come home to you.” He carefully picked an eyelash from your cheek as you processed his words. When he met your eyes again he offered a small smile, tilting his head slightly. “That being said, if I could I’d spend every second literally glued to your side but apparently that’s not healthy.” You laughed at that and the smile on Maxs face widened. With something between a sigh and a chuckle you dropped your forehead back against his chest.

“I’m sorry again Maxie.” You mumbled against his shirt, feeling it vibrate as he hummed.

“Don’t worry about it schatje.” He pulled you with him to lay down in the couch and it barely took a second before the two of you were comfortably entangled in each other. “Honestly, it was kind of nice seeing you that jealous. It’s an achievement from my part, without even knowing.” He joked, earning another laugh from you as you lifted your head to look at him.

“First place the first two races of the season wasn’t enough achievements for you?”

The grin almost took up Maxs whole face and you giggled at the proud twinkle in his eyes. Before he had time to say something that would have you slap him, you leaned in to press your lips against his instead.

Max was home and everything was alright.

~~~~

Tagging ppl who asked for pt2 <333

@lpab @aexitizen-ln4 @buttfug213 @sxcretricciardo @hadthemapplebottomjeans @sunny44 @phantomxoxo @sunnyfunnydemon

[bagerfluff]

Nico Di Angelo x Will Solace x Son of Chaos reader?

AN: Thank you for requesting and I hope you like this. I also took the liberty of picking my own prompt since you didn't give me one so I hope you are okay with that. It is perfectly okay to not give a request without a prompt but that just means I pick one myself.

Chaos Follows You, But We Don't Care

Nico di Angelo x Will Solace x Son of Chaos Reader

Prompt - Angry Confessions

You didn't know what you were doing.

You were currently sitting on a high branch in a tree. You had ran here after the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you. You've been here for a couple hours and you were still scared and embarrassed.

You want to know what happened?

You might have confessed to your two closest best friends. Nico and Will. They were your friends since you first came to camp. You've been friends with them for years. And you've had a crush on the both of them for as long.

You always knew you liked guys and that you were Polyamorous, but why did you have to fall in love with both of them. It was even worse when they told you that they were dating. It made you feel like a third wheel.

It hurt.

But you couldn't tell them; they didn't love you like you loved them. So you kept it hidden. No matter how much it hurt. Watching them act all lovey dovey. It made you a little sick. The pain in your heart when you watched them.

You couldn't even describe it.

So one day when you were hanging out with them at the beach, the sun beating down on your skin. The sounds of the crashing waves. The whispers of Nico and Will. It was pretty shitty. You were sitting a few feet to their left.

They weren't even talking to you. They were your friends, but they were too distracted with each other. You started to get angry and you yelled. You stood up and yelled at the two boys about how you loved them. But how it hurt that they didn't love you back and how they ignored you.

After you were done yelling you realized what you had said you had ran. You took one look and Nico's shocked face and Will's sad one and ran. You ran, even when you heard Will calling for you, you ran till you found this tree and climbed up it.

You've been here ever since.

You didn't want to go back. You didn't want to face Nico and Will. You didn't want them to have to tell you that they didn't love you like that. You didn't want them to tell you that you couldn't be their friends any more. So you stayed here.

Even when you heard the dinner bell you didn't move. You were fine. Though you were hungry you didn't move. You felt like crying. You blew it. You were going to lose your only friends. You made chaos. You did what every one you would do.

You were a son of Chaos. Her name said what she did just fine. That's why people were never your friends. Even before you knew you were a demigod, you made chaos. Everywhere you went chaos followed like a lost puppy.

You always made a mess of things and added stress to everyone's day. You never meant to, you were a kid. But people didn't know that. They thought you did it on purpose. Even when you found out you were a demigod.

People were still wary of you.

Nobody talked to you, nobody went near you. You tried to stop the chaos you made. You tried to stop your powers. You had the powers to cause chaos from nothing. But that never worked. Chaos was all that you knew and you were fine with it.

That was until you met Nico and Will.

Since there was no cabin for you they just placed you in Hermes. But since the Hermes kids didn't like that a claimed kid was with them, plus you made lots of chaos that they didn't like. Chiron had placed you in Hades cabin. Nico was rarely there and it was away from everyone.

So you met Nico first. He knew what it was like to be an outcast. He talked to you and he didn't mind when you made chaos. He even helped you control it. Nico was kind and understanding. He was a nice person to talk to when you needed someone to listen for a bit.

Nico was fun to hang out with. You both were outcasts so you two got along well. You both scared the shit out of campers. Especially new campers that saw the two of you leaning or sitting by a tree in the shadows.

Then you met Will. Some people decided that it would be fun to hurt you. They would try a little harder to knock you down during sword practice. People would miss fire really close to you during target practice. So every once and a while you would show up at the infirmary with a new bruise or cut.

Will would be the one who would patch you up most of the time. He said that he heard about you from Nico because they were friends. That might have made you blush. So you and Will got to talking since Nico was friends with you both.

Will was really nice and he really cared about his friends. Will was like a ray of sunshine. He brightened up your day whenever you see him. Especially when you walk into of the infirmary. Since you were all friends you started to hang out with the both of them.

It was hard since Nico was rarely at Camp Half-Blood and Will always worked but you guys managed it. Some of your best memories were with the both of them. They were your best and only friends. You loved them more then anything.

Now you were going to lose them.

Tears started to fall out of your eyes and onto your lap. You tried to stop them but they were coming whether you liked it or not. You started to quietly sob and you brought your knees to your chest. You wrapped your arms around your legs and placed your head on top of them.

You cried onto your knees but you stopped when you heard a twig snap. You glanced down to see Nico and Will looking around. Why were they here? Were they looking for you? You stayed quiet. You didn't want them to find you. You weren't ready for them to break the news to you.

You weren't ready to lose the ones you loved.

Unfortunately that didn't last long because Nico looked up and saw you in the tree. You and Nico held eye contact until Nico grabbed Will's hand and pointed up at you. Will looked at Nico for a second before following Nico's finger up to you.

Nico and Will looked at you while you looked at them. The boys on the ground looked at each other. "Hey Y/n? Do you want to come down?" Will asked. Will was always better at calming your nerves. He knew what to say to calm you down. Nico tried but it never really worked.

But it was the thought that counted.

"N-no", you said with a wavering voice. You didn't want to talk but you knew you had too. "Okay. we'll wait", Will yelled up and you watched as Nico and Will walked over to the base of the tree and sat down. You could tell that they were talking to each other but you couldn't hear them.

You needed to talk to them. You needed to bite the bullet and get this over with. Though the thought of that made more tears slip out of your eyes. You wiped them away and started to make your way down the tree. It took a bit but before you knew it you were standing in front of Nico and Will.

Nico looked a little scared while Will still looked sad. You sat down criss cross in front of them and stared at them. None of you spoke. You were scared and something told you that they were too. "Do you know why we're here Y/n", Will asked.

You knew but you didn't want to say it so you nodded. "We're not mad Y/n", Nico said. It was the first time he had spoke and you could tell from his voice that Nico was scared. "In fact we wanted to tell you something", Will said.

This was it.

You were about to lose your friends. You got ready to run away after they said it. You placed your hands on the ground and closed your eyes. You couldn't look at them while they did this. You heard more whispering and heard moving. Then you felt something touch both of your cheeks.

It felt like a kiss.

You vaguely remember your father placing a kiss on your cheek before he left for work. You opened your eyes and looked at Nico and Will with a shocked expression. They were now sitting a foot in front of you. They both had a smile on their face. Will's was bigger Nico's was bigger but they both looked really happy.

"Wha-", you tried to ask what happened but Will and Nico both spoke, cutting you off. "We like you too". You were so happy and shocked, and still a little sad. This was so much that you started to cry again. You didn't know why but you did.

Nico and Wil got a little scared but you were quick to ease their worries. "No I'm fine I'm just", you didn't even know what to say. Will smiled again and pulled you and Nico into a hug. You and Nico were shocked but you both hugged back.

They liked you back. You were so happy. Will pulled away and looked at you, "we're sorry for making you feel like that". Will was referring to when you were scared and how you felt when you left them. "It's fine, as long as I get a kiss as an apology", you smiled at the both of them.

Will let out a little laugh but kissed you any way. You smiled, it was quick because you heard Nico's grumble. You pulled away and kissed Nico too. "Does this mean were dating?" You asked and Nico rolled his eyes. "yes Y/n, we are all boyfriends", you smiled again.

Nico and Will loved you, chaos and all.

[rafedaddy01]

Part 2 for stalker

Y/n has spend the last few days just wanting to feel rafes thick length inside of her again

So a few days later his wife is taking longer than usual at work

Y/n thinks he is asleep

But he is wakes up when she pulls his d out of his boxershorts

but he thinks y/n is his wife

So hes just like :"You really missed me that much at work"

And he starts ramming inside of her

Y/n begging him to go harder to spank her

Which is weird to rafe cause his wife doesnt like it rough normaly but he does

Still he is c mming inside of her and not pulling out

Him falling asleep d still inside of her

Stalker - part 2

Summary: you are 18 years old and obsessed with Rafe Cameron - so you stalk him.

Pairing: 18yr!reader x Older!Rafe

18+, no minors

Warnings: stalking, dark content, smut, sorta noncon, (reader forces herself on rafe but he thinks it’s his wife), unprotected sex, p in v

What you read is up to you and you only you are responsible for what you come across and what you decide to keep reading despite the warnings. Please be respectful to my writing and all the other writes you come across in this community thank you

You didn’t think it would happen again. You didn’t plan on it happening again. But when you couldn’t sleep, dreaming of rafe fucking you, you knew you needed it to happen again.

So that’s how you found yourself standing inside his room again, peering over his body like some kind of psycho.

Watching him breathe as he slept.

You noticed his wife wasn’t here yet. Probably at work, or at least on her way home from work.

And by your stalking tendencies, you memorized the route she takes home from work, it’s usually the scenic one, which takes hers about 30-40 minutes to get home. So you had plenty of time.

You stripped fully naked and climbed on top of him.

Pulling his boxers down, but your breath hitched when two strong hands wrap around your wrists.

Your heart picks up pace, your breath shakes as you muster the courage to look up and accept your defeat.

“Mmm, hi honey. Missed me?” Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. Was this some sort of sick game?

“Was work stressful?” Rafes voice is groggy and you notice his eyes aren’t fully opened yet, he’s still half asleep.

“Mmh” you mumble, playing along. You continued pushing his boxers down until he was fully erect and presenting himself to you. “Well go on then..” Rafe grumbled out with a satisfied smirk on his face.

You didn’t have to be told twice. Your sick fantasy was playing out perfectly. If rafe thought you were his wife then you’d damn sure play the part.

You gripped his base and stuffed him inside you. Both groaning at the feeling. “Shit baby, your really wound up. So tight-“ he grits, “must be really stressed” his fingers run up and down your hips, oddly soothing.

“Let me take care of everything” he flips you onto your back. The room is dark enough to where he can’t make out your face, so you let him maneuver you onto your back and he spreads your legs and shoves himself back inside you.

You immediately clench, gasping as his tip probes that sweet spot inside you.

