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makeyoumine69 · 23 days

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Lost Memory (Memory Reboot x4)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader x Timothy Bryce

SUMMARY: Two lost souls, both broken and neglected, knowing they were never meant to be, found solace in each other just for one night.

CONTAINS: SMUT, angst, depression, obsessive thoughts, mentions of death, canon violence, tainted love, blow jobs, face-sitting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, dirty talk, pet names, sensual foreplay, rimming, intoxication, praise kink.

WORDS: 4.5k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Lost Memory

A/N: Hello everyone, the new chapter is finally here! I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope you like it!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

Cool New York night air enveloped your shivering frame the moment you walked outside, leaving the noisy wedding party behind the walls of the luxurious Ziegfeld Ballroom. Slowly breathing in the fresh air, you closed your eyes and threw your head back a little to come back to your senses—you were literally broken to pieces, to say the least—your heart was pounding painfully in your chest and at some point you wished it would stop beating, thinking that it would end everything and finally set you free from all this pain and suffering.

Hugging yourself, you took a few weak strides towards the street where cars were speeding by. Just one step, and tomorrow all the newspapers would report that there had been an accident in Manhattan right next to the Ziegfeld Ballroom where the pompous wedding of our Wall Street golden boy was taking place. You laughed to yourself at all this nonsense, how did you ever get into such a situation? Being completely sober, the realization of what you were thinking hit you even harder than if you were drunk or high, but now you were completely lucid, able to feel every twinge of pain.

Bewildered, you watched the yellow cars go by, sometimes you could see the impassive faces of the passengers inside. All this reminded you of a movie whose name you could never really remember. But it was definitely not a comedy or a drama. Maybe it was a documentary about someone's life... a tragic life?

With a sad sigh, you were about to sit down on the curb when you heard loud footsteps behind you and turned around to see a familiar silhouette approaching.

"Bateman?" You asked, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

The man didn't answer, as if he hadn't noticed you at all, casually pulling a cigar out of the pocket of his Prada coat that he wore over his wedding tuxedo, and for a second you thought it was just an illusion your sick mind managed to maintain to keep your psyche from collapsing.

After lighting his cigar, Patrick made a long drag before finally giving you an agonizing stare. "Just wanted to have some fresh air..." he paused, his white teeth clenching around the cigar, making his jawline look so sharp that even in the dark you could see it. "Plus, Evelyn didn't want me to smoke inside. We just got married and she's already making scenes."

You wanted to say something, but stopped at the last moment—his hazel eyes suddenly took your breath away—leaving you completely speechless.

"And you," Bateman continued as he came closer, his elegant figure looking so seductive in the dim light. "I can't believe you left all your business in Chicago just to come here and get squashed like a fucking cockroach!"

"What? What are you talking about?" You asked in a shaky tone, your temples pulsating with a strange tension that made you want to massage them. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

Patrick grinned wickedly as he leveled himself with you, the difference in height only adding to the menace of his appearance. "Tell me one thing, (y/n)," he whispered above your cheek, keeping the mere distance between the two of you. "Did you really think I'd dream of you coming back to me?"

You closed your eyes involuntarily, every word he said bringing the most inhuman pain you had ever felt. "S-stop," you replied, stepping back. "Shut... shut your damn mouth!"

"Ohhh," he cooed at you in a mocking way, which drove you crazy, but then he blew some smoke right in your face, which made you want to punch him in the chest. "You just have to accept that you lost," Bateman suddenly grabbed the collar of your coat to pull you closer. "Just accept that you fell in love with a man who doesn't give a fuck about you."

On the verge of tears, you didn't even struggle as the ground beneath your feet suddenly began to disappear. "I... I will not give you the satisfaction of hating you... you f-fucking bastard!"

Without thinking, you spat right into his smug face and before you knew it, his strong arms were wrapped around your trembling neck, almost straddling you so you couldn't even make a sound. Everything around you began to blur, and the last moment you remembered before passing out was Patrick's menacing laugh as he pushed you right out into the road in front of the speeding car. A fatal blow hit your body, a screeching sound of tires rang in your ears and you screamed in pain, choking on your own breath.

And then the darkness finally took you.

At least you thought so until you heard a familiar male voice calling out to you, and no, it wasn't Patrick. No way, if you were really going to die, you wished you would never meet him in the place you were going to transfer to. No doubt, that son of a bitch would burn in hell while you would end up in heaven. Somehow you were sure of that.

"Jesus, (y/n), will you stop yelling?" The grumpy voice called out to you again.

You blinked several times before opening your eyes to see the opulent interior around you. And who said that heaven was somewhere in the sky where angels were flying around promising a peaceful afterlife?

"Welcome back," the dark-haired man chuckled, swirling his drink in his hand. "I told you not to mix too many cocktails."

Cocktails?

You recoiled as if from an electric shock as you suddenly heard your inner voice, seemingly silent for centuries. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to get up, but the next moment you fell back onto something soft, which seemed to be a car seat, considering you definitely heard the engine rumble, so you were definitely in someone's car. Another attempt to get up was more successful and you took your time exploring the surroundings, and when you managed to get a good look at the person sitting on the opposite side of you, your heart did a flip-flop in your chest.

"Bryce?" You couldn't believe your eyes at first, but when you saw his cheeky grin, you knew it was really him.

"You drifted off right after we got in, so I decided not to wake you," Timothy replied nonchalantly before taking a sip of his drink. "Nice limo? Evelyn and Bateman were supposed to be in it, but then he told me they were leaving in a fucking helicopter," the man laughed, almost dropping the glass. "A fucking helicopter, can you believe that?"

Your head was spinning, making it difficult to process the information. Grunting, you pressed your hand to your forehead, trying to remember how you got in here in the first place.

"Ohhh...my head," you hissed, almost kicking the tray of drinks that was on the small table built into the limo door. "What...what happened after the ceremony ended," your question left Tim speechless and for a moment you both remained silent. "Bryce?"

Timothy frowned and placed the empty glass on his knee. "Are you kidding?"

"For God's sake, Bryce!" You suddenly raised your voice, but the next second you hissed in pain. "Can... can you just fucking tell me what the hell am I doing here?"

"You're asking me that?" Bryce tilted his head as he watched you try to sit comfortably. "Come on, (y/n), this isn't funny anymore. Besides, I warned you not to drink too much."

Tsk... I can't remember a damn thing.

When you managed to sit up straight, you pressed yourself against the cold window and sighed in relief. "And what exactly did...we drink?"

The man scoffed. "I told you...you had several cocktails, but that was not enough...so you decided to finish everything the bar had."

"Ahh, screw you! I don't believe a word you're saying," you threw one leg over the other, watching the blinding lights of oncoming traffic. "Where are we going?!"

"Where? Jeez, if you can't drink, you better not even try," Tim replied curtly, his voice changing, now devoid of any sass. "We're going to my place."

"What?"

"Stop fucking pretending you don't remember," the man barked, squirming in his seat, the glass felt on the soft floor of the limo, thankfully it didn't break. "Do you know how deranged you are? You talked in your sleep-"

"I didn't!" You tried to interrupt him, completely embarrassed. "Take another glass and-"

"No, no, no, hold on!" Bryce leaned forward to get closer so you could see his face more clearly. "Did I hit the nerve?"

Yes, you did. You fucking did.

If only you could really confess and open up to him without fear of being accused or whatever. Would it even be right to tell Tim everything that happened between you and Patrick? When you were so close to telling him all the things that were bothering you, your voice suddenly disappeared, as if some invisible force was choking you from within. Only after a few minutes did you manage to speak, feeling Timothy's piercing gaze.

"Was it Evelyn who invited you to the wedding?" Your question surprised him, you could tell by the way he leaned back in his seat. "I'm just curious...because she invited me."

Every time Evelyn was mentioned, something changed in his expression, and you couldn't really find the right word to describe it—it was something much stronger than the usual sadness people always talked about—something that made you sad, too.

"Let's say," his lips curled into a wry smile and you couldn't take your eyes off them, they were beautiful and alluring. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember or...you don't want to remember?" You opened your coat, suddenly feeling suffocated in your clothes.

Bryce furrowed his thick eyebrows, looked down at the empty glass on the floor, as did you, and then your fingers touched as you both leaned down to pick it up. Tim's skin was not as soft as Patrick's, it felt completely different, it made you want to explore it more, to touch it, to taste it, as if it was your own personal forbidden fruit.

Without saying a word, Tim quickly pulled away and took the glass to place it on the tray next to the others, the amber liquid in them making them look like they were made of gold. There was no room for any more talk as the two of you pulled each other into a furious kiss, you let him place his hand at the base of your neck, drawing you closer and soon you were sitting on top of him, gasping into his mouth. Bryce's slightly flushed face made it impossible to think of Bateman, even though his image tried to appear every time you briefly opened your eyes.

Leave... me... alone!

You almost growled aloud, but Tim's eager tongue prevented you from doing so, as he used it to shut you up completely, licking your mouth from the inside while his hands slid down your back to your ass, massaging it, and when you thought he was going to slap it, he just gave it a playful squeeze.

"Jesus, Bryce," you whispered against his red lips, swollen from your kisses. "I didn't know you could be so sweet."

Tim craned his neck and you seized the moment to leave a wet hickey on his smooth skin, he smelled so good you thought you could just snuggle into his chest and sniff his scent. And why did you even bother with these childish, silly games with Bateman? Unfortunately, some questions never had answers, but it didn't matter now. Not when you could find comfort in the arms of Patrick's best friend.

God, I wish you could see me right now.

"There's so little you know about me, baby." He chirped before helping you take off your coat, his impatience turning you on wildly.

With a soft giggle, you unbuttoned your shirt. "Huh, baby? Really? And I thought you were the type who didn't use such primitive nicknames."

Smirking, you teased him with the slow rocking of your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressed against your burning core, and it spurred you to move faster, more erratically, as you unexpectedly became as impatient as he was. And even though you didn't like losing control, you wanted to get lost right now, even though you'd probably regret it tomorrow, but at least the regret would be different.

Nibbling at the artery on your neck, Timothy grabbed your ass tighter to make the friction more vivid, his finger digging into the expensive material of your Gucci pants. "I can call you anything you want," he growled into your collarbone, your shirt half undone. "Just tell me what you want to be tonight?"

"I can be anything," you caught his warm lips with your own to kiss him again in a way that bordered on desperation, as if your life depended on it, and he responded with the same ferocity. "Anything you want..."

Chuckling at your cheeky statement, the man lounged in his seat and looked at you up and down, admiring the way your clothes were disheveled, your hair was nothing like it had been when you had just arrived at the wedding and even your feelings were different. Everything was different now, the whole world seemed to diminish to the size of the interior of the limousine and you both wanted this moment to last forever, but you knew it was impossible.

Bryce decided to use his mouth in a more effective way than just talking, latching it around your nipple through your shirt, but then taking it off completely and swirling his tongue around your hard tip.

"Don't be anything," he quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled out his hard cock. "Just be mine tonight."

You couldn't hide a smile of genuine satisfaction as his words struck a chord in your chest. "Deal."

With that, you carefully rose from his lap to position yourself between his wide-open legs, watching him touch himself with pure abandon. And yet, everything about Tim was far too alien, your mind kept bringing back the memories of what had happened in the bathroom a few hours ago. It hurt, it hurt so much that you almost chewed your cheek to the point of blood to hold back the tears. Bryce, you had to focus on Bryce, he was here, right in front of you, all spread out and pumping his thick cock.

Stop thinking about Bateman!

"Are you sure you know what to do?" Timothy glared down at you, concerned by the sudden change in your demeanor.

Shaking yourself off, you smiled in reply and before you knew it, your hand was sliding along his, then completely replacing it and stroking his dick vigorously, smearing his dense pre-cum all along your hand.

"Watch me," you murmured and lowered yourself even more to take him in your mouth, savoring his salty taste. "Mhhm...fuck, Bryce, you taste so good."

Tim couldn't stop himself from moaning, grabbing the edge of the seat and closing his eyes in ecstasy. "Keep going," he purred, fighting the urge to fuck your throat. "Shit... Bateman doesn't even know what he lost."

Bryce's words almost made you choke on his beefy shaft, but it only took a moment to pull yourself together and just enjoy the way his dick slid in and out of your mouth. As the man pushed himself further, the tip brushing against your throat, you leaned against his hips for support, allowing him to have his way with you. Just the sight of him made you tremble with desire, as you had never really thought that Tim could be so hot, not that you had any doubts that he was a skilled lover, but reality never ceased to surprise you.

"I...I'm so fucking close...uh," his voice dropped even lower, eloquent proof of his words. "Your mouth...arhhh...you know how to work magic with your mouth, babe."

Although you had always denied having a praise kink, being with Tim was the first time you were truly willing to admit that you did have a praise kink. Every little praise he gave you was like balm to your broken soul, encouraging you to suck him harder, to drink him dry. These two men were far too unlike each other, but in the end, you seemed to crave them both.

