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p0orbaby · 1 day ago

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It’s Called Free Fall

summary: therapy makes you realise a lot of things

warnings: none

a/n: there’s not actually any alexia in this, but she is mentioned

word count: 2.7k

The therapist’s office feels like it’s been curated for someone far more refined than you—someone who actually takes their therapy seriously, rather than as an ironic lifestyle choice. The walls are a pale, flat grey that veers perilously close to lifeless, and there’s this overwhelming sense of emptiness, like everything here exists for display rather than use. The chairs, two narrow-backed leather things angled just slightly towards each other, appear less like furniture and more like sculptures. You imagine some recent graduate from a New York art school positioned them just so, meticulously arranging each one to make sure it induced the precise mix of discomfort and luxury.

The table between you and Dr. Vargas is another matter entirely—a sleek slab of polished mahogany, thick enough that you could lean your entire weight on it without even a squeak of protest. Its surface is bare except for a single leather-bound notebook, a fountain pen and a ceramic dish, all aligned to a degree that feels almost militaristic. There’s not a single loose thread in the rug, not a fingerprint on the glass of the one window facing out onto a garden view that’s suspiciously verdant for the middle of winter.

Even the fern, perched in the corner like it’s waiting for its close-up, seems too green, too lush. It’s ridiculous, but it’s all part of the aesthetic, this carefully curated minimalism, the kind of cultivated restraint that says, “We don’t need embellishments. We’re here for the truth.” You’re here, supposedly, for honesty and revelation. But to you, it all feels a bit too staged, like a hotel that boasts a “homely charm” but is actually cold and sterile beneath the surface. You suspect Dr. Vargas might even mist the plant herself in some sacred ritual of maintenance, a sort of last-minute grounding exercise to fill the silence between clients.

You settle back in the chair, draping one leg over the other, and make a mental note to mention it next time you’re in some magazine interview. “Austere,” you’d say, “but in a chic way. I once caught my therapist hand-polishing the leaves of a houseplant.” You let yourself savour the image for a moment, glancing at the fern, which seems to return your gaze with silent judgement.

Dr. Vargas has her pen poised in that infuriatingly neutral way, a half-smile that somehow manages to be both welcoming and utterly unreadable. She’s mastered this look; the expression that says, I’m here for you while also suggesting she’s already a step ahead, already written your entire profile out in her head, neatly categorised into sub-headings like “Avoidant Tendencies” and “Control Issues.”

You begin with a sigh, throwing a glance at the ceiling in mock contemplation. “I’ve been thinking about another place. A chalet, maybe. Something in the mountains this time.” You pause, letting the idea sit, feigning like it’s just occurred to you. “Somewhere remote, where people can’t just… get to me”

You’re fully aware that she sees right through it. This isn’t her first rodeo; you’re sure she’s dealt with hundreds like you before, masters of diversion who fill sessions with banalities rather than facing anything real. But Dr. Vargas, in all her maddening professionalism, gives nothing away. She just tilts her head, the soft scratch of her pen against her notebook barely there as she writes something down.

“A place to escape,” she offers back to you in that maddeningly placid tone.

“Yes. Escape,” you echo, knowing full well the word holds no weight here. Escape from what, exactly? You let your leg bounce a little, as if the rhythm might lend some gravity to your words. “And there’s this new project I’m in talks with—A24, actually. They want me to do something… serious. A proper rebrand. Gritty. Artistic.” You drawl out “artistic” with the faintest of smirks, like you’re amused at the thought of it all. A lifetime of playing these games, and you’re practically a pro by now.

Dr. Vargas’s face betrays not a flicker of interest or amusement. She simply nods, that little encouraging tilt of her head again, like she’s waiting for you to get to the real point, the heart of the matter. But you’re not giving in so easily.

“It could be big, you know,” you continue, lifting your chin a fraction. “And I’ve got Alexia, of course.” The name slips out, deliberately nonchalant, though you feel its weight instantly, like it’s left a mark on the air between you.

Dr. Vargas raises her eyebrows, ever so slightly. “Alexia,” she repeats, not quite a question, not quite a statement. Just… acknowledgment, and yet it still feels as if she’s plucked something out of you without you realising. You don’t like it, the way she turns your own words against you.

“Yeah,” you say, shrugging. “She’s… brilliant. On the field, off it. You know, she’s—” You trail off, allowing a smirk to play on your lips. “Not bad to look at, either”

She gives no reaction, doesn’t even break eye contact. You imagine her poker face would rival that of any seasoned card shark. But it’s her silence that presses at you, coaxing out more than you intend to reveal. It’s a trick she’s used before, and yet here you are, willingly falling into it.

“Honestly,” you continue, almost laughing as if sharing some private joke, “you should see her after a match. There’s this… intensity, this rawness. Shirt off, sweat-drenched, eyes still blazing from the game. It’s… invigorating.” You roll the word around like a fine wine, savouring it as you go. “It’s like the universe threw me a bone, just when I was getting bored”

Dr. Vargas finally moves, a slight shift of her head, her mouth curving up in a near-smile. “And yet, you’re here”

Her words drop between you like a carefully placed stone. You scoff, rolling your eyes, but there’s something in her expression—an almost imperceptible softness that somehow feels like an accusation. “Therapy’s a hobby,” you shrug, leaning back, as if the very idea of anything deeper is laughable. “I’m always in therapy, Doc. News flash”

“Yes,” she agrees smoothly, not missing a beat, “but you don’t usually bring her up”

“Come on,” you counter, with a smirk that’s designed to look careless, “I bring her up all the time”

“Not like this”

Her voice is calm, almost gentle, but her gaze sharpens, pinning you in place. You feel a spike of irritation, or maybe it’s something else. You cast a look towards the fern, now faintly silhouetted by the afternoon sun, its shadow long and narrow across the wall, an unasked-for third party in this strange little dance. The absurdity of the whole scene hits you, but before you can fully detach, she’s speaking again.

“You’re talking about her differently. More… openly.” There’s no edge to her tone, no overt judgment, yet it feels like she’s peeled back a layer, glimpsed a part of you you hadn’t meant to reveal.

In the moments that follow, you stub out your cigarette on the pristine ceramic dish Vargas keeps on the table, the one she’s claimed is “not for smoking” but never actually moved after that one session. You’ve taken it as tacit permission, though you know damn well it irritates her—just another way to test the boundaries in a room that prides itself on having none. That’s half the point of these sessions: see how far you can stretch them. How much she’ll let you say, or not say. And you’ve mastered the art of saying absolutely nothing, all while filling the space with empty words.

Dr. Vargas doesn’t speak, doesn’t press, which is almost worse than if she did. There’s just the persistent softness in her eyes, the quiet implication that she understands more than you’d prefer. You remember Alexia’s eyes looking at you like that once, right after you’d tried to make some grand point about the nature of relationships—one of those pseudo-philosophical tangents you like to go on. She’d just looked at you, with a kind of bemused patience that felt a little too genuine, a little too close to knowing you.

You roll your shoulders, shake off the memory. But it clings.

“Alright,” you say, letting the smoke spill out as you form the words. “Maybe I don’t do ‘love’ like everyone else. I’m not here for a candlelit dinner and a mortgage. I’m not,” you add with a quick laugh, “one of those people who turn into some sap over a nice couple’s holiday in Santorini”

Dr. Vargas gives a small nod, an acknowledgement rather than agreement, her expression neutral but open, giving you room to continue.

“But, yes. Fine.” You take another drag, a deliberate pause. “Maybe I… care about her. I care about her. She’s different, alright?”

“Different how?” she asks gently, with an infuriatingly patient tone.

You groan, shifting in your seat. “Come on, don’t make me quantify it. That’s your thing, not mine.” You know you’re stalling, using your usual deflections, but there’s an itch underneath it, a part of you that feels raw just acknowledging that Alexia is, in fact, ‘different.’

You can feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to take the bait you’ve laid out for yourself.

“Fine, you want specifics?” you sigh, feigning annoyance, though you know you’re the one who’s led the conversation here. “She… laughs at my worst jokes. Like, really laughs. Not in a polite way, but genuinely, like she thinks I’m the funniest person alive, even when I’m barely trying. It’s stupid, really, but it gets me”

“And how does that make you feel?” Vargas leans forward, like she’s zeroing in on something significant.

You chuckle, low and dismissive, waving the question off with your cigarette. “How do you think it makes me feel? It’s… fine. Nice. A bit strange, maybe. I’m not used to being seen like that.” You pause, the weight of that admission lingering in the air between you.

She doesn’t react, doesn’t push; she just lets the moment settle, knowing there’s more.

You sigh, smoke curling up around you, as your mind goes back to other little things—the way she has this weird ritual of picking all the green M&Ms out of the bag and tossing them to you, claiming they’re “bad luck.” How she insists on reading the morning news out loud, in that silly, exaggerated announcer voice, just to make you laugh while you pretend to read emails. Or how she makes you tea at exactly the right temperature, handing you the mug with a grin like she’s just given you a priceless gift. These are things that, on the surface, should be forgettable, the kind of mundane moments that fade. But they don’t, do they? Not with her.

Dr. Vargas’s voice interrupts your reverie, soft but insistent. “You’re smiling”

You realise she’s right; you’re smiling without even meaning to, and it’s a small, stupid smile, the kind that feels too open. You try to erase it, but it’s too late. The vulnerability’s already there, a quiet confession written across your face.

You roll your eyes, more at yourself than at her. “Alright, so what? So she’s… alright, she’s fun. She’s got that energy, you know, that lightness. It’s kind of… refreshing”

The words slip out unbidden, and you feel a pang of something resembling regret. Refreshing. A word that implies something else by omission—that most of your life, most people you’ve known, have been exhausting. The irony isn’t lost on you: someone so completely different from your own brand of detached sarcasm, from your carefully cultivated ennui, has managed to slip under the radar and wedge herself into your carefully controlled life.

Dr. Vargas watches, her silence pressing you forward.

“Look, I don’t think about it too much,” you say, trying to inject a casual note into your tone. “I don’t need to psychoanalyse every smile, every inside joke. I’m not here to have my relationship broken down into neat little psych terms”

“Maybe you should think about it,” Vargas says gently. “Maybe that’s why you’re here”

You scoff, but there’s a softness in the sound, a hint of resignation. Because she’s right, isn’t she? You came here because, as much as you don’t want to admit it, this thing with Alexia has started to matter, in a way that’s both terrifying and strangely compelling. You’ve always prided yourself on staying a step removed, on being a spectator in your own life, observing rather than fully engaging. But with her, you’re finding it harder to keep that distance.

“Fine,” you mutter, leaning back, letting your head rest against the chair, staring up at the ceiling as though the answers might be written there. “Maybe she’s… special”

The words feel strange in your mouth, too vulnerable, too open. You don’t say “special” often, especially not in this context. But there it is, a reluctant admission.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m in love with her,” you continue, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “She’s great—don’t get me wrong. She’s amazing in bed. I can’t remember the last time someone made me cum so much. And she’s got this thing about her, you know? Like this fire, this intensity. It’s like when she looks at me, she’s looking right through me. And yeah, I guess that’s… intoxicating. But that’s all it is. Right?”

Dr. Vargas nods, a small, subtle gesture. “Why does that scare you?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you watch the smoke dancing away from your cigarette, dissipating into the air, leaving nothing behind but a faint, lingering scent. You think about what it is you’re so afraid of—because there’s something there, something you can’t quite name, a sense that if you let this thing with Alexia continue, it might change you in ways you’re not ready for.

“Because I don’t do… attachment,” you say finally, the words coming out sharper than intended. “I’ve built a life that doesn’t depend on anyone else. And she’s… she’s a complication”

You can feel Vargas watching you, sensing the weight of what you’re not saying, the unspoken truth that this isn’t just about Alexia, that it’s about something deeper, a fear of vulnerability, of losing control. She doesn’t push, though; she just waits, letting the silence do the work for her.

After a long pause, you take a breath, letting your gaze drift to the fern by the window, its leaves glossy and perfect, so meticulously maintained it almost looks fake. You wonder if it’s ever felt the strain of trying to keep everything together, to present a flawless exterior while something more fragile lurks beneath the surface.

“You know,” you say, almost to yourself, “it’s funny. For the longest time, I thought love was just a distraction, a temporary fix for people who couldn’t handle being alone.” You take another drag from your cigarette, exhaling slowly. “But with her, it’s… it’s different. It’s like she makes everything brighter, sharper, like she’s tuned into some frequency I didn’t know existed”

Dr. Vargas doesn’t respond, just nods, letting you continue.

