#in which the god convinces himself to help and then tries to save face

[brattyboy]

Set, Camera, Action

Requested - San Choix Male Reader - Word Count: 1,241 words - MDI

Synopsis: Y/n is a renown model and actor, who rose to fame especially after being revealed to some of the media as San's in secret husband. It was another busy day filled with filming and photoshoots until your husband passed by urgently after seeing your latest magazine photos in lingerie clothes. A matter which he quoted needed "urgent intervention".

"Why is it that I have to share your beauty with others when it's mine to keep?"

He whispered softly as he was tracing kisses along your neck. You were already used to his possessiveness and you both knew that it was during those moments that you would express your love the most to each other. Here you were gripping on his arms trying to make too much noise as he devours you slowly pressing you further, your back against the wall.

"S-san... Let's solve this issue at home~ P-please..."

You tried to stop and convince him, too afraid to get caught in such an intimate moment. After all, everyone knew about the dynamics between you two but neither of you could make it public as to preserve your public image.

"This time I'll make sure everyone knows whose name you scream every night. I'll give them a freebie of my own show~"

He said as he tossed you over the couch beside the dresser mirror. You didn't even bother to resist his desires because seeing him all dominant as he was slowly unbuttoning his shirt only fueled your drive.

"God you look just way too good in those~ It would be a shame to tare them apart, but you know I like to solve my business skin-to-skin~"

He whispered softly as he approached your face leaving nearly no distance between you too. Gazing at your lips he couldn't hold back from biting your lower lip before fully attacking them. This only led you to respond as you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer and allowing him to enter deeper inside your mouth, both of your tongue swirling and twirling for dominance.

"Take those off... Let me touch you, San... Please..."

You pleaded with begging siren eyes, and who was he to say no to your requests? He skillfully discarded his shirt, putting on display his well-sculpted figure, from chest, to abs, to arms and shoulders. A piece of art only for you to worship and adore. You lifted your back up as you gently started placing kisses along his chest, while your hand was palming his evident tent. You let your hand slip inside feeling him, veiny, girthy and erect, you just knew you were about to receive a good dicking. That's when a cocky idea came to your mind as you leaned near his ear to whisper.

"Daddy must have been really tired lately~ How about I help you relax a little? All you have to do is sit back and enjoy the show~"

"Fuck... Y/n... You better take responsibility for what's about to happen tonight... If you keep going at it I might not be able to go easy on ya~"

"But who ever said I wanted you to?"

You replied with a smirk as you pushed him back up and kneeled down on your knees between his thighs. God you were looking so fuckable to him right but he knew that good things are always saved for the last. He contemplated your swiftly moves as you unzipped his pants and pulled them down, revealing his erect dick slapping against his abs. You grabbed between your hands kissing the tip gently and showering it with licks. San couldn't hold himself from hissing at your maneuvers.

"Baby quit the teasing or else I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

He threatened as he grabbed your hair, that's when you knew that you were better off gaging over his cock than test his limits. Your mouth engulfed fully with all its might, hitting the back of your throat. His size really did match his name - mountain. You would be lying if you didn't acknowledge the pleasure you felt knowing that you were the only one capable of turning this cocky beast into a needy moaning freak with just your mouth. Your pace gradually increased all thanks to San's forced mouth-fucking, his thrusts slowly became erratic and you could already taste his precum flooding out. That's when he pulled out huffing and looked down at you while he was slightly drenched in his sweat. He leaned in giving your clothed pussy a loud smack before commanding you.

"Face down on the couch and ass up now."

It was finally time for the part you've been waiting for. After all your hole has been aching and itching since the start of this make out session and you both knew what was needed to solve this issue. You followed his commands while deliberately discarding your pants, leaving your pussy on full display. San kneeled down his face right in front of your gaping your hole, holding both butt cheeks between his hands, he leaned forward as he slowly intruded his tongue inside, devouring every taste he would get.

"S-san your tongue is going at it a l-little too strong~"

You moaned out trying to catch your breath as he was eating you out, but let's be real, he couldn't care less. He kept on savoring every lick of your ass as if it was an open feast. Once he felt that your hole has become loose enough, he got up and positioned his dick facing your entrance. You could feel his tip teasing you slowly as he pushed it in and out, allowing you to slowly adjust to what was about to happen.

"Won't you ram it up my ass already?"

You asked unconsciously in a bitchy tone, and it was at that moment that San slammed himself fully into you, causing you to let out disrupted pleas and moans every time he thrusted into you. Despite having done it so many times, his size would never fail to amaze you. The feeling of his dick rubbing against your walls as he used you as his own fleshlight was all you needed to reach ecstasy.

"Fuck y/n your walls are so warm I might melt inside of you~ You like feeling my cock molding your insides as I please my little sex toy, don't you? Now tell me, who's the only one capable of taming that slutty pussy of yours hm? Tell everyone who makes sure to keep you filled up every night~"

He started moaning aloud making sure the neighboring rooms were able to hear him. He was gradually increasing his pace and sinful moans and skin claps filled the room. He eventually grabbed your hands holding them steady in one hand and gripped on your hips with the other. That's when the beast within him awoke as he pounded you mercilessly and at an animalistic pace.

"Only you S-san... You're the only one who can make me feel this g-good~ I'm only made to satisfy daddy's pleasures and n-nobody else's~"

"Fuck yeah bitch~ Good thing you know where you stand around here~"

You two went on about it until you felt your climax piling up which lead you to spurt out all of the stored cum you had - trust me you went overboard with that. Which also led you to unintentionally clench too hard on San's cock, pushing to cum and fill you up on the spot. Both of you eventually fell forward drenched in cum and sweat as you caught your breaths and drifted away, your arms surrounding each other's bodies. Let's just say that after this, nobody even bother to check up on you having known the show that was rolling inside.

[crownremonique]

Escape Call

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Waitress!reader

Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: When a man asks you for help while working, you decide to make a call that might just end up changing your life.

The restaurant was fairly quiet as you neared the end of your shift. It had been a long one, draining you to your core, but anything that waited for you back home wasn't the definition of relaxing in any way. Your tiring days of dealing with snobby customers usually ended in studying for the many mock exams of med school.

The small bell hanging atop the entrance rang, signaling the arrival of a new set of customers, which you hoped would be the last for the day. It was the man who caught your attention first, dressed impeccably in a suit and tie. He had an expression on his face that you couldn't quite place, but it definitely wasn't happiness. A woman entered behind him and followed him to the table he was seating himself at. Unlike the man, she seemed to be quite happy about being at the restaurant.

Convincing yourself that this would be the last table you would wait for, you walked over to them with a pair of menus and greeted the pair with a warm smile.

“Hey guys, what can I get started for you today?”

“I'll just have a water, thanks.” The man said while flipping his menu closed, never bothering to read any of the items on it.

“Are you sure honey? You're not gonna order anything else?” Not giving him a chance to respond, she continued speaking “Well, I'm gonna get something low carb, maybe something like a salad? Gotta watch my weight, y’know..” She trailed off, eyeing you top to bottom.

You felt appalled by her snide comment, but chose not to offer her anything but a tight lipped smile. You left the table to give the cook her order and started working on his glass of water, silently observing the pair sitting across.

The woman was talking expressively while the man just seemed bored. He looked tired, resting his chin on his palm, barely looking at the rambling woman.

You heard a ding from the kitchen, and placed their orders on a plate, walking over to them. You noticed the man writing something on a tissue and folding it up. You were just about to turn around after serving them when you heard a high pitched cry.

“What is this? There's peanuts in this! I can't eat this! I'm allergic” She yelled at you, eyes wide like you had purposely tried to poison her.

“Ma'am I am so incredibly sorry, I didn't know you were allergic-” You couldn't finish your sentence, interrupted by her bowl of salad smashing the ground. You dropped down quickly to collect the shattered porcelain, glancing at the man. He looked horrified, sending an apologetic glance towards you.

After cleaning up and getting the karen a new salad, you hung out by the counter, trying to subtly observe the pair. You saw the man get up from his seat, saying something about using the men’s room, and walk over towards you. He handed you the folded tissue paper discreetly and walked past you to the restroom. You unravelled the note and saw a phone number:

Save me, Please.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

You watched as he walked back to the table and sat down. You knew exactly what he wanted you to do, He needed an escape call. You fished your phone out of your pockets and dialed the number, watching his phone vibrate on the table. He picked it up, and you waited silently on the other line.

“Hello? Yes this is him…. Mhm……What? Oh my god, I’ll be right there!”

He got up hastily, collecting his wallet and dropping a few bills down to cover the tab, and quickly apologised to the woman before rushing out of the restaurant.

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

You finished clearing the last of the tables and got your bag to head home. Today had been an eventful day, and the stranger you had seen for no more than an hour, was running on your mind since he left. You bid farewell to the cook and the guy at the register and stepped out into the cool night.

You felt a chill run down your spine, though you weren't sure if it was from the cold or because of the figure leaning against the alley in the dark. You took a step back but heard a familiar voice that made you stop.

“I was wondering when you would be off your shift.” The man spoke, coming into view.

“Escape call.” You said, letting him know that you recognised him.

“Yeah…I was desperate. Never going on a second date with her again.” He concluded.

“Second date? I thought she was your girlfriend. Heard her call you honey so i assumed..” You said as you started to walk alongside him.

“Oh no, just a blind date my colleagues set me up with. I'm Tim by the way. Could I get the name of my rescuer?” He held out his hand, looking at you expectantly. You offered him your name and shook his hand, relishing the softness of his palm.

He repeated your name wistfully, as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. You felt your cheeks redden, even if it was only your name he had said. You could only wish your house was farther away.

You both walked the entire way to your house, conversation flowing easily between you two. You learned that he was a cop, which made sense for no apparent reason. His personality was strong and graceful, drawing you in closer than you ever imagined was possible. You could have talked to him forever if you could, but all good things had to come to an end, just like your walk.

You eventually reached your doorstep and slid your key into the keyhole, careful not to wake up your roommate. you pushed open the door, turning back to face Tim. His eyes refused to leave yours, twinkling with a feeling that you could only describe as longing. Your mouth felt dry as you waited for him to say something. He placed his hand on the door, keeping it open.