Being so close to falling apart, Bryce couldn't control himself any more and took a handful of your hair and plunged full length into your bruised mouth until you both noticed that the car had stopped. Tim swore loudly but that didn't stop you and the next thing you remembered was feeling thick ropes of his hot cum shooting down your throat and you could swear it tasted so fucking sweet. Maybe you were delusional, maybe it was just another hallucination–you didn't care because you were high like no drugs could make you.

I'll remember that taste for sure.

A little later, you didn't know exactly how much time had passed, and you didn't recollect how the two of you had gotten into Bryce's apartment. You didn't care about the luxury of this place, how expensive the furniture was, how soft the silk sheets were when you fell on them, your naked skin sliding along the cold material like a ship on waves. You were about to lose all connection to reality when Tim climbed on top of you, his hairy chest rubbing against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist and you couldn't stifle a moan as his leaky dick rubbed against your legs.

Creasing the sheets, you raked your hand through his black, tousled hair, pulling him closer so that your lips could collide in a hunger kiss. "Fuck me, Tim," you murmured unexpectedly, brushing your feet against his hips. "Fuck me like there's no tomorrow."

"Are you always this needy?" He teased, biting your lower lip and licking it after a quick nibble. "Or is it because of me?"

Perplexed, you stopped doing anything as his words left you pondering. "I... I don't know... I don't know who I really am..."

Bryce nodded without saying anything, his nose touching yours in a brief moment of genuine affection, and somehow you thought he understood everything, that he could read you like an open book and there was no need for you to explain. Pecking your cheek, the man slowly turned you over on your stomach and you quickly got down on all fours because you couldn't wait any longer. Bucking your hips, you turned around to see him positioning himself behind you, his warm palm caressing your ass before a finger probed your tight hole, making you gasp but you didn't falter, showing him how ready and eager you were.

"Uhh," Tim stroked himself several times before aligning himself with your opening and diving in with a slow, deliberate thrust. "Fuck...mmhm-fuck."

The mere thought that he had been imagining Evelyn all this time, starting with you giving him head, suddenly made you angry, and for a brief second you allowed yourself to imagine that it was Patrick who was stretching you from the inside, but somehow you began to feel even worse.

"I'm sorry...I'm not Evelyn," you blurted out without thinking. "But I..."

"Shut up," he cut you off and slammed into you relentlessly, forcing you to take him, no matter how painful it was. "I don't want to hear about her...not even a thing."

Bryce was right, it was so fucking stupid of you to bring Evelyn at such a moment, but it was so hard for you to think clearly and Tim's fat cock didn't help at all, the fullness it gave you was completely overwhelming. It made you forget everything and you didn't even want to compare your sensation with the way Patrick made you feel - your mind was finally free of any emotions or thoughts–you were drowning in a carnal lust. You were both extremely vocal, poor neighbors who could hear you at this hour, but Timothy seemed to be completely indifferent as he set the pace, pounding into you with all his might, each stroke full of desperation and unbridled passion.

By the time dawn broke, you couldn't remember how many orgasms you'd both had, as you'd probably tried every possible and impossible position. You managed to be on your knees for him, under him, on top of him. It was madness you never thought you were capable of. As you rode his face, touching yourself, you cried out Bryce's name, not even afraid to accidentally use Patrick's name instead.

"Tim...mhmm-fuck...Tim...I'mma cum!" You fisted his hair, sliding along his glistening face as you rubbed your most sensitive spot. "Fuck...yeahh-Tim...ahhh!"

Shaking, you cum around his face, feeling his strong tongue move inside your tight ass as your inner channel spasmed around it, causing him to moan and hold you close to prolong your climax. Time stopped for both of you with the last stroke of his tongue along your tender flesh and you both collapsed exhausted on the bed.

The first rays of the sun awoke you earlier than you could have imagined. As you lazily got up from the bed, trying not to disturb Tim snoring peacefully, you checked the time before you started looking for your clothes. To be honest, you wanted to stay here in his bed and continue to sleep in his arms, but you knew it would only lead to destruction and you were sure that Bryce thought the same.

Maybe it was a mistake?

Frowning, you wanted to punch yourself for being so reckless and stupid, but Tim's loud exhale caught your attention. You turned to check on him before leaving his bedroom to quickly get dressed and use the bathroom. All the while, you tried to ignore your own reflection, feeling the shame and contempt eating away at you from within, though you didn't even understand why. Bryce wanted this to happen as much as you did, but no matter how hard you tried to reassure yourself, it just didn't seem right. After one last look in the large mirror above the sink, you left the bathroom and soon after you left Timothy's apartment.

The taxi ride back to the Plaza Hotel didn't take long as it was only six in the morning. Looking out the window, you saw rare pedestrians walking here and there, some of them holding newspapers that you were sure were the New York Times. The tops of the skyscrapers were about to reach the sky, and every time you craned your neck to look at them, your head began to spin. All these little details made you realize that you missed New York and probably your former life?

Was it worth it leaving everything behind?

This question kept swirling around in your head even as you finally got back into your suit and decided to take a shower to clean up after such a wild day. Dear God, you just fucked two different men in one day.

"I'm so pathetic..." You muttered to yourself as you stood under the hot water. "What am I going to do now?"

Pressing your head against the wet tiled wall, you gave up and let the tears flow down your face, the water washing them away in an instant. You felt guilty, thinking that you'd only used Bryce for your own needs, knowing that it wouldn't lead to anything serious, but you did it anyway. It was so damn selfish. But then you remembered the words Patrick had said to you in the bathroom just before the ceremony started. You clenched your hand into a fist and the next second you slammed it into the wall with all the strength you had. The blow was so strong that your hand began to bleed, but you ignored it because physical pain was nothing compared to the emptiness inside your soul. As if under a spell, you kept hitting the wall, leaving bloodstains on it.

Five hours later, you are sitting in the restaurant area of the Plaza, waiting for Paul Allen to join you for lunch. Since you had some time before your flight to Chicago, you thought it would be good to catch up with him and talk a little about your current situation at your new job.

Maybe I can get a fresh start here...

Rocking in your seat, you looked down at your bruised hand, which was covered in a tight white bandage, and luckily you managed to stop the bleeding without going to the hospital, but you were still a little nervous, though not because of your wound. What if Paul would tell you that there was no way you could return to New York because the company in Chicago wouldn't let you go? You tapped your fingers on the table in anxiety before picking up the New York Times to distract yourself. One page, then another, until an interesting article appeared in your vision–a luxurious tobacco store in Upper Manhattan had been robbed–the very store you always liked to visit and even dreamed of buying a collection of cigars to give to Patrick...

"(Y/n)! How have you been?" Paul's cheerful voice echoed across the room and when you turned to face him, you noticed that he looked even more tanned than the last time you saw him.

"Oh, hi," you accepted his handshake and then Allen took a seat across from you. "I've been better," your other hand was still holding a newspaper and it caught Paul's attention. "What about you?"

Paul nodded in understanding. "Well, my job kicks my ass, is all I can say," he laughed, and before you could say anything else, he pointed to the copy of the New York Times. "What are you reading?"

Slightly embarrassed, you folded the paper and put it aside. "Times," you replied briefly. "The tobacco store I liked to visit was robbed in broad daylight. Can you imagine that?"

Allen shifted in his seat. "I didn't know you frequented places like this," he chuckled, finally opening the menu. "Because I don't remember you smoking."

Smirking, you leaned back in your chair. "You don't know anything about me, Allen," you took a sip of your wine and watched him tense up a bit. "Anyway, I just got a little upset because I wanted to buy something in this store for..." you suddenly stammered, feeling dizzy.

"For...?" Paul arched his eyebrows and looked at you suspiciously.

"For a person... ," you finished. "...a very special one."

"Your date?" The man asked in a playful tone. "And who might that be?"

You found this situation quite ironic, because you really imagined yourself going to that store and buying those fucking cigars, hoping they would impress Bateman, and now you ended up fucking his best friends because he married Evelyn Williams.

As you propped yourself up on your elbow, you suddenly started to laugh, but then it turned into a pathetic whimper. "I'm so fucked up, Allen," you shook your head and gripped the table. "You can't even imagine how... fucked up... I am."

And I don't know how I'm going to survive this.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

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meeludrawz · 13 days

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hello! I seen some of ur writing and it’s GREAT! could you maybe write an Izuku x Reader one?? Maybe a movie night.

A/N: Of course I can!! <3 I loved doing this one!

Movie Night - Izuku Midoriya x Reader

"Hey baby?" Izuku's head popped in the entrance of your shared bedroom.

"Hm?" You looked up from your book.

He walked in with a bright smile, now that he fully had your attention.

"I've been thinking-"

You interrupted him with a raised eyebrow. "Something wrong?" He shook his hands in a defensive way. "Ah- No no no! Nothing's wrong! Everything is perfect- I mean.." He scratched the back of his head. You frowned a bit, something was definitely wrong but you let him continue. "I just thought that now I'm a pro hero.. I- Just have less time with you and I've felt bad about that"

Your expression softened. "Izuku.. We've already talked about this, I don't mind. As song as you still come back home safe"

"I know, I know, it's not that, I just-" He sighed, chuckled, then reached out his hand for you. "I can't find my words, I've never been really good at.. Being 'cheesy'.. I mean, talking romantically, like flirting and all-"

You grabbed his hand and giggled. "You were trying to flirt?"

"No! I mean! Maybe?" His freckled face was red even though he gave you a little smirk. "Come, I wanna show you something!"

He dragged you downstairs to the living room. Your house was kinda big for just the two of you but he was a pro now and he had lots of money. He never cared about it, but maybe he had bought that big house because he was planning on having a family? There were some unused rooms, but even if your theory was right-

Your thoughts were interrupted when you walked in the living room. The curtains were all closed, a blanket fort was put in front of the tv, pillows, snacks, fairy lights- It was a literal tiny paradise.

Izuku smiled brightly at you. "Do you.. Remember the last time we did that?"

You smiled as brightly even though a pinch of nostalgia hit you. "Of course, we were at UA, you had a broken arm and recovery girl had to use her quirk multiple times to fully heal you"

You two, back in UA, had scheduled a date but with his injury.. You had to report it to later and you had both been very disappointed. But before he could get his second appointment with the lady, you had snuck into his bedroom and made him a blanket fort. So your date had been saved! And he had cried, of course, but hey, you cried a bit too.

Since then, even if it hadn't been so long since you graduated, you two were inseparable.

He smiled again, glad that you remembered your first date with him. "I've grabbed our favourite snacks and movies" He crawled into the blanket fort and plopped down, lying on his side. Izuku then reached his hand out and you gladly took it before crawling into the fort too.

You snuggled your back against his chest and he wrapped a blanket around the both of you.

After choosing a movie, you just watched him for a couple of minutes. He was just so pretty. His eyes.. His hair.. His freckles.. Honestly, no one was better than him as a boyfriend. He had the best heart a human could have and it was all yours.

You gave him a quick peck on his cheek. His face flushed red out of surprise, as you had taken him off guard.

Deku looked at you, confused a little but he quickly pulled you, no, imprisoned you against his chest and flooded you with a shower of kisses on every part, that he could reach, of your body.

Right now, nothing mattered. The end of the world could happen and you wouldn't care at all, because he loved you and you loved him.

Even if you forgot to actually watch the movie.

#thank you for the ask!#Deku can't flirt #he gets too flustered #deku #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #my writing #mha oneshot #bnha oneshot

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prettyinpwn · 2 months

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What is your opinion on Filbrick Pines?

Oh boy... long story short, my opinion on him is pretty low, not gonna lie. I went into his character a lot in my analysis post on Ford's writing (found here), since Filbrick had a large effect on Stan and Ford's characters, even if only in subtle ways. To summarize my points on Filbrick:

Definitely abusive, in my opinion. I don't think physically, but for sure emotionally and mentally. He's the type of father who provided materially, but otherwise didn't seem very good at it.

Was way too focused on money. Now, I think it's very possible that Filbrick could have a great backstory reason for this. My biggest guess is a life of poverty and wanting to provide better for his family, but the cruel irony is that in seeking wealth, he hurt his family (e.g "Stanley, by "sabotaging" Ford you hurt our whole family, because he was going to make us millions, so I'm gonna throw you out, ignoring the fact that by throwing you out I'm currently hurting the family in the way I'm accusing you of."). He also hurt Ford. The way Filbrick treated Ford was like a Willy Wonka golden ticket. "Oh, you're smart? This college might make you a millionaire? I'm impressed!". He didn't care about what Ford wanted, he cared about what Ford's brains could get him. Case in point: he didn't seem to give a rat's ass about Ford's brains or college dreams until the principal implied it could make money.