“And the worst part?” You chuckle, a self-deprecating sound. “The worst part is that she’s getting to me. She’s in my head, even when she’s not there. I find myself thinking about her in the middle of the day, wondering what she’s up to, if she’s thinking about me too”

There’s a fragility in the admission, a crack in the armour you’ve built around yourself. And it terrifies you, this sense of letting someone in, of letting them get close enough to matter.

You stub out your cigarette, watching the last curl of smoke dissipate into the air. It feels like a metaphor for something, though you’re not sure what.

Dr. Vargas gives you a small, knowing smile. “Maybe falling in love isn’t as bad as you think it will be,” she says gently.

You shrug, trying to play it off, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s right. Because for all your detachment, all your carefully cultivated distance, there’s something about Alexia that feels like home, like she’s a part of you you didn’t realise was missing.

“Maybe,” you say, the words soft, barely audible.

Love. The word lingers like an uninvited guest. You try to dismiss it, try to laugh it off, but it keeps creeping back in.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #fcb femeni #fcb femeni x reader #espwnt #espwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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morallygreychaoticneutral · 2 days ago

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Astarion prefers monogamy.

Again, simply my cup of thought tea steeped from my game experience. Its not everyone's drink. No shame, no blame, it's your game. Warning for triggers and spoilers.

*added note due to misunderstandings.

Please notice I said "prefers monogamy" not "is monogamous". He may be up for added partners later on down the line. But definitely not any time before the epilogue in my world.

So, why do I think he prefers monogamy?

Take..

"Iv never had anyone. Not really. Nothing that compares to you."

And mix that with...

"I had nothing for so very long. NOTHING! Not even my own body!"

And add..

"You're you. Nobody is like that."

Plus countless other comments and actions and you get a bowl full of elf who just wants something for himself only for a change.

Centuries of being forced to give up or share everything. His possessions, his person, his own thoughts. Nothing to claim as own that no one else could take or touch at any moment. I'm sure if anything was given to him, he had to fight to keep it.

I think, he would be a bit possessive of anything he could claim as his own.

You are a gift to him. Something rare and special beyond words. I highly doubt he would be willing to share anything you are sharing with him outside of friendship. I could even see him getting fussy about strangers touching you. Moving you away or putting himself physically between you and whomever just touched you without asking.

Hells, even ascended Astarion isn't 100% game to share.

"As much as I wish to sequester you in a deep chamber of my palace and keep you all to myself...there is much to be done."

But, what about Halsin? He says he's fine with it.

Is he? Or is he people pleasing?

If he had said something along the lines of,

"Oh? He wants to share does he? Of course he does. I'm not up for such activities just yet, but you are free to have as much Halsin as you wish. "

I would have gone on that bear hunt, but he doesn't.

He askes you if you are wanting to sleep with Halsin because he has not been able to meet your sexual needs. And I interpreted that as he's vulnerable and worried he's being replaced for not putting out.

Imagine you had asked your lover to not to look to you for sex for reasons you are working out. They agree and you are just relieved as hell about it.

"You were patient. You cared."

Then they come along later down the line and say they are thinking about having sex with a friend. Where would your mind go?

I would bet hard gold he weighed the options in his head. "If I don't let them do this, they might leave me for good. But if I allow it, they wont have an immediate reason to leave. Halsin is the safest option given his experience."

And what's the best way to feel less awful about a situation we cant control? Create a counter situation where we gaslight ourselves into thinking its fine.

Wheeee!

I'm not saying Halsin's offer was bad, it was perfectly fine, it was just poorly placed in the grand scheme of things. If you and Astarion were having fun again before he suggested being an extra, then it would have been easier to believe he was really fine with it.

If they wanted Astarion to be a poly partner they needed to write it better. Shadowheart makes more sense as pro poly than he does.

So for me, Astarion is a one on one elf.

I am not against polyamory. I am not trying to take representation away. I am not shaming anybody for their choices. There is just not enough specific content to support it fully FOR ME. I was actually excited at the idea of having two partners in my fantasy world. Halsin was very clear and very specific about being on board. Astarion was not. And the choice did not feel right. Add a line somewhere for Astarion where he says "Im perfectly fine with sharing, darling. As long as it is discussed and we are in agreement of course." I will happily be on board with it.

#astarion #baulders gate 3 #my headcanons

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sainzfav · 14 hours ago

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❝︎ must be fate ❞︎ … joe burrow pt.1

left you out there standing

summary - after a tragic loss to the ravens, joe finds himself pissed and frustrated. on the contrary, a marylander visiting her parents, getting a break from the busy new york life finds herself crossing paths with a certain quarter back

pairing - joe burrow x fem!reader

song inspo - n/a

warnings! - cursing, alcohol

word count - 1.4K

authors note - this takes place at the november 7th, 2024 game when the bengals played the ravens!

"Fuck"

Joe said under his breath. The Bengals lost 35-34 to the Ravens.

"It's just an away game, man, we'll get them next time, trust," Alex said, coming up behind Joe.

"Alex, we were up for half the fucking game, then because we got lazy, we lost," Joe said, pissed off about the outcome of the game.

It was true; they got lazy. It started off great for the Bengals. The Ravens weren't playing well, and that was enough to get two touchdowns ahead, but the fourth quarter came, and the Bengals got lazy. Even when the Ravens threw a touchdown pass instead of wasting time, leaving the Bengals with about a minute of playtime, the Bengals still managed to lose.

"I don't want to hear any fucking excuses, we lost cause we were dumb and lazy, now get out of my face."

Joe's tone was sharp and angry. There was no "bright side" to this situation. They had the perfect opportunity to win and didn't take it.

*liked by alexconsani, charlidamelio, and 1.6M+ others*

ynofficial gotta love a w

"Wow Y/n, over 1.5 mill already, you're insane"

Y/n whipped her head around.

"Maya, you're fucking joking... 1.5 million?! There's no way"

"How are you surprised? People love a good casual post, anyway, what's the plan for tonight? Are we going out, back to your parent's house? What are we doing?"

"I feel like we have to go out, right? Plus, I wanna show you the bars around Baltimore. We could do a little bar hopping night, how does that sound?"

"Oh my god, perf" Maya exclaims, going back to scrolling on her phone.

Maya and Y/n had been friends since college, and she was truly the one person who treated Y/n like a normal person.

Y/n then connected her phone to the car to play her music through.

"Play some Pitbull, I want to get hype for the bars," Maya says loudly from the backseat. Y/n chuckles and rolls her eyes while finding a good Pitbull song to put on.

"Joe, some of the guys and I are going out, how about you join us. I know it was a shitty game, but going to a bar or somethin' is probably better than sitting alone like a loner," Tee says, reaching to the seat in front of him, putting a hand on Joe's shoulder.

"I'll think about it"

"Well, hurry up, cause once we get back to the hotel, we're all gonna shower and get ready and shit to go out"

"Yeah, alright"

Joe was honestly not as much of a "going out" person as some of his other teammates, but going out to distract from the shit game that just happened did seem appealing.

The sound of the music and conversation filled Y/n's ears the second she and Maya stepped into the bar. The electric atmosphere was impossible to ignore, and a feeling of excitement flooded over Y/n.

"This is the best bar in Baltimore; the vibes are always so good, and their drinks are the best," Y/n tells Maya.

After about 45 minutes, Maya is gone, nowhere to be seen, leaving Y/n on a bar stool as she drinks the last of her vodka cranberry.

Just as Y/n is about to order another drink, she feels a presence next to her. She turns her head and notices a familiar figure.

Joe fucking Burrow?! Y/n thinks to herself. What a coincidence, holy shit.

Joe Burrow was the last person Y/n expected to see at a bar. Actually, she hadn't even thought about it once, but here she was.

He looked pretty pissed, which made sense after tonight's game. Just then, a loud voice came closer to where Y/n was sitting.

"Joe! Whatcha order?"

It was Tee Higgins, whose mood was the complete opposite of Joe's.

"I don't know, hey... Mike? What's your best drink?" Joe asks the bartender, reading the name tag.

"It's basic, but how about an Old Fashioned? Can't go wrong with that"

"Yeah, alright, I'll have that"

Joe then glances over and gives Y/n a weak smile, then looks down to notice her Ray Lewis jersey, chuckling to himself as he looks down at the bar table.

Y/n notices his face and immediately feels awkward.

"Would you like another vodka cranberry miss?" The bartender asks

"Oh, uh, yes, please, that would be great!" Y/n says, getting caught off guard by the bartender, still feeling awkward about sitting next to Joe.

Should have planned to go out and wear something other than a fucking jersey. This is so fucking awkward.

"Good night for you guys, huh?" Joe suddenly says, breaking the awkward silence between the two.

"Yeah, and rough one for you?"

"Yup. So, you from around here? Not to be weird or anything"

Y/n smirks at his comment. For a star, Quarter Back, he's a little awkward and shy.

"Sorta, I mean, I'm from Maryland, Annapolis to be specific, but I live in New York"

"Oh nice, what brought you to New York?"

"Work, I'm an actress, so everything I do is pretty much over there and on occasion, LA"

Never in a million years did I think I would be making small talk with Joe Burrow at a local bar in Baltimore, but here we are.

"Oh sick, how is that life? It seems like it would be crazy"

Y/n chuckles at his response. Being an actress is not a normal job by any means, and it's always so chaotic, but it's Y/n's passion.

"It is, but I wouldn't give it up for the world"

"That's pretty cool"

Just then a loud, drunk Maya comes over.

"Holy shit, Y/n, I met the hottest guy, and he bought me a drink, but then it turns out he has a girlfriend, well, they also just broke up because he bought me a drink, and oh my god, is that Joe Burrow?"

Joe starts laughing a little while Y/n covers her face in embarrassment. Maya was probably the most outgoing person Y/n knew. She was never afraid to speak her every thought, which sometimes led to awkwardness.

"Y/n, pretty name"

Y/n blushes at Joe's compliment, catching her completly off guard.

"Thanks," She says kindly, still partially embarrassed of Maya's story.

"Well, if you don't mind, Joe Burrow, I'm taking my best friend dancing, so kiss your goodbyes, and Y/n lets go"

"Hold on, let me get your number. I've had a shitty day on top of a shitty week, and our conversation, although short, has been nice."

Was Joe Burrow really asking for my number?

"Uh, yeah"

He then gives Y/n his phone for her to type in her number. After she adds her contact, Maya practically pulls her arm off, dragging her away from the bar, leaving her drink and Joe behind.

The next day, Y/n woke up to a line of texts from Maya.

Maya: Heyyyy, Y/n, so I know I said I would get an Uber back to your house, but I'm at a guy's apartment right now.

Maya: You up, Y/n? I assume you're still in bed, actually, but I'm at this guy Derek's apartment, just letting you know.

Maya: Y/n

Maya: Well, love you, I'll be back at your parents sometime today.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Y/n rubs her eyes, trying to wake up more and make sense of Maya.

Just then she get's another text.

Rolling her eyes, expecting Maya, she checks her texts.

Instead, it's an unnamed number.

(513)111-1111: Hey, it's Joe!

Y/n sits up immediately. Sure, she gave him her number, but she didn't expect him to actually text her.

Holy shit

Y/n: Hey! It's Y/n

Joe: Yeah, I remember haha

Joe: Also, how's your friend? I saw you leaving the bar, but she stayed with this guy, who, and I mean no disrespect, looked like a douche...

Y/n: She's fine, at least I'm pretty sure. She texted me this morning that she's at this guy Derek's house, and she seems fine. She said she'll be coming back to my parent's house sometime today. All is good, haha. Thanks for asking, though!

Joe: Okay that's good. Well I gotta do some shit for press, but I'll talk to you later, Y/n.

Y/n: Have fun! ;)

And with that, Y/n turns off her phone, all of a sudden smelling the sweet smell of bacon from downstairs.

#sainzfav #joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow bengals #bengals #nfl #nfl football #football #fanfic #fanfic writer

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just-dreaming-marvel · 1 day ago

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Love That Burns ~ 30

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,855ish

Summary: You and Logan still struggle with your relationship. The two of you make a decision to help ease the struggles.

Warnings: Emotional, Angst, Injuries

Notes: crossing my fingers that you guys will be okay with this chapter...

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

“So, how are you and Logan doing?” Ororo asked one morning at breakfast.

“Fine,” you responded with a shrug. “We have a lot of work to do, but we’re working through it.”

“He does seem a little more on edge around the kids, as do you.”

You sighed. “I’ve actually been thinking… I think Logan and I should go away for a while.”

“Wait, you two want to leave?”