His thrusts are slow, paced, not to fast and you crave more. “H-harder” you squeak out, “you sure?” He asks confused. “Yes! Please” you moan as you claw at his back.

He moves his hips faster. Rutting into you, balls slapping against your ass, “like this?” He pants against your ear. “Yes yes, oh god yes!” You moan out louder.

Rafes confused, but he doesn’t question it. He’s been asking his wife for months to try something a little tougher in the bed room, but she was never interested, so he’s just happy that ‘she’ finally agreed.

“C-can you… can you spank me, please” you mutter.

“Can i- what was that?” He laughs a little, thinking he didn’t hear correctly.

“I want you to spank me” you say it louder, screaming almost, adding a please at the end.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, baby. But I like this side of you” he flips you over, pulling your hips up and thrusting back in.

His palm snaps forward, landing on your ass and making you jolt forward as you grip the sheets. “Again” you moan into the bed.

He slaps you again, and again. Thrusting into you harder and faster.

You’re so wet, the sound is echoing in the room and the sheets are soaking.

“Honey, I’m not gonna l-last much l-longer” Rafe moans behind you.

“Cum inside me” you moan out as. this angle lets him get deeper.

His tip is in your guts as you clench around him and feel the milky warmth of him filling you up.

He falls down behind you, his dick still deep inside you.

“I love you” he kissed your temple, “thank you for that, it was amazing” he lays back down and it’s not too long before you hear his soft snores and the sound of a car door closing outside. Shit.

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover @mema10

[exhaslo]

Corruption Ch14

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship?

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

Thirty Days until D-Day

The city was welcomed with a heavy rain storm that had no end in sight. Umbrellas were no match against the fierce winds and downpour that befell the city. The poor citizens who dared to walk got drenched. It was the beginning of an already dreadful day to many.

Aaron groaned and cussed as he scurried into Alchemax, water dripping from every angle. He sighed in relief as a few of the staff members set up automatic heaters and dryers for the employees. Sometimes there were perks for working for Alchemax.

The company cared more about reputation.

Once he was dry, Aaron made sure to clock in. There, he waited for certain people. Once said people arrived, they all casually walked with each other to the elevator. As they all stood in the elevator, each person handed something small to Aaron.

"Thank you all." He whispered upon leaving with another worker.

"This is risky. Do you even know how to do it?" His coworker asked. Aaron frowned as he spotted you grabbing a file from his boss,

"I'll need to work out the details, but I have an idea." He said before smiling towards you, "(Y/N)! How have you been? Feels like forever,"

"Ah, Aaron, yes it has! Have you been busy?" You asked. Aaron couldn't stop smiling,

"You could say so. A lot of newbies trying to play games on computers has us getting rid of viruses." He said with a chuckle and glanced at the file, "What about you?"

"End of month is tomorrow. Just grabbing all of the paperwork from each department so I can file them all. So...exciting." You said with a soft sigh, "Ah! Speaking of time, I have to grab Miguel's coffee!"

"Be careful, it's pouring outside."

Aaron waved towards you as you ran off in a hurry. You were still ever so kind despite Miguel's interference.

"Still going for the boss' girl? Everyone knows that Miguel probably uses her as a stress relief." Aaron's coworker scoffed, "Ain't no way he would let anyone get that close."

"C'mon. She's his assistant. Miguel's too cold hearted to-"

"Use (Y/N)? How many times did he butt in to your flirting? To you trying to ask her out?"

"Shut up, let's just get back to work. Miguel will have what's coming to him eventually."

---------

You were shivering as you cuddled against Miguel's chest. You were in your underwear, wrapping in a thick blanket as you sat on Miguel's lap in his office. Your clothes were drying in the corner, since Miguel demanded you come up to him in a hurry.

"I told you the coffee could wait," Miguel grumbled as you sneezed.

"Y-You're grumpy...w-without it,"

"At the cost of you getting sick? It can wait. I can always send someone else to get it." Miguel said with a scoff, his arm tightening around your waist, "And you didn't even dry off downstairs."

"Y-You told me to hurry! So I climbed the window," You said with a whine, "Can't...Can't I just wear my spare clothes? This is...embarrassing."

"I've seen you naked already." Miguel said unamused then glanced towards you, "Or did the oh so powerful Spider-Woman want to get sick? To have me care for her?"

"N-No," You said with a pout.

Miguel was so mean when he wanted to be. Watching him chuckle made your heart melt. He can be as mean as he wants, just as long as you get to see him enjoy himself. Cuddling back into his chest, you inhaled, enjoying his cologne.

---------

Miguel waited for you to fall asleep before pulling up his security footage of one of the labs. Miguel had a small team of scientists handling your blood injections towards test subjects. As much as Miguel wished to be there in person, he needed to keep distracting you from the city.

Besides, none of those scientists knew what they were giving to the new test subjects. None of them would live to even tell the tale of Miguel's success.

"Sir, now conducting test subject number eight." One of the scientists spoke to the camera.

Eight.

It took eight attempts so far. There was always something wrong with something. Miguel was getting frustrated, but he had to keep going. This was the only way he could get what he wanted. This was the only way to get his dream.

"Mhpm," You whimpered in your sleep.

Pulling up his calendar, Miguel checked on your ovulation. With a roll of his eyes, Miguel noticed that you were about to start your period. It was right about now that your cramps would start to kick in. As frustrating as it was, this was needed.

By your next ovulation, Miguel will be perfect.

He will finally be able to give you what you've been waiting for.

What he's been waiting for.

But, in the meantime, Miguel had work to do. Ordering some heat pads and chocolate, Miguel made sure to take care of you during your period. You were his perfect trophy. Miguel couldn't have you down in the dumps.

----------

Twenty Days Until D-Day

Yet again, the rain did not let up. According to the forecast, it was to rain like this for the rest of the week. You were debating on swinging to work, but with this rain...no. You didn't want to end up sick. Miguel would never let you go out again.

"Hm, I need to get to work." You whispered, looking at the time.

Rubbing your arms, you let out a whine as you tried to think. Normally, Miguel would give you a ride, but today he had to arrive to work earlier than normal. Apparently his father had some meetings he wanted Miguel to go too.

"Would Miguel mind if I stay home?"

"He would," Lyla appeared, "Miguel is already showing signs of extreme stress and frustration. Without you, I can conclude that by noon, he might kill someone."

"Oh, Lyla, you jest." You chuckled lowly before stopping, "Miguel won't kill anyone."

But you knew how Miguel got when he was angry. Miguel was never too fond of his own father, especially when dragged to these meetings. Honestly, it was cute. Miguel was like a spoiled child, not wanting to do work.

Leaving your apartment, you sighed as you still wondered how you were going to get to work without getting soaked. It was still Fall in Nueva York, but it felt like winter already to you. Oh, the downside of having Spider DNA.

"Hey, (Y/N)! Need a ride?" Aaron asked, stopping his cab. You gasped, hurrying over,

"Oh! Thank you, Aaron, you're a life savor!"

"Sure," Aaron smiled as he opened the door for you. You shivered slightly when entering, thanking him again, "It's really no problem. Luck even, guess I just happen to pass your place at the right time."

"You sure did."

You hummed happily as you texted Miguel, asking if he wanted his morning coffee. As you were waiting for his reply, you glanced over at Aaron,

"So, it's been...raining a lot. Might be a colder winter than normal."

"So we have to make sure your office is a furnace." He said with a chuckle, "Getting coffee for our dictator today?"

"Ah-" You felt your cheeks flush as you just checked your phone, "Guess not. He won't let me get it when it rains like this. Hehe, Miguel does have his little soft side," You chirped.

Aaron felt his eye twitch, "It's amazing how you can still see the best in him."

"It could be because I'm his assistant?" You tried to dodge the question since no one knew about your relationship with Miguel, "Um, I think everyone just needs to give Miguel a chance. I'm sure-"

"I rather not. If he makes me his errand boy anymore, I might quit." Aaron huffed then glanced at you, "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt or be sour. We've....just been up to our necks with work."

"It's okay,"

You lowered your head, remaining silent for the rest of the ride. It was hard to express your vision of Miguel to others. Once you arrived, you thanked Aaron again for the lift and hurried inside.

--------

Aaron paid the fair and slowly made his way inside. He watched you from a distance, paying attention to your watch as Lyla appeared. Miguel was always listening to you. He always paid attention to who you were with.

A controlling bastard.

Aaron just smiled as he went to clock in, hoping that Miguel will play the petty game. The only problem about this game Aaron was playing was you getting caught in the fire. Aaron was going to have to make sure you were nowhere near Miguel when he acts.

--------

You stood in front of Miguel's large office window, staring down at the city below. Miguel was still in his meetings, sending you a text here and there about stupid little things. It made you chuckle at some of the nitpicking he was doing.

"Hehe, ew. Miguel must really be bored if he is paying attention to the food stuck in someone's teeth," You giggle.

Glancing at his seat, you bit your lower lip. Miguel was going to be a while until he returned. Stroking your fingers against the arm rest, you let out a soft sigh as you took your seat on his desk. Miguel will be waiting for you.

You had to be a good girl and take your spot.

"Don't keep me waiting too long, Miggy~"

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

Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper @jadeloverxd @daddyfroglegs @shoukanjo

[vinylfoxbooks]

July 27 - Steam | @jartylusmicrofics | wc: 1030 Implied NSFW, nothing explicit

James throws their bag down by the shoe rack as soon as they walk through the door to their flat, exhausted, before calling out to their boyfriends, “I’m home.”

“We’re in the kitchen, love.” Regulus’ sweet voice responds, and James follows it until they’re in the kitchen dining room area where Barty and Regulus are sitting around the table with plates of food in front of them. When Regulus sees them, he smiles, “Foods on the stove, serve yourself up.”

James nods and leans down to kiss both of their boyfriends, “Have you guys been waiting long?”

“We just sat down to eat.” Regulus shakes his head. James nods and quickly grabs themself some food before sitting down with Regulus and Barty, the three of them starting to eat. 

They eat in silence for a while before Barty finally hums, “You’ve been working late a lot, J. Is everything alright?”

James shrugs, “One of my coworker’s kid has gotten sick recently and so she’s not working her full shift. And since we need at least three people on the floor at all times, I’ve told her that I can cover for her until someone else can come in.”

“You know you don’t have to do that, James.” Regulus furrows his brows, “I’m sure that she can get someone else to cover for her so you don’t have to work overtime all week.” 

James shakes their head, “Doesn’t matter. My boss was telling me that since I worked so much this week that he’ll kick me out if I try to go into work tomorrow so…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Barty sneers, “Your body isn’t used to working the way that you have been so you’re stressing it out. You need to stop taking shifts for her.”

“But her kid…”

“And someone else can cover for her. If she can’t stay for her entire shift, she can talk to some of the part timers or whatever.” Regulus shakes his head, “Yes, her kid is sick, but you also have a life. You also have a family.” He gestures to himself and Barty, “You have people that you need to get home to for dinner, don’t sacrifice yourself and your time just because your coworker’s kid is sick.”

Barty nods, “You’re not the only one that she works with, other people can help out too.” 