“Is there anything I can do to repay you? for being my saviour today?” He asked, eyes darting between your eyes and lips.

You felt a smile spread across your face. Maybe you wouldn't have to say goodbye after all.

✨️

[multifariousqueer]

Hello girl! how are you? doing well?

Can I request a E 42 yandere miles X reader? Am yes, E 42 reader is dead, omg how original XD

But the E 42 reader had this "church girl" or "flower girl" innocent type persona. And when E 1610 reader arrived with miles, she is a loud, cusses out a lot and has a hammer with her at all times.

E 42 miles sees her and while stunned to see such drastic personality change, he still sees his beloved in her and wants to keep her in his world and in his life? Add flashbacks if ya like! you can change it if you want! whatever makes it be awesome! luv you! <3

Hey, love!! I can totally do this

Suerte- Miles G x Reader

A/n: I hope y’all enjoy this!!

Warnings: strong language, angst, suggestiveness, reader being a spider person, descriptions of blood and yandere behavior, kidnapping, lmk if I missed anymore

You were falling off of a building, it seemed your screams would never end as you looked up into the endless sky waiting for someone, anyone to save you. Miles watched as he tried to run and save you but by then it was too late, the sound of your skull hitting the pavement and the crimson blood that flowed from your nose was enough to indicate that you were gone and there was no saving you. Miles cradled your softer skull as the police and ambulance arrived.

Suddenly, Miles woke up in a cold sweat. It was Sunday now, and he had to get ready for church the only reason he was going was because you convinced him too

You managed to convince Miles to do just about anything; he just couldn’t say no to your adorable face and he hated disappointing you. You two seemed like an odd couple at first, with Miles being tough, cold and closed off whereas you were bright, happy, innocent and it seemed like you could do no wrong. You went to church every Sunday, you prayed all the time, you helped everyone and everything and Miles fell for your soft innocence and your warmth. He fell for your simplicity, your poise, your patience and how you felt like a piece of heaven.

The day he lost you was the day he lost himself. Miles was never the same after you left; he closed himself off completely and adopted the Prowler moniker. He felt like he failed you and that you would be so dissapointed if you saw him now. Miles would have flashbacks to you telling him how much you loved him and how you would always love him in every universe, so he decided to pray and beg God for you back and eventually, he got that.

“MILES WHERE THE FLYING FUCK ARE WE??” you shouted

“I’M TRYING TO FIGURE THAT OUT, Y/N” Miles shouted back

You and your Miles were best friends since you both came to Visions. He found out you had powers the same as him and you two clicked immediately. It seemed you two were fated to be together; same music taste, fashion choices and morals its just you were a bit more harsh than him

“I think we’re home?” Miles questioned

“I don’t remember Brooklyn looking this shitty” you said

“It’s just dark, come on, we can go to my house. My mom loves you” you said

Mrs. Morales loved you because not only were you quick on your feet, you also made Miles happy and you made a great first impression. She thought you were exactly like Miles, just more abrasive and she thought you were sweet.

You went to Miles room and it looked different, almost more grown. Your spider-sense went off and just as you went to tell Miles, Rio was there and greeting him. She looked at you like she had seen a ghost, tears spilling from her...green eyes??

“Y/n?” she whispered

“Yeah? Hi Mrs. Morales” you went, going to give her a hug which she reciprocated just more eagerly

“Oh Mija, I thought you were dead. Gracias Dios, you answered my prayers” she said, sobbing and looking up at the sky

Her and Miles had a conversation and you both revealed your identities in which she was indifferent about. Suddenly, the door opened to reveal an Uncle Aaron.

He saw you and his eyes went wide. He stalked closer to you before grabbing your shoulders and shaking his head

“Is it really you, y/n?” he said

“uhh yeah last time I checked” you chuckled, grabbing your body as a joke

“Where did you go? How are you here?” he asked in disbelief

“Well interesting story actually, we used something called our legs and walked here” you joked, usually Aaron could appreciate your humor because it was one of the things he told Miles before he died

“Miles, you won’t find another girl like her. Girls like y/n don’t come around like that so I’d advise you to keep her"

“Got it” Miles would say

It was like you were looking into a portal of dead people, your entire body clenched when his gaze suddenly went cold.

He lead Miles and you to the roof when suddenly, you felt a strong stinging in your neck and just as you were about to hit the floor, a strong pair of arms grabbed you and you heard voices

“She’s not your, y/n man. She’s meaner”

“I don’t care"

You awoke with a splitting headache on a couch. Your limbs were handcuffed together and it was dark; your eyes immediately went to search for your Miles when you saw him tied to a bag

“He won’t be up for a bit, hes out cold. Maybe we can keep him that way” a voice said

“He’s not the only one who’s gonna be out cold. Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” you snapped

“Hm. So hostile, my Y/n would never speak like that” a man said approaching you

“Dawg are you smoking crack? Speed? Bath Salts? Because you gotta be fucked up if you think-“ you started

“la muchacha sucia(dirty girl), I should’ve put that gag on you while you were out” he said, taking off his mask to reveal your boyfriend just more gaunt

“Listen here you Rick and Morty knockoff, if you try that, I will bite your finger off, comprende?” you said

“Si. Eres muy bonita pero tu boca es tan asquerosa. I can tell you aren’t from here” he smirked

“Just so you know, just because you called me pretty doesn’t mean I won’t crush your nuts the second I get out of these chains. Listen, your knockoff prowler suit doesn’t scare me and neither do these chains, I could break out right now but I’m intrigued” you said

You heard groaning and saw your Miles move

“MILES” you screamed into the other Miles’ ear

“Y/N. GET AWAY FROM HER” your Miles shouted

The other Miles ignored him but he grabbed your throat and forced you to look up at him

“It’s not a knockoff mami and unless you want to find out just how powerful this suit can be, I suggest you pipe down. It’s gonna take a bit of work, maybe force” he tightened his grip at force, causing your eyes to water and your tongue to come out

“But I think I can make it work. You may not be exactly like her, but you’ll be close enough” Miles said, lowly

If the circumstances weren’t what they were, Miles would’ve found your position hot, you were tied up, tongue hanging out a bit and your eyes looked so pretty; in his mind, you were giving him the “fuck me” eyes but in reality, you were using this as a way to escape

The idea of playing along until he got his wish came to mind but you realized this was deeper than that, he wanted you in every form and if it wasn’t you, what’s to stop him from taking another version of you that may accidentally come by.

“What happened, mami? You had so much to say, say it.” Miles taunted, hand still flush against your throat

“Yeah its kinda hard when you’re choking the life outta me” you said

He took his hand off your throat and you coughed.

“Dude just leave her alone, okay? You can have me, kill me just please let her go” your Miles said, his voice faltering at the end

“Oh but where’s the fun in that? Plus cabron, I don’t want you at all, its not about you. It’s about her and her making a promise

“What promise did I make?” you asked

Miles got a flashback of you laying next to him, playing with his braids and giggling

“I’ll love you in every universe, Miles Morales” you said sweetly

Miles teared up and explained this to you

“Okay well bud, I’m not her and in a way, I do love you in every universe, I love my Miles but” you said before he slammed his fist next to you, causing you to yelp

“I am your Miles, mi amor. At least, I will be. I’m never letting you go again” he said close to your face, hovering above your lips before getting up and striding over to your Miles

[signanothername]

I know next to nothing about Delta Sans lol... what are some of his main traits and characteristics? /nf

I GET TO RAMBLE ABOUT DELTA LETS GOOOOO

Funny enough, Delta’s canon material isn’t very vast, considering most his canon story is animated, so you can imagine how long it takes to animate and how few animations there are, despite that i just can’t help but love this bitch

Let’s start with basics since you don’t know much, you might see Delta’s Au with 3 names: Ultratale, Vitaltale, and Delta’s tale, which are all canon as they’re all used by Delta’s creator Animated Zorox

Ultratale is the Au’s series old name when it was first animated (and is now cancelled), Vitaltale is the Au’s current name which refers to the new repooted series, Delta’s tale use is honestly unclear for me, but i like to believe it’s more of a general name for the Au

Kay so with that out of the way, Delta is a sans that fused with the human soul of bravery, that’s why he has his signature orange gloves, (and Delta can talk and communicate with the bravery soul inside his head)

Delta is from a Genocide timeline and is the only survivor, so after he defeats Chara (who’s called “Omega Chara” in the Au) Delta takes it upon himself to become a protector of Aus (imagine it as his coping mechanism for losing his own Au fused with Bravery’s sense of protection) but he’s not a protector in the same sense that is Ink, Delta travels from Au to Au pretty much looking for a fight, looking to see if the Au he’s in is in trouble and fighting whoever causes it to save it from the same fate his own Au faced

So he’s kind, brave, righteous and honest… too honest chchchch

But he’s also egotistical, super hot headed, and can easily rage, and despite deeming himself a protector, he’s only a protector to those who need protection, so the poor bitches who threaten the Au? Yeah Delta isn’t above tainting his hands with someone else’s blood (ma boi is passionate about murdering fr fr) in his defense tho he tries listening and talking to them and convincing them (for roughly 10 seconds) if it doesn’t work then he goes for the kill

Look at him telling Cross he’ll kill him (god I love him)

But he’s also willing to put himself in danger if it meant protecting someone else (basically putting the life of others above his own)

What’s also fun is the fact Delta can easily give up like a normal Sans would, It’s Bravery that keeps him going

But what I also really love is his way of fighting/using his powers, Delta tends to use his own blaster’s jaws as a super speed jet pack, and his fighting style tends to mostly be up close and personal, like this bitch will break bones with his bare hands, and believe me, this bitch sure got stamina cause DAMN

He can even fully fuse with Bravery, like he becomes a glowing orange lamp hcchchchch

he’s a bit reckless but still smart to know when to stay a safe distance or change tactics

One of my fave things is him using his gloves as armored shoes cause why the fuck not y’know?