Iirc, according to Hirsch, the quote Stan says in Little Gift Shop of Horrors ("Movies are great! You watch the movie, you scare the girl, the girl snuggles up next to you, next thing you know you gotta raise a kid. Your life falls apart. Forget that last part.") was actually something Filbrick used to say. Like DEAR GOD Filbrick said that in front of Stan and Ford? "Hey kids, my life was great until I got your ma knocked up with Shermie, and then my life was pure suck after that.". Like... who... who just says that in front of their kids? Who even THINKS that about their kids? Yikes.

The way Stan and Ford are named. The code at the end of A Tale of Two Stans is played as a joke, but when you think about it, it's... kinda sad. "A STUBBORN TOUGH NEW JERSEY NATIVE, FILBRICK WASN'T TOO CREATIVE, HAVING TWINS WAS NOT HIS PLAN, SO HE JUST SHRUGGED AND NAMED BOTH STAN.". Filbrick did not give a single f*ck. "Oh, I have twins? Eh, I'm too lazy to think about a name, just call 'em practically the same thing.". What father does this?

In the post I linked above, I also hinted at how I thought Bill's manipulations of Ford almost were a mirror echo of Filbrick (even in their character design, it's odd how they both have yellow brick and blue with hats themed designs, he's got the literal word 'brick' in his name, etc). Because when you think about it, what did Ford's father teach him but "you are a puppet to be used by me to get what I want"?

There's a reason Ford and Stan are incredibly broken people, and it all started with Filbrick. He's the one that taught Stan to believe he's worthless and a f*ckup, and the one that taught Ford that he's a tool to be used. So... nah, not a fan of the guy, if I didn't make that obvious already lol. BUT... I will say this, as this is something I did give him credit for in my Ford analysis post: a lot of Ford and Stan's positive qualities are things he passed down to them, namely their protectiveness of family and "toughness". But unlike Filbrick, who manifested that in toxic ways, Stan and Ford took a heavy albatross necklace of generational trauma and turned it around to a positive.

This goes even further when Stan passes the lesson to Dipper. Dipper learning to "fight back"? That's a family lesson that comes from Filbrick, originally, when he signed Stan and Ford up for boxing. Some have criticized the way Stan taught Dipper that lesson, but you can't argue with the end result:

TL;DR: Filbrick mostly sucks, but... like most well-written characters, he does have some gray area. Was he a good father? No. But the gauntlet meat grinder he put Ford and Stan through - worth it or not - made them the tough family protectors they are as adults. I will give him that, at least.

#pipanswers #filbrick pines #tw abuse #gravity falls #stanford pines #stanley pines

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albertasunrise · 1 year

Text

Seeing Things - Oops Baby

Masterlist

Summary: Being best friends with Frankie meant movie nights, drinks with the guys and a shoulder to cry on when you got your hear broken. He is head over heels for you but you don’t feel the same… yet a drunken mistake will tie your lives together forever!

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+ (So... I am trying to update my other pics but the reaction I getting from this ones really giving me the motivation to continue it... so thank you and I hope you enjoy this update! ♥️ It's not a super long one but everything gonna become clear I promise!)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

In the weeks that followed, the sightings of you only increased. You seemed to be everywhere he looked, asking him the same thing over and over again.

Come back to me

He wished he knew what you wanted. Surely you didn't want him to leave little Esme? You would never have wanted him to hurt himself so why did you ask him to go back to him? You were dead!

"I brought you your favourites." He stated plainly as he pulled out the old bouquet of flowers Ben had brought you the week before. He poured out the stagnant water and replenished it with some from the bottle of water he'd stashed in his pack. Then, just as you had shown him on one of the many evenings you'd spent together, he arranged them carefully, sure to make sure they were just how you would have liked them.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited sooner." He said as he got to his feet and rubbed the back of his neck nervously "Things have been busy with the baby and work... Don't want to bore you with the details but ya know... It's been hard." He let out a long sigh as he scraped his hand over his face to wipe away the traitorous tears that tracked down his cheeks "Esme's getting so big so fast." He continued "You should see her Titch, the spitting image of you! With the addition of my hair and eyes." He chuckled.

His eyes traced over the words carved into your headstone.

The words Here Lies carved in an elegant font followed by your first name and last name, 'Titch' at the end by request of Ben

Friend and Mother

Forever loved

Never forgotten

Ben had selected the words. Frankie hadn't been able to bring himself to do it so the younger Miller had stepped up. Taking the 'anything I can do to help' statement he'd made to Fish when you'd died so literally.

"Seeing you everywhere is killing me Titch." Frankie said after a short pause "Is this what you meant? Come to me, did you mean this? Because I am wracking my brains baby, trying to understand what it is you want from me." He sobbed "The guys all think I'm losing the plot but I know you're there. Just out of eyeshot or something and I know you're trying to tell me something so please... help me understand Titch."

He paused, his eyes locked on the headstone as he let out a shaky breath before pleading one last time.

"Please..."

"Frankie." Your voice made him just and his head shot up, scanning the surroundings for you.

"Frankie please..." You pleaded "Please don't leave me."

No matter where he looked he couldn't see you. But he could hear you like you were right beside him.

"What do you mean?" He begged, tears openly spilling down his cheeks "I'm here Titch... Baby I'm here!"

"Please don't leave me, Frankie." You repeat, your tone breaking his heart as he desperately looked for you among the headstones "I can't do this without you."

This statement let Frank's brows draw together. What did you mean by that? He was the one who'd been left behind. Your pleads disappeared like smoke on the wind and Frankie was left with the sound of his own breathing and the rattling of branches. He pressed his palms firmly against his eyes as he tried to slow his breathing, his pounding heart hammering against his ribs.

"I can't do this." He whispered to no one in particular, allowing the dam to break "Fuck I can't... I can't cope with this."

You didn't say anything else and Frankie audibly groaned before pushing himself to his feet. He didn't understand why you were doing this. Torturing him. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

...

"Well, ain't that better Lil' Titch?" Ben said as he finished fastening her babygrow "Uncle Ben's not so bad at this huh?"

Esme smiled in reply, her legs kicking and arms waving in visible excitement before he scooped her into his arms and planted a big kiss on her cheek. She settled quickly on his shoulder and he smiled as she let out a little sigh and closed her eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.

"Shit Titch... I wish you could see how perfect she is." He whispered as he placed a kiss on the infant's brow.

"Hands off... she's mine." Frank teased as he walked into the lounge, grinning as his best friend cuddled his daughter so closely.

"You gotta share the baby Fish!." Ben chuckled as he gently gingerly sat on the couch.

“Yeah, yeah...” Frank grumbled as he waved off his friend, traipsing to the kitchen to fetch a beer.

“How’d it go?” Ben asked when the older man reappeared, giving him a sympathetic smile as he watched him sit on the armchair across from him.

“How’d what go?”

“Seeing Titch!”

“Was fine.” Frankie shrugged, fooling no one once again.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Ben pushed and Frankie groaned.

“Ben…”

“You gotta talk about this shit man!” Ben pushed, pleading with his eyes for his friend to just open up to him.

“You won’t believe me!”

“Why would you-“

“I heard Titch again.” Frank snapped, keeping his voice low so he didn’t wake his baby.

“What do you mean you heard her?”

“I keep hearing her talking to me. Sometimes I see her and she always says the same thing!”

“Which is?”

"To go back to her." Frank replied, scraping a shaky hand over his face.

"Go back to her?"

"Yes, Ben!" He snarled "And today she was begging me not to leave her!" He choked "But she left me Ben!... I loved her and she left me all alone..." He trailed off as he broke down into tears, head in his hands.

Ben got up and placed Esme in her Moses basket with practised ease before sitting on the arm of the chair Frank was sitting in and pulling him close.

"I can't do this..." He sobbed and Ben sighed "I don't know what she wants from me."

"Fish... this is just your brain's way of holding onto her." Ben sighed "We all deal with grief in different ways... Shit, I keep listening to the last voicemail she left me over and over again just so I don't forget her voice!"

"No!" Frank all but shrieked "That's not what this is Ben! It's her I know it is!"

"You can't seriously believe Titch is haunting you, man!" Ben sighed as he stood up to check on Esme as she started to fuss.

"I don't know how else to explain it, Ben!" He growled "I keep seeing her everywhere and she keeps repeating the same thing over and over!"

"Fish-"

"But then today she said something different." Frankie interrupted " She begged me not to leave her... Told me she couldn't do this without me..." He trailed off whilst nervously pacing his lounge "What does that even mean? She can't do this without me... She can't be dead without me? Doesn't make any fucking sense!"

"Fish... Man, you need to calm down!" Ben pleaded, noting how breathless the pilot has suddenly become "This won't be doing your heart any good man!"

"My heart's fine!" The older man grumbled.

"You say that but this can't be good for you!" Ben warned "Just take a breath man... I believe you, okay! I believe you saw her."

"You're just saying that." Fish scoffed, rolling his eyes when Ben frantically shook his head.

"I'm really not okay!" The younger man pleaded "Just... Just please."

Frankie sighed as he ran a shaky hand through his mussed hair. His eyes then drifted to Esme who was staring over at him with her large, teary eyes. His heart ached and he was quick to scoop her up into his arms and lay a soothing kiss on the crown of her head.

"I'm sorry baby girl." He whispered as he bounced her gently in his arms "I just miss your mummy so much."

"We all do brother." Ben said as he placed a comforting hand on Frankie's back "I'm not trying to say that I even remotely understand the pain you're feeling brother but know that I miss her so much it hurts... And that I am here! Whatever you need..."

Frankie nodded, giving his friend a weak smile before resting his cheek on the top of Esme's head.

"I know Ben." He said softly "Thanks."

"Any time." Ben replied, giving his friend a friendly wink before grabbing his stuff to leave "See you tomorrow for dinner yeah?"

"Sure." The pilot replied softly "See you then."

...

"Why the fuck did you pick a restaurant that didn't have a parking lot asshole!" Ben grumbled as he pushed Esme's pram along the pavement, the steep hill making it a little harder.

"It had good reviews okay!" Will grumbled, "It's not that bad!"

"You're not the one pushing a pram up a 90-degree hill!" Ben grumbled, pulling a smirk from Frankie.

"You offered brother!" Frank pointed out, sniggering at the groan that he received in reply "I can take her if you're struggling."

"I am not struggling!" Ben argued and Fish threw his hands up in surrender.

"We're nearly there!" Will piped up "Just across the street."

The three of them reached the crossing, breathing a small sigh of relief when the restaurant came into view. Will crossed first with Ben following closely behind him. Something had distracted Frankie, leading him to step out a few steps behind his friends but your voice calling his name stopped him in his tracks and he looked to his left, your figure illuminated by a bright white light.

"Come back to me." You pleaded as you always did and Frankie froze. Tears sprouted as he looked at you smiling back at him as you held your hand out to him "Come back to me."

You disappeared as quickly as you appeared, a horn sounding before Ben screamed his name. Then suddenly he was flying for a brief moment before his body connected with something solid and he rolled over it before hitting the ground with a sickening crunch.

"FISH!!" Ben screamed as he ran to the pilot's side, hands shaking as he took in his friend's condition "Fish stay with me." He choked as he saw how bent and broken the older man looked.

Frankie winced as he turned his head, noting how Will was standing with the pram as he frantically spoke to who he assumed was the emergency service on his phone. He also noted that the driver who had hit him was nowhere to be seen.

Hit and run.

"Ben." He coughed after he spoke, blood filling his throat at an alarming rate.

"Shhhh." He hushed the man and stroked his hair, desperately trying to keep himself together "Just keep breathing for my Fishsticks!" He pleaded 'Please don't leave me..."

His last statement blended into yours. He could hear you again, pleading not to leave you and he only felt more confused. He was dying... it was clear that he was so surely he was going back to you.

Surely you should be happy?

"Please, Frankie... Please don't leave me."

You pleaded... your voice shaky.

"I'm coming Titch." He whispered. His eyes fell shut as darkness took him.

"What's happening?" You sobbed as hands moved you from the room.

"He's crashing!" Stated someone in the room and you shook your head as you were pushed into the hallway, still able to see everything through the glass walls of Frankie's room.

"Please, Frankie... Please don't leave me." You sobbed "Please..."

Another set of hands pulled you away but not before you witnessed them shock the man you loved, desperately trying to restart the heart that was supposed to save him. You were placed in a room where you had spent more time than you cared to remember in the past month and a half. Hours sat waiting for news on whether Frankie was going to pull through.

He'd gotten the heart he so desperately needed yet for close to two months he'd been in a coma, fighting battle after battle. This was just the latest in a long list of complications he'd suffered.

Kidney Failure... Infection... His body had even rejected the donor heart but that was something they had managed to detect early. It seemed his body just refused to get better, even if his mind wasn't willing to let go.

"What's happening?" Asked Ben as he stepped into the room after being directed here by a nurse, his brows tightly drawn in concern.

"He crashed." You sobbed as you threw your head into your hands.

"What?... What caused it?"

"I don't know." You replied, shaking your head "They dragged me in here as they tried to bring him back... I haven't heard anything yet."