“I guess.” 

“And I know so.” Barty pushes, “So, I say that with your day off tomorrow, you’re not doing shit. Reg and I are going to take care of you, help your body relax -- I mean, look at how tense your shoulders are -- and you’re going to fucking like it.” 

James tries to force their shoulders to relax, “I guess.” The three of them finish up dinner and get ready for bed since it’s later than they normally have dinner and James is tired. 

The next morning, James wakes up to Barty having made breakfast for them and the three of them eat in bed, cuddling and hiding in each other’s warmth in the cold flat -- James is like a walking oven all the time, Regulus is always freezing, and Barty is usually the perfect temperature so they balance each other out pretty well -- before Regulus and Barty end up pushing James into their bathroom. 

Regulus gets the water going while Barty slowly undresses James, kissing along their body whenever another piece of skin gets revealed, squeezing their ass before pulling away to undress himself. Regulus follows soon after when he’s finished putting some oils into the bath. 

Every time James is grateful for them actively looking for a flat with a jacuzzi bath that’s large enough to fit the three of them comfortably. This time they’re just as grateful when they lower themself into the bath after Barty gets in, leaning into his chest and watching as Regulus slowly climbs in after them. 

When they’re comfortable, Barty takes some massage oil that smells fucking delightful and rubs it between his hands, starting to work on James’ tense shoulders while Regulus perches himself on James’ lap, reaching for their shampoo and starting to work it into their hair. James allows their hands to roam Regulus’ body, running over his top surgery scars, up and down his arms where he lathers the shampoo into their hair, groaning at the feeling of Barty’s fingers working expertly over their muscles, his hands going lower and lower. 

The bathroom fills with steam as Barty and Regulus continue to pamper their partner, Barty massaging all of the knots and tension in Jame’s muscles until they’re practically putty in his hands while Regulus washes out the shampoo and exchanges it for conditioner, fingers deftly massaging their scalp. James can almost feel themself falling asleep under the soft stimulation. 

At one point, when Regulus is finished cleaning up James’ body and hair, he turns on the jets in the bathtub, which adds to the experience tenfold. Shortly after that, Barty finishes up with his working over of James’ muscles and lets his hands slip down James’ sides, reaching towards their crotch with one hand and allowing the other to reach out to Regulus and pull him closer to their bodies. “And now,” he mutters, voice low, “The second phase of our plan begins.” Then he leans forward and starts kissing at James’ neck, their head falling back against his shoulder. 

When the three of them get out of the bathtub, their fingers are wrinkly and they’re all thoroughly satiated. James offers to make them all lunch but they’re almost too tired to stand up from where they’ve all settled back on their bed, so Barty ends up standing up and preparing something for them. 

When he returns, it’s with some food on plates and he settles down once again, handing out the plates, “How’re you feeling now, J?”

James hums, half asleep but accepting the food, “Good, thanks you two.”

“It’s no problem at all, love.” Regulus says, reaching up to run his hand through James’ slightly damp hair, “Now, are you going to be accepting any more long shifts just because your coworker asks you to?” James shakes their head so he hums, “Good.”

[luveline]

omg jade!! this just popped into my head but do u think u could write smth ab roan gettin a tinyyyy bit jealous when reader gives attention to another kid? pls feel free to ignore if u dont like it hehe j smth i thought ab! ily!!

this request is from october I'm so sorry it took this long, thank you for requesting, ily ♥︎ fem!reader

Eddie’s friend Gareth has two kids. 

Twin boys, they hang off of him one to each arm and might be the cutest kids you’ve ever seen that aren’t Roan. One is much, much cuddlier than the other, and when he climbs into your lap you really, honestly can’t say no. He’s practically a baby still, two and half years old and chatty without real words. 

When he strokes your face with your hand, you look over his little head at Eddie where he’s sitting at the same picnic table and pout at him. 

“You want one?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. 

You rub the back of the baby’s head, hand stroking over fine, sandy brown hair. “Stop it.”

It’s a very cheeky joke considering you and Eddie haven’t been together that long. And besides, you think he might have his work cut out for him with his own baby girl, he doesn’t need another right now. 

Said baby girl has taken to holding your hand basically everywhere you go. You adore Roan and if she wants to hold your hand whenever she sees you, it’s an improvement from her wanting to always be carried. She’d been holding your hand five minutes ago before she proclaimed her need to pee. 

She emerges from the house and into the garden with her little hands dripping and Eddie beckons her over. You can hear their hushed conversation as he wipes her hands dry with his t-shirt. 

“Did you flush?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah, daddy.”

“Did you wipe the right way?”

She looks a little embarrassed, and then that embarrassment gets eaten by Munson rage. “Yeah, dad.”

Eddie only laughs. “Okay, alright. Thanks, mini me. Kiss for a job well done?”

Roan gives him a quick kiss and then throws her gaze to you. You watch what looks to be excitement shrivel up and dissolve into dust, her eyes widened and then pinched with hurt. 

“What’s the matter, baby?” you ask, hand splayed over the small back of your newfound charge. 

She doesn’t talk to you. Roan turns on her heel and climbs straight into Eddie’s lap, small thighs either side of his waist and face falling into his t-shirt. He’s as confused as you are, dropping his face down closer to hers and murmuring something too quiet to hear. Her tiny black bunches bounce as she shakes her head. 

He tucks a loose curl behind her ear. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he says gently. 

Roan pushes her face deeper into his chest and sighs. 

You’re at that stage of knowing and loving Roan where all of her upsets still feel huge to you. Eddie, having experienced her change in emotion every single day of her life, is much less affected. Not any less loving, or any less caring, but he doesn’t get so stressed. He pats her little back for what’s left of his friends garden party, and you say goodbye to your clinger when it’s time for their nap. 

“Let’s go home, should we?” Eddie asks gently, forehead tapped against Roan’s. 

She grumbles irritably and Eddie picks her up, her face quickly hidden in his neck. When all the goodbyes have been exchanged you follow him back to his car, nibbling your lip intermittently. Roan isn’t prone to being quiet like this unless she’s sick or tired, and it’s hours from bedtime, so she has to be sick. 

"She's not warm," Eddie tells you. 

"Do you feel sick?" you ask her anyways, not because you don't believe Eddie's capabilities as a dad, but for your own peace of mind — you don't like worrying about Roan. It gnaws at you. 

She doesn't speak to you. In fact, she doesn't speak to you for hours. Not when you get home, not at the dinner table, and not during cartoons before bed. She doesn't hug you goodnight, and that's when Eddie gives a knowing, amused snort. 

"What?" you ask, pulling your gaze from her retreating back to him. "What's funny? Your baby doesn't like me anymore, this is the opposite of funny." 

"She's just jealous." You scoot away from him. He pulls you back in with an eye roll. "Not of me, dork. Of Henry." 

You blink. "Gareth's kid?" 

"Yes." His head lolls lazily to the side, and his smile is more a smirk than anything else. "Come on, sweet thing. Use your brain." 

You would glare at him if the cogs weren't turning in your head. "Well, what do I do?" You stand up. "I gotta say sorry." 

Eddie catches your hand. When you look at him, he shakes his head. You love and hate how smug he is as a dad, how he simultaneously knows all the answers but has to call Wayne at least once a week with some whacky question. 

"What?" 

"You don't have to say sorry to her for hugging another kid, just… explain that she's your favourite." 

"She is my favourite." 

"I know."

You look down the hall and then back to your boyfriend. "Will you come with me?" 

"Always." Eddie gets up, and you hold hands all the way to Roan's bedroom, though the slim hallway makes it difficult. 

He knocks on Roan's door. "Babe?"

"Daddy?" 

He pushes open the door. Roan isn't sleeping, she usually doesn't until Eddie comes in to tuck her into bed and kiss her goodnight. She's sitting by the bottom of the bed with her big paper sketchbook and a crayon in hand, but she hasn't drawn anything yet. She drops the crayon and looks up at you both suspiciously. 

"Y/N wants to talk to you. Do you wanna sit in the bed together?" he asks her. 

She nods. Too soon, Eddie's pulling his hand out of yours and scooping Roan up deftly, and he climbs into her tiny princess bed with little hesitation. She looks small in his lap. 

You sit gingerly opposite. 

Eddie gives you an encouraging smile, worming his thumb into the palm of her hand. 

"Roan," you start, awkward because Eddie's listening, hesitant because you don't wanna mess this up. You decide to go for the straightforward approach. "You know you're my favourite girl, yeah?" 

She glares at you. 

Not what you'd been expecting. 

You try again. "I… I love you very much. Like, so much it squeezes out of me when you hug me, and you gotta push it all back in for me." 

An inkling of a smile appears. She loves that game, and she's stronger than she looks. It really does feel like she's squeezing all the air from your lungs sometimes. 

"And-" You continue, prompted by Eddie's voracious nodding. "And even though sometimes other boys and girls want to give me a hug, none of them ever give me hugs as good as yours. I just want you to know that your hugs are my favourite." 

Roan leans back heavy into Eddie's chest. He kisses the top of her head unthinking, lips hidden by her dark brown curls. 

Then, his lips move down to her ear, and he says, in his professional parenting voice that's all soft and warm, "I know you were unhappy when Y/N gave baby Henry a cuddle, but just 'cause she gave him a hug doesn't mean she can't give you one too. And ignoring people isn't something we like to do, is it?" 

Roan frowns at him. "But she was holding my hand first." 

"I know. You gotta share her, though. Like right now, you're in my lap, and Y/N isn't complaining. Maybe she wants to be in my lap, or maybe she wants you in hers." 

You take the queue. "I miss my goodnight hug," you say, hands moving forward. You pout at her. "Please, Roan."

You wouldn't force Roan into a hug if you didn't think she wanted one. You're right, thankfully, and Roan stands up, wobbling across the mattress in her pink pyjamas and straight into your chest. 

You curl your arms around her too tight and send Eddie your most thankful, loving look as Roan snuggles your neck. 

"Missed you, princess," you murmur, hand creeping up her back to play in the soft ends of her hair. 

You hug. Roan turns to mush, boneless, limp, every word for it, putty in your hands. Eddie had told you once that he thinks she likes your hugs because you're so soft. 

He wiggles his eyebrows. "Think about it," he whispers. "You could have two of her. Three." 

You close your eyes so you don't have to look at him, flustered but so happy you end up laughing. 

"Kiss?" you ask Roan. 

She nods. You cover her in kisses, every inch of her perfect face. 

[webslingingslasher]

Would you write dad!tom?

i’ve never written for tom before, lemme know if this is good pls. also, idk why and idk what the fuck else he be doing but i don’t picture tom as famous in this? ps. why do i want to do this again but month by month

warnings: talk of vomit, talks of pee and a small dash of smuttiness if you look hard enough.

“What does it say?”

Tom is resting against the doorframe with this thumbnail in his mouth, he’s nibbling while trying to turn his neck to watch where you're sitting. He can barely see you, just a peek of your face and a hand between your legs.

You laugh at his excitement, “I’m still peeing!”

He whines, “well, pinch it off! I’m sure there’s enough on it!”

Resting one hand on the wall you brace yourself, you have just enough energy to place the test on the back of the toilet before holding your head in your hand, swaying lightly with the wave of nausea that hits.