Delta is also semi canonically friends with Color and Epic (semi-canon as in the creators of these three drew them together as the “Epic Sanses Trio” but are not necessarily part of their own respective timeline’s stories chchhcch) but it’s fully canon in my heart <3333

If you’d like to see the actual canon content for Delta, I recommend checking this doc made by @howlsofbloodhounds they’ve done an amazing job at collecting as much as they can <3

[steddio]

Eddie can’t listen to music anymore. God knows he wants to, would give anything to lose himself in a particularly intense guitar riff, or bang on the steering wheel of his van like it’s a drum kit, or just generally annoy those in his vicinity by refusing to turn down “that noise” (as his neighbors call it). Music was his life, his sanctuary, his whole reason for being on this stupid, fucked up planet.

But now, music makes him jumpy, panicky. Hands clenched into fists, the back of his neck prickling. He can’t help but look for the threat, for the reason music is being played. Eddie finds himself sitting in silence now, when before he couldn’t stand it. His bedroom eerily quiet, cassettes shoved in a shoebox, stereo covered with an old t-shirt. He drives with the windows down, radio off, listening only to the mundane sounds of small town Indiana.

He can’t even play guitar. Three days after he woke up covered in bandages, head aching, Wayne had brought Eddie his sweetheart, mumbling something about not wanting Eddie to be bored in the hospital. Eddie had tried to play, he really had. But just touching the strings sent him back into that life-or-death mindset, and suddenly his mouth felt like it was filled with blood and he couldn’t breathe, and the nurse had to rush in and help him release his death grip on the guitar, take deep breaths, count to ten.

After, he threw the provided pamphlets about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in the trash and tried to convince himself he didn’t really need to play guitar anymore. As Dustin is so fond of reminding him, he already lived the most metal moment of all time, embodied it, played for the lives of everyone he loves, for Chrissy’s death, for Hawkins’s survival. His sweetheart helped save the world, and now it’s enough that she’s only decoration in their new government payout trailer. It has to be enough, because he can barely look at her, can’t touch her without shaking, without almost throwing up.

His friends must notice. They must, because he’s been avoiding band practice, hasn’t scheduled any D&D sessions, staying far away from everything that used to bring him joy because it doesn’t. Not anymore. And sometimes he wishes they would say something, that anyone would acknowledge this 180 degree shift in Eddie’s entire being. But Jeff and Gareth are giving him space, letting him heal. And the kids are kids, dealing with their own trauma and shit. So it’s just Eddie and the silence.

—

Eddie is listlessly staring at his bedroom wall, actively trying to think about nothing, when he hears a car horn honking. He ignores it, sure that it’s irrelevant to him. The horn honks again. Then a third, fourth, fifth time, followed by, “Munson, dude, I know you’re in there!”

And what the fuck. Because Eddie knows that voice, and there’s absolutely no reason for Steve Harrington of all people to be outside his trailer. They’re not even friends! They’re just… trauma bonded. Or whatever. Maybe Eddie should have read those pamphlets.

He peeks his head out the window to see Steve shading his eyes with one hand, the other on his hip. Eddie waggles his fingers in a hesitant wave, even more surprised when Steve’s face breaks out into a grin.

“There you are, buddy! Come on, let’s go!”

Eddie begrudgingly grabs his jacket, swinging it on as he slams the door of the trailer behind him.

“Um, dude, what’s up?”

Steve only waggles his eyebrows in response. “You’ll see, but c’mon, we’re running late.”

Eddie slides into the front seat of Steve’s BMW, eyes glancing to the radio, which is blasting some Top 40 station that not only sounds like nails on a chalkboard but is already making Eddie uneasy. Steve hops in the drivers seat and, as if he can read Eddie’s mind, turns the radio off before pulling out of the trailer park.

The ride is quiet, but comfortable. Steve has the windows down, it’s a breezy summer day, and Eddie feels something underneath the listlessness that has infiltrated his brain like cobwebs. Anticipation, maybe even excitement.

Steve pulls into the Wheelers’ driveway, and Eddie follows him inside the house, down to the basement, where Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will have set up their D&D table, Will at the head wearing… is that a wizard hat?

“Welcome back from banishment, Eddie!” Dustin shouts as soon as he sees him, smiling widely. And Eddie can’t help but smile back. Because these are his kids, and he missed them, and he really did feel banished even if it was somewhat self-imposed.

Four hours later, after part one of a thrilling campaign led by Will (who really is a promising DM, Eddie has to admit), he no longer feels like that. He’s glowing, breathless, warm. The feeling buoys him through the car ride home, Steve having left and then returned to drive Eddie back. And if that good feeling allows Eddie to glance a little too long at Steve’s hair blowing in the wind, his left hand loosely resting on the steering wheel and his right on his thigh, then that’s Eddie’s business and no one else’s.

They fall into a routine. Steve picks Eddie up, drives him to the Wheelers’ house for an afternoon of D&D, and drives him home. Eddie tries not to be too obvious in his appreciation of Steve in the summer sun but he’s just a man, okay, and Steve didn’t earn his reputation for nothing.

Every time, Eddie offers to drive himself, but Steve just laughs, shakes his head. “Get in the car, Munson.”

And every time Eddie does, Steve turns the radio off. Doesn’t say anything, doesn’t acknowledge it, but their car rides are blissfully quiet. Light and easy in a way that silences aren’t when he’s alone.

—

It’s pouring rain one afternoon, rattling the roof of the trailer. Eddie is contemplating whether he can get away with smoking out his bedroom window when he hears a familiar car horn. As he approaches the car, Eddie hears what can’t be, but what is unmistakably the sound of Steve… singing? Softly, almost under his breath, Steve is singing along to the radio. He cuts off when he sees Eddie, offering a half wave and a lopsided grin. As Eddie slides into the front seat, Steve turns the radio off.

“Hey why do you do that, man?” The question slips out before Eddie can stop himself.

“Do what?” Steve looks confused.

“Turn the radio off. When I get in the car.” Now that he’s asked, Eddie finds that he needs to know. Why of all possible people, it’s Steve who’s been the most accommodating.

Steve shrugs, puts the car into drive, turns onto the main road before answering. “It bothers you,” he says simply.

Eddie must look confused when Steve glances over because he continues. “I never see you listen to music anymore. I figured it must bother you. And hey man, if anyone understands fucked up reactions it’s me. I can’t hear fireworks or see Christmas lights anymore.”

Eddie barely manages to nod his thanks, to present a facade of normalcy while his mind is racing a million miles an hour. He knows that Steve has been through some shit, clearly he had even before Eddie walked headfirst into whatever the fuck is going on in Hawkins. But he never expected Steve to be so… observant. Not of him at least.

The D&D session takes his mind off the mortifying knowledge that Steve is paying attention to him. They’re approaching Will’s grand finale, and Eddie is caught off guard by how normal it feels. To be excited about a campaign, to mess around with the kids. To laugh, unironically.

The ride home is tenser than usual but as they pull into the trailer park, Eddie musters the courage to reach out. To touch Steve’s arm and mumble a quiet but sincere “thank you.” He doesn’t stay to see if Steve responds, but the pads of his fingers burn where they met Steve’s bare forearm, and he falls asleep that night with the ghost of a pop song in his head.

—

A week later, Eddie finds himself in the backseat of Steve’s car, his usual shotgun seat occupied by Robin. In situations like these, it’s hard not to feel left out, like a third wheel. Steve and Robin orbit around each other in a way that Eddie never has with anyone. But their jubilance is addictive and Eddie can’t help but be drawn in. A lone planet in their binary star system.

They’re telling some inside joke, something about Muppets, and Steve is glowing in the way he only ever does with Robin or Dustin, beaming like a carefree teenager instead of gazing sadly out of eyes that look too old for his face. Eddie is breathless, finds himself laughing along, eyes glued to Steve’s mouth (his smile, not his lips, Eddie lies to himself). Robin launches into song and there’s a moment when Steve joins in, and it’s ridiculous but possibly the most glorious thing Eddie has ever heard because it’s music. It’s music and it makes him feel safe.

After a blissful few seconds, Steve cuts off, as if catching himself, turns to meet Eddie’s eyes, face halfway between joy and panic. Robin doesn’t seem to notice, and Steve has one hand up as if to stop her before Eddie shakes his head slowly, starts to smile. Steve’s face begins to relax again, one eyebrow raising in question.

“Don’t stop,” Eddie mouths.

Steve turns back to Robin, picking up the thread of their foolish imitation. And maybe Eddie is still lying to himself because is this really music? But he thinks it might be the most beautiful sound regardless.

They drop Robin off at home and Eddie climbs up to the front seat, winking at Steve’s feigned outrage about “the leather, dude!” Steve backs out of Robin’s driveway, gets halfway down the block before he pulls over.

“Hey I’m sorry about earlier,” he starts softly. “I got carried away. I hope—. Well. I hope you’re okay, man. I know music bothers you.”

Eddie feels a blush rising at this ridiculous, lovely man and his concern. Steve is looking at Eddie, brow furrowed, assessing every minute detail of his face as if searching for evidence of injury. Eddie wants to reach out and smooth it with a touch, to make Steve laugh again in that carefree way. He settles for reaching out in a different way, laying a piece of himself bare.

“It doesn’t. Bother me, that is. Not when it’s you.”

The silence that follows is expectant, Steve’s expression hard to read. They’ve been on the precipice of something for weeks now, and Eddie has stepped off the ledge. But as always, Steve is there to catch him. His grin is lopsided, eyes warm, as he sings softly,

“But I know, uh-huh, that you're sad. And I know I'll make you happy with the one thing that you never had, baby I'm your man.”

And Eddie has half a second to think Wham!? Really? before they’re kissing. They’re kissing in the front seat of Steve’s car and Eddie has the sudden, embarrassing, wondrous urge to turn the radio on. So he does.

[maoam]

Naruto has a good heart

So many people misunderstand Naruto's character. Let's look at some of the absurd claims;

"Naruto only wanted his face on the mountain, he wants people to worship him, his goal is selfish"

When Naruto made this goal for himself, he was younger than 12. As an orphan child who is ostracized from society, this was his way of trying to become liked, so he could become part of the society. Aside from hermits, most humans desire connections with other humans. It's normal. And Naruto being a child sees that the Hokage is someone who people approve, and becoming Hokage would be a sure way to have such connections. It makes sense for a child to rationalize it this way. People completely forget the context, many other characters also desired connections such as Haku, Kimimaro, Gaara etc. It's a common theme in the manga. Kishimoto wrote neglected children very believably. So to write this off as "Naruto just wants people to worship him like he's God, what a narcissist" is dishonest and poor reading comprehension.