“I haven’t brought it up to Logan yet, and it wouldn’t be forever… we just need a space where we can focus on just the two of us. We’re constantly thrown every which way with classes, missions, and world-ending scenarios. Logan and I need to simply be us for a while and figure out what that means.”

“I… do whatever you have to do.” Ororo stood up. “I’ve got a class to teach.”

“Ororo, please stay and talk.”

But she slipped out of the room. You sighed, hiding your head in your hands. That was the position Logan found you in. He quietly came up behind you and rested your hands on your shoulders. He leaned down and kissed the back of your neck.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered against your neck.

You leaned back into him, looking up at him. “I made Ororo upset.”

“What did you do?” You sighed, looking back down. “Hey.” He sat down beside you. “I thought we were doing better with the talking shit.” He hooked a finger under your chin and guided your face to look at him. “Tell me.”

“I told Ororo about something I was going to talk to you about.”

“And that was…?”

“About leaving.”

“Leaving?”

“I was thinking that we need some time to ourselves. To figure things out and just be us.”

“But this is your home. Would you really be okay leaving it?”

“Logan, you’re my home. And you were long before this was.”

Logan studied your gaze and could see that you were telling the truth, but he worried that after a while, he wouldn’t be enough. You at least had people here, other mutants, to lean on when the two of you were struggling. If it’s just you and him? Then you’d have no one. Logan was okay with that for himself but not for you.

“I thought that we’ve been doing well here,” Logan said, trying to see if he could get you to change your mind.

His words took you back. “You want to stay? You’re constantly trying to run.”

“I just want you to really think about it, sweetheart. I don’t want you to leave and then regret it.”

“You think that I’d regret being with you?”

“That’s not what I said—“

You pulled away, standing up. “But it’s what you meant, right?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” He stood up as well, growing angry.

“Do you not want this long-term, Logan? Am I just your person until a new, better one comes along?”

“Hey! That’s not fair!”

“Morning! Oh—“ Bobby stopped in the doorway. “I can see that this is not a good time, so I—“

“No, Bobby, we’re done here,” you told him, rushing off.

“Y/N!” Logan yelled after you, hurrying to follow you. He followed you into the gardens. “Now, who’s running?!”

“Oh, please,” you spun around. “You’ve wanted to run since the moment you got here!”

“Yes, but I stayed for you!”

“Oh, I feel so honored.”

“You know what, maybe I should go. Since it’s clear that I’m unable to hit the high expectations you have set for me.”

“You are the reason for those high expectations.”

“Ugh! I’m not that person anymore! And I’m sick and tired of feeling like shit all the time about that!”

Logan’s hand flew out as he was talking, his claws accidentally unsheathing. Before either of you knew it, the claws were cutting against your cheek. You gasped, stumbling back as your hand came up to hold your cheek.

“Oh my God,” he sputtered. He hid his claws before reaching for you. “Sweetheart—“ You stepped back, breaking both of your hearts. Logan’s fingers were tingling. If you didn’t let him try to fix this—if you didn’t let him touch you, Logan would never trust himself to touch someone again. “Please let me—“

“No,” you shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks. “Just… leave me alone.”

You rushed off back into the mansion. You knew that Logan didn’t mean to hurt you, but you needed time and space.

Logan was frozen in his spot. The high emotions had gotten the best of both of you, but especially his claws. He had hurt you, and he was fully conscious for it. This was different than him having a nightmare. This was much worse.

~~~

You had sat in front of the mirror, watching the three cuts along your cheek heal into scars. Tears streamed down your face the entire time while you thought of Logan. Both of you were in the wrong here, and this was a complete accident. You were thinking about what to say to Logan when you started to hear drawers slamming in Logan’s room. Rushing out of your room, you looked into his room to see him stuffing his clothes into a bag.

“What are you doing?” You whispered.

Logan spun to face you. Slowly, his hand reached out to brush against the scars on your cheek, but he didn’t let his hand actually make contact.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” his voice was completely broken, tears lining his eyes. “I never wanted to be the one to hurt you… yet I keep doing it.” He shook his head and got back to packing. “I have to go.”

“What?”

“I can’t keep hurting you. I can’t be the person you need… The person I was before…”

“And this will make it better? I’ve messed up in this relationship, too. This is not just on you. I’m sorry for making it seem like I’m forcing you to be that person again. I know that you’ve changed, so I have, and that’s okay. I still love you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Stop that.” You slipped in between him and the dresser. He kept his head down, not willing to make eye contact. “Fine. Tell me you don't love me, and I’ll let you walk away. But you have to look me in the eye and be honest with me.”

You nibbled your bottom lip as you waited for Logan to make the next move. You could tell that there was a war waging in his mind. His eyes suddenly snapped to yours.

“I… I can’t do that,” he murmured. “I love you.”

You quickly pulled him by his shirt to kiss him. He dropped his bag and slid his hands to the small of your back.

“If you really want to leave,” you whispered against his lips, “then you have to take me with you.”

“Okay,” he replied.

~~~

“It’s not forever,” you said as you hugged Ororo. “We’ll stay in contact and visit. Logan and I just need to figure things out.”

“I’ll miss you,” Ororo responded, pulling back. “I’ll miss the both of you.”

“You ready?” Logan asked, coming up from the truck he had just packed.

He had already said goodbye to Marie and Bobby before packing the truck, knowing that you would need some time with Ororo.

“I think so,” you responded. “See you later, Ororo.”

“See you,” she replied.

You took Logan’s hand, and he led you to the truck. He opened the door and helped you in before going around to the driver’s seat. You turned back and watched as the mansion grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Logan placed a hand on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze.

“Are you okay?” He asked, clearly concerned. “We can turn back around.”

You laced your fingers through his and scooted closer to Logan, very thankful for the bench seat. “I’m okay,” you told him. You kissed his shoulder. “Where are we headed?”

“I have a place in mind.”

“Care to tell?”

“Not yet. Why don’t you get some rest?”

“You sure?”

He leaned over and kissed your head. “I’m sure.”