“Fuck, I’m gonna puke.”

In an instant Tom pulls himself from the door and places his hand on the back of your head, lightly petting at your hair, his other hand flushes the toilet, you shouldn’t puke where you had just peed.

“Feel like puke or gonna puke?”

You nearly hit the wall with your shoulder, the only thing stopping it was Tom’s quick movement so his hand protected the hit. You’re trying to fight off the gag, your mouth is filling with saliva, you know it’s about to happen, each time you swallow the thick build up it makes another gag climb. You need water, but moving even a millimeter, will have repercussions, you can’t even speak to him without losing it.

You cough a gag, it’s no longer suppressing it, it’s coming, now.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Tom rushes pulling at your shoulder to get you to get on your knees in front of the toilet.

“Can’t, I can’t,” You gag one more time, he only has a second. Tom pulls away to dash for the small basket you keep near the sink, you instantly hold it to your chest when he reaches it out. “Hair,” you whimper, Tom’s hand wraps your hair around his fist, and like you knew everything was in place, you let loose.

Tom praises and shushes while you cough and expel into the trash can. He’s used to this by now, it’s been happening for two weeks. At first it was unnoticed, usually gagging and nauseous when you wake up, you chalked it up to something not settling or stress from work, but then it got increasingly worse and happened throughout the day.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” You cough the words between gags, it’s like clock work. You only puke three times, then it’s normal.

Tom’s counted, he knows you’re done. He grabs the trashcan without looking at it, he knows it makes you feel bad. “Water?” He ignores the apologies, he’s said more than enough times that you had nothing to say sorry for, you also had nothing to thank him for, but you still said it everytime.

It’s like you’re gasping for air, the bile always makes your throat feel raw. It’s happening so often you’ve started sounding raspy. You nod but there was no need, he’s already gone to grab your water bottle. When Tom returns he flips the straw up for you and holds it out, you lean forward to gulp it down, your arms feel like lead and you pull back and close your eyes.

He was somehow able to toss and change the bag in the time he grabbed your water, “done?” Your eyes are closed and you lean your head against the wall, a hand rests over your stomach and you nod. Tom presses a kiss to your temple, it makes you blink your eyes open at him. You grab at his hand and place a kiss on the backside, “sorry.”

Tom’s nose scrunches, “in sickness and in health, right? You said ‘em too.”

You laugh, “doesn’t mean it’s not gross.”

“Love, trust me. There is quite literally, nothing you could do that would gross me out. I am so utterly in love with you even your puke sparkles.”

Your thumb rubs over the ring on his left, ring finger. A commitment for him to promise he’d love your puke forever. You’re nervous about the test behind you, but not anxious. You’re ready, Tom’s ready, you both agreed last year, after being married for three, that birth control could stop and whatever happened, happened. And nothing did for almost an entire year, not even the puking caught your attention.

It wasn’t until you were talking to a coworker, you had let it slip that you’ve had excruciating headaches almost everyday for the past week, and nothing helped; not even medicine. Her name was Sharon, she was the work mom, everyone had her back because she had theirs, often bringing in baked goods and offering a lending ear, also a supply stash of medicine which is why you were talking to her this morning, that damn headache from yesterday stayed.

Sharon sipped her coffee, “have you been tired lately?”

You groan, “oh god, you have no idea. I’m telling you this in confidence, but for the past week I’ve been going home on my lunch break and taking a nap.” Sharon gets a small grin, she hides it behind her coffee mug, “Don’t alert HR on me, dear. But, have your breasts been really tender?”

You pull a thinking face, you almost wanted to rub them right then to verify. Then you remember a few nights ago when you were in bed with Tom you shied away from him when he grabbed your chest. When you were on top he always played with your tits, but that time it almost hurt when he squeezed them and when he pinched your nipple the shock that jolted through you made you punch his chest. You both had a deer in headlights look, you couldn’t believe you had done that, he couldn’t believe you had either.

“I’m sorry! It was a knee jerk reaction!” You hid your mouth behind your hands, mostly shocked, also because his surprised look was funny and you needed to hide your smile until you saw his reaction.

“You wounded me! In the middle of battle, no less!”

You snort then grind back down on him, he groans and you lower your voice. “I’m sorry, it like, hurt when you did that. It caught me off guard.” Tom’s face scrunches, “hurt?” You pull at his hands to rest over your chest, each hand holds a breast and you use your own to direct his movements. As you squeezed, anything past a tender touch made you hiss. Tom caught on, he raised his hands under your hold and tried himself. “Like this?”

And sure, maybe when you shower and run over them quickly it’s a little sore.

You rub at your temple and blink in the harsh lighting, “yeah, you could say that.”

Sharon glowed, “diagnosis? Take a test, and I hope it’s the answer you want.”

“A test?” Realization hit, you made an ‘oh shit’ face, “you think I’m pregnant?”

Mamma Sharon giggles, “been through it four times, it always started the same. I’d guess it’s been about a month since it started?”

“Tomorrow will be four weeks, holy shit. Tom is gonna be so happy, oh god. Oh god, Sharon, I might be pregnant, holy shit. I wanted this, why am I freaking out?”

Sharon fans your face with her hands, “It’s scary! You’re doing a new thing, your entire life is going to change. But, sweetie, you chose a good person to navigate it with, Tom seems like the exact kind of person to do this with.”

“He is, he really is.”

So, after work you stopped at a drug store and got a pregnancy test, and a bottle of sparkling grape juice. It nearly killed you having to wait on Tom to get home, but you did it, and even waited until after dinner. After you both cleaned the kitchen you followed him to the couch and sat across his lap, he watched the TV behind you and rubbed at your legs, it was something so domestic about your life with him that having a baby right now felt both rushed and timely.

You rested your head against his shoulder and nuzzled in, a message he understood as ‘I’m about to speak, so listen please,’ “I talked to doctor Sharon today at the office,” Tom listens but is still focused on the TV, “and you know how lately I’ve been puky and I’ve had headaches and been super tired and you’ve been banished from touching my boobs?”

Tom looks over at you, his hands squeeze your calf, “yeah,” You push a curl hanging over his forehead back, it bounces right back, “well, I’ve been diagnosed,” his interest is piqued, he knows how awful you’ve been feeling, you both were thinking it was a bug or a new allergy. Tom’s eyebrows raise, he’s waiting for you to go on.

“I’ve been diagnosed with…” You drumroll on his forearm with your pointer fingers, “pregnancy.”

Tom’s jaw drops, “pregnancy?”

“Pregnancy.”

“No, but like, pregnancy?”

You shake your fists in the air, “pregnancy!”

Tom pushes you back by your hips to look at your face, “pregnant, pregnant, right?”

You’re ecstatic, he’s ecstatic. It’s how it should be.

“I got a test, I wanted to do it with you though.”

Tom looks around for a drink, there’s a cup of tea and a water bottle on the coffee table. “Do you have to pee? Do you need something, I have tea, do you want tea?” You wince at him, “sorry, lover boy, any chance you can wait til morning?”

Tom’s jaw drops, you can’t drop that bomb then expect him to put it on pause.

“It’s recommended, I promise! The pregnancy hormone is more active in the morning, they said for the most accurate results it should be the first pee of the morning!”

Tom throws his head back with a groan, “but can’t we do one tomorrow too? Don’t tell me you aren’t dying to know!”

You chew on your bottom lip, “after this episode.”

Sure enough before the first credits rolled Tom was pulling you up the stairs, pregnancy test in your hands. He stayed to watch the process, which takes you to now, puky and apologetic.

“We’re going to be together forever, you know that right?”

Tom pets your hair down, “I’d hope so.”

You shake your head, you’re not joking now. “No, I mean like, shit happens you know? And forever is a long time, but now this? Tom, if we're pregnant, that’s it. No matter what happens, we have a kid and we’re wrapped in each other's lives forever.”

Tom pushes his head down to kiss your forehead, his lips murmur where he’s kissed, “doesn’t sound as scary as you’re making it.”

Your lip wobbles, “you mean it?”

Tom rolls his eyes, “what did I tell you again? Oh, that’s right, I do.”

“Don’t ever regret saying them either.”

He scoffs and mutters ‘as if that’s possible,’ under his breath.

You use his arm as support as you pull yourself up and are able to finally put your underwear back on. You grab the test but cover the results with your hand, and walk out to the bedroom. The bed bounces when you throw yourself down, Tom takes a seat next to you.

You blow out a shaky breath, “ready?”

Tom laces his fingers between yours, “ready.”

You hold it up in the light, you both squint looking for the result, your breath catches and Tom wraps a hand around your shoulders.

“Tom, is that a double line?”

“Baby, that’s a double line.”

You hold it an inch from your face, you expect the result to disappear when you blink. You’ve never imagined seeing a positive test, there was no possible way you could be pregnant. It’s shell shock, you knew it was possible, yet you didn’t.

“Tom, I,” You’re at a loss for words, you can’t believe it.

“Baby, you’re pregnant. We’re having a baby.”

His words hit you like bricks.

You sob, happy tears, you both have been wanting this for a year, talking about it for longer.

“Holy shit, babe, holy shit.”

Tom jumps up to wrap his arms around you, even he couldn’t fight the tears. “We’re pregnant, oh my god, baby. You did it.” Your arms were just as tight around him, “Tommy, we did it.”

[sanyu-thewitch05]

1000 follower special!

So I decided to make this huge headcanon post for Yandere ocs(since my Yandere stories are part of why I got so many followers). I’ll probably do a part 2 later. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read my pieces of writing.

Yandere Jock🏈🏉

Brad is horny. He will literally beg you to let him have sex with you.

Luckily he does have every contraceptive and pregnancy prevention medicine possible.

A new oral birth control comes on the market, he gets it for you. You want to get an IUD? He makes an appointment.

As you get further in the relationship, eventually he will get therapy for himself because he got sick of seeing you so embarrassed whenever he tries to fight other guys who look at you back in your college years.

Thankfully said therapy changes him for the better.

Pre-therapy Brad would’ve been happy that you got pregnant and wouldn’t even think of an abortion.

But with therapy, when Brad finds out you’re pregnant, he immediately asks if you’re ok, do you want the baby(Cus if you don’t he’ll pay for the abortion and take care of you afterwards)

If you choose to keep the baby, he’s putting his marriage Pinterest boards to use.

If you thought bridezillas were bad, then you haven’t met Bradzilla.

“I can’t stress my fiancé out with all the wedding stuff! She’s pregnant and I can’t risk her and babies health!”

He makes sure everything is perfect and even buys a new house for you and the baby.

Brad waits on you hand and foot. Literally watches all the Instagram reels for baby hacks.

Yandere Vampire🦇🩸

Nos feels guilty about the wedding.

He literally tries to make up with your grandma and family.

Let’s just say you had to pull your grandma and every male relative off Nos.

Nos’s family treats you wonderfully.

They even help you through your vampire pregnancy.

Meanwhile, your family eventually accepts Nos and tolerated what he did to you.

Nos is rich af and he treats you like he is.

Even though you’re married, you’re going on midnight dates.

You are wined and dined.