Not to mention, Naruto's mentality changed pretty fast, and he wanted to become someone who saves and protects people, someone people could rely on.

Already in the first arc he had that desire to help others. He's always been a good boy. Eventhough Naruto was pissed off at Inari's comments and wanted to tell him off, he realized there's a deeper reason for Inari's cynicism. So he decided to help him instead of starting a fight.

In Part 2, Naruto's responsibilities grow massively, especially after the Pain arc. In the end, everyone ends up putting all the burdens on Naruto's shoulders. Everyone expects Naruto to protect them and basically do all the impossible things.

His goal to become a Hokage started out as a need for acknowledgement, yes. But his transformed drive to become Hokage and bear all the responsibility in Part 2 came from his need to fulfill everyone's expectations for him and also him thinking he owes to the people who support him.

It's not that Naruto never had any resentment for how everyone treated him. He just repressed it.

And in the end, he put it all aside, in order to become the hero for everyone. No I don't think it's entirely healthy. But it's not selfish that's for sure.

"Naruto is shallow, selfish etc."

Naruto was always grateful for the connections he was able to make and treasured them heavily. His relationship with Gaara gives even more insight to that.

Naruto acknowledges Gaara was alone for longer than him. How can you call him a narcissist? Naruto is shown to be upset at the fact Gaara was viewed as an undesirable and a tool.

He always had genuine empathy and care for others. To claim otherwise is just bizarre. He blames himself too a lot of times. Then there's his relationship with Sasuke.

Unlike certain Naruto stans who hate Sasuke, Naruto himself has enough empathy and humility to consider he could have ended up the same as Sasuke, if some things would have been slightly different.

A lot of people also complain about the way Naruto behaved in Vote1, eventhough that was Kishimoto's plan, Naruto was supposed to not understand Sasuke fully at that point (and still his behavior was understandable, considering Orochimaru is a predator who wanted to wear Sasuke's skin). Naruto himself acknowledges he didn't. Naruto always tried to use his own experiences to understand the world and others better.

"Naruto just projects onto people because he wants to talk about himself"

Actually no. Pain and Obito both projected onto him first, and told him they were similar, which is also why Obito wanted to convince Naruto to join him. Naruto responding to them and trying to show he understands them to a degree is not a crime. It's basic empathy. I don't think I will even bother explaining it further than this.

My point is, Naruto is a good boy/man. There's no need to twist him into a narcissistic sociopath just because you don't personally like him.

[yey56]

HOME

Thorin Oakshield x Modern reader. (Implied to be Spanish)

You've been 10 years in middle earth, at first you were confused and lost, the language everyone talked was what you knew as English or as they referred to, common tongue. Even though you didn't knew what happened and where were you, you tried to adapt as quickly as possible. You cut your hair short pretending to be a young boy and enlisted yourself in a monastery as an scribe.

One day, after running away from that monastery you met Gandalf, after one week of traveling together (because he insisted that it was not save for a young boy to wander alone) you confessed to him your situation and that you were actually {gender}

He took you to Rivendell and after a lot of prove Gandalf improvising and convincing, you proved your situation to the elves who decided to let you stay. You read and studied magic and became really eager to learn more and more, you hunger for knowledge only growing each day; after years of trying you finally managed to perform magic even though you were human.

You became a good sorcerer, exploring the world to find old scriptures, runes and other magical things.

After 12 years in middle earth and already settled in a place you could call home; out of the blue you received a visit from Gandalf who wanted you to join with him as extra magic assistance to some dwarfs quest to regain their home, at the start things were tense you were only talking to Gandalf, Bilbo and occasionally the Durin brothers, but after multiple near death experiences you were able to make good friends with most of the group.

Of course some dwarfs were slower to warm up to you, like Dwalin, who unlike his brother Balin (God bless his soul) took a long time, but nonetheless you established a mutual respect with each other that was near friendship, and of course Thorin. What is there to say about him? You guys do not get along, well sometimes you do but that's the exception not the norm.

You're both very demanding and authoritative so of course whenever he order something and you do not agree with it, the dwarfs and Bilbo already expect a war between you two.

You don't like how he expects you and Bilbo to just agree blindly with everything insult he throws your way and he doesn't like how you are always questioning him like a freaking philosopher.

Whenever the company wasn't sure what the right direction was:"are you sure we're heading east?"

Every time he insulted you and Bilbo: "you think you are oh so high and mighty but you got lost more than once heading to Bilbo's home."

When all of you got lost AGAIN: "Don't blame me, if you were able to get lost in the shire what should I expect?"-yeah, you LOVED to remind him of his lack of sense of direction.

Oh and his favourite: "quit you're grumpy ass, you undermine the morale" THE AUDACITY!

No one ever has had the courage to talk that way to him, and every time you opened you mouth to answer him everything he received was sass.

He didn't even comprehend why would you help them, neither you or the hobbit had nothing to do with Erebor and yet here you were, helping them to regain they're home.

And of course asking you was not an option since your conversations were based on mutual roasting.

But he wasn't blind either, even though you were known for being always joking and with a really cheerful behaviour he had observed you while you were on watch or when you were riding your horse.

I'm those specific moments you seem to space out for a while and your face turned into a melancholic gaze, almost longing. You seem to be remembering something that brings you pain.

Like tonight for example. You were on watch with him since you both tended to sleep less, it wasn't uncommon for you to not talk during these watches. But this time Thorin was trying to mentally prepare himself to ask you the question which answer that had him so impatient.

Again you were with that relaxed yet perturbed face, looking at the fire as if it had all of the answers in the world.

Finally he managed to murmur something: "(y/n), why are you helping us retake Erebor. What do you seek to find in this quest"- the question came more harshly than he intended.

This was the first time he referred to you by your name, usually he would talk to you without saying your name or referring to you as human or woman. You knew this was a serious question and not just another way to start a fight.

You looked away from the fire and directed your eyes towards his blue ones. You stayed like that for a moment until you finally responded

(Y/n): Thorin, you know that I am not from. This world right?- he looked at you and nodded- well, I cannot go back home, I'm trapped here.- you voice trembled a little, not enough for it to be noticeable- probably forever.

Another silence was formed, he though he had make you uncomfortable and was going to apologise, but you continued talking.

(y/n): I don't have a chance to go back home, but you do. All of you do, you have a chance- (a low one)- you mumbled.- but a chance after all.

Thorin: (y/n)- he started not knowing how to react to that, he knew the feeling very well, to crave a home. Before he could continue you interrupted him.

(y/n):that's the reason I want to help you Thorin, I want to help you achieve what I cannot- you said, now the tremble of your voice being noticeable, you were smiling calmly at him but in your eyes there was a deep hurt, a pain he could identify in himself.

He then noticed that you were in similar situations, you've mentioned before how you appeared here unwillingly and how you didn't know your way back, now he new there was no way back for you.

That was the root of that glance, all of that pain. In your world you probably had friends, family; maybe the reason of your lack of sleep was because you dreamed about you homeland and yet you couldn't reach it. Just like him.

Before he could try to apologise or offer words of confort you had already went to your bedroll.

Now he understood, you were just as homeless as they were, and even though you were still willing to help others who were in a situation like yours.

After that night in which you opened to him he started to be a little more soft with you. Hell he even started to make small chat with you. At first there just things about your time in middle earth: places you visited, the experiences you had, in what you has worked all this time, what made you so attracted to magic. And of course you also question him about his life

You started to enjoy a lot more his company and also you started changing your opinion on him, now he was only half an asshole :)

But as time passed you conversations started to get a little more personal, he started to get curious about your home.

The improvement of your relationship with the leader of the company didn't go unnoticed. Fili and Kili were the first to notice, you both changed from fighting like sworn enemies to chatting like old friends. Also Balin, who was very observant, noticed how Thorin's gaze was softer whenever he talked to you, relaxed even.

One night he asked you a question about your world when all of you were eating, this obviously caught the attention of the others who stared bombarding you with questions about it. Your culture, gastronomy, customs, language, religion...

You spend all that night telling them about you world and most specific, your country.

You teach them simple words and expressions like:

Joder, hola, madre mía, adiós, amigo, montaña, flauta ...

Dwalin was the one who started implementing your insults to his vocabulary, and his brother, Balin sometimes greeted you in your native tongue.

Since you had shared so much about your culture with them, the dwarfs and the hobbit also started expressing more about their own cultures. Little words un Kuzdul were teached to you and Bilbo by Balin and Ori.

Bofur Kili and Fili teached you about some songs they liked to sing.

Thorin looked at the scene with happiness in his eyes, you were besides Ori, he was the one that got most involved with your language and was determined to learn it. His nephew's and Bilbo were beside you, hearing everything you were explaining about grammar.

He felt his heart warming, your melancholic glances were less and less each day and his ability to takes his eyes off you was weaker each passing day.

That night the both of you had to stay on watch again, the difference was that, unlike 6 moths ago the atmosphere was no longer tense. You had share a lot of yourself with him, the longing for your family, for the landscapes of your city for the feeling of a home. And he had reciprocated your trust with his own.

He got lost in your concentrated face as you draw some simple runes to show him how they worked, it was there when he realised he loved you, he loved your dedication, he loved you strengt, he loves your sarcastic comments, your witty tongue and overall you will power.

He could not replace your home but he wished that once he Erebor was retaken he could offer you one, with him in the mountain.

[gxdsfavgal]

I don’t really like you

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Agro!reader

Warning: angst, mentions of death, arguments, teasing, making out, early start of smut, almost getting caught, there will be a part 2 (smut), very scrambled writing, not edited

A/N: reader has agrokinesis which is the power to control/manipulate plants/earth stuff lol… also pls comment if you want to be tagged in part 2

Update: part 2 here!

-

-

Wednesday is finally enrolled at Nevermore after years of trying to convince her. I’ve known her since we were little, we had our own little trio whenever our parents would have dinners. It was always Wednesday, Xavier, and I, and occasionally Pugsley.