Ben nodded solemnly as he sat down beside you, handing you Esme when you held your arms out to receive her. You needed to hold your baby.

"Why won't he get better Ben?" You sobbed as your eyes locked with his.

"He's really poorly." He replied softly "He needs time to get better."

"But that's just it... He's not getting better!"

"He will, Titch." Ben assured you and you sighed.

"How do you know that?"

"Because he's got something to fight for." He stated plainly.

The two of you then sat in that room for what felt like hours, glad of Esme to keep you somewhat distracted from what the outcome of this latest setback might be. The doctor appeared sometime later. His expression was difficult to read.

"How is he Doc?" Ben asked, holding your free hand tightly in his.

"We managed to bring him back." The doctor announced, "He's weak and we have had to up his anti-rejection meds."

"He's rejecting the heart again?"

"He never technically stopped." The doctor stated "We have been able to keep it under control with medication. He seems to be responding well though and we're hopeful."

You both breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief, glad that finally, something was going right.

"There's something else though." The doctor stated and both you and Ben shared a grim glance before looking at the doctor again.

"What is it?" You asked, your voice shaking slightly.

"He's awake."

For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog

#frankie morales × reader #frankie morales × you #frankie 'catfish' morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales triple frontier #francisco morales triple frontier #francisco morales × you #francisco morales fanfiction #francisco morales #francisco morales × reader #triple frontier x you #triple frontier × reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal

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calmcal · 2 years

Text

roommate adjacent -steve harrington

PART ONE - UNEXPECTED VISITORS

summary: A comprehensive list of why Robin Buckley is the best roommate in all of history; written by Y/N (and Robin Buckley....) one: she has the best movie recommendations for any mood, in all genres, for anytime of the year. two: she has a killer sense of fashion, total grunge/rock and roller/thrift store buying chic. three: she's not afraid to call anyone out on their dingus behaviours (and it happens a lot... hey!) and finally: her best friend steve...yeah. pairing: modern steve harrington x fem!reader word count: 2.9k note: hi, yes, welcome! this has been sitting in my drafts for far to long, it's been on my mind far longer than i'd care to admit. so i finally sat down and planned it all out, so enjoy this purely self indulgent steve fic I have literally fallen in love with! this first part is a little short, with very little steve, but i promise it get's better, so bare with me!

There's a universal hatred that's shared between those who can't drive, stormy weather. It's a common enemy they all share, the threatening grey clouds that loom over everyone, cackling at the thought of downpouring on some poor unexpecting souls. Drenching their clothes, soaking them to the bone, sticking them with the dreaded shivers and in worse case scenarios, gifting them with the god awful flu.

Yes it's a formidable foe.

One you were currently battling.

And loosing rather pitifully.

You held an umbrella tight in your hands, air whipping around you like a whirlwind, threatening to blow you down with a single gust. Well that might have been over exaggerating, but it was well within range to rip the umbrella from your iron grip. Splattering raindrops fell heavily on the small plastic tarp that made up the umbrella, sloshing down the pointed top and landing around your feet in little puddles. Stray drops slipping onto her cheeks, coating your skin with a sheen of cold water.

A shiver passed over your spine, winter was finally settling into your cozy little college town, and the weather was coming in full force. You wouldn't have been surprised if it started snowing tomorrow, but that was another battle, right now, you were more concerned with making it back to your dorm room in once piece.

And hopefully, mostly dry.

But it seemed the sky gods heard your hopeful pleas, and in your attempt in keeping dry, another strong gust blew your umbrella straight up, bending the little metal rods holding the plastic top covering your head, blowing back and exposing your entire body to the onslaught of rain.

"Crap!" You cried out, trying to reign in your clearly out of control umbrella.

But the wind had other ideas, blowing and bellowing around you, like it was laughing at your attempt. You tried to pry the arms of the umbrella back the right way, the way it was supposed to look, but the frail little arms screeched out in protest, wanting to follow the current of the wind, rather than your hand.

You grumbled a few nasty curse words at the umbrella, fulling knowing it wasn't going to cooperate.

You looked in the direction of your building, it wasn't far, another two minutes or so, you contemplated the thought of just making a run for it, leaving your umbrella behind, or standing there like a dingus, trying to fix something that was clearly broken for good.

The rain was splattering down heavier now, flattening your hair to your head, making it a little difficult to see, making your clothes stick to your shivering skin, goosebumps raising on every inch of exposed skin.

You bit your lip, thinking for a moment.

"Stupid piece of plastic" You spat at the umbrella, throwing it at your feet, like the offending pieces of metal and plastic had scorned you. "Can't even do the one job you were made for"

No one would blame you for leaving the umbrella on the walkway, clearly noticing the broken arms and upside down cone. No one was going to condemn you for littering, it's an act of kindness really, more than the umbrella deserved.

You hiked your back further up your shoulder, crossing your arms over your chest, tilting your head down a little. It did little to keep you dry, but you were a lost cause the moment your umbrella died, you'd given up on keeping dry. You made quick and precise steps towards your building, ignoring the chill that is slowly settling into your skin.

As if tormenting you, a clap of thunder boomed from somewhere behind you, and the rain followed tenfold, pelting you with icy drops of water.

"Shit!" You muttered, using your hands to cover your head from their harsh impact.

Now you were making a run for it.

Forget keeping equal steps to keep from slipping in the puddles that lined the sidewalk, you didn't care anymore, you needed to get out of the storm before the clouds decided they wanted to drown you in the middle of your college campus.

With a huffing laugh you reached the building, pulling the thick wooden doors open with a strength you didn't know you possessed. Warm air whipping around your water slicked skin, goosebumps returning. You took a deep breath, inhaling the warm air, filling your lungs.

You trudged up the stairs to the third floor, the elevator seemingly always out of order, you seriously cursed this day. Puddles formed around your feet with every step you took, squelching under your boots, making you cringe, thinking about the poor person who had to use the stairs after you, stepping into a wet surprise.

It was only water, they'd be fine, right?

You didn't care anymore, all you cared about was getting back to your dorm and getting out of these stupidly drenched clothes.

You breathed out a sigh of pure delight at the sight of your door, decorated with a whiteboard, your roommates squiggly writing covering the white backdrop.

Be back soon, meeting up with a friend, love Robin ❤️

You felt glad that Robin wasn't in the room, the last thing you needed was your roommate laughing at your misfortune. She'd do it out of love, obviously, but unnecessary love.

Having Robin Buckley as a roommate was a blessing. You'd been so scared that you'd have to share a small room with someone you didn't like, someone who didn't know personal boundaries, who didn't know how to keep a clean room or possibly even worse, someone who was obnoxiously boring.

But on the first day, you got stuck with Robin. A girl who was socially awkward and charmingly outgoing at the same time. She'd talked your ear off the first minute you met her, before falling silent when she realised you hadn't even introduced yourself to her. You loved her the moment you met, couldn't have asked for a better roommate.

She shared her love of movies with you, having the most expansive collection of movies on a hard drive, everything from the biggest blockbuster of all time, to weird indie movies in different languages. She had an expressive way of dressing, one day she'd wearing clashing colours of yellow pink, collared shirts with blocky stripes, khaki pants that you were sure didn't belong to her (they were like two sizes too big), to wearing black on black, chunky bracelets, layers of necklaces decorating her neck, black pleated skirts paired with ripped tights. On any given day, it was always a surprise; what Robin was going to wear.

You loved her confidence.

But with her confidence grew with you, the more she felt comfortable on calling you out on your 'dingus behaviours', a favourite of Robin's creative pass times. She didn't do it often, and she was well within her right when she did it.

Coming into your shared room, dripping wet, a dingus move indeed.

You were really glad she wasn't home right now.

You, with much difficulty, unlocked the door. You slung your bag off your shoulder, letting it plop down on the floor beside the door, ignoring the plopping sound that followed, following your slightly less damp boots, with a heavy thud. Trying to peel your coat from your soaking wet body, a different story, the fabric ignoring your pleas to cooperate. Clinging to you like a second skin, heavy with water.

With a huff, a lot of tugging and pulling, and a few jumps here and there, your coat finally fell from your body, landing on the floor with your bag.

"I hate the rain" You muttered to yourself, hanging the coat on the coat rack.

You trudged further into the room, bypassing the couch and the little kitchenet, heading straight for the small bathroom. You switched of the flickering light, waiting for a second, before the tiled room was lit up with dim yellow light.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror.

Gah!

Well, you've certainly looked better.

Your hair was plastered to your forehead, stray strands sticking to your damp cheeks. Your white sweater was clinging to you, like a fluffy second skin, weighing you down by half a pound. You were dreading trying to take that off, and you didn't even want to think about your drenched jeans.

Wet denim, what a nightmare.

You smoothed the strands of hair from your face, twisting your hair into a low ponytail, wringing the water from your hair into the sink.

"Hey, I'm back!" Robin's voice reached your ears, sounding like she'd swung the door wide open, probably expecting you to have been sitting on the couch. "Whoa, what's with the water park in the doorway?"

"Sorry" You called out in return, scrunching your sweater up, wringing the water out of that too, not that it did much.

You sighed, deciding it was better if you just took it off. You lifted the hem of the sweater from your body, cringing again as the fabric clung to your damp skin.

"Planning a fun extra curricular without me?" Robin's teasing remark followed.

"Funny" You muttered, pulling the fabric halfway up your torso, tugging harshly, pulling left and right to loosen the sweater, huffing, a little out of breath. "I'm calling it, this has literally been the worst day of my life"

"Feeling over dramatic are we?" Robin chuckled, her voice sounding a little closer now.

"I feel I deserve the right to be over dramatic" Your voice was muffled by your sweater, having got it over your chest, now the neck was stuck.

You gave a little tug, wincing a little as it gave a little struggle, but a tug and a wiggle allowed it to give way, leaving you clad in your wet jeans, semi dry white cotton bra, and a sweater that continued to drip on the tile floor held in your hands.

"My umbrella decided to die on me, right at the moment the rain kicked up a notch, not to mention the wind, totally uncool" You continued after taking the sweater off, throwing it in the washing basket, a problem for future Y/N.

You took a towel from the hanger, swiping it across your skin, trying your best to dry yourself off, before turning your attention to your hair, wrapping the scratching fabric around the dripping strands, the towel sitting tall atop your head.

"I keep telling you, you need to get your licence" Robin's singsong tone teased.

"Yeah, cause I'm gonna take advice from my roommate, who also doesn't have a licence" You retorted playfully, switching the bathroom light off.

"Yeah, and if you get yours, you can take me places instead" Robin matter of factly replied, sounding smug in her idea. "It's a win, win"

"For you maybe" You muttered, feeling gross still wearing your wet jeans. "I've decided that wet denim was invented by satan, just to torture me"

Robin snorted.

You rounded the corner, not looking in Robin's direction, so used to walking around your roommate in a half state of dress. Robin had become accustomed to the act very quickly, living in such close quarters with someone, got you comfortable rather quickly, alarmingly so.

"Seriously, it's itchy, and it just sticks to you in all the wrong places" You whined, looking through the clean piles of clothes you left on the back of the couch, looking for a pair of your pajama pants.

"So, don't wear jeans when it rains"

"Hilarious, become a comedian would ya?"

"It's my backup plan, you know, if this whole college thing doesn't work out"

"You've got potential"

"Clearly"

"Your overconfident too, it works"

"Maybe you should put some more clothes on, I think you're freaking Steve out" Robin sounded like she was holding back a cackle.

You paused, lifting your eyes from the pile of clothes in your hands, to see Robin standing in the kitchenet, but she wasn't alone.

Steve, Robin's best friend, a man you've met only a handful of times, was standing beside Robin. Trying his best to look anywhere but your half dressed figure, cheeks turning a bright shade of red, arms crossed over his chest as he tried his best to act nonchalant, shifting his weight from his left leg, to his right.

You took a moment to admire him, what with him avoiding all eye contact. Taking in the way his hair seemingly flopped just the right way, brown strands looking perfectly styled, but in a way that one might mistake it for an effortless look. He was wearing a dark blue t-shirt, a shirt that stretched right across his broad shoulders, looking a little tight around his chest, biceps peeking out of the sleeve, giving you a free show of his tensed muscles. His shirt was tucked into a pair of blue jeans, black belt separating the two tones of blue, a white and grey windbreaker was tied around his waist.

The outfit shouldn't have looked at good, but Steve seemed to make it work... he made it look cute.

All taunt and lean figure just leaning against the stove.

"Sorry Steve" You replied, feeling your cheeks warm.

"It's cool, it's your room, so whatever... Not whatever, I mean, you can undress all you want, NO, wait--" Steve stumbled over his words, still trying to not look at you, but he slipped up a few times, eyes trailing over her half dresses torso, cheeks turning even redder each time.

"Dingus" Robin muttered.

"I'm just... I'm gonna go and get changed, in my room" You replied, feeling embarrassed.