He even cooks meals for you

Nos makes strawberry sorbet mixed with blood of your choice.

He is definitely a kiss man. Literally loves kissing your cheeks and neck.

Nos does apologize for scaring every boy away from you. You had to understand it was so he could marry you and your village wouldn’t be destroyed silly-

Guides you through being a vampire and even helps you get powerful enough to be in the sunlight.

Which pleases you greatly because you loved your village’s summers.

Yandere Werewolf 🌕🐺

The switch between Aaron’s personality when he’s a human vs a werewolf is like night and day.

The minute Aaron goes back to normal and sees you, NAKED, in his cave….oh boy…

“Aaaahh! I’m sorry I glanced at your body!”

You almost start to miss the werewolf him. Almost.

Aaron’s semi traditional values kick in and he immediately proposes and starts wedding plans so it will look like the baby was conceived AND born in wedlock.

The good side is that with marrying Aaron you get the amazing villa out in the French countryside surrounded by beautiful flowers.

The bad side is that Aaron has free reign to control his werewolf abilities.

And that’s when his shy personality becomes more dominant.

I mean you find it hot, but the amount of body hair he sheds makes you irritated.

At least he takes good care of his hair and washes it. And he goes through the effort of waxing and shaving his legs just to appease you(take that body standards!)

He gets even hotter when living in the woods because he lets his hair grow out.

Aaron even lets you pull his back length hair during sex.

He’s also a great father. He will chase and play with pups while you rest up.

Your children love their papa and mama. Aaron lets the pups climb on his hair.

Aaron also teaches you how to breastfeed, change diapers, etc.

He actually took a parenting class before he got bit.

Aaron also took care of you during the pregnancy. Literally snuggled, gave you food, took you to appointments, fed you prenatal vitamins. He even acted your body pillow.

[verdemoun]

sad macsummers hours where one of them gets sick and has to stay in hospital but will like recover becuz im watching my neighbour totoro where the mum is in hospital and idk it made me sad

I've been toying with the idea of the gang having some lingering complications from how they died so this is perfect.

Lenny suffers a spontaneous pneumothorax that is further complicated by post-surgical infection. Not only is Lenny being in hospital an ordeal on Sean in itself, but due to chest tubes, oxygen and other supportive medication Lenny can't talk to him.

This is a problem because 1. Sean is a nervous yapper and is slowly going insane not being able to have Lenny respond 2. Sean just doesn't understand the doctors. The staff are obviously geniuses and Lenny is getting the best care but they cannot explain what they are doing in a way Sean understands and Lenny can't talk to translate for him.

Sean feels as helpless as he would be in a different country to Lenny. He doesn't know what's happening, he doesn't know how to help, all he knows is that Lenny was meant to be going home after 6 days, and they were both smiling and laughing, and then Lenny was sick and struggling to breathe again and throwing up and feverish and sicker than he was when he first went in.

He does not leave Lenny's bedside, and the first thing Lenny says when he has the tubes removed for a second time and can talk again is 'I love you but you need a shower'.

Sean also holds Lenny's hand so tightly he almost breaks it.

Lenny tries his hardest to pretend everything is okay for Sean's sake because Sean is ruined seeing Lenny get sick, being afraid he's going to lose him because for Sean it's the first time he's gone through the grief of seeing Lenny so close to death, but eventually Lenny has to break too.

Sean, after weeks of feeling helpless, at least knows how to comfort his husband while Lenny goes through the terror of it sinking in that life is as fragile as it was in canon era.

--

Plus some canon era for a different flavor

Sean isn't okay when he is brought back to Horseshoe Overlook. Lenny helps him off Boaz and immediately knows it's not going to be bouncing back to normal Sean, despite the grin Sean has. He's running on the relief of being rescued and the adrenaline of being held upside down helpless during a shootout.

His arms are too thin. His skin is unnaturally warm to the touch. It takes every puppy-eyed boyfriend stare just to get Sean to sit down long enough to process the number of injuries. To notice the missing tooth and immediately force himself to stop staring at it. The healing black eye.

Second the adrenaline wears off, the pain sets in. The fever climbs. As much as horseback would be faster Lenny insists on the mercy of taking the wagon, with Sean laying in the back instead of trying to sit upright.

None of them are potentially fatal injuries. Sean is going to be okay, Lenny knows that. Sean knows that. But it's more than the gang can handle right now. Lenny is relieved to know Sean will be in the safety of a doctor's office.

Except Sean loathes doctors. And it doesn't help that the doctor in Valentine just seems like a shifty, nervous, feller. The number one thing Sean needs is rest and sleep, and Lenny knows Sean struggles enough sleeping without being in the creepy attic clinic of a doctor's office.

When he's asleep, Lenny lets it sink in how terrible Sean looks. If it wasn't for how thin he is, and how obvious the rise and fall of his chest is in his sleep, Sean would look like a corpse. He doesn't want waking up alone to be the final stress Sean can't cope with.

So begins weeks of battling Sean on Sean's behalf. Sean wants to be fine, he wants to be back with the gang and he does not want to be laying in bed all day being told to stay still so he can recover when the process seems heinously slow regardless.

That doesn't mean Sean has much fight. He puts so much energy into pretending to be fine, and arguing he's ready to go home to the gang and back to robbing, he sleeps 18 hours a day. Or sometimes he wakes up and admits his entire body hurts, and he's too nauseous to eat, and just looks out the dirty little window miserable.

Lenny stays as often as he can. Constantly, after catching Sean having snuck out and staggered to the bar before passing out on a stool. They play cards on goods days, Lenny reads to him on bad. The gang move on to Clemen's Point, but Lenny stays behind. Sean isn't ready.

Sean regains his strength on cute little dates walking around Valentine, getting excited over candy bars at the grocery store and beef stew at the saloon that they both think is better than Pearson's cooking. Sean's burned feet result in a bone infection, with the pain in his ankle lasting months. He uses a cane on bad days, and then realizes he quite likes using it as a weapon even on his good days.

By the time Sean is well enough to head back to camp, he actually dreads the lifestyle. He's gotten used to a physical bed, and the sheer concept of privacy. He likes having Lenny to himself too much - fake coughs and jokes he has an infection and needs to stay a few more nights. They both miss the gang too much to leave, but the thought crosses their minds.

Then - they get to Clemen's Point and there's no one there. No note. Just a quickly dug grave with no name. They realize they're on their own. They're alone, except for each other, no way to find the gang on their own. They're free. They're nobodies enough to slip through Tall Trees. They go back out West. They live happily ever after.

[raisinghellonstarbug]

James Acaster x Reader - a tinsy bit of drabble... (accidentally angsty, oops!!)

Title: Best Person in the World

Basic plot: It's a Friday and it's your usual weekly coffee evening with your best friend James. James has some big news to share with you. You're not sure how to take it...

Tags: James Acaster x reader, fluff, angst, coffee shop, London, winter, heartbreak, unrequited love, but is it really unrequited?, almost lovers, best friends, mention of Ed Gamble

Word count: 2238

Work had been quite stressful, but no more than usual. Quite frankly you were just glad to get yourself out of there so you could head over to your favourite coffee stop on the corner and meet your friend, albeit, stupidly handsome friend James.

You, all rushed off your feet and almost panting from practically sprinting your way from the cold and drizzly rain, step in through the door of the coffee place and find your favourite seat where you knew that James would probably already be there.

He was there in fact and the sight of him alone gave you the butterflies. You just couldn't help feeling starry eyed every time - and incidentally, never about his fame of being on the telly. Just James himself. A friend for 5 years now.

Ed introduced you. It was a spur of the moment. You have been smitten ever since. You didn’t have the guts to tell him.

But there were moments when you wondered. Could he feel the same? It was too hard to confront such a thing.

It didn't occur to you straight away, not when you first met him. But over time, it built up bit by bit. Like laying it out - brick by brick. You were basically in love with him and you didn't know what to do about it.

And he is greeting you as he always does, with a goofy smile and a little cuddle and no matter how many times you have done it, the feeling still makes you swoon. How were you going to get over this? You wondered if it would just be easier rather than having to tell him how you felt.

You were out of your trance when he let go and gestured to you to sit.

"So, Y/n are you having your usual yeah or something else? It's my turn to treat us," he sat down and looked dead at you in the eye, a whimsical eyebrow raising.

But you start to argue, "No wait hang on I'm pretty sure it's mine you definitely paid last week-"

He fobs you off by shaking his head and putting his hand out, "Yeah yeah don't worry about it, honestly it’s no bother. I have something to tell you anyway and it's pretty big so I'm in the mood to treat us..."

You perk up at his words and look at him quizzingly, "What is it James? You ain't going to leave your best mate hanging already are ya?"

He was looking at you now with serious intent and it unnerved you slightly. Suddenly, nerves were climbing up to the surface again. You watched him as he rubbed his hands together.

"Ok, so... this is pretty big right, and I have been trying to figure out the best way to tell you but-"

"Oh for goodness sake James just bloody tell me already!"

As you say this he responds in unison, "I've met someone."

You went totally silent. You were speechless. You wanted the ground to swallow you up. You blinked hard and asked him to repeat those words you wished he hadn't said.

"I've- met someone... as in she's er, well, she's brilliant actually and I think it might be serious," he looked down shyly at his napkin on the table, fiddling with the cutlery.

You decided that all you can do is feign happiness. Be delighted for him. It was all you could do, you couldn't be mad at him for finding someone.

But the words were not coming. You felt like you were going to be sick. Maybe you had to get some air but you couldn't arouse suspicion. James knew you well enough after all.

"Uh-" you tried to say something. Still nothing.

"Y/n? Are you alright? Did I say something bad? I did say it was big..."

You put your arm out, trying not to alarm him and wanting to avoid him getting close to you so that he couldn't hear your heartbeat or your stomach churning. You stood up from your chair and managed to finally stifle up some form of words.

"Sorry, James, I don't know- I think I might be coming down with something? Sudden headache! I think. Might need to go home actually and you might have to tell me all the deets of how you met the lucky lady over the phone later. But yeah, I think I need to leave..."

"Y/n wait are you sure you don't just need to eat or take a break outside for a minute? I was looking forward to seeing you and I don't want you to leave. Maybe I could come back with you to yours instead I-"

Suddenly, without thinking, your voice became sharp and you looked at him sternly, "No! No James, please. Don't take me home, it's fine really. I'll be fine."

And you headed for the door, essentially storming off like a petulant child. You instantly started to regret your attitude at that moment, but it was too late now so you just had to turn away and leave.

Or at least you tried to leave, but it appeared James wasn't having it as you got to the door and he stopped you in your tracks. It would appear that a row was about to form, with anger splashed across your best friend's face. He rarely ever looked at you like this, but it had to happen occasionally. Fighting on the busy streets outside a cafe was not what you had planned for today.

He had grabbed your arm and was frowning, looking at you confused and annoyed.

"What the hell Y/n? Why did you snap at me like that? I was opening up to you about something really important to me and you just try to storm off and feed me bullshit about feeling ill? Tell me what's the problem now. I am not letting you go off and sulk..."

You groaned and looked away from him. Why couldn't you just be a decent friend and be happy for him? Why couldn't you just lie properly instead of wearing your damn feelings on your sleeve?