Our parents all met at Nevermore, all of them part of the Nightshades. Of course, we had to follow in their footsteps.

The news spread fast around campus, talking about what she did at her other schools. I saw her with Enid while having a tour of the school.

“Wednesday!” I hollered from the door I was leaning against.

She quickly turned around and with a confused and pale face, her eyes widened.

I walked up to her with open arms, I knew she wouldn’t give into the hug but it was worth a try.

“Y/n.” she sent a quickly smirk as we nodded to each other.

“You two know each other?” Enid cocked her head.

“Since diapers.” Wednesday spoke with her monotone voice as the three of us walked around the courtyard.

“Yeah Wednesday, Xavier, and I.” I muttered out.

“Wait. You mean to tell me that you and Xavier used to be friends?” Enid threw her hands in the air as she spoke loud.

“Enid, shut up.” I was quick to cover her mouth with my hand. I looked around the courtyard to see if anyone heard, and of course Xavier was looking right as us.

“You aren’t friends with Xavier anymore?” Wednesday asked.

“They’re always argu-”3

“Enid. I don't want to talk about it. It was nice seeing you Wednesday.” I sent her and Enid a small smile before walking away.

-

It’s been a few days since Wednesday arrived, she’s always getting in trouble. Though, last night she decided to do her own little tour of the school.

“What did you tell Wednesday?” Xavier stopped me while I was on my way to my dorm.

“That she can sneak into the kitchen pantry and steal snacks?” I questioned, trying to swerve away from him to get to my room.

He followed behind me heading up to the girls corridors.

“What? No. You told her about what happened that night.” his big eyes showed that he wasn’t messing around.

“I literally didn’t tell her anything, I erased that night from my mind.” I pointed to my temple. “Probably should’ve asked one of the sirens to make me forget.”

I shoved past him and continued walking down the long hallway to my room, his heavy steps close behind mine.

Once I opened my door, I tried to close it as fast as possible but he slid through.

“God can you leave me alone?” I groaned loudly, throwing my book bag onto my bed.

“How does she know about the Nightshade library and what happened that night?” he asked towering over me.

“Xavier, I don’t fucking know how she knows!” I threw my hands in the air in annoyance. “Why do you care about her knowing?”

“Fuck. I don’t care about her knowing, it’s about the elder Nightshades knowing! About our families knowing!” he was close to be now, his neck turning red from his anger.

“You did this to yourself. I told all of you he didn’t seem like himself, you knew since you were his roommate. I told you guys not to kick him out, plus you let them embarrass me. I haven’t even told my family that i’m not a Nightshade anymore.”

“You got yourself kicked out, you thought you could help Rowan with your plants. He almost killed that kid.” he waved his hand around signaling all my plants.

“I saved that normie with my plants, don’t forget that. If it wasn’t for me, we’d all be wanted by the normies. You’re part of the reason he’s dead. And don’t even deny it, you know that wasn’t him after the fair.” that shut him up quick, he knows i’m right.

He shook his head and made his way to my door. “Wednesday declined the offer.”

“Good. We don’t need anymore egotistic skinny dippers here.”

Then he was gone. My heart was racing. I haven’t talked to Xavier in a few months, and I definitely didn’t expect the first time to be an argument.

-

I heard a knock at my window, it possibly could just be the old welding creaking. It’s midnight, who would be outside my window at midnight?

knock knock.

I quickly and quietly wrapped myself in my blanket and nervously walked towards the window. I opened it and looked around to see who was there, nobody. 

I was about to close my window until I saw a blur in my peripheral vision. It was Thing, giving some sassy attitude because I couldn't see him.

“What?” I whispered to him, rubbing my tired eyes.

He started signing to me, telling me things with his fingers.

“Slow down. Wednesday? What? She needs me to- stop.” I quietly barked at him.

“Why does she need me to go into the Nightshade library if she has total access?” 

He began to sign again, having a slight attitude with the way he moved.

“Fine. But make sure to tell her to stay out of trouble if she’s one strike away from getting expelled, and that she owes me.” 

He understood and nodded then made his way out of the window.

I quickly put on my hoodie and grabbed my phone before sneaking out of my dorm. The corridors were dim and quiet as I crept down to the Poe statue.

I stood in front of the old statue and held my hand up. "snap twice." I breathed out.

My thumb and middle finger rubbed against each other quickly, letting out those two snaps. The statue grinding against the concrete floor, opening and revealing the stairs to the secret library.

I walked down the cobwebbed filled stairs, shivering from the cold of the lower level.

I reached the library, walking over to see the picture of my parents hanging up on the wall. The Addams and Thorpe family next to my parents frame.

“What are you doing here?”

My hand shot up and clenched into a fist to conjure a strong vine to grab the owner of the voice. I tightened my fist to make sure the vines were tight and strong. 

I turned around and saw my vines holding down the hands of Xavier. I loudly sighed and rolled my eyes knowing that he’s in my way again.

“Let me go.” he struggled against the vines. His white shirt loose on him as his sweatpants were tied.

“Why would you creep up on me?” I jerked my head forward, my hand unclenching to release him.

“Why are you here?” he rubbed at his wrists.

I ignored him and moved towards the large shelf of books. My fingers dragged along the dusty spines of the book, trying to find the book.

“You shouldn’t be here.” he followed behind me with every step I took, so close that I can feel his breath on my hair.

“I can be here if I want to.” I turned to face him but he bumped into my chest from the quick halt. “But don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

I have a sarcastic smile and turned back to looking for the book that Wednesday needed.

“But to answer your question, I’m here for Wednesday.” I crouched down to the books on the lower shelf.

“Why couldn’t she come here herself?” he asked, leaning against the bookshelf as he looked down at me.

“Why are you here?” I looked up at him. Looking up at him from this angle brought thoughts in my mind that I didn’t need.

“Im actually a Nightshade, you on the other hand aren’t.” his arms crossed over his chest.

I quickly stood up to face him, he towered over me. I looked up at him, his nose flaring a tad as we had a stare off while we were merely an inch apart from each other.

He was the first one to look away, rolling his eyes and turning his head. I turned around and started looking for the book again. 

“Are you going to help me look or just keep breathing down my back?” I asked him with a playful tone.

He put his arms up in surrender, walking away to the desk where his things were set up. He sat on the chair and continued his sketch.

“Fucking finally!” I sighed out as I grabbed the needed book from the shelf and held it against my chest.

I walked over to Xavier, standing behind him as I watched his fingers smudge the led of the pencil. I couldn’t really tell what he was drawing, it was unfinished and his hand was covering most of it.

“Are you going to leave or just keep breathing down my back?” he continued drawing, not even turning to look at me.

“Hmm I don't know. Maybe I like breathing down your neck, it seems like it gets you annoyed.” I had a small grin on my face. We used to have this type of playful banter before that traumatic night, I sort of miss it.

He scoffed and I just knew he rolled his eyes because he was annoyed of me.

I took another look at his drawing, this time I’m able to see the almost finished product. It looked so familiar, he added so much detail that I felt like I knew what it was.

“What is it?” I pointed to his paper.

He closed his sketchbook harshly and dropping his pencil onto the table. He leaned on his elbows on the table, just sitting there in silence probably thinking of ways to kill me because I was annoying him.

I began to turn on my heel and silently walk towards the stairs that I came down from earlier.

“Why do you think that wasn’t Rowan?” he blurted out. His body in the chair is turned to me as I turned back on my heel to face him.

“Why don’t you believe Wednesday?” I questioned against him.

“I asked a question first.” he tilted his head, motioning for my to tell him my thoughts.

I walked closer to him, setting down the book onto the table as I leaned my hip on the edge. I made sure to keep a distance from him.

“I stopped him on his way to the car and I gave him a bundle of lavender. He said that I always knew it was his favorite. Everyone knows he’s deathly allergic to lavender.” I crossed my arms over my chest with a huff. “Now, why don’t you believe Wednesday?”

Xavier rubbed a hand over his face. “Isn’t it weird that on her first couple of days she was almost killed by Rowan, then witnessed Rowans ‘murder’ and was supposedly saved by the monster?”

I shrugged my shoulders, basically telling him in makes sense.

“It doesn't line up.” 

I rolled my eyes at him which I received a scrunched up face from him. “I think you’re in denial of his death. You’re making up excuses. Just admit that I’m right.”

He scoffed louder this time, his fingers combing back his hair. The veins in his arm were prominent and his hands were always so nice and pampered.

He went to stand up and slowly reached to grab his sketch book, but I was quick enough to get ahold of it before him.

“Give it.” his voice had a hint of playfulness behind it, but his face didn't show any sign of a smile or smirk.

“C’mon, just admit it.. and apologize to me.” I conjured a vine to hold his book against the wall with thick trailings of the plant tight around it.

“Are you serious? It’s late” he rubbed at his eyes as he held out his hand waiting for me to give him his book back.

“You just have to do two things, it’s not hard.” I had a small cocky smile on my face.

“Fine.” he rolled his eyes.

I was nice enough to loosen my vines from his book that was up against the wall. My vines bringing his book to my hands.

I cocked my eyebrow telling him to carry on and say what is needed to be said.

“Rowan is dead, and that wasn’t the real Rowan.” one of his hands stayed in a fist at his side, while the other still was holding out waiting for his book to be laid flat on his palm.

I hummed as I began to flip through his sketches.

“Dude!” he jumped out to me but I was quick to pull back, still looking through the hundreds of sketches.

“Wow, you’re really into this whole monster thing huh?” I had a sarcastic shocked face.

I moved my body over to the desk where he sat earlier, leaning my thighs against it. My eyes scanned through the pages, looking at how intricate the detailing was.

“Stop.” I jumped at me again, my body leaning back onto the table as his chest was close to mine. I clicked my tongue at his failed attempt. “Just give it.” he breathed out as he was still an inch away.

My eyes drifted to his eyes. Fuck. Those green eyes tortured me, and those lips. I really shouldn’t be feeling this type of way.

“I’ll give it if you answer a question.” I sent him a smirk.

One side of his lips tilted up, but he tried to hide it by dragging hand down his face.

“Fine.” he huffed out.

“Have you ever drawn me?” I tilted my head to the side as I watched him think through his answer. 