You hummed in content as you rested your head on his shoulder and let yourself relax. Logan’s lifted up in a barely-there smile as you tried your best to cuddle into him.

~~~

You didn’t bother to ask Logan where the two of you were headed again. You kept yourself occupied with books and naps when you weren’t talking to Logan. It was already proving to be worth it, as the farther the two of you drove from the mansion, the less tension there was. Logan insisted on driving the whole way, and so far you’ve had to beg him to stop to sleep in motels for the three nights you’ve been on the road so far.

It didn’t shock you when the two of you crossed over into Canada. You figured that Logan would always feel a call back there. The shock factor was later as the two of you drove up an old, familiar road in the Canadian Rockies.

“Logan, where—“

“Just patience, okay?” He cut you off. “I’ll explain soon.”

You simply nodded, focusing on the trees you were passing out the window. Your heart started pounding the closer you got to the top. Before you knew it, the small house appeared and Logan was pulling up to it. It looked just how you remembered it. You were too busy staring that you didn’t realize Logan had gotten out of the truck and walked around to your side. He opened the door and took your hand.

“Come on,” he urged, tugging you out of the truck. “Let’s go inside.”

“Inside?” You repeated. “It’s probably a disaster. We—“ Your eyes widened as Logan pulled you inside. The place was clean, updated, and furnished. “What? How?”

“Charles. We had a conversation about when Jean died, and I got part of my memories back. He knew that we would need a place to start over and found where we used to live. Before I could stop it, he had people here fixing it up.”

You let go of his hand and began slowly walking around the house. Your hands gently trailed against the walls and updated pieces of furniture.

“You and Charles…” you breathed out. “You did all this?”

“Is it okay?” Logan was clearly nervous. “We can go somewhere else. I just know that this was the—“ You shut him up with a kiss.

“This is perfect. Thank you. But know that I don't expect you to be the same person as before. Time has changed both of us… are you okay with being here?”

“Yes. I even already got a job as a lumberjack.”

“Oh, got the old job back?”

Logan chuckled. “Somethin’ like that. I start in a week.”

“So I have a week of you all to myself?”

“A whole week.” He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Can we try out the new bed?”

A devious smirk formed over Logan’s lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”

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kupidachillea · 2 days ago

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Could we have more Olympians x Reader? Maybe some slight nsfw and perhaps some time with Apollo?

Olympians x You (Hcs or imagines )

Author note: I usually do SFW but that doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally do NSFW if it’s light or not full on smut. I don’t think I’m brave enough for that and if I did I’d make a separate blog for it😭🙏 but I hope you enjoy

TW (trigger warning):This may have a few Yandere themes in it. And while the Olympians themselves aren’t really yanderes- they do share similar tendencies considering their myths. Please note that this isn’t completely accurate to their mythology- but it’s just a bit of fun so please take no offence and be nice in the comments.

CW (content warning)⚠️: readers either18+ (to read this I mean). This work contains NSFW themes, mentions of nudity, molesting and sexual harassment and assault, non-con, dubcon, toxic behaviour. General (hinted) Yandere behaviour, feeding of bodily fluids (blood[?])Reader’s discretion is advised.

⚠️ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE ⚠️

🏺- You had been growing use to it..if that was the right term. Perhaps not ‘use to’ it but more along the lines of growing more accustomed to it. Being on Olympus wasn’t exactly all fun and games.

🪡- But of course you weren’t allowed to complain about it. You certainly weren’t allowed to complain when one of them would suddenly just pick you up and take you to their chambers. You already knew what that meant.

🏺- You’d find yourself pinned under one more more god, their hands caressing your body, their teeth leaving deep marks that you wouldn’t dream of calling ‘love bites’ there wasn’t nothing ‘loving’ about those bites. No matter how much they preach and repeat it.

🪡- Some days it would be one god after the other, other times you’d get a break. But there’s only some much a human can go through. One moment you’d be in the garden or somewhere with Hermes, his lips on your nether regions, sucking and licking at you while another moment you’d be bounced up and down on Ares while Aphrodite made out with you.

🏺- It made your head spin at times. Most times you were scared, who wouldn’t? It’s not like the men here had manhoods that looked anything like human..maybe an enough to look familiar in shape but still. Zeus was one such example, you actually remember begging him not to go through with it- afraid that the thing between his legs would split you in half but he would only laugh and hike your legs over his shoulders and whisper: “It’s okay little mortal.. we’ll do this as much times as we need for you to get accustomed to my size..”

🪡- Those words alone sent a shiver down your spine at the time. After that you weren’t able to walk properly for a few days. Not that the gods care, most of them found it funny. To see their little pet struggling to walk after such intense intimacy. “Poor thing, can’t even walk properly.” Poseidon would coo while watching you carefully ease yourself into the pool of water.

🏺- The sight alone made him excited and decided at that moment he wanted to help you ‘relax’…it wasn’t very relaxing to you. You would whimper as he sunk under the water and immediately attracted his lips to your hole.

🪡- Of course there were many instances like this but there were times where they did leave you alone and you did get time to yourself. Today was one of those days.

🏺- You were sat outside in the garden, fiddling with flowers and and grass blades. It was quiet for awhile and you actually had time to reflect on everything you’ve experienced. Sometimes it was good, other times it was bad..very bad and thought the Olympians tried to make you feel comfortable, you think that they don’t necessarily understand the word.

🪡- While you were thinking, you didn’t notice someone approaching you until a shadow of a man was cast over your body, blocking out the sun. You already knew it was one of the Olympians but you didn’t know which one until he spoke and that’s when you turned around.

🏺- “Ah, there you are, mortal..” Apollo spoke, a bright smile on his face as he crouched down next to you. “Relaxing in the garden I see..” He would mutter and you immediately got an off vibe..he wants something. As most of the gods did when they approached or summoned you, regardless you nodded to his statement as you fiddled with a petal of one of the asters that were growing in the garden.

🪡- Apollo smiled in response before speaking once more. “That’s good, that’s good..but perhaps you could relax with me? We could go to my chambers where no one would bother us…” The golden haired god spoke, his voice smooth as he held your chin between his larger fingers. You tried your best not to seem apprehensive at his request but you couldn’t exactly deny him..could you? You opened your mouth to try and voice your opinion but Apollo spoke before you.

🏺- “Please, my dear?” He pouted a bit, trying to make you agree and after a mental back and forth you reluctantly agreed. This made Apollo beam and he wasted no time in picking you up and dashing over to his quarters.

☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️

☀️- After Apollo got you situated and ‘comfortable’ in his room, he laid on the bed in the spot next to you.

🎵- You were quiet as you fiddled with your chiton and he tilted his head curiously. “Relax, my dear. It’s just us..” He spoke.. you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t the slightest bit charming. Apollo would shuffle closer to you and wrap his arms around your body. His fingers moving to caress your skin causing you to tense up a bit.

☀️- Apollo figured you’d still be apprehensive, but he thought he could get you to loosen up a bit. And so he continued to gently feel up your body, trying to coax you to relax a bit.

🎵- You were going to protest about the touching but Apollo quickly covered your lips with his own. He did this on purpose..wanting to silence your words that might ruin the moment. Your eyes widened and on instinct you tried to push him away, but he kept himself firmly against you. Kissing your lips and letting out a soft groan as his hand slipped under your chiton.

☀️- You obviously flinched, letting out a muffled squeak that caused the deity of light to chuckle. He could tell you were starting to slowly give in and kiss back, even if he could still feel the anxious beats of your heart. He decided to take things a step further.

🎵- Pinning you down to his bed and and moving his fingers to your hole. Teasingly rubbing his thumb over the opening as he moved his lips over to your neck, placing gently kisses as you whimpered. He then slowly fed you one of his fingers and bit his bottom lip at how your body tensed and gripped his index finger. He could never get tired of the way your body felt.

☀️- “There you go…that’s it…~” He would purr before adding another finger and scissoring your entrance then slowly pumping his fingers in and out. Curling them and stroking the spot inside you he knew would make you cry out. Your back arched a you whined, calling out his name as your hands immediately reached to grab for something..anything.

🎵- Apollo grinned and kissed your lips once more..adding a third fingers and moving them at a steady pace..not hard enough to hurt but not too slow either. All this was getting to him too but he wanted to focus on you mainly. For now at least…

☀️- He had you twitching and shivering from all the pleasure and the deity had drawn a few climaxes from you as well. You were panting and out of breath by the time he was done and he finally gave you a break..removing his fingers from your women out hole as he peppered your cheek with kisses.

🎵- “Mmm..such a pretty mortal..you did so well…you deserve a reward..” He would say before firmly pressing his lips against yours once more. At first you thought it was just a normal passionate kiss..but you suddenly felt a liquid like substance run down your tongue and down your throat.

☀️- Your eyes slightly widened as a slight burning feeling started to engulf your body. Your hands immediately reaching to try and push Apollo away, but he just groaned softly and caged your body between him and the bed. His tongue running over yours, sucking on the wet muscle and coating it with more of the golden liquid..

🎵- The more of this liquid he fed you the more your body started to feel like it was burning from the inside out. Your heart beating faster as the substance dribbled and leaked from the corner of your mouth. Tears burning in your eyes as you ingested every last drop he gave you.

☀️- Soon enough your heart stopped as you let out a muffled cry while Apollo gently rubbed your hips..pulling his lips away from yours and whispering that you’d be okay. He held you in his arms as you laid ‘dead’ for a minute or so before your heart started to beat once more; and Apollo smiled.

🎵- It was done..he had fed you his immortal blood..his ichor and now you’d never die. Or maybe you did..your old self..but that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you’d never be able to escape them ever again..not even in death…they made sure of that.

Author note: Oof, sorry this took a long while. I’ll admit I wasn’t very focused and I procrastinated a bit. But on top of that I had things at home doing. Though I’m glad I finished it, usually if things take this long I like to post screenshots to show ppl I haven’t forgotten. I was just so slow to get this out. Sorry again but I hope this is to your liking, Anon! And to everyone else.

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angstywaifu · 1 day ago

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hey sweetie...love ur content btw.....how do you think the fourthwing boys will be after a very bad argument

Oh I like this one, and I have some very solid ideas on how they’d all react. So lets dive in! I am going to do this in the context that you’re in a relationship with them. A/N: If you guys want any more like this, please send them in. I absolutely love doing these.

Bodhi.

I feel like Bodhi would feel bad as soon as you’re not there. He’d start replaying the argument in his head, freaking out he’s probably messed it all up and that you’ll leave him. Pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath as he pulls at his curly hair. I can imagine him finding someone to talk to about what happened to try get some ideas on what he can do to make it better Anyone he asks saying to just go and talk to you, but he’s adamant it won’t be enough because he thinks he’s really fucked up. I see him trying to find a gift to give you as a sign of how bad he feels and to try make it up to you.

Liam.

Sweet Liam. He would be in the same boat as Bodhi where he would feel extremely bad after it and instantly regret how it went. I feel like he would be a bit more calmer than Bodhi about it, being able to formulate a plan on his own on how to show how sorry he was. I can see him making you a little figure or something out of wood as a peace offering. He’d either leave it at your door with a note saying how sorry he was, or he’d hand deliver it depending how confident he was you wouldn’t rip his head off.

Garrick.

As much as I love this man and he will always take top spot out of all the boys for me, we all know he’s going to be moody about it for a while. Especially with a very bad argument. He probably went too far and said something he didn’t entirely mean in the heat of the moment. He’d be in a mood for a while after. Spending heaps of time in the gym or training to try let off some steam. I can see Xaden or Bodhi telling him to pull his head in and fix it. Once this happens and he’s probably thought about it all, he would feel extremely bad. He’d come up to you, tail between his legs like a scolded puppy asking for your forgiveness and he went too far. Man would have some serious grovelling to do after this.

Dain.

Dain for me really depends on the context of the argument. If he think’s he’s in the right you know he isn’t going to feel bad about it. He will stick by his point till his dying breath unless you can give him extremely solid proof he was wrong and can sway him. And even then you’re going to need to constantly prove that to him till he’s fully on your side. He is going to be very stubborn in the aftermath of a bad argument.

Xaden.

I feel like we get a decent view on what he would be like. I think just like Garrick he would probably need some time to cool off after, but not as much time. He’d probably need someone to knock a little sense into him, but I think he would most likely come around on his own once he’s cooled off. I can see him sparing with Liam or Garrick to get his anger out or going off on a supply run to do so. I can also see him being stubborn like Dain depending on the context of the fight. But unlike Dain I could see him being a bit more lenient on his opinion and wanting to work with you on it. But yet again, this would also depend on the context of the fight.

Brennan.

I feel like I’ve lumped all the boys who are a little bit stubborn down the bottom together. Brennan is very caring, and would no doubt feel bad for any fight he has with you. But yet again, depending on the context he’s very likely not going to budge on his opinion. I do think after some time to cool off he would be willing to talk through your side of the argument even if he wasn’t going to change his stance. He’d want to understand where you are coming from to see if there is anything he can do to help make it better for you. He would also do something to make it up to you if he wasn’t going change his stance, attempt to make you dinner or plan something for the two of you.

I’m not as confident on Sawyer and Ridoc, but I’m going to give these a crack and hope you guys like this.

Sawyer.

As stated above, I’m not as confident on his character. I really need to do a reread to get a better grasp on him. But we do see how caring he can be. I mean the man went all out on trying to learn sign language to talk to Jessinia (even if he stupidly went to Ridoc for help on this). So I feel like we’re going to get a very similar outcome to Bodhi and Liam where he will feel bad about it and will 100% do something to make it up to you. This man seems like he’s all about putting in the effort for someone he’s with.