You crossed your arms and tried to explain it, trying to come up with something plausible.

"Look fine you’re right, that was shitty of me I know. I didn't give you a fair warning. But I guess it just really shocked me, you saying you met someone. Took me off guard I suppose," you still couldn't quite look him in the eye.

"I get that Y/n but you're my best mate. You're supposed to be straight with me. I mean you usually are! But I guess it wasn't fair of me either to spring this on you like that. I finally met someone and I just wanted to share my excitement with my favourite person in the whole wide world..." He started getting a little fidgety, you knowing he wasn't one for expressing admiration or being open about feelings. This was just all around uncomfortable for both of you.

And then you felt really bad. You looked at him with pure remorse and started to apologise while fiddling with your hair, "Shit James I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have reacted this way, period. It was really wrong of me. I am absolutely ready… to hear all and share your happiness with you," your teeth almost gritted with those final words. Some part of you wondered if he could tell that you still weren't being totally genuine.

He squinted his eyes and pointed his finger at you somewhat accusingly, "Hmmmm... there's something off. What are you hiding from me, hmm?"

You looked up at the sky and sighed heavily, praying for a flying saucer to grab you in that moment and take you to a distant land far away from here. But alas, no such luck.

You decided you had to be at least a bit more truthful. How you were going to word it though was tricky.

"OK ok James, you caught me. I guess, perhaps I am a little pissed that you didn't tell me that you were dating someone at least. I mean, how long have you waited to tell me? Why were you keeping it for so long?" You almost felt a bit smug for turning the tables on him. You also felt like such a prick too.

He nodded, accepting your answer and responded accordingly, "Ok yes, that's a fair point. But now you're giving me a chance to explain... I didn't want to tell you until I knew it was a bit more, well... serious. I didn't want to get excited before it was even anything real, you know? Her name is Clara, by the way."

Hmm, Clara. Sounds like someone he would date. Probably long legged, skinny and beautiful too. Your voice in your head sounded so pathetic. You hated feeling jealous. You didn't expect to be so overwhelmed by it.

"Clara, eh? She better be the real deal. She better not break your heart, otherwise I will find her house and kill her. You know that, right?"

James then laughed and his face softened, looking relieved that you weren't fighting anymore.

"James. I'm dead serious here. I will fucking murder her-"

He continued laughing and put his arm around you, dismissing your supposedly empty threat. Both of you started to stroll down the street to wherever it would go.

But you knew that despite appearances, you would do anything for this man - including attacking a woman who might cause him any sort of harm. And you insisted to yourself internally that Clara better step up to the plate. They had to be fucking dynamite; because the man you loved ought to match up as his equal of being the best person alive. Even if you knew that wasn't you.

To think, you were almost going to tell him how you felt that day.

He then looked at you dead in the eye, grabbed your hand and said with such sincerity and with those glittering, beautiful eyes, "Don't think this means that you won't be less important to me, Y/n. I don't want to become one of those people who becomes all consumed by their relationship. Clara will have to understand that I'll still make time for you. Especially when you need it."

You wanted to believe it but you knew that life doesn't work that way so you smiled sadly, almost a tear forming and shook your head, not expecting anything like that.

"No James, don't make promises like that. If Clara is really the right person for you, you prioritise that. You can't be closer to me than your potential future wife, or whatever. She could bear children for you, I can't do that."

You noticed a chord struck in James as you said that and he faltered, gently letting go of your hand. The penny had dropped. You knew your words must have really sunk in. You watched as he turned away from you, despite knowing his reluctance.

But just as quickly he turned back to you and with desperation, "Y/n, really. I don't want to lose you. You still can be just as important-"

You stopped him and put a finger on his lips. You then smiled genuinely at him, fighting every urge to kiss him then, knowing how amazing he was to even be so considerate to your feelings in that moment. You couldn't believe you hadn't started sobbing yet.

"You don't need to say anything James. Please. We are friends. We are nothing more..."

But he frowned at that, looking at you with sadness. And you didn't know why. Perhaps a fleeting moment? A slither of hope that could so easily be taken away? What was he thinking then?

He scratched his head and continued to frown, even though he still kept his eyes on you. In fact, you swore for a second that he looked down at your lips(??), but again must have been going mad. It was a strange day after all.

He then spoke so quietly, his voice practically whispering, "Yeah... friends. I guess that's better than not having you at all..."

And then you frowned at him, realising that you both were standing so awfully close to each other, his body just millimetres from touching yours. And you could feel that sickness again, but for a different reason. What the fuck did he mean by that?

And you wanted to ask him but instead you're frozen in time, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You look up at him in a complete standstill, slightly gasping at the feel of his touch and you squeezed your eyes shut.

You then felt his lips touch your forehead and you opened your eyes to see him, his lips parted as he lifted his head back away from you. But soon you found yourself capturing his lips just that once, so gently and fleetingly. A quick peck. You couldn’t resist it.

He was surprised, quite rightly, his eyes darting around you and beginning to realise what had just happened. He pulled back and it honestly felt like a chain yanking at your heart. The waves were sinking you to the bottom.

You wondered if you might have to give up on your friendship with James to save yourself the worst heartache to come.

Note: OKAAYY I'M SORRY I DIDNT KNOW WHAT CAME OVER ME but somehow this became an unrequited drabble??? It was jsug improvised honestly like I just could imagine this happening and now I feel bad because the reader doesn't get a happy ending and I don't normally write angsty stuff like this but yeah here we are though I guess?? Please don't hate me!!

It's just drabble honestly. I think I wrote it OK? Let me know what you guys think! This is also just FYI nothing to do with Stumbled Into Laughter, Stumbled Into You so don't panic about that.

Peace x

P.s And noooo of course not, not me at all posting a fic on a Sunday night at nearly 1am in the morning - pfft, what am I like?

[pagodazz]

Ethan you should do Patrick anderson headcanons

THANK YOU MOON I LOVE YOU.

Here we go.

PATRICK ANDERSEN HCS.

he's sososososo special to me and he's so . real and relatable I love him.

DIVERSITY WIN!!! the entity connected to your brother is GAY!!!

Just had to get that one out of the way, and now I can continue.

To me Patrick is someone who is so so UNBELIEVABLY convinced he's a being made for only hate and evil, when in reality he's capable of something more.

I find him to be one of the most interesting slenderverse characters, I mean, he genuinely goes from being feral to remembering every life he's lived and he's just so defeated. he's so alone. He's not human but he's not an absolute monster y'know? and I think being so attached to Michael definitely taught him love.

Patrick is a being full of so much sorrow, he keeps a smile on his face while he knows he'll never get that happy ending he dreams of.

He's SO human for something that is NOT human at all. and HABIT was right for saying that.

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

THIS MAN HAS DISCO FEVER. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH.

he THRIVED in the 70s, that's when he was his best. And I firmly believe that's when he realized that humanity could actually be worth something.

Patrick is FULL of funk. I don't know if that makes any sense to anyone, but it does to me. He's genuinely the type of guy to have a victim tied up and he's just dancing to disco music right in front them with the weapon of his choosing and they have no choice but to sit and watch this wannabe theater kid go crazy.

He's so obnoxious but I think it's absolutely amazing. I bet he absolutely KILLED IT in the clubs back in the day.

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

Despite popular belief, Patrick genuinely loves Shaun. Shaun is Patricks everything next to Michael. I think that if he wasn't so afraid of rushing Shaun's death, they would've been alot closer.

They're not siblings in every iteration, but I like to think most of the time they are. I like to think that there was a time that Patrick got to actually love Shaun, but he realized that no matter what he does, he's just going to lose them anyways, so what even is the point?

Although, I genuinely don't think he expected HABIT to cut Shaun up, that REALLY fucking killed Patrick.

Vinnie and HABIT really fucked with the timeline and i mean, that's what Patrick wanted. That's WHY he warned Vinnie back in the 80s.

So I think he blames himself entirely for the loss of both stormy and Shaun. And I mean he's not exactly wrong which is the worst part for him. it quite literally is his fault this keeps happening.

Hes a sick selfish parasite who does nothing but spread diseases to those he cares about.

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

Patrick can play many instruments I know that for sure, and I think he can sing.

He's always had just the heart of a performer in him. Like if he had his choice, or his freedom, he would take the first opportunity to climb onto a stage and show off his talents as if to say; "LOOK AT ME!!! IM WORTH SOMETHING!! I HAVE SOMETHING TO GIVE!!"

Because I think no matter what Patrick is always going to remain hungry for attention, and to be loved by many. He wants his chance in the spotlight, he wants his time to shine, and he's gonna do anything he can to get that moment. he KNOWS there's no escaping and no stopping what goes on, but he might as well make himself WORTH something.

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

I believe that Patrick has known a previous iteration of the emh guys, (this IS canon, but I think they were friends, and VERY close) But I think that Patrick and Vinnie were the closest.

there's just something about the way he talks to Vinnie in the Princeton tapes, it's as if he's known him his whole life. like he knows exactly what makes Vinnie tick and how he acts and how he'd answer him.

And sure you could say that it was the collective giving that kind of information out, but I would have to DISAGREE!!!!!!!!

Patrick feels solidarity with Vinnies situation and I really like the way they contrast each other.

Vinnie is just a guy who's more like a monster and Patrick is a monster who is more like a guy.

I like them. alot.

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

I HAVE SO MANY MORE SO PLEASE DONT BE AFRAID TO ASK ME FOR HCS. I LOVE GETTING THEM AND ANSWERING THEM

[vinylfoxbooks]

June 15 - Release | @jegulus-microfic | wc: 1,575 The environment is inspired by this tiktok The premise of this is inspired by this tiktok and I can only hope that I properly portrayed the pure emotion that this tiktok gave me The songs that James plays are as follows: Moonlight Sonata 1st movement (Beethoven), Fur Elise - Dark Version (Toms Mucenieks), Beauty in Betrayal (Lennard Kastner)

Regulus is in and out of the building they're hiding in: an abandoned thing that might’ve once had many rooms but has since lost many of its separating walls. He thinks it might’ve been a hotel or a hospital, an open lobby with what was probably once a garden in the center of it, an old, out of tune piano that might not even work surrounded by debris that few of them have the confidence to climb around in. Around it, on several floors, are mezzanines to walk on, leading to a series of doors. There’s a desk in the back. 

It’s old, it's decrepit, and several parts of it they’re too scared to venture into but it’s hidden. It’s secret, and it holds all of them without cramping them together. 

They’re upset about it, but James and Lily aren’t allowed to leave the building -- after all, when Regulus came to them and their friends, it was them that Voldemort was wanting, having been sold out by Peter. So, usually Regulus, Dorcas, and Mary are the ones to leave and get food and toiletries for everyone staying in there. Occasionally Barty or Evan will come by and give them proper updates -- Regulus can only do so much acting as a spy for both sides for the war -- but their visits have to be sparse and only occasional. 

Regulus has been gone for about a week at this point, having to travel and stay for several meetings with Voldemort and has just returned back to the hideout. It’s the middle of the night and Regulus has just gotten into more comfortable clothes and laid down, getting ready for bed. However, as he’s feeling the sweet release of sleep pull him under, there’s a noise. Or rather, a lot of noise. Music, maybe?