I can tell by the way his mouth opens and closes that he doesn't know if he should say. I already know the answer.

“Tick tock.” I bopped my head side to side.

“Yes.” he muttered out.

A smile formed on my face as his cheeks began to blush.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Can you say that again?” 

“Yes! Fuck, I’ve drawn you.” his hands frustratingly combed his hair back.

I flipped through his sketch book to find the page of a drawing of me. My eyes were drawn to be seductive, dark, and my lips more plump. On the other page is a drawing of me laying in bed but a chain dangling over my face. 

I looked up from the page to see the same dangling chain. I look further up and see Xaviers face red from embarrassment. 

“Look, you weren’t-” I nodded and closed the book, pushing it against his stomach telling him to grab it. 

His hand grabbed it the book but I didn't let go of the book, I pulled on the book and brought him close to me again. My brought my lips to his, dropping the book onto the table.

He pulled back from the kiss. “I thought you were weirded out.” He looked at me with wide confused eyes.

I dragged my hands up to the nape of his neck, my fingers lightly scratching his scalp.

“I like weird things.” I shrugged my shoulders and pulled him back down into a kiss.

His hands moved to my hips, pulling him into me and his fingers squeezing tightly. My hands gripping his hair as we breathed heavy and our tongues clashing.

Both of us moaning into each others mouth as he pulled himself between my legs, the many layers of clothing between us. 

We suddenly heard the heavy scratch of the statue moving and footsteps tapping against the stone. Xavier and I quickly separated from each other and stood apart as we waited to see who it was.

I quickly fixed my hair and clothes, and he did the same.

“Well hello Mister Thorpe and Miss l/n.” 

“Miss Weems.” we said in sync as we nodded to her.

“It is pretty late, so I suggest that the two of you get some rest.” the tall blonde stood with her arms ushering to the entrance as she stood in a silk grey robe and matching pajama pants.

“Will do Miss.” I sent her a smile as I grabbed the book that Wednesday needed as Xavier grabbed his sketchbook and pencils.

The two of us walked up the stairs with Weems following closely behind. 

“Goodnight you two.” Weems said quietly once we reached the hallway, she then made her way down the opposite way of our corridors.

“I still hate you.” I muttered to Xavier then turned my heel to the girls corridors.

[storm-angel989]

Outside the Office Part Seventeen

Hi all,

A little bit of a transition post- the next one will be a bit spicier. Enjoy the story and as usual, trigger warning, specifically for dealing with death.

I didn’t realize I was crying until my head was on Valentino’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me as the tears of sadness, anger, frustration and shame flooded through me. 

“The first time hurts, princessa. It always does.” He said softly. “And it isn’t uncommon to not convince a soul to sign on the dotted line, especially on the first try.” 

I felt his hand run through my hair as he held me. The thought of someone, anyone, going through the unimaginable pain of descending into hell by themselves, and the inevitable of what would happen to someone who was very close to just a child herself. 

“You tried,” Valentino said quietly. He released his hold and guided me to his desk. He sat himself down in the chair and pulled me on his lap, and cradled me against his body. “You tried your best, but at the end of the day- she chose not to sign.”

“She didn’t have time to hear me out! If I had said different words, if I had just…” My words broke into a hiccuping sob. “If I had just done better.” 

He again wrapped his arms around me and silently held me until I quieted once again. When he spoke again his words were soft, but stern.

“You need to understand something, reader. Listen to my words carefully. We offer a soul a choice, and we do our best to provide a soft landing for those we can. But at the end of each interaction, the ultimate decision is not ours to make. You can wish you had done things differently, but the outcome is not ever in your hands.” 

His arms wrapped tighter around me and he ran his hand down my back, and pressed his lips to the top of my head. 

“This is the most I’ve ever heard you call me by my name,” I said, rubbing my eyes. Tears leaked out and I let out a frustrated laugh mixed with a sob, “goddamn it.” 

He gave me a small smile. “Only when I need to get your attention. Otherwise, I prefer my pet names. And I think you do too. Close your eyes for me, princessa.” 

I did as he asked and I felt him gently pat the tears away from my face. I let out a hiccup and a sob as I opened my eyes. 

“God damn it.” I cursed as another hiccup shot through me. 

“I’ve got your cure, sit tight,” he said as he stood up. He carefully placed me on the desk  and walked across the office. “I promise I’ll be right back.” 

I watched the wall roll to the side and when he stepped out, it closed behind him with a silent slam. A few hiccups later, Valentino reappeared, balancing three mugs in his hand. The first he handed to me and with his guidance, I went through the ritual of bending at the waist and drinking down the warm water. of warm water. After a few hiccup free moments, he handed me a second mug. 

“Tea. Sip on it, princessa. It will help settle your nerves, I promise.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “Just tea? What kind?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, just camomile tea and honey. Nothing extra, I promise. I wouldn’t do that to you. Ever.” He wrapped his hands around his own mug and took a sip. 

I did the same. A calm washed over me with each sip and all too soon, the mug was empty.

“Feel better?” Valentino asked, his own mug empty as well. “I always feel a touch dehydrated whenever I travel to earth and back, no matter how frequently I go. Vox and Velvette feel the same, which is why we keep cold water back here,” he nodded towards the fridge in the corner. “Though after tough nights, I find tea more helpful than anything else. But keep that between us, okay?” He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. 

“I feel better now, can we go back out? Vox said there was no limit on souls collected, so we can travel back right now, right?” I asked. 

He hesitated. “Mi amore, you witnessed a difficult scene tonight. I think it would be best if we….”

“Went home? Saved no one?” The frustration in my voice was evident to both of us. “Val, I…”

“Also deserve to rest. I won’t refuse your request, but is that really what you want? Or do you think you could better serve the next soul you touch by ensuring you are at your best?” He kissed my forehead. “Think about it, princessa.”

As much as I hated to admit it, he had a point. I was eager to get back out there, but the anger, the lack of control that surged through me when I realized I hadn’t done what I set out to do frightened me. And if I couldn’t keep my own emotions in check, what was to keep me from doing more harm than good? I could still feel the tingling sensation and inside, my emotions tumbled. 

“Val, I want to go home,” I said quietly. 

“I think that’s a good choice for love.” He offered his hand. I took it in mine and together we walked back into the club scene. 

The bright lights and loud music momentarily stunned me as I walked back into the scene. Compared to the quietness of the office, the unwelcome noise made my head hurt. Desperate for a moment to myself, I tugged his hand. 

“Val, I need to use the bathroom,” I said as I released my hand from his. “I’ll be right back.”

He nodded and turned his attention to a demon who slid up next to him. His expression shifted into work mode and his signature smile broke across his face. Ugh, watching him work was the last thing I wanted to do. I slipped off to the side and made my way into the club bathroom. 

The bathroom itself was eerily quiet, absent of the drunken demons who typically  showered each other in compliments. As I stood and washed my hands as a gaggle of girls walked in. 

“Ohmygodlook, it's like the Vee's little pet,” one of them cooed. “Did they finally let you off your leash?”

I whirled around to face them. At my fingertips, power tingled. “What did you say?” 

“Uhm, are you fucking dumb as well as deaf?” one of the others snapped. “You’re more pathetic than the rest of Valentino’s little fangirls.” 

“Honestly, what does she have that we don’t?” another sneered. “With you out of the way, Valentino will have no distractions to keep him from us.”

“And that Vox…mmm…I wouldn’t mind getting wrapped up in his circuits,” the final one cooed. 

“So really, if we just push her out of the way our pathway will be clear. We can do that, right girls?” She reached for me. “Come to me you little who-” 

I punched her before she could finish her sentence. The events of the night, all the rage, the anger, the sadness and uncertainty coursed through my veins as logic was forgotten, leaving behind nothing but the rawness of emotion. Power coursed through me as I picked another one up and threw her through the door. The door flew back off its hinges and she hit the wall, leaving behind a demon shaped indent. I reached for the next one and grabbed her by her stupid black wings before I launched her as far away from me as I could. Security came rushing over and I could feel the rage grow with each passing second as the rest attempted to scurry.

“Don’t you ever, fucking call me a whore,” I snarled as my hands wrapped around the throat of the first demon, “and if you ever, ever even think about touching me again,  I will end your fucking life. I’m not Valentino’s fucking pet, I’m the princess of fucking hell!” 

Another explosion as I launched her across the dance floor. I felt a hand on me and without hesitation, I pushed away the security demon. He flew back, and landed far, far behind me. Somewhere deep inside, this power felt amazing. Slowly, I advanced towards one of the girls who lay on the floor. How far could I take this? 

Vox’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Reader!” 

The anger in his voice caught me by surprise and I felt his hand wrap around my wrist.  Or what It thought was my wrist. The sight of the swirling red and purple around my hands yanked me back to reality. 

“Come with me. Now.” Vox yanked me across the now vacant dancefloor. 

Every inch of energy I had put towards wasting those bitches deflated as I was dragged out the door, Velvette behind me, her fingers flying a mile a minute on her phone. I tried to protest as he pulled me into the limo and Vox shook his head at me and pushed me into a seat.

“But Valentino!” I begged. 

“Now has a major clean up to handle, what the actual fuck happened?” Vox asked, his voice eerily calm as he forced me to look at him as his eye swirled. “Now is your one chance to explain.”

“The girls, in the bathroom they…” I broke into the story, humiliation and horror washing through me as I realized what I had done. 

“So you thought the best way to handle stupid drunk bitches was to put them through the wall? And lose your shit?” Velvette asked. She glanced up from her phone. “I mean, on a personal level I can’t blame you. I probably would have done the same thing.”

Vox looked pained. He pulled out his own phone and began to type. “Lets just hope Val and Lucifer can do enough damage control that this doesn’t fuck up your reputation or ours.”

I felt the color drain from my face. In the heat of the moment, I hadn’t considered the long term consequences, or how it would affect those around me

“Did you not think your actions would be noticed? Just because they didn’t realize who you are, others fucking did,” Vox asked when he saw my face. He leaned back against the seat, the annoyance prominent on his features. “You’ve been with us long enough now to know we only show our best sides in public, and keep the meltdowns behind closed doors.” He shook his head. “Luckily for you, every single instance of footage of the incident is already gone. We’ll see what kind of in person damage control Val and Lucifer can do.”