"Good, this is common space, respect it" Robin joked.

"Shut up" You retorted, taking your clothes in your arms, flinging your hand back, flipping your roommate off, which brought out the cackle Robin was stuffing back.

You huffed.

So much for that impression.

Steve probably though you were crazy.

All the talk of wet jeans and your stupid umbrella story, you wouldn't blame Steve for thinking you're out of your mind, who still had a little twinge of pink on his cheeks and couldn't quite make eye contact with you.

You tried your best to shake the thoughts from your mind, heading to your room, to change, and quite possibly bury yourself under your covers, never to be seen again.

"What was that?"

It wasn't the sound of Robin's shill voice that made Steve jump, it was the harsh slap that followed the question. Her palm slapping right across his arm, a harsh smacking sound rang though his ears.

"Ow!" Steve exclaimed, cupping his assaulted arm. "W-what was that for?!"

"For ogling my roommate like she's walking porn" Robin remarked with a knowing look, raising a brow.

"That wasn't what happened and you know it" Steve's eyes narrowed, looking at Robin with an annoyance she acquainted with his motherly persona.

"It's what it looked like from here"

Steve huffed, knowing no matter what he said, Robin was going to argue back tenfold with him, it was one of the few things she was good at.

"I didn't even look at her, I was being a gentleman" Steve narrowed his eyes, letting Robin know, this wasn't up for debate anymore.

"After you stared at her boobs for like, a whole minute" Robin muttered, pushing Steve with her shoulder, walking away from the taller man, practically throwing herself on the couch.

"That didn't happen!" Steve shouted, pointing a finger at Robin.

"Sure it didn't Stevie" Robin hummed, looking to smug for her own good.

Robin was only making this a big deal because Steve had mentioned, on a few occasions, that he thought her roommate was cute. He'd often ask Robin how you were, how college was treating the both of you, but paying keen attention whenever she mentioned you. Allowing his eyes to linger on you, the very few times he saw you in person, never having the courage to say more than a few words to you (something Robin torments him with on the daily, his lack of skills with women). He'd even made the grave mistake of asking Robin if you were single once, she couldn't stop gushing over his little crush on you, she never let him forget it.

But it wasn't a crush.

It wasn't!

Steve didn't know you well enough to put a name to whatever it was he was feeling, it certainly wasn't a crush. But he'd be lying if he didn't think you were insanely attractive, and seeing you in a pair of jeans that looked like a second skin stuck to your thighs, making your butt look all the more fuller and perky. Not to mention the bra, if Steve thought about it too long, he was sure he was going to pitch a tent. If he closed his eyes, he could picture your smooth skin, all supple and glistening with droplets of water. The cotton bra wasn't fancy, but it made your breasts look perky and ready for his awaiting hands--

No, stop it!

Steve shook his head, a little harder than he intended, to try and shake the thoughts of you from his mind.

The last thing he needed was for you to come back into the room and see Steve standing in your little kitchenet with a boner.

Yeah, that wasn't going to get him anywhere.

"She lives!" Robin's voice brought him back for good.

"Reluctantly so" Your soft voice returned the humour, throwing yourself onto the other end of the couch, still a little flustered, courtesy of Steve.

You turned your head, making eye contact with Steve. You gave a subtle smile, tilting your head.

"It's fine Steve, really" You shook your head, as if reading his inner thoughts. "It's not a big deal, forgotten already"

#steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington au #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things drabble #stranger things au #roommate adjacent

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ivylation · 9 months

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Love in Chaos (Carlos Olivera x Reader)

Tws- mentions of blood

2nd post, hope you enjoy <3 ill be writing alot carlos in the future so lmk whatd you want you want to see with him !!

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You and Carlos both faced the dangers of Raccoon City side by side, Carlos's confident flirtatious tendencies and your quiet self created an almost movie like relationship. He would throw cringey pickup lines your way, met with bright red faces, small giggles, and occasional eye rolls at his worst lines. Amidst the chaos he never stops throwing jokes at you, he lives to see you smile, you just didn't know that.

One evening, as the setting sun painted the broken skyline in hues of orange and pink, you and Carlos found yourselves on the rooftop of an abandoned building. The air is thick with smoke and an almost calming sensation, which is rare in the chaos filled time.

Carlos, true to his nature, leaned in with an exaggerated flourish. "You know," he began, both gazes kept locked on the setting sun in front of you both. “You look really cute today” you turn to him caught off guard by the sudden compliment, “you say that everyday” you roll your eyes, ears pink. Carlos still looking at they sky, his dark shaggy hair blowing in the soft breeze. “Thats because youre cute everyday” he shrugs and turns his head to look down at you. “Bullshit” you smile softly “im covered with mud and blood” you look down at your bruised body thats full of a mix of yours and the victims of your knife.

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "Even with the mud and blood, you manage to be the most captivating thing in this city," he says, his tone sincere. Carlos reaches over, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a gentle touch. You always assumed he was joking but something felt different this time,the look in his eyes, he was being serious.

You gained a small crush on the large man over the weeks of being together, how could you not? He had dark eyes that seemed to only soften on you, he was funny, determined and kind and holy shit was he hot. His large arms as he held his gun to fight off the zombies that suddenly caught you off guard, his pretty skin that is coated with shine due to the fires. His large hands as they gripped your wrists to pull you out of dangers way. He was hot. Like really hot.

You never pursued the crush and pushed it out of your mind as there was a literal zombie apocalypse happening and there was no time for a silly little crush. That was hard when you see the man everyday.

You can't help but blush at his words, a mixture of embarrassment and appreciation filling your chest. The apocalypse had left its mark on both of you, physically and emotionally, yet Carlos's unrelenting flattery remained a constant; it made you feel validated and loved even when you're at your lowest of lows.

"I mean it," he continues, his eyes tracing the contours of your face. "You're like a survivor goddess amidst all this chaos. Mud and blood included."

You chuckle, couldn't help but cringe a little at his use of words, still a bit bashful under his gaze. "Survivor goddess, huh? I'm not sure about that."

Carlos nudges you playfully. "Oh, absolutely. You fight off zombies and still manage to look adorable. It's a rare talent."

You shake your head, smiling at his antics. "Well, if I'm a survivor goddess, you're the charming rogue who keeps distracting me with compliments."

He grins, leaning in once more, this time planting a soft kiss on your lips. "Guilty as charged," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. You just stared at him, taken aback, your face bright red and hot. You knew there was no passing over this crush.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the broken city, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth in your heart. In the midst of the apocalypse, amidst mud, blood, and chaos, there was an unexpected connection that transcended the grim reality--one Carlos Olivera himself created.

_____

#carlos olivera #carlos oliveira x reader #resident evil 3 #re3 remake #2nd post #carlos olivera fic #resident evil #fluff

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reasonsmandy · 1 year

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Gold dust woman

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by @accidrainonme — if you made one based off of gold dust woman by fleetwood mac i’d go insane omg

✧.* summary — Eddie has been dealing with a lot lately, and after getting his heart broken he goes in search of the only person in the world who brings him peace: you.

✧.* warnings — Heartbroken Eddie :(((

✧.* word count — 1.5k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I tried a lot to do something faithful to the music, I don't know if I succeeded but I really liked the result. Hope you like it too :)

Eddie had been through the hardest week of his life, Billy as always was being the biggest asshole in the world and the fact that he didn't solve things with Camila only made everything worse. The bassist had been in love with her for many years and that day seeing her so wonderful, looking stunning next to someone like Billy had made everything worse.

After a show they were all celebrating in Daisy's room, Warren looked super excited singing the song in the background, Graham was having fun talking to another group of people, and Karen was dancing with Daisy.

Roundtree couldn't stop thinking about the frustration he felt seeing the woman he loved next to the person he hated the most, he didn't understand how someone like Billy had everything he wanted.

And now he found himself isolated from the others, sitting in a chair while trying to hold back his tears. The conversation he had with Camila earlier tore his heart apart, all he wanted was to show her that he could make her happier, but that wasn't what she wanted so there wasn't much he could do, despite watching her from afar.

Watching her dance with him made him want to throw chlorine in his eyes, and when he couldn't take it anymore he decided to leave that place. He gets up still with the same beer in hand, going down the stairs with the intention of walking aimlessly around, he didn't know why everything cooperated for him to feel so insignificant, he started little by little to believe in all that.

The bassist took a sip from his bottle as he walked down the dimly lit street, and while he wandered in his thoughts, he remembered that a few blocks away you would probably be lying on your couch watching some random show. So, thinking of relieving his mind of all the chaos that surrounded it, he starts walking towards your apartment.

On the other hand you were having an extremely generic night, nothing new had happened in the last few hours so you decided to spend the rest of your time doing a movie night. You were ready to prepare some snacks and lie down in front of the television so as not to get up until the next day. As soon as everything is ready you sit on the couch and almost automatically your doorbell rings, you arch an eyebrow and bring your gaze to the clock... You sure as hell weren't expecting anyone at ten o'clock at night.

Leaving your bowl of snacks on the sofa, you head towards the door, opening it to find a crestfallen Eddie. You were immediately concerned, you had known Eddie for a few years and you knew that lately things weren't great for him - which broke your heart - You cared a lot about him and knew he didn't deserve what life did to him.

"Eddie love, what happened?" You say holding his hand, and pulling him inside the apartment.

"I'm exhausted Y/N" he says, bringing his hands to his face in frustration. "I can't understand how he gets everything he wants! He is literally the most selfish person in the world and nobody seems to notice it."

"What happened?" You say, hugging him.

"Cami, she…" He can't hold it anymore, he starts to cry. "Am I that insignificant? She discarded me like I was nothing"

"Of course not Eddie" You say, wiping the tears from his face. "You deserve so much more, and if these people don't recognize that, they're crazy."

"I can't understand" He looked very exhausted, you knew how much he charged himself for all this and you couldn't stand to see him in that situation.

"Maybe you need a change..." You say, catching the man's attention. "This whole environment, even though dear to you, is not good for you, my love."

"I can't just…" he starts to say, but the urge to cry invades him again. "I can't just leave them"

"I know it's hard, but it doesn't mean it'll be forever." You say calmly, patiently waiting for him to calm down. "You don't have to disappear from their lives, you just have to respect your time. You must understand that you have the right to be upset about all this, you have feelings too…"

He remains silent, so you decide to continue.

"I see that it hurts you so much, and yet you keep trying to give it all a chance." You approach him, holding his hands. "I understand your love for them and that it can be really hard to let go of something so important, but it's costing you your happiness."

"I won't make it without them" He looks at you with puffy eyes, being honest with everything he kept to himself. "I'm nothing without them, I feel like everything I ever thought I was good at was a grand illusion."

He closes his eyes, letting a few more tears fall.

"I thought when she gave me that chance that night, for once things were going to work out."

Roundtree watches you intently, as if he wants to believe your words more than anything else. Seeing him in that situation broke your heart, even more so when you knew you could love him the way she couldn't. Eddie had become an extremely special person to you throughout your friendship, you have never stopped talking since he arrived in LA and from the beginning you knew what a great talent that man had, and how music was his passion.

When he called you telling you that Billy had changed every moment of him on the album you couldn't believe it, you couldn't understand how someone could be so selfish. You called him to your apartment so he could stay away from Billy during his time off until the tour started, and that's what he did.

Eddie and you spent that time sharing your apartment, most days you watched movies, danced to the records you had, cooked whatever junk food you wanted, and some days you even invited Warren to spend time with you. That time brought you much closer together, and it also contributed to increasing the passion you felt for him.

Talking about talent for you was like talking about him, it was impossible to imagine someone more talented and passionate than Eddie Roundtree, you always knew how dedicated he is to his work, and the sparkle in his eyes when he talked about it was priceless. And that's exactly how you wanted to see him, you wanted him to link his work, his music with that passion and joy that he conveyed. But over time, all those frustrations made that sparkle in his eyes disappear, he didn't talk with joy about it, he wasn't proud of himself anymore.

You knew about his love for Camila, and you also knew about the affair they had that day. You knew very well that she was very special to him, after all, they basically grew up together and he nurtured that love for her for years. He still hadn't told you what she said to make him like this, but you were sure she had broken his heart. It was really hard for him to open up to someone like he did to you, he hated looking vulnerable anyway, so you were kind of speechless when he started crying before he even spoke.

"You know I consider you the most talented person on earth, right?" You smile, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. "I don't know what she told you, but you need to know that you are so much more than a replacement…"

"I wanted so much to believe in you" Frustrated he replies, letting out a sigh. "I love her, Y/N"

"I know my love" Your heart clenched as you saw his eyes fill with tears once more. "But do you understand that love doesn't have to hurt like that?"

He looks at you, silently waiting for you to continue.

"Eddie, love has to be something that makes you feel fulfilled, happy, that doesn't cause you any frustration or anguish." Your hands hold his lovingly, and your eyes go down to your intertwined fingers. "You know you can count on me, right?"