It’s faint, but just loud enough to pull Regulus out of bed and onto tired feet. He ventures out of his room, on the second floor of the building and leans against the railing, feeling his breath punched out of his chest because-

Because James is sitting at the bench of the out of tune grand piano sitting in what was once a lobby. There’s debris around him by some of the doorways -- Regulus wishes so desperately he could know what had happened to this building to leave it in such a state -- and he’s sitting at the piano and-

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him play.” Sirius says from beside Regulus, scaring him out of his reverie, “Sorry.”

“No it’s fine, I just- I didn’t know that…”

“That James played the piano?” Sirius finishes for him, watching his best friend with adoration, “He’s been playing since he was a kid, told me that watching Effie play made him fall in love with it. But as he got older, he stopped playing. Told me that he only ever plays when he’s stressed or worried about something, like a release.”

“And you’ve heard him play?”

“Once,” Sirius shakes his head, “It was right after he got the letter that his parents were sick, dragon pox. I was with him when he got it and he ran all the way to the Potter mansion. He sat in front of that piano with his parents nearby for hours, playing song after song. I think he just didn’t want us to see that he was crying.”

“He’s beautiful.” Regulus breathes, watching his ex-boyfriend play. Regulus regrets their break up everyday. He was the one that left James after taking the dark mark, deciding that he didn’t deserve James, and after he left James went with Lily. They had a child together and seemed happy, but since Regulus went into semi-hiding with them, he’s seen that their marriage was more one of expectation than it was one of romantic love. They sleep in different rooms and alternate which nights they take care of Harry, which room he sleeps in. Lily and Mary seem to be flirting pretty heavily, which Regulus is glad that they’re finding light in the situation but James-

Sirius sighs, “He’s not doing alright… he’s worried about Harry, about Lily, about Remus and I, about Peter coming back… he’s worried about you, Reg.”

“Me? Why would he be worried about me, I- I was horrible to him.”

“That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t still love you, Reggie.” The older brother shakes his head, finally taking his eyes off of James to look at his brother, “You were his light. He knew that you weren’t leaving him because you didn’t love him. And I mean, you were the ones that saved us. You found him, you told him what happened, you saved his life. And the life of his son.” 

“And you going around and risking your life, not saying anything to us for weeks is terribly stressful, even for someone that isn’t close with you.” Another voice says. Lily. Her hair is braided and her eyes aren’t shining like usual but she’s still breathtaking -- Regulus has always admired Lily’s beauty. The girl comes to stand on the other side of Regulus, placing a hand on his shoulder, a sleepy Harry resting against her shoulder and sitting on her hip opposite to Regulus, “We’re all worried about you. But James especially. I could tell that he never fell out of love with you. He was always checking the news to see if you showed up somewhere.”

“And you didn’t mind that?”

Lily shakes her head with a soft laugh, watching her husband -- they’re technically still married even if separated, “No. Because I didn’t love him like that either. Yes, we got married. Yes, we had a child together but both of our hearts were taken with other people. His was taken with you.” As she finishes her statement the song that James was playing comes to a close and another starts up, just as intense, just as emotional as the first. Lily takes her hand off of Regulus’ shoulder, “Go talk to him. Or at least sit with him.” 

Regulus nods and rushes to the stairs of the building, hurrying down them with the echoing music James is playing sweeping him towards his ex. Towards his lover. 

He climbs over the debris as quietly as he can, standing just behind James and watching the way his deft fingers fly over the keys. Even out of tune, the song that James is playing is breathtaking.

When James finishes with the song that he’s playing, he finally turns to see Regulus, offering a weak smile. His eyes are red-lined and tear streaks cover his puffy face. Regulus feels his heart drop into his stomach, “Hello Jamie.”

“Reg.” James says, the word coming out like a breath. Like a sigh of relief after a long, stressful day. James is too much of a worry. He wears his heart on his sleeve and worries himself nearly to death. If Voldemort doesn’t kill him in this war, James is going to work himself into his own grave. 

Regulus moves to sit on the piano bench with James, wrapping his arm around James’ waist, “I’ve got you James. I’m sorry.”

James shakes his head, “You have nothing to be sorry about, Reg. You saved our lives.” His voice is shaky and tears well up in his eyes as he speaks.

“I have everything to be sorry about, Jamie.”

“Let’s not focus on what we did wrong.” James smiles weakly at his ex, leaning into his body, “If we’re facing the end of the world as we know it, what good is it to focus on the bad.”

“You’re perfect.” Regulus breathes, feeling his own eyes well up with tears, “Play me another one?”

James nods, his hands reaching towards the piano again though he doesn’t stop leaning into Regulus’ body warmth, “Of course.” And with that, his hands set to work on a piece -- likely muscle memory which is incredible to Regulus. It’s beautiful, it’s melancholic. It’s their relationship, it’s the world as it collapses around them, it’s the worries that they all have -- worries that they won’t make it out of this war alive, worries about their future, about their loved ones. 

It's tragedy and it’s beautiful. 

Regulus never takes his arm from James’ back, however he does lift his head from where it’s begun resting on James’ shoulder and looks around the old abandoned building. Sirius and Lily are still standing where he left them, only having moved closer to each other. Remus has come out as well and is resting his head on Sirius’ and Harry is fully awake in Lily’s arms and they’re all watching the two of them at the piano. As Mary starts to walk over to the four of them as well, her own eyes trained to the piano, Regulus shifts his gaze to where Marlene and Dorcas are leaning against each other across the second floor from the others. Dorcas offers him a smile and a nod. 

He looks up for a moment, taking in the beautiful stained glass ceiling above them -- or what’s left of it as several of the coloured glass pieces has fallen from their frames -- and into the stars above for a moment before letting his eyes fall closed and letting his mind taken by the music James is playing, allowing those beautiful notes to sweep him into the night, into the stars, and into a better future.

[distant-velleity]

hypocrite // another side

Summary: Chrysos' perspective of his little scuffle with Yu. Word count: 2.5k+ Warnings: violence (again) A/N: Hhhhonestly I wasn't planning to finish this so soon, but it sort of just happened anyway. What can I say, support from my friends got me acting different. Enjoy.

-

After witnessing two Overblots himself and seeing how Crewel’s TA always ended up involved one way or another, Chrysos was starting to get a feel for when Yu was about to end up in trouble again.

It was late in the evening, and while he should have been returning to his dorm to sleep, he was out in the pouring rain. 

He silently watched under the cover of darkness (and a nearby overhang) as Yu snuck into the coliseum, to where the Purple Stage was. 

To where he said Vil had Overblotted.

…Chrysos grimaced. It wasn’t hard for him to see where this was going.

Once Yu had climbed the gate, Chrysos waited before quietly entering through a side entrance (sometimes lock-picking spells came in handy). The staff hallway, eerie in its emptiness, seemed to wind on for far too long until he finally reached the entrance that would lead him to the stage.

At first, there was no one in sight. 

Then, Chrysos caught sight of the recognizable limp figure on the ground, just an arm’s reach away from a whole blot crystal. Between the undeniable taste of magic in the air and the tatters of fabric that were once Yu’s gloves, the situation was clear.

Yet again, the TA had walked straight into the path of danger.

…

Quickly refreshing himself on the events of the previous night, Chrysos tries not to appear like he’s in a rush. Although he has a plethora of possible excuses, he doesn’t want to be the cause for questions when a teacher could show up at any moment. 

A normal pace in the empty school hallway is best, especially when he technically shouldn’t be here. 

Especially when Yu shouldn’t be leaving the infirmary anytime—

A certain TA storms right by him.

—s…oon…

Chrysos’ eyes widen. That caught him off guard.

He whips around and, before Yu can leave, calls out, “There you are, Wei.”

(It comes out more accusatory than he intends it to be, but that’s fine. It’s still soft enough to do little more than instill paranoia.)

Slowly, Yu turns around, almost like a thief caught in the act. “Chrysos,” he replies, sounding remarkably unshaken. “Headed somewhere?”

“I meant to visit the infirmary to find you, but…” Chrysos realizes then that he was speaking without thinking, but continues on quickly before his hesitation becomes telling. “...it looks like you’ve already been discharged.”

Yu smiles, one that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. It was probably a cause for concern for some, but I’m fine. An overnight stay in the nurse’s office was treatment enough.”

No, it wasn’t. 

Even with his thin skin Yu is still visibly pale as a sheet, and there’s absolutely no way the magical scarring on his hand has faded already. What’s more, he was out in the rain with only a few layers on—Chrysos is surprised neither of them ended up catching a cold.

In other words, Yu is lying.

Still, it isn’t a smart idea to start ranting out of nowhere, so Chrysos makes do with a simple tilt of his head. “Oh? That’s fast.” And then, as a little test: “If I might ask… what were you in there for, then?”

Patiently impatient, he watches as Yu formulates a response. If he’s willing to trust Chrysos and let slip some of the truth, then—fine, whatever. That will just make the whole process less painful for the both of them, since Chrysos has a lot of questions and not a lot of time to ask them. 

If he lies again and plays it off as nothing, however…

“Stress-induced sickness, I guess? It got to the point where I fainted,” Yu says easily, with a soft little laugh. “I’m about as weak as people expect me to be.”

…Chrysos can’t accept that answer.

It’s such a bold-faced lie that he, who knows the truth, wants to lose his temper right then and there. That isn’t to say Yu’s little moment of vulnerability wasn’t slightly genuine, didn’t vaguely resemble his true self, but that’s also part of the bigger lie.

Of course he can try to keep his secrets. Anyone would defend theirs to the death. That doesn’t mean Chrysos will allow himself to be played for a fool.

“I see,” he replies calmly, deciding to extend some benevolence and allow Yu another choice. “You’re sure you feel fine now, then?”

“Yep. Thanks for being worried, though.”

Are you kidding me? 

Chrysos wants to grab Yu by the shoulders and shake him until he returns to his senses. Which part of that statement can even be labeled as the most infuriating—the spot-on call-out of him being worried, or the suggestion that he didn’t need to be?

By the Sea Witch, between Santiago and Yu, Chrysos is going to lose his mind from the stress someday.

“That’s good to hear—”

“Wait a minute—”

They speak at the same time, and Chrysos pauses. He notices the look of sudden unease on Yu’s face—it’s about time he realized something was not what it seemed. 

“How…” Yu starts at Chrysos’ insistence, seems to think about it some more, and then continues, “How did you even know I was in the infirmary?”

“Do you want to take a guess?”

“No. Just tell me outright, please.”

At least he’s polite about it, but Chrysos can’t help but think—how ironic, coming from you.

“In that case”—another slight tilt of his head—“I was the one who brought you to the infirmary to begin with.”

He maintains a perfectly innocent, neutral look while watching the emotions on Yu’s face cycle by. They pass through surprise, disbelief, and then finally a sort of dawning horror. 

This is why you shouldn’t lie to me.

Yu opens his mouth, most likely to ask a question, and then closes it. Then he has the audacity to cover it up with a smile and a “Seriously? Well… thank you a lot, then. I owe you one.” 