If I felt bad before, I felt absolutely awful now. Shame and embarrassment flowed through me and as soon as the painfully silent ride home ended, I rushed ahead of the other two up to my bedroom, and locked the door behind me. I half expected to hear a knock or for the door to be zapped open, but instead blissful silence surrounded me. They were probably too busy trying to cover up my fuck up to come and check in the way I had grown used to the past few months. 

Unsure of what else to do, I opted for pajamas and a shower. As I let the hot water hit my skin, the feeling of self loathing intensified with each passing second. I fucked up, not just once, but twice. I cost a soul her chance at a safe landing and I fucked up not only my reputation, but the reputation of the Vee’s as well. Dread knotted in my stomach as worry and fear took over. What would be the consequences of my actions? My lack of control? Whatever it was, I deserved it- every single part of it, whatever that might be. I hoped beyond hope that the consequences were ones that I would bear alone, and that my actions didn’t hurt the ones I had come to love. 

My mind continued to race as I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out of the bathroom. I stood in my closet, and looked over the plethora of  pajamas. After a few moments of hesitation, reached for one of Valentino’s shirts, then pulled my hand away. Of all the people, he would be the one to suffer the most for my actions tonight. It was his club I had damaged, his clients who had paid the price of my misplaced anger, and his reputation I had probably wrecked. 

I felt the hot sting of tears threaten to spill and I grabbed a different pair of my own pajamas and crawled under the covers of my bed. Gone was the fierce girl in the mirror, and unable to control the swirling emotions, all I felt was weakness. As I bit back the tears, my fathers voice echoed in my head. 

Tears never solved anything. He would snarl at me.  Get up, and fix the issue. 

This applied to everything to a scraped knee, a paperwork error, and everything in between. I wrapped my arms around myself and tried desperately to regain control. That’s all I needed to do. Stop feeling, and let logic dictate my next steps. Crying twice in one day? Unacceptable. I was better than this. At least, I used to be.

“Hey, little lady. Why the frown?” Lucifer’s voice floated through the bedroom. 

I felt his weight as he sat down on the bed. Wrapped in my own thoughts, I hadn’t felt the shift in power when he entered the room, or maybe there just hadn’t been one. 

Silence for a moment, and then he cleared his throat. 

“Val told me what happened, when you went to collect your first soul. And I saw the footage from the club. While I completely agree they deserved every single bit of your anger, you need to not ever do that again. You’re lucky it was towards the end of the night, on a relatively slow night at that.” 

I didn’t answer. I felt him shift and lay next to me before tugging the covers from over my head. My eyes met his and he offered me a smile. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you sweetheart. I need you to do the same,” he said. He propped his head up with his hand. “Come on, I know you’ve got to be angry at the circumstances, and if I knew my brother in law well enough, at yourself.” His voice turned mocking, sarcastic. “Angel’s don’t make these kinds of mistakes, right? Angel’s don’t lose control. Angel’s have absolutely perfect decorum at all times. Am I right?” 

I gave him the slightest nod. 

Lucifer groaned. “Well, that’s all bullshit. Sorry to tell you, sweetheart. In as much as I am irritated at the amount of excess work I had to do tonight, I’m more pleased that you’re feeling your feelings- and doing something about it. That’s not to say that you can put everyone who pisses you off into a wall, but at the very least I know somewhere in your heart you’ve started that healing process.” He pushed his hand against my forehead and smoothed back my hair. “No lasting damage has been done, I promise.”

“You should all be furious with me,” I said. “Not only did I fail you, I failed a soul. I failed Valentino. I failed the Vox and Velvette.”

“You failed no one. You’re swinging too far in the other direction, love, and letting your emotions take over. Bring back some of the logic and mesh it in with your emotions. Step by step. How could you have handled the bathroom situation with a balance between the two?”

“I could have ignored them. I could have walked out of the bathroom because the logical side of me knows they’re spewing bullshit.” I responded quietly. 

“Mmm, you could have done that, but there is a better way.” Lucifer said, a grin on his face. “One that would have both shown your power and gotten your point across.”

I stared at him for a moment.

“Really? Nothing?” He asked in an amused voice. “Fine. I’ll tell you. The moment that bitch opened her mouth you could have controlled yourself enough to tell her off, push her against the wall, tell her exactly who you were and then walked away and took your place back at Valentino’s table.”

“I didn’t have enough control to even think that far ahead,” I admitted. “I had zero self control, I just…wanted what I wanted in the moment.”

“That’s where practice and time and reflection will help guide you. And the more it happens, the better you’ll get at it. Though I strongly suggest practicing more at home than in public- I’m sure there is enough going on around here that you could be angry at.”

I frowned. “What do you mean by that? The Vee’s are fantastic. I don’t get angry here, ever.” I replied.

He raised an eyebrow. “Valentino’s work never bothers you? No one ever gives you an odd look in Vox’s office or in Velvette’s studio?” 

“I mean, yeah, but…”

“No buts. Stop brushing it aside and handle it by acknowledging your emotion and confronting the person who made you feel that way. I’m not saying go overboard, but if you hear a snicker when you walk past one of Valentino’s workers, turn around and call them out on it. Watch what happens to your respect level when you do. And carry that control out of this building. You’ll find life gets much easier when you embrace the gray parts of life. Not everything is black and white.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “A hard concept to grasp, I know. Especially when Angels live their lives by that rule.” He sat up and swung off the bed. “Come on sweetheart, let your Uncle Lucy lift your spirits. Follow me.”

My pajamas were replaced by sneakers, a gray hoodie, and blue jeans. At the end of my bed, a rift like the one in the office opened up.

“No, Uncle Lucy- I”

“Come along,” he said, ignoring my protests as he pulled me to my feet. “You will be successful tonight and you will feel better.” 

Together we stepped through the portal and onto my second scene of the night. Around us, a blue light glowed from the scene of yet another accident. 

“There is your soul,” he nodded towards the teenager in the front seat. “Driving too fast on a dark wet road. His girlfriend is in the front seat, also heading straight to hell for sins of her own. Convince them both to come with you so they can be together. Otherwise they’ll be separated upon their arrival to hell. Be sure to tell them that.” He pushed me forward. “Go. This is your redemption shot, and I know you can do it.”

I didn’t see the point in arguing with Lucifer. I stepped forward, sitting in front of the cracked upside down windshield to look at both of their faces, or what was left of them. My heart went out to them both, and in the moment all the failures of the night were forgotten. My focus was on them, and them alone. 

“In moments, you two will die. If you wish to stay together, you will take the deal I am about to offer you.” The words came to me effortlessly, a clear deviation from the script Velvette had taught me. 

Both humans looked horrified, but stayed silent. Two contracts appeared, alongside two pens. Neither moved, but their eyes were glued to me. 

“But heaven….” the girl began.

“Isn’t willing to accept either of you. Hell, however, offers you a chance. Either arrive in hell together, with people who will make sure you’re taken care of, or arrive in front of the sins where you will be separated, as different sins lay claim on your souls. Which do you choose?” My words continued to follow effortlessly, but inside I begged for them to make the right choice. 

After what felt like an eternity in silence, they spoke. 

“Together,” the man choked out. I watched as he moved what was left of his hand towards his girlfriend. 

She gave a small, wordless nod. 

“Then sign the contract, give me ownership of your souls, and I will ensure that happens.” Internally, I wanted to yell in excitement. All they had to do was sign, and their lives would change for nothing but the better. 

In a moment, the whiteness began to float and both scrawled their signatures across the bottom of their contracts before vanishing down to hell. The night around us sat silent and dark, the sound of sirens noticeably absent. No one knew they had flipped their car, and on a night this dark, no one would until at least the morning. I felt a power rush through me vanishing almost as quickly as it came. 

“Much easier when you stop thinking, isn’t it?” Lucifer asked as the portal opened up, breaking the night into two. “There isn’t a script you learn by heart. You assess every situation and attempt to comfort and convince. You did perfectly, my dear.” 

Together we walked back through the portal into my bedroom.  It snapped shut behind us, and Lucifer turned to me. 

“Congratulations, you are now the proud owner of two souls. Listen to me- there is nothing you need to do to uphold your contract. Its all taken care of. Take what I’ve talked about tonight into consideration and learn how to balance your emotions and logic. Two souls won’t make much of a power difference but twenty? Two hundred? It will only grow. The sooner you learn to manage it, the better.” He leaned in and kissed my forehead. “Valentino should be home momentarily. Goodbye, sweetheart.” He paused for a moment, “I’m proud of you.” 

He vanished just as I heard the doorknob jiggle, and the tell tale zap of Vox unlocking my door. 

“Hey, you okay?” Vox asked, pushing the door open. “Val’s home, he wanted me to check on you.” 

“Why didn’t he come and check on me then?” I asked, a little more aggressively than I meant. “I mean, I’m sorry it’s…”

“Been a long night. He asked that you come to him, that’s all,” Vox said gently. He turned as if to walk out and then paused. “Believe me when I tell you he needs a shower before he sees you.” 

I shivered at the implication. I watched as he turned and walked out of my room. After a moment, I followed him out and made my way down the hall to Valentino’s room. I turned the door knob, and to my surprise, I found it unlocked.

“Valentino?” I called out cautiously as I pushed the door open. I could hear the sound of the shower running, and I cracked open the bathroom door. “Val? It’s me.”

“Princessa, I am almost done. Sit on the counter and wait for me,” he answered instantly. 

I let myself in all the way and did as he commanded, pulling myself onto the countertop, letting my legs dangle. I watched his shadow move behind the door and after a few seconds, he emerged. I handed him a towel and he wrapped it around himself and leaned over, kissing my forehead as he spoke. 

“You okay baby girl? You did some…pretty good damage tonight.” He pulled on his bathrobe and turned to me, his expression a mix of concern and something I didn’t quite recognize. 

I hung my head. “I’m sorry Val, I didn’t mean…”

He cut me off with a kiss. “Enough, mi amore. I understand. Come on, let’s put this to rest. We all make mistakes, and yours isn’t all that big of a deal. I promise. ” He lifted me up and with another kiss, carried me off to bed, the sins of the day to be forgotten and the victories to be celebrated. 