Ridoc.

I won’t deny this is the one I’m the least sure on. I think we could put him in the feels bad about it basket. He’d also probably be completely oblivious and say you were over reacting, leading to Rhi smacking him across the head while she tells him he’s an idiot. I can see him going all out on some dramatic plan to apologise to you and it probably falling apart completely and being a complete and utter mess.

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the-s1lly-corner · 3 days ago

Text

Making flower crowns for various crps (1/?)

I'm making these like. No bake granola balls and omg I tried some before I put it up and it's so good I'm so excited to try them when they're ready

Characters: slenderman, splendorman, ticci toby, masky, hoodie

Notes: reader is gn, this may be split into 3 parts for the characters , we will see, writing this while in a massive motivation slump chat i am struggling

CWs: none

SLENDERMAN

he already knows what youre doing long before you approach him with the crown... he does feign some level of surprise just for you albeit in the form of lightly raising his brows- he... doesnt emote that often...

he wears it for a while just for you, though he does eventually hang it somewhere so it can dry out and be preserved. he WILL raise hell if someone comes into his woods and steals it like they do his pages. it was a gift you made for him, hes not going to let some wandering hiker steal it from him

just say the word and he will bring you flowers to make more crowns, or better yet take you to where a lot of flowers tend to grow in the woods!

leaves flowers in your room or at your home for you whenever he gets the chance to gather some

SPLENDORMAN

oooooooo did you make that for him? give him a second to make one for you so the two of you can match! no really he only needs a minute or two, hes for the speed and efficiency to make one much much faster than you ever could- whether from experience or excitement or simply being built different... you werent sure!

will loop it around his hat so it rests on the brim.. will point out the specific flowers you wove into it and asks if the choices were intentional... even if they werent hes going to compliment your choices and if youre interested ramble about the meanings of the flowers you did choose

he loves daisies and sunflowers! they look so... "happy" as he puts it!

will dry the crown out so he can keep it long term

MASKY

why would you make him this? not to make him sound ungrateful, he moreso means it in a confused sense because... what use is there to wear this? it is nice, though....

dont even try to snatch it back off of his head hes going to either evade you or grip it to his head in his hands- possibly the most... expressive... youve seen him be in response to non-dangerous things

keeps it stashed away somewhere when he needs to take it off to go into the woods and do his work

he... finds himself making one for you... the process is actually quite calming for him... half of the flowers he picks are actually weeds- not that he cares about the difference. a flower is a flower regardless of where it grows

HOODIE

he likes it! you... think... the mask makes it hard to tell and he just... let you put it on top of his head- you get the feeling that he already knew you were making the crown

keeps it in a safe space, but somewhere visible so you know that he didnt through it out or trash it or whatever- he knows you put time and effort into this and hes going to let you know that hes not going to disregard it... will dry it out like his boss

one night he comes home with all sorts of plants- flowers, weeds, grass, everything he could get his hands on- in his arms and dumps them in front of you- and he starts signing...

...he wants you to show him how to make a crown too!

TICCI TOBY

initially acts like its not that big of a deal or that its really something hes interested in it... but hes shutting you down when you offer to take it back

wears it even when he goes out in the woods, will throw hands if someone snatches it off of his head or damages it in some way. he does NOT care if theyre just flowers!

attempts to dry the crown out, likely fails somewhere down the line and he feels so distraught- he knows that it was going to happen eventually but god does it do nothing to take away the disappointment.. his ass does not know how to effectively preserve plants

you both sit together making crowns

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blackenedsnow · 2 days ago

Note

Hello! I love your writing and I hope you're having a good day/night! Could you do Sonic dating someone with social anxiety and is also an introvert? I struggle with social anxiety myself and have a hard time speaking up sometimes, especially with new people. Sonic is a comfort character of mine that I'd think would do his best to help their anxious partner in situations where they're overwhelmed. Take your time write this! No pressure at all!❤️

sonic dating a reader with anxiety ; headcanons

WARNING: Anxiety

PAIRING: Sonic the Hedgehog x Reader

NOTE: Thank you so much for trusting me with this request! I poured a lot into Sonic’s support here. Remember, there’s no pressure to be anything other than yourself here. Take care, and know you’re never alone in this! ❤️

Sonic had always been able to talk to anyone without a second thought, so it took him a little while to fully grasp the extent of your social anxiety.

At first, he’d notice that you’d freeze up or look uncomfortable when around new people, or that you’d stay in the background at gatherings.

But once he understood, it clicked for him in a big way.

The idea of his favorite person being scared or overwhelmed really tugged at his heart, and he made a silent promise to help in every way he could.

Whether it’s a small gathering with his friends or a larger event, Sonic keeps you close, always aware of your comfort level.

If he sees you start to withdraw or tense up, he’ll step in smoothly.

Sometimes it’s with a joke to defuse the situation, sometimes with a quick distraction, or just a comforting hand on your shoulder as if to say, “I’ve got you. You’re not alone.”

Sonic is very perceptive of when things start to become too much for you.

If you’re at a crowded place and he notices you’re feeling uneasy, he’ll lean in with a gentle,

“Wanna go somewhere quieter?”

If you nod, he’ll flash you a reassuring smile, and in an instant, he’ll whisk you away to a quieter corner or outside where you can catch your breath.

He’s never pushy, always giving you the option to leave if that’s what you need.

Sonic has a knack for knowing when to use his lighthearted, playful approach to help lift the weight off your shoulders.

Sonic quickly picked up on the times when speaking up felt impossible for you.

If you’re at a restaurant and struggling to order or around others who are dominating the conversation, he’ll step in for you without missing a beat.

“Hey, can we get a little more space here?” or “Mind if we let my amazing partner share their thoughts?”

His casual way of giving you room to express yourself makes things a bit easier, knowing he’s on your side.

Sonic’s always hyper-aware in crowded spaces.

He’s like a human (or, well, hedgehog) shield, positioning himself so you’re buffered from the hustle and bustle.

He’ll keep you close, sometimes holding your hand tightly, or if you’re really nervous, he’ll even wrap his arm around you protectively.

Sonic’s not usually one for PDA, but he’ll make an exception to help you feel safe and grounded.

Sonic celebrates your small victories, knowing how much courage it takes.

Whether it’s speaking up in a group, meeting a new friend, or even just making it through a social outing, he’ll always be there with a proud smile, a high-five, or a quick

“You did awesome, I’m so proud of you!”

It’s never over-the-top or embarrassing—just Sonic’s way of reminding you that every step counts.

Sonic knows that sometimes, you just need to be alone to recharge.

He doesn’t take it personally; in fact, he admires how self-aware you are about your own needs.

If you let him know you need a day to yourself, he’ll give you space without hesitation.

But of course, he’ll check in with a quick text like,

“Hope you’re doing okay! Take all the time you need. Catch you soon, alright?” so you know he’s thinking of you.

When Sonic senses your anxiety building up, he’ll subtly try to get you laughing, often with something silly just to lighten the mood.

He’s not afraid to make a fool of himself if it means you’ll feel a little less tense.

Sonic doesn’t shy away from asking if you’re okay when he notices you’ve been unusually quiet or down.

His usual upbeat tone softens a bit as he gently checks in,

“You seem a little off—wanna talk about it?”

He’s a great listener, and even if you find it hard to talk about your feelings, he’ll give you all the time you need, never rushing or judging.

Even though Sonic will step in when you need it, he also encourages you to find ways to work through your social anxiety at your own pace.

He’ll suggest small steps, always patient and gentle, understanding that it takes time.

“Wanna try saying hi to Knuckles on your own today?” he’ll ask with an encouraging grin.

He’s proud of every little step you take.

Above all, Sonic’s love for you is constant, patient, and kind.

He never makes you feel ashamed or like you’re a burden.

He sees your social anxiety as a part of you, not something that defines you.

To him, you’re amazing just as you are, and he’s always there, ready to support you no matter what.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic #sonic x reader #sonic fanfic #sonic fanfiction #x reader #ask #request #fanfic #headcanons

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hibiscus-reign · 2 days ago

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The thing that still has me icked about the whole break up are the writing and marketing choices behind it. I’m not too fully aware if this could even be possible for Tommy’s position, but a better job opportunity would’ve been the best case to put a nail in this relationship. It has the lonely gay character leaving on a potential positive note, the same way Abby left if that’s what they were truly trying to parallel from the start, and it shows off Buck’s growth of accepting letting go again without the attachment that he had with Abby. And it doesn’t kill of the thing that this whole relationship had going for it, which was communication and honesty. That’s the part that mostly stings for me, how they set up Tommy in a less favorable light, but Buck is left off with the sympathy. This ending still gives Buck that without the questionable choice they gave Tommy. And if they ever did want to bring Tommy back they still have something in their corner, the red string, because strings pull at the most unexpected times.

And then the marketing… we had entry level relationship, gay yoda, and mentor roll tossed around all too closely with wanting it to be like Tarlos, a respected queer story not revolved around stereotypes, a joint actor’s interview when some of the most established couples don’t even get that… do you see where the hope and confusion comes from… the show runner can’t act surprised to that. You oversold something storyline wise when you weren’t even sure what you were selling.

Also, this relationship brought in new fans and old fans who had already gave up on the show before, and expected the same level of loyalty as from the fans who’ve been here from the start. And the those fans who honest to god have tried (that includes me), struggled finding a balance here because we’ve had constant harassment from a bigger more violent side, and with that experience you can’t really blame some people for taking a break at best, or leaving entirely because the experience wasn’t the best no matter how much we love the other characters. Some of us (me again lol) will be watching clips, probably not the whole show, and then just leave fandom behind. That’s valid too.

Edit: Also, no I have something to add, the harassment was so bad I’ve seen long time viewers leave too. So also think about that.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #that last part is mostly for that one person #the door won’t whack me on the way out when I’m the one slamming it shut #and now I think for good I’ve made my peace

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arts-bloody-rose · 14 hours ago

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Blood of A Rose - Part 4 (Art the Clown x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary - (Y/n) begins to notice Art suddenly growing more distant and she spirals into insecurity and concern. He reassures her and opens up about what has been occurring, but the events to follow will forever change the course of their lives together.

Notes - Y’all it’s here!! Definitely finished sooner than I thought, crazy what motivation does to someone lol. This is probably my favorite of all of the works I’ve done for Art and I’m so excited to bring you all on this journey! Without further ado, enjoy the show.

Word Count - 7,287

Warning(s): Blood/gore, violence, insecurity, smut, self-harm, suicide/sacrifice (don’t worry)

Song Inspiration -

ZAND - I Spit On Your Grave

Lewis Blisset - Killing Butterflies

(Y/n) entered the work room with a heavy sigh, tearing the fresh newspaper before tossing it into the trash. Art waved at her half-heartedly from where he worked at his bench, not bothering to face her as he focused.

She set down a small cardboard box on her stool and looked around for a moment.

“Can I use that knife for a moment?” She asked the clown casually. Art gave her a suspicious side-eye before reluctantly passing her a steak knife. “Thank you.”

She cut at the tape, opening her new shipment of paint before handing the knife back to him and unpacking the box.

“Anything crazy happen when I was gone?” She asked, but then quickly answered for him before he could even comprehend the question. “No? Good.”

Art stared at her in disbelief, expressing a blatant what the fuck as he squinted. He watched as (Y/n) tossed away the box and sighed again as she hung her camera around her neck, his signal to get up.

The clown put his hands on his hips and gave her a stern look. Her gaze softened and she gave him a gentle smile.

“I’m okay, I’m just in a bit of a mood.” She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek, Art simply poking the tip of her nose with an approving nod before grabbing his bag.

“Man or woman tonight?” (Y/n) questioned as she played with the ruffled fabric at the bottom of his sleeve, eyes focused on the sidewalk they followed. “Or both?” She added and Art pointed at her with a mischievous grin, agreeing. “We should find a couple, but that might be harder to find. Could always just get a man and woman separately and -“

Art slapped his free hand over her mouth and they froze, (Y/n) looking up at him expectedly.

Voices were heard speaking casually in the distance and she followed his gaze, coincidentally spotting a couple walking out of a restaurant. Art grinned mischievously and removed his hand from her mouth, the two of them sharing an eager expression, then simultaneously looking back at the couple before stalking forward.

Art disappeared into an alleyway while (Y/n) continued to follow the couple from behind them.

“Excuse me?” She innocently caught their attention. They turned to see her, the man more skeptical while the woman was more concerned. “My friend just collapsed, I think she blacked out, but I’m not sure and I don’t know what to do.” (Y/n) panicked, fidgeting with her hands.

“Sure thing hun, where is she?” The woman politely pressed further.

“She’s just over here.” (Y/n) motioned to the alleyway not far from them. The woman stepped forward to follow her, the man hesitating before shaking his head and following reluctantly.

As they turned into the alleyway, (Y/n) slowed to stand behind them as they wandered further, looking into the seemingly empty space. The woman turned to question (Y/n) when a loud thud sounded as a plank rammed against her head, sending her into the brick wall.

The man shouted as he watched her fall, his gaze then trailing to trace the figure of the monochromatic clown that stood menacingly in front of him. The man gasped and quickly spun around to leave, only to come face to face with (Y/n) who casually leaned against the wall. She raised her hand, wiggling her fingers at him in a wave before ramming his skull into the wall, his body collapsing next to his partner.

Art laughed wildly with glee in her participation, dropping the board and clapping his hands. He turned to his bag as (Y/n) lifted her camera, adjusting it then snapping a couple of photos as the couple groaned in pain together.

When Art stood straight once more, she turned her back to them and leaned against the wall again, watching the street while she patiently waited.