"I don't know what I would be without you" He says letting out a sigh, letting go of your hands he lays on your lap. "I'm so broken, why would you want to deal with me?"

"I'm always here to help you to pick up your pieces" You reply, ruffling his hair. "You can always come home, my home is yours my love."

"Home is wherever you are" He mutters, closing his weary eyes from crying. "Thanks for so much, really"

"Don't mention it" You whisper, noticing his body relaxes under your touch.

Eddie Roundtree: I don't have words to describe how important she is to me, but I can assure you that after that day she completely changed the meaning of love for me.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

#daisy jones and the six #djats #djats x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie roundtree #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie loving #josh whitehouse #sebastian chacon #djatsedit #daisy jones and the six fanfic #daisy jones #the six #the dunne brothers

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sorryimananti-romantic · 4 months

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i've been reading fanfictions and online novels for so many years (too many really) and for a very long time there was one common event or phenomena within the writing community that i never experienced myself: finding that ONE fictional novel that you will never let go, whose plot just will not leave your mind and you come back to reading it over and over again like you're a broken record.

most of my time in the recent weeks was spent commuting across country and when's a better time than to read fiction all by my lone self? trains, busses and bustling fading into the background and acting as a form of white noise. (blame it on growing up with ghibli)

tldr; i've picked up Horizon again lol

and i wanted to once again come here and extend all and every compliment towards you for writing (the entire series tbh!). it doesn't get old and it has once again sent me down an endless spiral of emotions even when i already know how it ends. how my adoration for the characters continue to grow is a mystery even to myself. and it's amazing how with every read-through, i find more and more clues and details to complete the bigger puzzle that i hadn't even picked up on during my first reads.

gotten so bad that i'll see the word Horizon, listen to the actual song Horizon and i can not stop myself from thinking about horizon!san and gaeul (also neve my baby).. google, can you be downbad for a fanfiction? asking for a friend.

getting lost in thoughts again and distracted by this universe, i have yet to bring up why i'm even writing this essay lol

after collecting my thoughts and my notes (and rambling a friend's ear off about the series and the universe and more..) i believe i have found that ONE fictional novel that i will never forget about and know will always end up coming back to - which is Horizon ♡

there's not much more to say other than just that, if i'm quite honest (otherwise we'd be here all night and i'm not willing to test if asks have a character limit lol)

but i do know that unless readers verbalize their thoughts and feelings for a piece of writing, the writer will never know the impact they might have had on someone else with something they wrote by themselves without expectations to reach such great distances and touch so many hearts (definitely mine). writers might be masterminds but even they can't read minds through a screen. (i hope..)

also as i am writing this, what a humorous coincidence that it's been exactly one year since the release of Horizon :') <33 happy one year ♡

all the hugs and kisses to you yumii 🩷 ○ chron

chron- 😭 first and foremost let me apologise bc i went to check if horizon really turned one year old today and foound your lovely feedback reblog that i. missed.???????? HOW DID I MISS THAT?? but also nice time discovering it bc after reading this ask and feeling some sort of way (emotional asf is what it is) i went on to read the reblog and i-

look, i'm really not an emotional person but i had to physically stop take a breather drink some water I DON'T CRY MUCH BUT THIS. THIS MAKES ME CRY 😭😭

and secondly, i love you so much 😭😭 your presence here and feedback and the encouragement and everything literally means so much to me you have no idea how good i'm feeling right now 😭 (be replying to the reblog on horizon soon btw i have no idea how i missed that gem)

i'm honestly beyond honoured. i don't know if you know but take me home/horizon lore is so so precious to me! it's literally my baby and i'm ngl i live in that lore. you'll catch me randomly thinking about it and coming with potential ideas for the future if i write another installment (honestly want to for every member one day) but horizon being that ficitonal novel for you? i'm clutching my heart rn 😭❤️

we're both ghibli kids hehe it's def been a solid influence on my imagination! ghibli movies were literally the first ones that i watched i'm glad my dad got me cds of them without having any idea what they were LMAO but the influence is there and i'm happy to find another ghibli enthusiast <3

and omgg finding more details on the sec read? ahaha that's lovely to hear :') i love how the fic horizon is now an additional with the song horizon for you hehe and neve, ugh. everyone's baby daddy neve :')

i'm honestly so thankful that you took the time to send this message, that you feel this way (and the reblog lord it's making me cry i'll reply to it soon too bc wow.) take me home was my first fic and i have no idea how i came up with the story (covid times, vacation, and first time worldbuilding was a dangerous combo lmao) and i honestly had zero plans for another installment in the lore but so many take me home san enthusiasts kept me engaged even long after take me home ended. thus horizon was born- i needed to do san justice after hinting that he and yena might have been sth.

horizon is my baby. i think horizon is one of my favs because i was ngl a big brain with how i extracted points from take me home to create the premise for horizon. like it's the most unplanned planned thing i've ever written? if that makes sense. i had a hard time coming up with twists but everytime i connected some event of horizon back to take me home i would literally evil smirk LMAO and i'm so glad you enjoyed it so much! it makes me feel proud that i wrote it 😭❤️

as you can tell i can talk about the lore forever. it was so fun to plan and write it and to find someone who appreciates it so much? literally in shambles rn. and to find this message and that reblog on the one year anniversary? god, i wish i could tell you how i'm feeling rn 😭❤️

again, thank you from the bottom of my heart! if i ever find the time to write another installment in that lore (idk if many will read it tho lmao but i could literally write another series for you) i think i'll def come to you for brainstorming :') i know the next one is going to be woo x darkling or yunho x some ice-user faerie (with more neve features bc they literally can't do this without him anymore LOL) and ahh i should stop writing now you're literally making me want to drop everything and start writing this ahaha

#literally crying screaming throwing up #i'll be thinking about this for the next few days yes #chron #fic: horizon #yumi.asks

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dat2ndaccount97 · 1 year

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Obsessed Barbie Doll Fan/Collector talks about their doll free childhood:

With the Barbie Movie now out, me spending the past week exclusively playing with my dolls + engaging with doll related social media, and seeing people talk about their childhood Barbies/other dolls and sharing stories, has me thinking about my doll free childhood.

For those who may not know, despite how OBSESSED I am with dolls and barbie in particular. I didn't grow up with dolls or play with dolls as a kid, because of the ol' "boys can't play with dolls" gender roles BS, and also because I didn't realize I was into dolls for a long time. And both of those things kinda played into each other.

My earliest Doll related memory (that I have shared many times already) is when I was 3-5 Years old (in the early 00s), My mother took me to the KB Toys Outlet by our house which she regularly did. for whatever reason I didn't want another Batman action figure I wanted a Barbie. She was a Brunette Princess Barbie in a purple-ish dress IIRC. My mom said no, I threw I fit, My mom tried to calm me down and entice me with boy toys, I continued fitting, she caved and got her for me. Soon as we got home Doll was taken from me, I was not allowed to have her. This Memory stuck with me for years to come.

I have another memory of having a doll of Bubbles from The Powerpuff Girls (with molded on hair), and I have a vague memory of hearing the adults discuss if it was ok for me to have her. After that it's many close calls/short encounters with barbies and other dolls, where I was interested but couldn't really articulate why nor say I was interested because I was a boy, and dolls are for girls.

But I do remember distinctly playing with my girl cousin's fisher price (?) doll house at my aunts house, and a vague (possibly fake?) memory of me being at said aunt's place for the weekend while my cousins were away and my aunt saying i could play with their toys, which I didn't.

Between all of that and when I started secretly playing with my moms old dolls in middle school it was just seeing Doll Commercials on TV, and eventually discovering some photo site called Flickr and looking at doll pictures on there. But looking back on all of this and other vague memories and who I was as a kid, I'm now fairly sure I would've loved to play with Barbies and/or similar fashion dolls if I was allowed.

But because of those darn gender roles, I never really got chance/choice, to be able to even consider the possibility of me, a boy, being able to play with toys "For girls" without getting weird looks or being asked why (or possibly getting scolded or maybe even snapped or yelled at). It was something I kinda kept to myself until My parents found out I was playing with my mom's broken and ratty old barbie dolls in secret. Which they were ok with... for about a month and they said to put them away. Granted at 13/14 I couldn't really articulate into words why I liked dolls so much so they probably got the wrong idea.

And Because of the way my parents acted every time they found out about my dolls I kept it to myself for many years even as I got active on social media in the mid 2010s. But as I slowly came out about it, I realized it was really just my weird boomer parents who hated it. Literally everyone else i've told in my life that I collect barbies has been super cool/chill about it, and/or think it's really cool actually.

I'm also glad to see people are more and more accepting to the idea of boys playing with dolls, and you even see boys playing with barbies in some commercials and catalogue photos and etc. And maybe, just maybe, there's some kid out there like me with a bin of Batman action figures who suddenly wants a barbie from the toy store but unlike me actually gets to keep her and play with her and cherish her because his parents are cool.

#doll rambles #childhood doll stories #my doll free childhood #Barbie #Barbie talk #my childhood #let boys play with dolls

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lancerious · 2 months

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now I ask YOU questions! >:3

40, 46, 29, 23, and 31

YUS more questions >:D

Q: Favorite memory

A: Um. Uh. Ok I have a lot of "favorite" memories which nullifies the meaning of the word lol, BUT considering how a huge part of my online presence is me obsessing over Lancer, I'll mention a memory that relates to him :>

The memory is...simply my first playthrough of Deltarune Chapter 1! I knew a decent amnt of the game at that point, including the general plot lol, but I wanted to see what the game was truly like. I know I played it in either my junior or senior year of highschool, can't remember which one it was. I also believe it was on a school break, whether it was summer break or a smaller one

ANYWAY, I played the game in the dead of night, everyone else at home was asleep. I had to play quietly as to not wake up anyone lol, and...oh my GOD, I fell in LOVE with the game even MORE after that, its characters included! Actually PLAYING Chapter 1 made me love nearly ALL characters SO MUCH more, ESPECIALLY Lancer. I kid you not, I remember laughing at every single line Lancer had, he was just so therapeutic for me. I have such a vivid recollection of my first playthrough, and there's TONS more I would say but then this post would be a goddamn novel & I'm still only on the first question lol

But yeah, I still adore this memory, and I always come back to Deltarune Chapter 1 if I ever feel down, because man, it works WONDERS <3

Q: What my last text message says

A: It's a link to a page for tickets to watch Coraline in theaters this August. If links don't count, my last text message is...literally just "Ok", that is actually it lol

Q: Favorite film(s)

A: YESYESYES I was hoping for this one!! I have two fav films, one animation & one live-action

My fav animated film is...Coraline, who would've guessed! I do prefer the book but the film is GORGEOUS, and it's in stopmotion which I also love! Coraline as a whole is such a wonderful story & has a very important lesson in it too, hidden behind all the pure insanity the movie has. It's just so great <3

My fav live-action film is Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children! It's based on the books of the same name, and while I DO have the books, I haven't gotten around to reading them just yet. Therefore, I don't know how accurate the film is, but I LOVE IT. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. The movie NEEDS more attention it is hands-DOWN my favorite fantasy movie! It's not perfect, nothing truly is, but I absolutely ADORE it ^-^

Q: Fear(s)

A: I have a fair amnt of these! I'll list a bunch here

Any sudden sounds, ESPECIALLY if they're loud. A couple notable examples are the fear of balloons popping, alongside fireworks! I LOVE both of them, ESPECIALLY fireworks they are SO beautiful, but I'm always worried of the inevitable loud sound that will follow. For balloons I'm much more wary bcs I don't know WHEN the balloon will pop, whereas for fireworks it's mostly a concern of how LOUD each firework will be

Broken glass! The reasoning for this fear is that I cut the big toe on my left foot when I was a young kid from a broken glass shard from a shattered lightbulb. Ever since then I've been SUPER nervous around SHATTERED glass. I'm fine if the glass is intact, but once it's shattered I stay FAR away from it

Being forgotten is a big worry of mine. I think a decent amnt of people can relate to this. I've had past experiences where this occurred, so I'm extra sensitive to this, even if I don't show my worry outwardly

This somewhat goes with number 3: being rejected. I do NOT mean this in a romantic way, this is purely platonic. I have had SO many instances where I was rejected in some way & I don't have a lot of tolerance for it anymore

Overloading is another one. This primarily focuses on me bombarding people with the things I'm interested in, which has resulted in a few people rejecting me, see fear #4. This causes me to intentionally hold back EVERYWHERE, even in places where going on positive rants is encouraged

Finally, to end this list on another relatively "goofy" fear, there's bees, wasps, hornets, anything that stings! People have different reasons for being afraid of these insects, but mine is simply the fact that I have NEVER been stung, not once. I don't know if I'm allergic or not; I'm mostly afraid of the pain it could cause me as I have a VERY low pain tolerance. I literally panic every time a stinging insect comes into my field of view

Q: 3 random facts

All right, time to bring out the randomness in me >:D

When I was VERY young, probably toddler age at most, my head got whacked by a tree/branch, it was definitely some part of a tree at least lol. I got a tiny bump on my head as a result, it's still present to this day :P

I DESPISE melted cheese. It's obscene. Get it out of my sight. IhateitIhateitIhateitIhateitIhateit

My favorite candy bar is Kit-Kat! Funny enough, that's actually my nickname to some people bcs of how much I love them

Bonus fact bcs I felt like it, I've written stuff, Ik some people know this already lol but still. I have abt 10 rotating ideas constantly in my mind that I've never put to paper but I hope to do so someday <3

TY FOR THE ASK <3

#god this was too long #me & my constant need to write insanely long replies #but yea tyyyy <333 #ask #mutualio #random nonsense #ask game

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possumcollege · 2 years

Text

Y'all, I feel like all the love for Mikey and Nicky really glosses over the part where Nick takes Mikey to his girlfriend's place, has sex with her on the floor against her wishes while Mikey waits awkwardly in the kitchen like 10ft away, then offers her to Mikey like she's a drag off his cigarette and when she rejects him, Mikey fucking strikes her. Fucking nuts if that ain't a dark turn.