Before Chrysos can respond, Yu quickly adds—

“But I’m kind of in a hurry, so maybe we can talk about that later.”

And he walks right off again, pace brisk. 

It’s a rude, cold dismissal; maybe Yu’s hoping he can just pull it off and escape, get away from the questions he knows he’ll be subject to. Hoping to put them off, to wait until the matter is forgotten about entirely.

Unfortunately for him, Chrysos is a creature of persistence.

“Yuhua,” he enunciates, making sure he hits every accent and syllable right. “Do you know what I’d appreciate in exchange? An explanation.”

Sure enough, Yu stops in his tracks.

“For what?” 

He can’t even make eye contact. It’s the oldest tell in the book.

Chrysos feels his patience wearing thinner and thinner. 

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“No, I don’t. I’m sorry,” says Yu, sounding scarily sincere. If Chrysos were a little less knowledgeable, he would have fallen for it—would have doubted his own conviction and backed off.

But instead, he presses his lips into a thin, frustrated line and approaches Yu, making sure every step is heard clearly. In what has been described as his ‘ticking time bomb’ voice, Chrysos says softly; warningly: “I don’t appreciate you continuing to lie to my face. I found you unconscious at the Purple Stage last night, holding onto something you shouldn’t have looked for. Do you want to deny it any further?”

Or will you finally listen to me?

“Maybe I should ask what you were doing there. Isn’t your convenient presence equally suspicious?” Yu asks, a clear deflection.

“The Film Research Club was debriefing late into the night; you can ask anyone about it. That’s when I saw you.” Chrysos narrows his eyes at Yu. “To be frank, it’s more of an alibi than yours.”

“Well—”

“And that’s not all. Don’t think I don’t know about the other blot stones you’ve been hiding.”

Like a deer caught in headlights, or however that saying goes, Yu freezes. While Chrysos wants to feel satisfied, wants to feel smug at demonstrating the knowledge Yu intended to keep secret, he just feels bitter.

Meanwhile, Yu drops the sheepish, sincere voice. 

“...How do you know that?”

Chrysos can only huff quietly.

“It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots. You’re lucky I’m the only one who’s noticed.” 

“You—” Yu shuts his mouth, fists trembling ever so slightly. “Thanks for your concern, but seriously, this isn’t any of your business. I don’t need any help.”

He’s so wrong that it hurts. What was he going to do if Chrysos had never seen him going for Vil’s blot stone? Did he just intend to stay passed out in the coliseum, affected by the poison, until someone else found him?

“Actually, I feel a little inclined to intervene. Do you even know what effects continuous blot exposure has on a normal human?” 

“Does it matter if I’m just keeping them safely locked up?” 

“Contrary to what you might think, you’re not invincible,” warns Chrysos, and he means it.

Unfortunately, it seems to go right over Yu’s head. Or maybe he does understand, and just chooses not to accept it. Either way—

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this. Remember when you almost overblotted because you overused your signature spell?”

(“Stupid fish… I had to run all that way to save you, y’know? And—look at your magestone!”)

Chrysos ignores the sudden, undeniable shame inside of him to give Yu a look. “And so I’ve stopped using it. Can you say the same for yourself?”

(He’s changed, right? At least a little. At least he’s not doing whatever Yu has been doing.)

“What am I supposed to do? Leave the stones somewhere and hope they’ll just despawn without affecting anyone?!” 

Yu throws up his hands in a gesture of exasperation, of trying to play the hero.

“Seven, I wish it was that easy.”

“Did you consider your other options? You could have told someone. Anyone. Maybe not us students,” Chrysos concedes, “but I’m genuinely surprised you didn’t at the very least call on one of the teachers or the headmage to safely dispose of it.”

“It’s because I thought about it that I came to the conclusion I should just handle it myself,” snaps Yu, expression darkening. “Are you going to stop being a hypocrite now? I mean, having other options never kept you from going off on your own—like with the anemones.”

It isn’t that the tables are turning, necessarily, but they’re being flipped back and forth. His shame returns in full force, and Chrysos fights back a mixture of nausea and fury. 

Stop talking about this. Stop reminding me. 

“If you must know—”

“I’m dying to hear your excuses, because the last I remember, you would go off and pursue debt-evading or rebellious students on your own—you would go off and ‘handle’ them yourself.”

Shut up—stop talking about that already—

Even so, Yu takes on a sickeningly saccharine yet sarcastic tone, and keeps going. 

“Don’t you remember that, too? I’m sure it must have been so satisfying in the moment when you were beating Ace up—him, magicless and defenseless, and you with all the power, feeling like you were in the right because no one else was there to govern your actions—”

“Yu.” 

Chrysos hardly recognizes the sound of his own voice. 

“Are you willing to shut your mouth, or should I shut it for you?” he asks, silently hoping he won’t have to resort to that.

But instead of cowering, instead of taking anything back, Yu chooses to laugh at him. 

“Funny, because I’ve been wanting to ask you the same thing. Can’t take what you dish out either, huh—?!”

Chrysos sees red.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, his body is already moving on its own—his fist collides with the side of Yu’s face. 

Yu staggers backwards and almost falls from the force of the punch. Gingerly, dazed for a second, his fingers feel at the bright red patch blooming to life on his cheek; where the blood vessels have burst and an ugly bruise is ready to form.

And yet, and yet…

Chrysos grabs Yu by the front of his shirt. Immediately, almost instinctively, Yu has his sharp nails digging into the exposed skin he can find on Chrysos’ arm. It’s like being stabbed by needles, but he refuses to waver.

…Yu manages something of a cynical smile. 

 “Resorting to violence because you have no other arguments?” he taunts.

It’s so clearly an attempt to provoke Chrysos into doing something he’ll regret, forcing him to back off. And maybe it serves as more fuel for Yu’s “hypocrite” argument. 

“Resorting to deflection because you’re obviously in the wrong?” retorts Chrysos.

“Like that’s your place to decide?”

Yu scoffs, the sound full of disdain. 

“Why don’t you keep doing what you do for everyone else, and mind your own damn business?”

Chrysos opens his mouth to snap back, to say don’t accuse me of looking down on you when you’re doing the same, but pain suddenly shoots up his leg when Yu lands a kick on his shin. In layman’s terms, it fucking hurts, and by reflex he stumbles while his grip weakens.

(At this point, maybe he should just give in to his anger. How else is he going to get through to Yu, who only becomes stubborn at the worst possible times?)

Yu tries to break away and possibly make a run for it, but Chrysos refuses to give up so easily. He tightens his hold on Yu’s shirt, employing both hands this time, and drags the TA right back.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Chrysos hisses. “You can get what I’m saying through your head, but you keep choosing not to.”

“And?”

Yu looks at him, something between spiteful and expectant. Chrysos waits for something to follow that up, anything but the defiant little conjunction, but nothing comes. 

Deep breaths.

He won’t let Yu’s refusal to accept help get to him, he won’t let the feeling of being unable to help get to him—

Seven fucking dammit!

Chrysos doesn’t recall drawing back his fist and throwing another punch, but the red overtakes his vision again and when he blinks, Yu’s already on the floor. Yu, whose face is already a bit disfigured from being struck in the same place twice in a row.

Guilt and rage alike mix inside Chrysos’ chest, so potent that it feels like he’s suffocating. 

“You—I—”

What is he even supposed to say? If he lets himself run his mouth again, he’ll be like Yu and let loose insults that he’ll regret later. As if he doesn’t regret losing his temper enough already.

Both of them have gone too far, that much is clear.

“Sometimes, I can’t believe you,” he finally forces out. “Preaching all these things and never putting them into practice with yourself.”

You should rely on others more. I don’t mind if you talk about it with me. How many times had Yu said something like that?

How many times was he going to never allow others to do the same for him?

…Whatever. This should have gotten some kind of message across, and that can be all he needs. Chrysos turns and walks away, as swiftly as possible.

He can’t bring himself to look at whatever Yu’s expression might be.

-

i think some people wanted me to tag them the last time so i, am gonna bust out the taglist (as always ask to be added or removed): @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @nahelenia @casp1an-sea

[this is basically just my writing taglist so ummm specify if you want to be added to that too]

[iminthetunnels]

i literally forgor what it felt like to be under so much stress. the cold sweats, the extreme panic, the throwing up, gagging if i put foood in my mouth. like it’s been good for so long, even before i met him i was doing so good. i was so healthy and so happy. now i feel i have to restart again. “that’s what life is about” but i truly don’t think so. i think it’s so wicked. like a bad dream. a weird nightmare. ever since i went to nashville, ever since i stepped in the waiting room at the cancer center, pure pain and shock. pure shock. it hit me all over again. i see the bald children on dialysis and im in udder shock, pain, fatigue, i want to cry. but i look stupid. i see their bloated faces. i’m scared. they tell me it’s fine. but i read those test results. they call me and want to do further testing. they will do another bone marrow biopsy. i can feel it. called it. i just sit in shock and also so fuckin funny dude. “u gunna leave me when shit gets hard” and it’s like yeah absolutely ! what kind of world . i am so so so so so sick. all i can think is, i want my son to be healthy. why is that so wrong. i am so sick. you’d never know either. i am so good at making sure it’s going to be okay. god has always had me. thru everything. i can’t lose my son tho. i cannot lose my son. they tell me “he’s developmentally delayed. just be with him 100% of the time” that’s fine. i already am. bht i don’t think he’s delayed. i think it’s traumatizing going to the doctor for him. so what if he can’t feed himself because he can’t see? so what i HAVE to be a helicopter mom and watch him so he doesn’t run into walls, poles, doors, whatever. or fall off a ledge. i wish i told them how well he hikes. he loves hiking. he says “i wanna walk by myself” and climbs rocks. the walking stick helps so much, it’s like a giant pointer finger and sound maker for him to see a REALLY big step. don’t care if im rambling. he wants me next to him while he sleeps, he can tell when i get up. even to go pee. he’s always coslept with me. even as a newborn. well actually, he slept on my chest 99% of the time. he slept on his own for abt 10 minutes as a newborn. like at a time. he also. has never really spent time away from me. i’ve never had a night away from him. i’ve never been too far from him. i’m always around him 100% and i don’t mind this actually i prefer this. i love to watch him grow. i love teaching him and being his mom. today we did tracing and he drew a nice big circle. he wants to help me do everything. he is a big helper. i love him more than life itself. he’s so wonderful. his favorite color is red. i wonder what he’ll make me crack up abt tomorrow. i wonder if he’ll wanna do tracing again. every morning, we do the calendar and white board. we have a velcro calendar that we change and we go thru the day, date, month, year, season, and current weather. on his white board i ask him…. how do you feel today??? he usually says “good!:)” with a big smile. i ask him, what do you wanna do today??? and i write down all the things he wants to do. i ask him, what do you want to eat today? so we are both prepared??? we go thru breakfast, lunch, snacks, dinner. then i write anything else he wants to add. it’s fun and builds a great schedule, routine of the sorts. then we go on to do everything he wants to do. i also started adding what i wanted to do. so he knows i have time to myself as well. today was “i wanna do some projects” and he honored that, respected it and gave me some space while he “read” all by himself. he was making up stories and flipping thru his books. his imagination is wild and beautiful. he’s very funny.