After long, Art tapped her on the shoulder and presented the now mangled pair, (Y/n) tilting her head in thought. After minor deliberation, Art propped them up against the wall to sit next to each other, leaning against the other with the woman’s head on the man’s shoulder.

(Y/n) crouched, catching different angles and lighting while Art watched her work, taking in her form and focus with admiration. He caught the sound of new voices, head snapping as his smile dropped ever so slightly before stepping towards the opening of the alleyway.

He reached the entrance, peeking his head out and looking both ways. He caught sight of a trio of teenagers, two brunettes and a blonde as they giggled. His eyes squinted when the shorter brunette turned her face more into his view, rage subtly beginning to simmer as his eyes glimmered in recognition.

“What’s the matter?” (Y/n) asked when she stepped beside him, following his line of sight to see the same three girls. “You want them too?” She furrowed her brow when he didn’t acknowledge her. “Art?”

He finally broke away from them and looked over at her, waving his hand off in dismissal.

“Let’s get going, then.” She watched as he cast the disappearing girls one last look before turning to grab his bag, then took her hand as he came up to her and began their walk back home. (Y/n) looked back at the group one last time with suspicion.

As the two of them laid in their bed, (Y/n) couldn’t help but remember Art’s strange behavior earlier. She tried to focus on his steady breathing and the beat of his heart, his fingers that mindlessly caressed her shoulder. But it couldn’t distract her enough to brush it off.

She felt Art tap her shoulder, feeling the unsteady rhythm of her heart that contrasted his own. (Y/n) looked up at him and he tilted his head at her in a silent question.

She took a deep breath and sighed. “What was that earlier? With those girls?”

Art’s lips twitched, then he waved his hand as if to say it was nothing.

“You’ve never done that before.” (Y/n) pressed. Art frowned and a firm finger raised, warning her to not worry. She laid her head back down on his chest in defeat and he rubbed her shoulder, soothing her to help her fall asleep.

(Y/n) stood in darkness. A void. Surrounded by nothing. She turned to see the silhouette of what seemed to be the shorter brunette from the trio, a nauseous feeling settling in (Y/n)’s stomach as tears welled up in her eyes.

As she felt one trickle down her cheek, a hand cradled her chin and turned her head to face them. She was met with the beautiful green eyes of her infamous clown, falling into a trance as her legs began to lose feeling, jellifying under his piercing gaze.

But when she reached up to his face, he disappeared.

Her eyes fluttered open, the spot next to her on the bed cold and empty. Her eyes looked towards the boarded window, seeing no light shining through. She reached for her phone on the nightstand, checking the time.

3:47.

(Y/n) stood with a sigh and rubbed at her tired eyes, sluggishly walking towards the door and leaving the room in search of Art. She entered the work room, expecting to find him sitting at his bench. But there was no sign of him.

She checked the other rooms they rarely used, thinking he might’ve been in a more sporadic mood. But again, no sign.

She meandered back over to her door when the entrance of the building opened and in walked the man in question, though without his bag and without more blood than she had fallen asleep to.

He paused in the doorway, staring at her with his usual grin and she felt a pang in her chest, looking him up and down before disappearing back into her room without further acknowledgement.

Art cocked his head back in confusion, smile faltering at her behavior. He thought about following her, comforting her or cheering her up in some way. But he decided against it and made his way to his bench.

She felt another pang in her chest when she heard him begin to hammer away, hoping that he would join her.

Her mind raced, jumping to conclusion after conclusion.

Something wasn’t right, that much was evident. It didn’t start until he saw the group of girls. He wasn’t bothered, no. She knew him well enough to know that.

No, what she saw in his eyes was determination. Sadistic, violent determination that worried her more than it should have. So much so that an uneasy feeling began to settle in her stomach. A feeling she hadn’t felt during the nearly full year they had been together.

Uncertainty.

During her turmoil, she fell back asleep, exhausted from the events of the night and her unfiltered thoughts.

When she awoke the next day, the sun was up as rays showed between the boards. (Y/n) stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, mind quiet as she slowly blinked.

Eventually, she stood and changed into a different outfit, sighing as she adjusted her clothes and finished getting ready before walking out towards the work room.

Her spirits lifted when she saw Art’s back to her at his bench this time, toying with one of his creations. She shuffled behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso and feeling him relax beneath her. One of his hands reached down to pat her forearm, settling on top of it as he felt her cheek press against his back.

“Missed you last night.” (Y/n) mumbled against him and his finger caressed her wrist in acknowledgment.

She finally let go and stepped to stand beside him, kissing his cheek then sitting on her stool.

“Sharpening?” (Y/n) asked as he ran one of his knives along a metal rod and nodded. “Getting ready for something special, then?” She continued and yawned.

Art nodded again, slower as he was deep in thought. He tossed the knife back into his bag sat beside him and stood, (Y/n)’s eyes following him curiously as he twisted the opening into a handle and slung it over his shoulder.

“We’re going out during the day?”

Art shook his head, slicing his hand across the air to tell her no. He pointed at her and made the motion again and her eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“You don’t want me to go…?”

Art’s eyes widened at the evident pain in her voice, waving his hand in front of him and shaking his head more vigorously in a panic to console her.

“Then why shouldn’t I go?” She stood and her voice raised a little, the rate of her heart beginning to pick up.

Art motioned for her to calm down and take a deep breath, pointing between the two of them and giving her an ok symbol. He rested his free hand on her shoulder and bent down to kiss her nose, walking backwards towards the exit and giving her a thumbs up for reassurance.

As (Y/n) heard the door close, she began to hyperventilate as her mind raced with thoughts she never imagined were possible being with Art.

Why didn’t he want her with him? Was there someone else? Was he growing tired of her?

The image of the girl from her dream, manifesting from the trio they saw that night entered her mind.

Tears pricked at her eyes and she breathed heavily, pacing the room that now felt colder than usual and empty. A choked sob slipped past her lips and she covered her mouth.

“No…” (Y/n) denied the possibility of him cheating on her. How could someone so simple take his attention away from her? From the relationship they had built together for so long?

Unless the girl wasn’t as simple as she thought.

“No, no, no -“ She repeated to herself in desperation, and fell to her knees, arms wrapping around herself in false comfort.

She cried, the dam she so proudly held finally breaking as everything came crashing down onto her in that moment. She crawled across the floor to lean back against the wall, head tilted back as she continued, looking up at the ceiling helplessly.

After some time, her throat grew raw and her cries died down to sniffling and shaky breaths. She finally looked down from the ceiling to the concrete floor, catching a glimmer of something out of the corner of her eyes.

She turned her head to see a simple kitchen knife laying a few feet away, taunting her as the blade shined beneath the single bulb hanging from the center of the dull room.

(Y/n) stared at it for a few moments, a defeated sob working its way out of her throat as she slowly reached for it. She simply looked at it as she held it in her lap, contemplating.

Her breathing grew labored, trembling as she slowly rolled up the sleeve of her left arm. The blade was lifted to the skin, just barely grazing the surface when she heard the front door open and she yanked it away, standing up in a rush.

Her heart raced when she heard familiar footsteps grow closer, closer until the clown entered, bag nowhere to be seen. He looked around for a moment, eyes squinted in observation before he spotted her.

His grin immediately dropped at the sight before him. Her sleeve was up, blade in her other hand and shaking in her grasp. What disturbed him more than the blade was the raw emotion in her eyes. Emotions he would typically drink in with pleasure.

Panic, fear. Pain.

(Y/n) froze, unsure of what was going through his head, the sight of his frown unsettling in that moment. She took a step forward, face set in determination.

“Who is she?” She choked out. No response. “Who is she!” (Y/n) shouted, breaking.

Art slowly shook his head, forgetting about his theatrics with her state and stepping closer to her.

“Who is she to be more deserving of your attention?” Tears began to flow down her cheeks once more. “What does she offer that I don’t?” Her voice cracked.

Art simply stood, unmoving as he took in her words.

“Answer me!” She screamed desperately.

He watched as (Y/n) looked down in defeat, then at her arm, then slowly back up at him. And Art noticed the familiar look of determination. The one he himself was so well acquainted with.

Before he could understand what was happening, she quickly ran the blade across her inner forearm, effectively slicing the skin as red began to flow down in gentle streams and drip onto the floor.

Art lurched forward and snatched the blade from her hand, tossing it to the side as it clattered onto the floor. He gritted his teeth at her, frustrated as she stared at him with tear-stained cheeks. He looked down at the wound she inflicted, observing the damage.

It wasn’t deep enough to cause fatal harm, but it was a decent gash that would take some time to heal. He pressed the sleeve of his own forearm against it, soaking the blood and adding pressure to prevent further bleeding.

He frowned as he looked back at her after hearing a sob, shaking his head at her in disappointment.

“Please don’t leave me…” His brow furrowed. “I’ll do anything.” She whispered desperately and his expression softened in realization. “Please…” She watched as his gaze pierced through her and felt a strange pressure in her head, followed by an odd sense of comfort and adoration.

Art suddenly leaned in and their lips met in sweet, demented unison. He tasted the salt of her tears, as did she as pressure was added to their kiss and she was flooded with overwhelming emotion.

Her uninjured arm desperately reached up around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer as she stood on her toes. His own free arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her into him, then he suddenly lifted her up bridally.

(Y/n) gripped onto him as if her life depended on it, burying her face in his neck as he brought them to her room and placed her on the bed, hovering over her.

Their lips met once more and they desperately clawed at each other, eager to prove that the other was real. Art moved down to her neck, biting and sucking harshly as she jumped and breathed heavily for an alternate reason.

His hands bruisingly gripped her waist as he ground himself into her, taking in her harmonious hums of pleasure. His hands slipped beneath her shirt, raising it to reveal the skin beneath until it was pulled over her head, mindful of her cut that he continued to press dry every now and then.

His teeth dragged down her neck, in between her breasts, gloved hands desperately kneading them through her bra and growing frustrated with the fabric. He reached under her and toyed with the clip, eventually unclamping it and tugging it off before he returned to her breasts to continue his mannerisms.

She sighed as his mouth aggressively latched on to one of her nipples, toying with it and rubbing himself on her thigh that he straddled. (Y/n) yelped when he bit down particularly hard, her thigh meeting his erect member and his head leaned back, eyes closed and mouth open at the unexpected pressure.

Art licked down her stomach, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake and tugged off her pants and underwear impatiently, breathing hotly against her core. He grit his teeth in anticipation, looking up at her as she gazed at him with hooded eyes, hand reaching down to grasp at his shoulder.

He then leaned in and began to ravage her pussy, dragging out a moan from her as her head dug into the pillow beneath her. His movements were erratic and desperate, fingers digging into her thighs and kneading them as he rocked his hips into the mattress.

Her hips lifted to meet his tongue, practically grinding into his mouth and his chest rumbled in approval, growling noiselessly as he let her use him for herself.

As her pitch and volume heightened, he focused on bringing her to the brink of her orgasm, hands roaming up and down her figure.

Just as she neared the edge, he pulled away and she sighed, looking down at him with a pleading expression. Art looked up at her and crawled his way up the length of her body with an animalistic bearing, biting at her bottom lip and delving in to taste her lips once more.

(Y/n) reached around to undo his zipper, pulling it down and sliding the fabric of his suit off of his shoulders as he took over to bring it down the rest of the way until his erection was freed.

Their teeth clashed as he rubbed his tip against her center, using his hand to rub the moisture over the rest of his heavy cock. She whined as she felt him poke at her, sighing when his hips rolled and his member slipped past her folds and buried itself into her.

Art wasted no time in waiting, setting a steady rhythm as his mouth worked its way down her neck again, settling on sucking aggressively at the delicate skin. One of his arms reached beneath her, hooking his hand on her shoulder to pull her into him as he thrusted into her. His other pressed against her forearm to block the wound, taking her mind away from the aching pain as his speed increased.

She cried out in pure bliss, hand resting on the back of his neck and holding him against her as her thighs pulled back. He angled himself upwards, finding the area she loved so sweetly as she nearly screamed into his ear.

He licked up and down her neck through his grin, pounding into her with newfound aggression as she clung onto him. Her eyes rolled back, closing as her mind grew foggy with intense pleasure.

With a few more thrusts, she was thrown over the edge and arched her back, pressing herself into him as she rode out her high. Art watched her with lust clouded eyes, thrusts growing sloppy as he chased his own release. She felt him pulse within her and moaned at the sensation, feeling him fill her more than before and looked down at where they met.

Art huffed silently and pulled out, collapsing next to her with a lazy smile. He looked down at her arm and frowned, giving her a for shame motion with his fingers. (Y/n) met his patronizing gaze with doe eyes, wide and filled with unanswered questions.

“What are you hiding from me?” She whispered, dreading the answer.

Art held up a finger, as if to say first. He pointed between the two of them, then waved a careless hand out into the room to show nothing else in the world mattered to him but themselves.

“Then what is happening? What is so special about that girl?” (Y/n) sat up, invested in what was going on and he followed her up.

Art pointed to himself, then to the window to represent the girl, then ran a finger across his neck and made an after motion.

“Why not just kill her and be done with it since you’re so determined?”

Art shook his head then grinned mischievously. He balled his hands into fists, putting one over the other and slowly twisting.

“You want to torture her?” Art nodded. “You can’t just do that right before you kill her like everyone else?” Art shook his head again.

He pointed between the window - the girl - and himself, slicing at the air in front of him with his arms then folding them in front of himself like a child throwing a temper. He then pointed back at the window, then himself, then slid a finger across his neck again.

(Y/n) chuckled incredulously. “She wants to kill you? So you’re basically enemies.”

Art nodded excitedly and pointed at her.

“That’s even more reason to just kill her and get it over with, that doesn’t make sense.”