The earlier scene where Mikey blows up over the cream at the diner felt like an act of desperation to care for his friend. It's aggressive and dramatic, but the scene with Nick's girlfriend is disturbing. Mikey is led into a scene that none of us can unsee and he knows it. The scene feels like Nick saying "I need you to want what I have for once, and then feel bad for wanting it." It shows us how irreparably broken and toxic this relationship is.

From then on, the movie is so much less, "find ya a buddy who'll fight you like a puppy for your own good" and more about how this mode of fraternal loyalty has brought them into this escalating doom spiral where Nick, jealous of his best friend, sets him up to be shamed, tested and put in very real danger while still depending on him for his literal survival. Mikey is pulled deeper and deeper into Nick's narcissistic self-destruction and it's almost certainly been the arc of their entire relationship.

Neither of these characters are "good" people, but we see the way Nick gets into Mikey's head. Mikey starts to become more hostile with his wife after Nick's jabs leave him feeling like she doesn't see him as clearly as Nick does and that was done on purpose. Nick needs to be the most important person in every interaction. He needs attention, power, validation, comfort, and protection, and he needs to constantly test the limits and devotion of the people around him.

In the end, Mikey is pushed into the understanding that the only way to retain his own identity in the face of Nick's increasingly unstable behavior is to be rid of him. In that moment of breaking free, we see Nick play every emotional card, love, pity, rage, resentment, in an attempt to hold on to what he has even if it threatens to pull everyone he loves down with him.

I've seen the film described as an exploration of friendship and betrayal or self-preservation vs loyalty, but no amount of love, support or sacrifice will change or help Nick. Nick has many opportunities to escape, but he needs the people in his life to prove to himself that he is real. He clings to Mikey like a security blanket. He degrades and humiliates his girlfriend who for whatever reason hasn't turned him in. He can't stop calling his wife just to torment and emotionally blackmail her. He keeps returning to places he knows aren't safe to solicit comfort and validation.

Mikey's commitment to his friend consumes and compromises him. There is real love between them but Nick cannot conceptualize other people existing independently of him. Mikey is willing to put himself at risk to give his friend the slightest chance of escape and Nick repays that by playing shit-magnet on Mikey's actual front porch.

Nick's last words may as well be, "I can't live with myself, so watch me die and know it's your fault." Nick sucks.

Before I actually watched this movie, I kept getting the impression that people saw something sweet and *maybe* a little queer in the relationship between Mikey and Nick. Now, honestly the queer angle is neither here nor there for me on top of what feels like romanticizing a toxic and abusive relationship through omission. The memes and gif-sets can't convey Nick treading on Mikey's Jewish values or undermining his other relationships.

I see the appeal from arms length. Nick is impulsive and intense. Mikey is fiercely loyal and sweet. They have a series of little adventures and from a distance, it's a damn near love story but any closer, it's clear this is a tragedy. The only way for Mikey to live his own life is to let go and let his best friend burn out alone.

(edited 12/1/22, after it was noted that it sounded like I was calling the potentially queer angle toxic. Not the case. Maybe if they'd just made out when they were younger this might have gone differently)

#mikey and nicky #peter falk #john cassavetes #narcissism

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theomnicode · 2 years

Note

Hi! Your works and meta blows me away everytime, i'll always read, you're amazing✨

And I've been wanting to ask, what are your thoughts on Saitama literally being a romantic? (I read this one on Power4Impact's blog, very awesome lol)

Also, I feel like both of them, Genos and Saitama, have the need of touch? Touch-starved would be the word. I'll be so happy the day they finally get to have so lovely contact with another person, without this being harmful, just pure love. Even better if is between them <3

Thank you for the kind words, I try my best to make my meta thoughts compelling to read. :D

About Saitama being a romantic...there's a fair bit of references to this, one of them being found in the audiobooks where he ponders about his relationships with people being broken and he seems jealous even about other people having having happy things like romances and social interactions in their daily lives and when he became a hero, something broke in him. He ponders if he should have this issue more in mind and he sounds so far away when Genos mentions fighting for things that he must protect. Like he has forgotten the very reason why he became a hero.

Such as protecting family, friends and the heroine in the movie they watched.

Saitama: Well... It's a movie. In any case, precisely because he had someone to protect the protagonist didn't give up and tried harder until the end, right? That's where the excitement is after all. Genos: I see... but, if he was in real trouble the enemy could have seen that objecti- Saitama: That's the point of the story! It happens in real life too right?

Genos: I see... I'm writing it down! This means... Sensei had this kind of incident in the past, right? Saitama: Eh? Genos: Fighting for something that you must protect. Saitama: ahhh.... um. Genos: What is the matter? Saitama: Ah? Ah, nothing. Bells ring nearby Genos: Ah! Sensei! Fukin Supermarket is having a time sale! I'm going to check if they have anything we need, I will be back shortly so please wait here! Saitama: Ah? Ok... Saitama: Now that I think about it... I have the sensation I never had that happening. Could say I never paid it any mind either. It's not like I don't especially like it, not a complex either. However, is it really ok? No... can't be ok. Can't help but think it's something I lost In the daily battles towards becoming a hero. Am I supposed to have this issue more in mind? Come to think of it, I didn't really have time to unpack it... if it was a normal guy then...

Saitama: Ummmm... What is this feeling? Am I envious of that guy for living his youth? Mn nah I don't think that's it but, I don't know. It's just that I have the feeling my relationships with people are broken...”

Saitama: That’s not the point... I have the feeling that things like a heart to heart interaction, sharing an umbrella, warmth, are all things broken away in my life. Other people can have things like big events and circumstances happening, romances and such bringing happiness in their daily lives. I have the feeling something broke and that sweet-like fluffy, nice stuff just fell right off from me. That's what I meant.

Saitama: Genos, look, have you ever seen a hero anime without a love interest in it? Genos: I don't remember watching a lot of anime in the past.. Why do you ask? Saitama: Well, we're heroes, right? We're working and living as such. And yet, why are we indifferent towards things like love interests or girlfriends? In some way it seems obvious and logical, but is it really ok? Are you ok with reality being so much harder than fiction?

Saitama is absolutely a hopeless romantic at heart, but when he trained to become a hero, he became apathetic and started to lose his humanity. It is something he still desires though.

But as Genos surmises, such actions can be used by the enemy when they see this is the objective of the protagonist.

Weakness of the heart because he craves for that social interconnectivity. Something that was already used against Garou.

And every action by Saitama on the moon when he protected Genos' core was witnessed by OPM God.

Don't be surprised if this will be used against Saitama.

Anyways, second instance of Saitama showing interest in romance is his decently sized manga collection.

Saitama has a bunch of manga on his shelf and we cannot obviously decipher what they may contain from the covers alone. I can infer that some covers look kind of pretty though and pastel colours. Girly covers on the right side of the shelf basically, with only seemingly ladies in the spine art. But nothing conclusive really.

Except we know one manga that Genos picks up in OVA 3 season 2 when he has amnesia and then attempts to woo Fubuki.

This is the kind of stuff Saitama reads on his free time and when he's bored lol.

Shoujo romance manga. xd

Also manga about farting too. That- that as well.

I blame King.

(And King possibly offering romantic advice because he has been playing dating sims too much if Saitama was to ever ask...yaah idk about that one)

However...we may run into an issue with Saitama and romance.

The back cover of the manga and the underlying text.

"I forgot the ease that I tried to remember"

And the thought bubble spelling "Adjacent Fear 5".

It may be reference to Marianne Morris art Fear Adjacent.

This abstract landscape was inspired by a trek over the Coaticoke Gorge. 50m above the riverbead, the longest suspension bridge in Canada was a highlight on a trip through Quebec. It was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

Not unlike romance in general. It can be both exhilarating and terrifying prospect at the same time.

Another reference is in the manga page itself, Bad boys Saga, can refer to multiple things. Such as the archetype of bad boy.

The stereotypical "bad boy" was described by Kristina Grish in her book Addickted as "the irresistible rogue who has the dizzying ability to drive women wild" with a "laissez-faire attitude about life and love". An article in The Independent compared the term "bad boys" with men who had a particular combination of personality traits, sometimes referred to as a "dark triad" of Machiavellian traits, and reported that a study found that such men were likely to have a greater number of sexual affairs.

It is not the kind of interaction Saitama wants for with romance. Not like Suiryu, being playboy. But it may be a reference to underlying fear about romance in general.

It may also be a reference to Bad boys films from 1983 or the Bad boys franchise.

In an attempt to retaliate on Mick's behalf, Horowitz creates a bomb by planting fertilizer in a radio that he places in Paco and Viking's cell. When the charge explodes prematurely and only injures Viking, Horowitz is condemned to solitary confinement, a fate he fears more than any other.

Phobia from solitary confinement is another type of fear that can go hand in hand with fear of falling in love.

And one last reference, fear of romance in itself. Fear of falling in love.

Philophobia (from Greek "φιλέω-φιλώ" (love) and "φοβία" (phobia)) is the fear of falling in love. Not included in the DSM-5. The risk is usually when a person has confronted any emotional turmoil relating to love but also can be a chronic phobia.[citation needed] This affects the quality of life and pushes a person away from commitment. A negative aspect of this fear of being in love or falling in love is that it keeps a person in solitude. It can also evolve out of religious and cultural beliefs that prohibit love.[citation needed] It represents certain guilt and frustration towards the reaction coming from inside.

DSM-5 is Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition. Just like Fear Adjacent is 5th volume.

A phobia is an anxiety disorder defined by a persistent and excessive fear of an object or situation.[1] Phobias typically result in a rapid onset of fear and are usually present for more than six months.

6 months? What a coincidence. I don't believe in coincidences.

The prophecy that Lady Shibabawa mentioned meant that 6 months from then on, Earth would be in danger. A subconscious fear, like the back cover of the book and something he cannot remember.

A subconscious fear that rose back to the surface when he saw Genos' mutilated form lying on the ground after the fight with Sea King. Because he had started to care about his disciple and seeing him like that had far more effect on Saitama than he even realizes.

That or an onset of said fear that can develop into a phobia. Or that it will.

Also paralleling the passionate soul that Boros seer saw 20 years ago in their crystal ball.

So in terms of romance, Saitama may run into issues, that he fears committing to it because he's possibly had a bad experience in the past with any type of love that he has since forgotten and which may have since become a phobia. Notably about losing said love.

More than likely, he fears the solitude that falling in love may cause him if he ever lost the person he loves, like when Genos died on him. Unhealthily coping by trying to attach himself to the last vestige of Genos and his heart.

He may also fear someone pulling the Bad boy act on him and fear people with these traits. Such a person may have been the cause of this underlying fear or perhaps him acting like a bad boy may have been one of the causes of this phobia.

There may also be underlying guilt and frustration.

Often, people can trace their fear or phobia to traumatic childhood experiences. Philophobia may be a protective response. If you don’t allow yourself to develop loving feelings for someone, you lower your risk of heartache and pain.

It would definitely explain why Saitama seems to be showing no romantic inclination towards someone like Genos, who is not shy about telling Saitama that he's amazing person and holds everything about Saitama in high regard. Despite having an actual desire and want for romance, intimacy and heart to heart feelings.

And not showing any commitment, despite apparently caring for Genos to an unhealthy degree when shit hit the fan and he lost him, to the point that these emotions burst out in uncontrollable rage and bust out a hole in space. Just avoiding the issue altogether.

He has forgotten the ease of romance that he tries to remember.

It has probably only gotten worse when Genos died when Garou ripped his core out and killed him, though he does not consciously remember it. The subconscious however, does. The subconscious remembers all the phobias and fears he may have.

All expressed here in a very neat package.

"Ge-Genos!! You scared the crap out outta me! You're actually alive!!"

(It's absolutely hilarious to me that Saitama's hero suit is conveying his feelings here by shredding his crotch zone, since his hero suit responds to his desires and feelings as Phoenixman mentioned they do for costumers and it's essentially showing his libido and going like "bro stop doing this to yourself, get some help. Allow me to assist you. Just DO IT!" Saitama's hero suit is bff.)

When you think about it, he does have a pretty excessive reaction to seeing the core on his hand, because he would not have any rational reason to think that Genos is anything but limbless torso but still alive and intact otherwise. At least as much as he consciously remembers.

He might've gotten scared a bit and sought for the cause to verify if it's true or not because having Genos core on his hand randomly is just weird, but not a reaction like this. That face reminds me of the time when Saitama got out of bed during Hammerhead saga and he looked excessively scared then too.

Every single time Genos gets brought to the brink, the fear from phobia gets more foothold. And so do the reactions from Saitama grow worse.

ONE is very careful to not allow Saitama to see that Genos can actually take care of himself or allow Saitama to protect Genos in situations where Genos gets grievously demolished. Otherwise his fear for Genos safety would lessen considerably. Instead it is much like he's being conditioned into having significant distress whenever Genos ends up destroyed or worse and that there is no way he can actually protect Genos from harm.

Apparently utter disaster romance is also up ONE's writing alley, if the newest trailer for Mob psycho season 3 is to be believed.

Complete catastrophe is looming, it has been prophesied.

(Though prophesies are also a load of hogwash according to Saitama, so it may be Saitama saying it won't happen because there is always a choice)

Though...Genos did pick up the book, so it is very probable that Genos too, has fear of falling in love. Because he fears losing those connections, so as much as he seems to show that he cares a lot, he does not commit completely and tell anybody and keeps other people at arms lenght. At least he has not, so far.

It will be a happy day indeed when these two can actually get some well deserved hugs. Because both have already made their choices to stick by the other. Though it may be a long while yet.

When they face their fears, that is when the rain stops.

#opm #one punch man #asks #opm meta #saitama #genos #saigenos #genosai #opm manga panels #opm anime screencaps #fear #phobia #romance #long

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bxttxms · 11 months

Text

Orchid Oasis

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

words: 1,077

Summary: PJ falls in love very easily. Hazel works at a bouquet shop. They are both losers.

Note: HI! This is my first fic so like if you have any constructive criticism please tell me but I also made this late at night before a 6-hour shift so :D I hope you like it though, I know it's pretty out of character but I love thinking of PJ as a complete wreck around women and someone who falls in love very easily and I mean, look at Hazel. Like I was in love at first sight too.

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

Unknown to most, PJ gets bitches. Even though she's never had her first kiss, a girlfriend, or any girl even slightly flirt with her, she has amazing "rizz," as she likes to say, and it makes Josie cringe every time.

From Josie's perspective, she has seen every one of PJ's attempts to get girls, and every time, it ends with a slur of curses and Josie having to comfort a wailing PJ outside of a Baskin Robbins with Snickers ice cream melting in her hand. So, when PJ grew another quick crush on a new, very obviously straight girl, she knew it was only gonna end in lesbian despair.

"She's just so amazing, Josie; she was all like, "Hey, I think it's your turn to order, so can you, like, move?" and I was like, "You can go first actually," and she was like, "OK?" ugh, you just had to be there."

"I was there; it was an extremely tough watch, actually."

"Yeahhhh" was PJ's only reply; she was already daydreaming about their domestic life together in a cramped Chicago apartment with 2 dogs. In reality, though, they were in PJ's dorm room, where Josie disapprovingly looked over at PJ, who was literally kicking her feet while thinking about the girl she'd probably never see again.

"You know, that new flower shop down the street from the movie place just opened; maybe you can get her a bouquet and express your undying love for her in a poem!" Josie sarcastically exclaimed while flailing her arms like a Disney princess.

Then, an idea struck within PJ.

"Holy shit Josie!" was all she said before suddenly jumping up.

"Wait, no, PJ, I was joking! You can't just leave; we have a class in like 30…minutes.."

Running down the street, PJ dashed to the old DVD place that's probably been open since the Roman times and searched for the previously mentioned flower shop. Once she saw the bright, pastel green exterior with flowers bordering the sign saying, " Orchid Oasis," she knew she found it.

As soon as PJ stepped into this place, however, she realized she was entirely out of her element. PJ didn't know shit about flowers, especially for girls. She'd never even received flowers before, let alone given them to someone. She saw a group of pretty purple potted flowers out of the corner of her eye that reminded her of the girls outfit, so she went up to inspect it.

"Hi! Did you need any help with-"

"JESUS FUCK" PJ shouted, and basically jumped out of her skin and knocked the poor plant over, shattering the pottery that was holding the aforementioned flowers.

She quickly turned around to yell at whatever teleporting asshole jumped behind her to make her piss her pants when she caught sight of the most bottomless blue eyes she's ever seen. They were wide with shock, staring at PJ like she was the one who snuck up on her!

"Dude, you scared the shit out of me! Do you always just sneak up on people like that?!" PJ blurts out before she can actually think about what she's saying. She should probably apologize, but fuck that, this weirdo shouldn't have snuck up on her!

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you; you just looked confused, and I wanted to help if you were looking for something specific or something. I'm really sorry." She starts to ramble as she scrambles to pick the pieces of broken pottery up from the floor. Was this girl from Mars or something?

"What the fuck are you doing? You're gonna cut yourself!" PJ grabs her hands from picking up the broken pieces, which causes her to stop rambling and God. She looked up at PJ with the biggest puppy dog eyes she'd ever seen. She looks extremely panicked, making PJ both confused and even weirder, sad. PJ never feels bad for people, especially people who freak out about minor things, so why does she feel so bad now?

"OK…" PJ briefly looks down at her nametag that says, "Hazel :)." "..Hazel, so do you have a broom or dustpan or something to clean this up before you go all Jeff the Killer on your hands?" Hazel looks up into PJ's eyes so hard; they stay like that until the other girl realizes what she said and looks around.

It takes her a while to respond, but eventually, she replies, "Yeah right, broom, it's um, it's in the back. Let me…go get it."

She stumbles into the back room and emerges a second later, holding a bright yellow broom and a small handheld dustpan. She then bends down to clean up the dirt and clay everywhere. At the same time, PJ stands awkwardly, admiring the girl and taking a moment to examine her.

She looked like someone you'd find working at a place like this, down to her shaggy haircut, multiple bracelets and rings, and oversized green sweater that matched the store's vibes. She looked like someone who just jumped out of Josie's Pinterest page, aka the exact opposite of PJ's type.

And yet, for some reason, she's absolutely enthralled by her. Everything about her is just so endearing; it makes her forget about, whatever she was doing before. Wait, what was she doing before?

After Hazel is done cleaning up PJ's mess, she stands up and looks back at her. They stand like that again, the two staring at each other in awkward bliss, until the dark-haired one finally says with a sincere grin, " So, did you need any help looking for anything today?"

"Do you wanna go get coffee with me after your shift or on your break or whenever you want to, ya know? I'll pay to make up for the whole, yelling at you and knocking that over, then making you clean it up," PJ blurts out before she can even think about it. Smooth.

Hazel's face turns a lighter shade of pink. It's a fantastic sight, her hair slightly ruffled and her face flushed, and PJ can't help but let her mind wander.

"Um, I like tea better, actually." She responds while slightly giggling.

"Yeah, no, me too; I think tea's great actually."

"OK, my break is at 3, so if you wanna wait for a bit, then we can go?" Hazel was full-on beaming at this point; it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

"3 is perfect actually."

#fandom #ruby cruz #writing #ao3 #sapphic #wlw #fanfic #hazel callahan #pj bottoms #bottoms 2023 #meet cute #falling in love easily

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themsource · 2 years

Text

Fransweek '23 - Day 1

Theme: Sweet Gesture Rating: T Pairing: UT Sans/Frisk Word Count: 1,015

Woot! Another year another @fransweek! Cross-posted to Ao3 here. Les' go! XD

Frisk was tired.

Always so tired, utterly exhausted.

Between her job as an ambassador and her new living situation with Sans she was practically dead on her feet before she even rolled out of bed in the morning.

Not to be misleading, she did love living with Sans. It'd taken long negotiations and almost two years of dating to convince the skeleton to move in with her, to leave his brother to live on his own and to trust that Frisk wasn't going anywhere and that the relationship was all or nothing—the long run destined for the wedding aisle eventually. Frisk would never give up what she had now; late night cuddles, movie marathons with hilarious commentary, and the joy of simply being in his presence for as long as she wanted when she pleased.

But Sans was a slob.

What she had once thought was only a long running joke between the brothers turned out to be a very real situation.

Sans had socks, many, scattered everywhere, constantly. Frisk hadn't seen him change his socks once, but he apparently did it often enough that there were literal piles now that lined an imaginary pathway in their room from door to bed.

And the wrappers—countless burger wrappers and chip bags, empty soda bottles and cans, dotted their house across countertops and flooring no different from a garbage dump.

She didn't mind cleaning. Frisk had no issue whatsoever making the house tidy and presentable…when she could.

However, more often than not she was laden with heavy workloads of paperwork and bills to review, propositions and exchanges to approve or deny.

That on top of cleaning just…

Killed her inside.

Sometimes it'd feel as if she was alone and expected to do everything without help. Like everyone only existed to take advantage of her.

Which wasn't fair to think.

Sans worked just as much as she did, in fact he had multiple jobs, occasionally twice or three times a day! How he managed that without going insane bewildered her. She could barely manage a decent night of rest with just one.

So when she woke up that morning and saw what minor cleaning she'd done had been erased overnight, she didn't say anything.

Just stared.

Blankly.

"mornin' babe."

Frisk was so tired she didn't have the energy to acknowledge Sans' greeting.

His smile dipped with concern, the hand holding his mug lowing as he watched her from his spot on the couch. "frisk?"

She simply turned and headed into the kitchen directly to the coffee machine.

As she was mixing in her sugar and taking a sip she felt a hand on her lower back. Looked over into two worriedly creased sockets.

"is something wrong?"

It was a traitorous thought. One she couldn't contain because she was simply too worn out and depleted.

"I wish you'd try."

Sans' sockets widened.

"I know it's not fair. You're probably way more tired than I am at the end of the day, and I shouldn't expect it of you. It's just hard sometimes."

He looked completely lost but she didn't register it.

"I'm tired…Sans…" She gestured around them, at the mess. "It's hard."

'I can't do it all, I feel broken' was what she didn't say.

Sighing, she downed the last of her drink that she knew would do nothing for her because for some reason she was cursed with a caffeine immunity, and leaned over to plant a kiss on the side of his skull as she sat her cup in the sink.

"I'll be late tonight. I have a meeting with the prime minister of France about allowing citizenship for monsters. Love you."

Sans looked ready to say something but stayed mute as Frisk reached for her briefcase, shrugged on her coat, and headed right out the door.

It wasn't till she reached the embassy that Frisk realized she was still in her pajamas.

Thank god for her assistant Marcy and the spare suit she kept for her.

The day went.

Just went.

Frisk saw by the paperwork she was stapling together that she'd succeeded in the conference with the prime minister but wasn't able to recall what exactly the details were. She'd have to read the packet over later if she was able. She must've looked terrible too because Marcy knocked on her door and gave her the same concerned look that Sans had.

"Day's over." She whispered. "Would you like me to give you a ride home?"

The thought was appreciated but Frisk didn't think she'd be able to fit into the Mini Roadster the eight foot slime monster drove. Not without inconveniencing them both by having to part way sink into the monster's body for space.

She didn't want to feel like a burden.

"It's alright. I'll call an uber."

Marcy stared at her, chewing her lip, before reluctantly nodding. "Alright. Goodnight Miss Dreemurr."

…How bad did she look?

Frisk wondered if she'd only won out with the prime minister because the man had felt bad for her.

Fatigue made her eyes droop and turned her light headed. It took a strong amount of concentration to gently slide the papers into her bag and close it.

A blur.

She opened the app, glanced at the passing buildings, tipped the driver, opened her front door dreading and hoping a smell hadn't started to form—

Frisk froze in the kitchen.

Slapped awake, eyes wide, she peered at the sink as if it was about to sprout legs and walk away.

"...Sans?" She drawled.

The counters were clear, whitened, bleached clean. The tiles looked much the same, shattered splinters of ceramic from a broken plate that she'd noticed that morning, vanished.

He shouted back. "hey babe!"

Still registering.

"You did the dishes?" Frisk asked gobsmacked.

"yep!" Sans' call echoed.

Frisk stepped into the living room.

It was spotless.

"You cleaned the house!?"

"yep!"

She wobbled over to the couch and collapsed on his chest.

"I love you."

"love you too babe."

He kissed her forehead as he continued to flip through the television channels.

#undertale #frans #sans/frisk #fransweek #fransweek2023 #fanfiction #ao3 #My writing

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