(Y/n) stood and began to re-dress as Art watched with a thoughtful expression. When she turned to face him again he slid a finger across his neck for a third time, pointing firmly at the ground to say today.

“And I’m going with you, yeah?” She replied as a statement more than a question. Art began to shake his head and she crossed her arms, holding back a wince as she forgot about the cut. “I’m going with you.” She reaffirmed sternly and his shoulders slumped in defeat, looking off to the side with a glare.

Art looked back at her with a sarcastic smile, giving her two ok symbols before his smile fell and he rolled his eyes.

(Y/n) sighed and her expression softened, making her way over to him and guiding him to stand and turn around.

“We’ll be okay.” She reassured him softly as she zipped up his suit, letting him turn to face her again. “We always are, in the end.” She kissed the tip of his nose and he nodded giddily, his smile returning genuinely.

Later that evening, after the sun had just set, Art urged them to leave and get into the van - and still wouldn’t disclose where he got it from. She sat in the passenger seat and buckled, Art hopping into the driver’s seat and turning the ignition as the van revved itself to life.

“When did you learn to drive?” (Y/n) asked jokingly. Art shrugged sheepishly, then eyed the spot she sat in with an odd expression. “What?” He shook his head and waved her off with uncertainty, shifting the van into drive and speeding off to who-knew-where.

(Y/n) fidgeted with her camera when they pulled into a nicer neighborhood, rain pattering against the windshield as it stormed. He parked in front of a house at the end of a roundabout, pointing to it with an eager smile.

“Is this her house?”

Art shook his head, taping his index fingers together.

“Her friend?”

Art nodded and wiggled his eyebrows, (Y/n) sighing before the two of them got out and ran around to the back of the house. She gasped when he suddenly grabbed a brick and smashed in the sliding glass door, quickly collecting herself and following him inside to get out of the rain.

“Not feeling really subtle tonight, I see.” (Y/n) spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the silence settled in the house.

Art meandered into the kitchen, waving a hand in dismissal of her comment as she trailed behind him.

“It’s too bad, this house seems so nicely decorated.” She annotated as she looked around, facing Art when he grabbed a random glass from the counter and turned on the faucet to fill it with water.

She chuckled at his antics, turning into a giggle when he faced away from the sink to chug the water as if he hadn’t had any in days. (Y/n) then looked across the countertop, stepping closer when she spotted a pair of scissors and a knife.

She hummed in approval. “Found your favorite.” Art set down the glass once it was empty and spun to face her, spotting the two items and rubbing his hands together in excitement, making his way over to them.

(Y/n) suddenly heard a floorboard creak and looked around, seeing one of the brunettes from the other night watching them in pure terror. She casually lifted her camera and snapped a picture, Art giving a test snip of the scissors before looking to see what caught her attention.

He stood up straight with a playful smile when he spotted his victim, raising the tools in his hands and snipping the scissors tauntingly at her. The girl screamed and ran off, Art following after her immediately in the opposite direction.

“Have fun!” (Y/n) called after him, chuckling to herself when she heard them thump up the stairs.

She looked around a little while longer, appreciating the owner’s sense of interior design for a moment before sitting down on the living room couch. She turned on the TV, drowning out the sounds from upstairs as she flipped through the different channels.

She perked up when she saw an image on the news of Art leaving what seemed to be a costume shop during the day, suit freshly bloodied with his signature bag slung over his shoulder.

“Huh.” She reacted simply, then turned around when she heard footsteps from the stairs. Art walked out, coated in much more blood than before and she quirked an eyebrow. “Done already?” She asked with a hint of surprise.

Art shook his head, (Y/n) watching as he rummaged through the cabinets and cupboards in the kitchen. He pulled out a white gallon jug of a chemical she couldn’t quite read from where she sat, then a container of salt and giddily trotted back upstairs.

She simply shrugged and turned back to the TV, disappointment painting her face when the news anchor moved on to a different story.

Some time later, she jumped when she heard the shuffle of keys outside of the front door and switched off the TV, getting up to hide behind the wall of the staircase.

“Allie!” A woman called as the door opened and closed, presumably the girl’s mother. “Have you been handing out candy? That bowl is still filled to the brim.” She continued.

(Y/n) stood frozen, peeking around just enough to see the woman hanging up her purse on a rack by the door. She quickly hid back when the mother began to head up stairs, holding her breath when her steps suddenly stopped.

She dared to peer around once more, seeing her looking in the other direction where the glass door had been broken in. “Oh my god.” She gasped worriedly. “Allie?” The woman began to back away towards the stairs once more. “Allie!”

As her voice grew distant, (Y/n) finally let out a breath and rolled her eyes at the disturbance. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, waiting expectedly. After a minute or so, a scream echoed through the house and she nodded her head. “There it is.” (Y/n) mused, then kicked herself off of the wall and made her way back to the couch to resume watching the television.

When she heard Art descend the stairs a second time, he brought down the mother’s head with him and showed it to her with a proud flourish. (Y/n) walked up to him and examined it, noticing the top had been carved out into a makeshift bowl.

She looked up at him and shook her head with a smile, walking over to the candy bowl sat by the front door with Art in tow. “Don’t expect me to help with the kids.” She warned him as she took a few handfuls of candy and transferred them into the head. Art simply grinned at her and nodded his head.

Just then, the doorbell rang and (Y/n) shrugged, stepping around the clown to open the door for him. She hid behind the door, hearing the kids’ reactions of whoa’s and cool’s at Art’s ‘costume’ and candy bowl. “Ew,” She heard a little girl complain. “Why is mine so sticky?” (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry, it’s just fake blood, just put it in the bag.” The mom told the little girl and (Y/n) silently gave compliments to her for her patience. The kids giggled before they turned and left, granting a Happy Halloween before Art came back inside and closed the door.

“You get your fix?” (Y/n) asked him as he tossed the head to the side, candy scattering over the floor.

He shrugged in agreement, then clapped his hands together and pointed at the door for them to leave.

“Exactly how many people are you getting involved with tonight for this?” (Y/n) broke the silence as he drove, the rain slowly coming to a stop.

Art held up four fingers and she hummed.

“That’s a surprisingly small number for you. But I guess dragging out each victim will do that.” Art nodded joyfully, the van slowing down as they reached a new neighborhood.

They pulled in front of another house and parked, (Y/n) making a move to follow him when he told her to wait. She pouted and he reached out to her, gently patting her on the head before he got out of the van. She watched as he wandered up to the house until his figure disappeared inside.

(Y/n) jumped when the van suddenly shifted into drive and began to move seemingly on its own, unable to move as she just sat frozen and baffled.

She then looked over to the driver’s side and saw what looked like a little girl with strikingly pale skin. She was dressed similarly to Art himself, makeup and all. Though it resembled more of a poorly put together cosplay of him. Her teeth were just as rotten, but her eyes glowed a bright yellow and red when she looked over at (Y/n) with an eerie smile and waved.

Hesitantly, the woman returned her wave and spoke. “Are you a friend of Art’s?” She asked with a slight tremble in her voice. The little girl nodded, focusing back on the road as she cheerfully drove. “How long have you known each other?” (Y/n) asked, deciding to simply embrace what was happening and strike a conversation.

The little girl held up a finger.

“Days?” The girl shook her head. “Weeks? Months?” More shaking. “A year?” A nod. “You’ve been with him this whole time?�� The girl smiled giddily, tilting her head side to side. “I’m assuming you know who I am then?” She nodded again and held up a half-heart with her fingers.

Her face then twisted into focus, the van slowing to a stop. (Y/n) followed her line of sight, spotting a teenage boy hunched over and panting.

The girl suddenly honked the horn and (Y/n) jumped in surprise. “Can he see us?” She asked as the boy whipped around to look at the van in both fear and confusion.

The girl pointed at herself and shook her head, then pointed at (Y/n) and nodded. They watched as a group of kids ran past him and he stumbled, then turned to look back at them and slowly made his way towards the van.

“Is he serious?” The little girl clapped excitedly and nodded. The boy stopped a few feet away from the van, the radio turning on and glitching through different stations as he stared at (Y/n) with his eyebrows furrowed. He looked away at the group of kids that passed him when the girl honked the horn again to recapture his attention.

His eyes widened when the girl revealed herself to him, staring at him with a blank expression and wide eyes before he bolted.

When he left, the girl giggled silently and looked over at (Y/n) for validation. The woman genuinely joined her, the boy’s reaction amusing.

The van began to move again, following the boy as he ran into the house that Art had gone into and parked in front of it once more.

The girl turned to face (Y/n), the latter doing the same and paused when the girl poked her knee playfully. Then twice again. Not understanding, the girl motioned to her own knees, then looked back up at the woman expectedly.

Slowly, (Y/n) reached out and poked her knee just the same as the girl did and the girl giggled happily before reaching out and poking her knee again, now three times. (Y/n) followed.

She went along with the girl’s little games in boredom as they waited, then screams sounded from the house and they looked at each other in understanding.

Art suddenly emerged from the front door, dragging the boy from earlier by his arm, his body unmoving. The clown popped open the doors at the back of the van and slid the body inside, closing them as he walked around to the driver’s side door.

(Y/n) gasped and froze when the girl crawled over into her lap, plopping herself happily to sit on top of her and kicked her legs. Art opened the door, face showing surprise at first, then laughed when he saw (Y/n)’s shocked expression.

He hopped in the van and shut the door, throwing the van into drive and speeding off.

After a few minutes of driving, Art pulled out a phone from beneath his legs on the seat and handed it over to the little girl. (Y/n) watched as she unlocked it and filtered through its contacts, clicking on Sienna and dialing.

“Hello?” A female voice answered on the other end of the line.

“Sienna, I’m in trouble!” The girl mimicked the boy’s voice and (Y/n)’s eyes widened, looking over at Art as he laughed while watching the road in front of them.

“Oh, you think? Mommy told me what you did to her car, you little asshole. I mean, really?”

(Y/n) looked over at Art and pointed at him in question and he nodded proudly. “No, you have to come get me.” The little girl continued.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m at the old carnival. Eric and Sean left me here. I’m all alone!” The girl’s head tilted eerily with a creak.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Please, I’m really scared! I don’t know what else to do, I can’t call Mommy!”

“Okay, um - alright, calm down. I’ll come get you. Okay?”

“Hurry, my phone is dying!”

“Alright, just wait by the main entrance, okay?”

The girl hung up and the three of them looked amongst each other with a shared glint in their eyes.

As they rolled into the carnival’s parking lot, they all hopped out and Art grabbed the boy’s body from the back, throwing him over his shoulder. (Y/n) turned to look for the little girl, but found nothing and looked back at Art with a confused expression.

Art simply shrugged and began to make his way inside, (Y/n) following like a lost puppy.

“So when were you going to tell me about the girl?” She questioned him as they entered the Terrifier, trusting that Art knew where he was going through the maze of demonic props and animatronics.

He pointed between the two of them, then made a short this high motion to represent the little girl and waved his hand in dismissal.

“Is she always there?” Art shook his head, then pointed at her and made a sleeping motion. “Only when I’m asleep?” He nodded. “Well, that’s sweet of her, at least, to give us our time.”

Art shrugged as they entered a room that looked similar to their workroom at their own hideout, spotting a bench that was equally as messy with tools splayed out. His bag sat next to it, a small and broken in box TV in the center of the room not far from his bench.

Art turned to face her and aggressively pointed to the floor, telling her to stay put with a stern expression. (Y/n)’s lips parted in confusion.

“Why?” She pleaded, stepping closer to him as he adjusted the body over his shoulder and cocked his head at her, letting her know not to argue. She let out a shaky breath. “Will you be long…?” (Y/n) asked as she picked at her nails, worry decorating her face.

Art shrugged, not knowing how long it would take and she bit her lip. She took a deep breath and walked up to him, lifting herself on her toes to bring their lips together in a passionate kiss.

“Just come back to me.” She whispered, meeting his intense gaze.

Art gave her a firm nod and slowly turned to make his way out of the room.

“Art?”

The clown paused, head turning to acknowledge her.

“Give them hell.”

His mouth spread wide open with a large, toothy grin, then stalked out of the room to carry out whatever it was he had planned.

As she sat alone in Art's alternate workroom, the sounds of chaos and violence echoed through the walls. Her heart raced with every scream, every cry for help that pierced the air. She had learned to trust Art, but something felt different about that night as each passing moment felt heavier than the last.

She tried to calm herself, reminding herself that Art was a master of his craft, a performer who knew how to handle himself in any situation. But the fear crept in, consuming her with every passing second. What if something went wrong? What if he needed her and she wasn’t there?

Impossible.

(Y/n) paced the small room, hands trembling with anxiety. She longed to be by Art's side, to support him, to protect him. But there she was, helpless, waiting for him to come back to her.

Minutes turned into hours - or so it felt. Time seemed to stretch and warp, playing tricks on her mind. The cries of help, yelling and screaming had died for quite some time.

She tried to come up with reasons for his delay that made sense. Covering his tracks? Cleaning up?

Never. Not with Art.

She chewed at the inside of her cheek, thoughts spiraling into a dark abyss of worry and doubt. She had never felt so alone, so vulnerable.

After what she deemed to be too long of a silence, she gave in to her instincts and left the room. She wound through the maze, left and right and left and right, at first attempting to follow trails of blood and all leading to nowhere except another cheap attraction.

(Y/n) then found herself in a rather messy and empty-looking room. Trash seemed to litter every square inch, boards scattered among the dust and grime.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a familiar comically large shoe, turning her head slowly to find the source.

She gasped sharply, then cried out a painful scream at what lay before her.

She stumbled over to the decapitated body of her clown, falling next to it on her knees and frantically touching him.

“No, no, no - my love!” (Y/n) sobbed and continued to scream as tears streamed down her cheeks, refusing to accept that what was in front of her was real.

She leaned down to rest on top of his body, arms wrapping around him as if he were still alive. Her body shook violently as she lay there with him when something glimmered next to her.

A sparkle of silver shone from the bottom of his pant leg and she reached over to raise the fabric, seeing a hunter’s knife strapped to his calf.

(Y/n) simply breathed for a few moments, staring at the weapon. Her hand then grasped onto the handle and slid it out, squeezing it as she sat on her knees, hovering over his body.

She looked up at the ceiling, heartbroken and desperate.

“We’ll be okay.” Her voice echoed in her head.

Her other hand also came up to hold onto the handle, arms raising up, outstretched with the blade facing her torso.

“We always are, in the end.”

She plunged it into herself with a hoarse scream.

Blood seeped through her shirt, pouring down onto the body below her as she slid the blade out of herself. The knife clattered onto the floor as she dropped it, hands shaking as she slowly sunk down onto the stained floor to lay next to Art’s body.

(Y/n) snaked her arms around him, lightly pressing herself against him as her blood soaked into his suit from behind.

Her breath trembled, growing more and more shallow as time seemed to drag and her eyes grew heavier.

She gave in, eyelids drooping to close as everything went black.

“Just leave her.” A raspy and distorted female voice spit. “If you’re so determined, then do it yourself. I’m not wasting my time with this shit.”

The sound of retreating footsteps gradually disappeared, leaving a dark and disturbing presence to loom over the body that lay in the center of the dusty attic.

The figure crouched down beside them, gloved hand reaching out to caress their cheek. The same hand trailed down to their torso, palm covering the fatal gash that sat over where their heart was. The figure’s eyes closed for a moment, feeling as if a force was pulling at them, weakening their already vulnerable state as they grit their teeth.

Then it disappeared.

The figure’s eyes opened and took away their hand, watching as the face below him paled, yet somehow seemed to glow with a newfound ethereal beauty.

Suddenly, the body’s chest rose as it took in a breath, eyes fluttering open as it exhaled. Their eyes wandered for a moment, adjusting to the environment around them, then slowly met the now stark-white irises of the familiar face above them.

“Art?” Her delicate voice called to him.

Tag list: @hoe-for-daddywise @callsignwidow

#art #art the clown #art the clown x reader #damien leone #david howard thornton #terrifier #terrifier 2 #x reader #blood of a rose #fanfiction #terrifier 3 #terrifier 1 #terrifier x reader #art x reader #terrifier series #series #fanfic

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leosficlist · 1 day ago

Text

Post S4 Getting Together Pt3

Here we go again, gang, since I am a fiend. Again, parentlock is not the focus, but is a lovely bonus

Post S4 pt1, Post S4 pt2

Shift by Stopthat 48.5k words

“I’m tired, John,” He murmurs. Barely a whisper. John swallows, feeling irrationally helpless.

“I can see that,” He responds quietly, tracing an eyebrow with the pad of his thumb. “Sleep, then,” He can hear the crack in his own voice—a perfect match for the one in his chest. He hopes that Sherlock won’t notice, won’t try to pick it all apart.

“Not what I meant,” He rumbles, as he drifts off and away, leaving John alone in wakefulness to wonder what the hell had just happened.

notes: buying a house, misunderstandings, promises of forever, honeymoons

Tapestry by stopthat 15k words

“People would talk,” he tries, repurposing an old line, a shortcut to a recurring theme in their lives.

“They do little else.” John dutifully completes the circuit with a sigh. “Sherlock,” he continues haltingly, eyes falling back to his hands as he considers his words. “Would they be wrong, though, really?”

notes: getting together, going to harry/clara's wedding, first kiss, John adores Sherlock openly

Without Complexities or Pride by Raina_at 1.6k words

Love is what happens when you look and look and finally see.

notes: sweet, warm, a sliding together of finally

more than you could ever know by subtext-is-my-division (Quill_A) 7.6k words

Suddenly, Sherlock’s hand curls around his bicep. Warm and grounding, over the wool of his jumper. He fixes him with his impossible, multi-coloured gaze, and asks, “Are you happy?”

Is he-

Sherlock cocks his head, and his flushed cheeks glow in the darkness. (Sherlock always looks unfairly pretty when he’s drunk.)

notes: christmas fluff, convincing John to come back to baker st, Sherlock decorating for John and Rosie

coming home by disc0inferno 2k words

John keeps falling asleep in Baker Street, and Sherlock decides to finally call him out on it.

notes: soft, sweet, accidental cuddling, love confessions

When All Else Fails by ClueingForLooks_221B 6.7k

John laughed. “Well, I already poured you some, but no. I was going to ask, why don’t you ever correct anyone when they assume you and I are together?”

“We are together,” he replied simply, still typing away at his laptop.

John stiffened a bit at that. “What?”

“You and me. We’re together a lot, John. Why would I correct someone who points out a fact?”

John rolled his eyes as he headed back toward the kitchen. “That’s not what I meant,” he called as he put the wine back on the counter.

notes: soft and lovely, flirty but with a splash of insecure Sherlock

Home by aquileaofthelonelymountain 3.9k words

Suddenly, Sherlock couldn’t get his suitcase fast enough. Impatiently, he grabbed it and hurried through the masses toward the exit. A month abroad had been far too long.

After being away for a case, Sherlock is welcomed home.

In case you didn't know by TheKatlocker (TheKat79) 18.2k words

Sherlock loves John, John loves Sherlock... Are they ever going to tell each other? Spoiler: they will, but it's not that simple. As if it ever is.

notes: parentlock, misunderstandings. they suck at talking. fluffy sweet and lovely though, covers the events from both their povs, Sherlock has a book of things he loves about John

Move in by Strange_johnlock 3k words

Sherlock wants John and Rosie to move out. At least that's what John thinks.

notes: Sherlock starts looking for new apartments, John's insecurities cause him to fear the worst, sweet

More Than Okay by DissociativeSilence 9k words

Time has passed and Sherlock and John are settling back into their life of solving crimes. In the midst of a case, they both reflect on what they've been through and where they are now, what's survived, what's healing, and what's changed, for better or for worse. Day by day, they're learning more about how to live in the present, and on this day, they might just achieve that.

notes: little parentlock, Sherlock kisses John first, love confessions

'Almost' or 'Home is where the Heart is' by Strange_johnlock 7.9k words

"Where Sherlock enjoyed every second together and counted the minutes to see John again, his (former) best friend kept his distance, even when they sat on a bench together and watched Rosie run around the park. To Sherlock John was home, and John had found a different one."

Sherlock wants John to come home. John wants the space to cure his broken heart.

notes: Sherlock is so desperate to convince John that they should live together again, he starts staying at John's house for a bit.

Our Hands by Salambo06 4k words

Sherlock and John are in a cafe, gathering clues. The only problem is, Sherlock, socially unaware as he is, starts mouthing his observations louder and louder until eventually, he’s spinning around and rattling off at full speed and a fuller volume in the middle of the floor. Everyone is staring, and John is starting to become aware of this. When he realises what is happening, Sherlock hangs his head, his cheekbones colouring a light crimson. So John takes his hand boldly, even though they’ve never done this, even though he isn’t sure he can do this. And soon, Sherlock’s blush takes on a new meaning entirely.

notes: light, warm, full of sweet tension, yearning

#johnlock fanfic #bbc johnlock #johnlock post s4 #post series 4 #getting together

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jeeseth · 2 days ago

Text

more than friends — ryu sarang x f!reader

you’ve grown sick from receiving love notes and having other students continuously asking you out. so you truly needed sarang to help you with these issues. but as time passed, you two began to develop feelings for one another .

tags 💭 — fluff, non-idol au, high school au, best friends to lovers, fake dating, mens dni, grammatical errors !

"sarang please!"

you desperately pleaded sarang while tugging at her arms. apparently, you can’t take it anymore from all the confessions from the other students every second of the day. that’s why you really REALLY need sarang to help you.

"help you with what exactly?" sarang sighs which make you grin widely. you quickly let go of her arms and shake her instead.

"thank you so much! i’ll treat you dinner later" you fake sobbed and hugs sarang. sarang was taken aback by the sudden affection but still gently caressed your back.

"yeah… now tell me already, what am i supposed to do?" sarang asked, you reluctantly pulled away from sarang’s embrace and look at her with a sheepish smile. sarang smiles softly and raises an eyebrow at your grin. she chuckles softly before ruffling your hair affectionately.

"can you pretend to be my girlfriend?" you said bluntly. it was silent for a moment before sarang finally realised what you just said.

"what?! are you serious?" sarang exclaimed, completely taken aback by your bluntness. but soon she immediately calmed down and sighs softly.

she’s not really complaining because you were looking so desperate for this plus, sarang thinks this is good chance to somehow get way closer to you (even though you two are already close). to be honest, now that sarang think about it she quite like the idea of being your fake girlfriend. she can get to know you more and she can definitely hold your hands more often.

"okay fine, so how are we starting this plan of yours—" you immediately shut sarang and link arms with her. basically dragging sarang to the whole school. much to your surprise, some students were already giving you and sarang some space. and also the confused look on their faces make you giggle.

sarang on the other hand is trying her best to keep her expression in check, even though deep down she can feel the butterflies going crazy in her stomach.

throughout this whole ‘fake dating’ session, you and sarang tried your best to actually looks like y’all are dating. and guess what, of course it works! not to mention but, sarang has somewhat changed (?) you’re not sure if you’re tripping or what but you swear on izna upcoming album that she seems like really really into this role.

days, weeks and even months passed by as you two continue this act. you and sarang will always stuck together no matter where you go. like sarang will literally hold your hand everywhere and!!! those little kisses on your head? you couldn’t help but to blush every time sarang did that. she somehow managed to act like she doesn’t care/mind it which, always surprised you.

"are you two still continuing this act?" jeemin asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. sarang smiles and shrugged playfully.

"yeah, some of the students seems like they still won't leave y/n alone. also, it's not that bad actually being y/n's fake girlfriend" sarang chuckles while gently stroking your head that is on her shoulder.

jungeun snickered at the sight she's seeing. no matter how she looks at it, you two really seems like a real couple with all these physical touches. "just date already then."

you chocked on your own saliva as jungeun blurted that out. being in a relationship with sarang doesn't sound so bad... wait what are you thinking.

"we're just friends, nothing more" you mumbled. thankfully you didn't catch the sad and taken aback expression on sarang's face when you said that. it's clear that sarang wouldn't mind this friendship to develop into something more. but if that was your decision, she can't force you.

sarang stayed quiet as you continue talking with jeemin and jungeun. she can't help but to overthink about what you've said earlier. she'd be lying is she said it doesn't hurt her feelings but she try to be the best friend who will still respect your decision no matter what.

as the times passed by, sarang couldn't ignore this feeling that keeps blooming everyday in her chest. she can't keep bottling her feelings any longer. she likes you and that's final.

sarang decided to talk with jungeun. maybe she can help sarang with this feelings she's been having about you.

"jungeun, you don't understand! i love her but... i don't wanna ruin our friendship." sarang groans in frustration as she talk to jungeun about her feelings towards you.

jungeun sighs softly as she watch sarang suffering. jungeun doesn't know what to do either. because earlier, you also talked to jungeun about how you feel towards sarang. now all jungeun thinking about is how to get you two together. she let out a big sigh before holding sarang's shoulder, making her focused.

"just confess."

"easy for you to say! i don't even know how she feels about me and i, i can't afford to lose this precious friendship with her." sarang sighs and pouted as jungeun let go of her shoulders.

"sarang, trust me on this one. she probably feels the same way but is just too scared to confess, just like you." jungeun assured. sarang sighs and listen to jungeun. she feels less stressed now that jungeun had reassured her. sarang nodded and decided to trust jungeun on this one.

it was one random day. you're on your way to go to the toilet when suddenly you bumped into one of your senior. the scary looking one to. you immediately apologize and tried to walk away but a strong grip on your wrist prevent you from doing so.

"apologize properly." he demanded while towering over you. his grip on your wrist is tight but not tight enough to bruise it (hopefully). you flinched slightly at the height difference, he's way taller and definitely bigger than you. also his gaze is frightening.

"i-i'm sorry, please let me go" you stammered nervously trying to break free from his grasp. he scoffed and tightened his grip on your wrist, looking at you with a lustful eyes.

"well, there’s another way to apologise if you’re interested-" his words were cut off when someone (sarang) pulled you away with her. sarang is also scared to fight back so the best option is to run away, with you.

after a few minutes of running, the scary looking senior is finally no longer in sight. you leans against a wall and catch your breath. sarang stands in front of you, enjoying the sight she’s seeing right now. not in a perverted way. without realising it, sarang leans in resting her forehead against yours.

"are you okay? did he hurt you?" sarang whispered softly while gently caressing your cheeks. you shakes your head and leans into sarang’s touch. her touch is heavenly. sarang smiles softly before kissing your forehead affectionately. simple moment like this is what makes you fall with her more and more.

it was a quiet night, and you and sarang were sitting together on a park bench. the stars were shining brightly overhead, casting a soft glow on everything around you. it had been silent for a while, just enjoying each other's company. suddenly, sarang spoke up, her voice soft and hesitant.

"can I tell you something?"

you looked over at her, curious. "of course," you replied, leaning closer to hear her better.

she took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the night sky. "i have something to confess," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "i…i have feelings for you. real feelings."

you was stunned and speechless for a moment, not sure what to say. you had harbored feelings for her too, but hadn't dared to say anything because you wasn't sure if she felt the same.

"you… do?" you stumbled out, still trying to process this newfound revelation. without knowing, a small blush already there on your cheeks. sarang turned to look at me, her eyes filled with emotion.

"yes," she said, her voice firmer now. "i do. i’ve had these feelings for a while now, but I was afraid to say anything because i wasn't sure how you felt, and i didn't know if it would ruin our friendship."

you took hold of her hand, squeezing it gently. "it won't ruin our friendship," you assured her. "i actually have feelings for you too."

her lips curved into a wide, relieved smile. "really?" she asked, her voice hopeful. you nodded, feeling a weight lifted off my shoulders.

"yes," you confirmed. "i've been feeling this way for a while now, but i was too scared to say anything, for similar reasons as yours."

you two sat there in silent for a few moments, holding each other’s hands and simply enjoying the moment. then, sarang spoke up again, her voice now filled with affection and love.

"let’s take this fake dating into something else yeah?"

#sarang #ryu sarang #sarang izna #izna #iland2 #izna x reader #izna x fem reader #ryusarang x femreader #kpop #jeeseth #dew’s 🍈

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