And celebrate the victories we did. 

[thesparklingwriter]

𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒆

tags: zhongli x gn!reader, fluff, angst, reader is the sibling of guizhong, themes of loss (please lmk if I've missed any important tags)

word count: 1.6k

notes: before you read, i recommend taking a quick look at the ask this request came from! i may have possibly missed out some scene setting as a result of assuming every knows the context. I had so much fun doing this :) don't tell anyone but i actually shed one or two tears, but i was listening to the ballad of jane doe as i wrote it so can i truly be blamed? @cheezybell , i hope this lives up to your expectations <3 if there's anything formatting-wise that I've forgotten about tell me tomorrow cause it's now past midnight and i'm going to bed :)

Masterlist | taglist form

The world had been silent since you died. The god of war was accustomed to loss, but none had worn on him so heavily but yours. Of course, you weren't his only acquaintance, but the uncertainty of your well-being weighed heavily on him. The others were lost to the winds, their memories infused into fields of lilies and violent sunrises, all of which he observes with a detached melancholy.

To protect yourself after sustaining an almost fatal blow, you'd employed a tactic Morax himself had taught you—a tactic that had a 50 per cent success rate, a tactic for a worst-case scenario, a tactic shared with you because he couldn't bear the thought of you leaving him forever. If he'd have known that he'd be here now, seated beside your lifeless body, quietly begging someone, something, to save you, his friend, his companion, his… It doesn't matter now.

He wouldn't indulge himself in such thoughts. It was selfish. You'd tried to protect yourself for his sake, and here he was, wishing that you'd died so he would have had the chance to find your reincarnated soul in the faces of those in the harbour. You'd sworn you'd always be with him, regardless of the circumstances, irrespective of the fact that you loved him and he didn't–couldn't ever know. You'd watch him from a distance, how he brought smiles to people's faces and how the people of Liyue worshipped the ground he walked on. What would he want with you? The forgotten kin of a well-known adeptus—adept at nothing much but fading into the mist. What could you offer him that thousands of being on Teyvat couldn't?

"If I'm the reason why you aren't returning," Morax says softly, his voice permeating the silence of the cave he hides you in. "Please rest assured that I expect nothing of you upon your return. Simply focus on yourself. That's all I ask."

As long as he knew you were alive, Morax would accept being apart from you. But until he was aware of your recovery, he'd keep visiting.

And so he did.

Millenia go by before there's even a slight change in your appearance. He visits you at the end of every era he finds himself in—the end of the archon war, Liyue's sudden economic boost, his 'death' at the hands of the Fatui… He keeps you up to speed on it all. Of course, if you want to survive in this world once you awaken, you have to know what's going on, do you not?

This time, when he sits beside you to tell you about how Liyue no longer has an archon and the new life he hopes to pursue, his heart swells with hope. In the dim light of the almost freezing cave, Morax is almost convinced that he spies the condensation of your breath in the air. But simultaneously, the years of hoping and praying for your return have hardened his heart to hope. It's a selfish emotion, one he should know better than to entertain. But though there's a voice in the back of his head, telling him that he's hoping and praying and waiting for nothing, it's you he's waiting for. The one who always made him laugh, listened to him as he mused aloud about the wonders of Teyvat, and helped him mediate arguments between Cloud Retainer and Guizhong. He can't let you go.

"Change is constant in this world," He says to you, noting the slight colour in your cheeks and the flicker of your eyelids. "But I will continue to wait for you, to cultivate your memory such that nothing can dull its shine."

It was a promise to a friend, a declaration of love, an acceptance of defeat. He strokes your hair lightly, an intimate gesture he always longed for when you were alive, one he indulges himself in, in case it wakes you up. And the contact shocks you. You can feel it and hear him, but you can't reach out. You can't hold him in your arms and tell him that it's okay, that you loved him then, and you love him now, and nothing he could ever say or do could ever change that.

But you never had the will to do so when you were awake, and now, as you cling onto his voice to drag yourself back into reality, your resolve is too much for your body to bear, and you explode into fine mist, impossible to catch or hold, or trap. Morax realises that, and though his heart disappeared with you, he accepts his fate—forever longing for a being he might never see again.

✧

Finding yourself in Liyue after the years passed is nothing short of a learning curve. You learn early on that Morax was killed by the Fatui in an act of cold cruelty, a discovery that leaves you fuelled with rage. But casting your mind back to past conversations with Morax himself reminds you of a hypothetical game you and Guizhong used to play with him to pass the hours. Morax always had a fascination with the idea of faking his demise if it was what was necessary for Liyue's survival. Or course, that kind of morbid practicality makes Morax who he is, and you struggle to believe that he'd leave Liyue without a fight. He'd waited millennia for your return, but you're supposed to believe that he'd abandon his nation without so much as a second thought? Impossible.

So you set to finding him. Regardless of what form he's taken on or the lies he's employed to stay under the radar, you will find him. It starts with assimilating into Liyue's society, working hard to establish yourself as an upstanding member of the harbour, always found helping with a smile on your face. You'd smile innocently when asked what you charged for your help and services. "I'm something of a history buff," you'd say. "I'm researching Morax's death—undoubtedly this is an important date in the history of Liyue and i'd like to hear more about it from those who experienced it."

Of course, locals were more than happy to help—to share stories of their valiant archon, who left too soon, but left his nation in such good stead for the future. Most, if not all, the leads you were given were dead ends, an impressive mix of decorated truths and half lies. That was, until a passing traveller mentioned a certain Zhongli of the Wangsheng funeral parlour. According to them, he was the man for any kind of Liyuean history, regardless of the era.

You wasted no time hurrying to the funeral parlour with newfound hope. Would this Zhongli know where Morax is? Would he know of you, Guizhong or any other Adepti that were lost to the brutality of the war? Or would he send you away, accusing you of insanity or espionage?

You didn't know, and frankly, you didn't care. When you arrive at the parlour, you're met by a young woman who greets you with a melancholy smile. "How may I help you?"

"I was hoping to speak with a Mr Zhongli? If that's possible, that is."

The woman's expression changes, relaxing from its state of melancholy. "Of course. I can get him for you. Feel free to take a seat."

The seconds seem to drag by as you sit and wait for this man to arrive. Is this yet another dead end? Your mind begins to wander before the woman returns, asking you to follow her to his office. She seems slightly surprised by the words coming out of her mouth—admitting that this isn't something the man often does. The walk to his office is almost stifling. You're silent, your heart pounding helplessly in your chest as you walk.

The woman opens a heavy mahogany door, smiling encouragingly at you as you walk in.

The man before you nods at the woman before turning his attention to you, and you're surprised by his reaction. Years of analysing Morax's stoic face have taught you to pick up on micro reactions like the one Zhongli displays as he looks at you.

His eyes soften as he stands up, bracing himself on the desk as he rises. "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name," he says slowly. You tell him your name, and he chuckles lightly to himself. Of course, you'd find him. Or course you would. You look the same as the day you fell asleep, your eyes wide and excited, a gentle smile playing on your lips despite the absurdity of the situation you find yourself in. He extends his hand to you, and you shake it firmly, muttering the necessary pleasantries.

Zhongli can't believe it. You're real, not a figment of his desperate imagination. You're real, and perfect, and standing right in front of him on your own two feet. Do you know who he is? Is this some cruel joke Celestia is playing on him as punishment for going through with the Fatui's plan? His eyes are familiar to you—they shine with gold as you stare at him, your mind trying to grasp where you remember him from.

"How can I help you?" Zhongli asks. He can't bear to look away from you, the one he's loved since before he could quantify the feeling. The one who listened to him with such care and kindness. The one who made the millennia of duties and solitude worth it. It's you. You've returned to him. And regardless of whether you remember him or not, he swears that he'll express his love for you. He won't make the same mistake twice.

© 2023, thesparklingwriter. please do not copy, edit, repost, or translate.

taglist: @ainescribe

[acearcane]

Help me choose my next project!

Per custom, I have too many ideas and no clue which one to go with. So I'm going to leave it up to the fates. (Aka, you. You're the fates.)

All of these are Umbrella Academy fics, but you don't need to know anything about the show to vote. Just choose whichever title sounds coolest, or feel free to read the summaries beneath the poll.

Most of my fic ideas are Five or Vikor-centric. There's a Klaus one in there though, and an Allison one.

1. time, that fickle temptress

At first, Five assumes it’s a fluke, the trick of a tired mind. Just a lost recollection here or there; nothing too unusual for a man of his age. But when the memories begin disappearing at a faster rate, Five begins to piece together what is truly truly going on.

His mind and body are attempting to realign. He’s becoming thirteen again.

2. i look in a mirror and i see you

Five Hargreeves has been trapped in the apocalypse for almost five years; a bit ironic, isn’t it? His powers are working just fine, but he finds himself faced with a peculiar problem: he can’t seem to find the right timeline.

After another jump goes wrong, Five finds himself in a universe where he and his siblings were never adopted; in fact, they never even had powers. It’s there that he meets a younger version of himself, and sees what life might’ve been like if it weren’t for his father.

3. the voice of god

Allison is tired of losing everyone and everything she loves. Be it the fault of her father, the universe, or the careless actions of her siblings, she’s reached the point where she can’t take it any more. Someone needs to suffer for what has happened, and Allison is more than willing to make them suffer.

In which the author gives Allison a self-indulgent villain arc that does not involve sexual assault.

4. a morbid reflection

The Hargreeves may be broken people, but they have always tried their best to do what is right.

This isn’t the case in every universe.

When Allison reset the timeline with an incomplete equation, it fractured, resulting in dozens of different universes that are shaky reflections of the original. The Hargreeves and their allies have been scattered across these dimensions, trapped in worlds that are not their own with no clear path home.

Lila finds herself alone in one such universe. In this timeline, the members of the Umbrella Academy are not the heroes that are known and loved in other dimensions. Instead, they are the villains of this world, dark and twisted versions of the people Lila has come to love.

Unfortunately for her, if she’s going to get home, she’s going to need their help. She’ll do whatever it takes to convince them--or trick them--into giving her what she wants. But Lila isn’t the only one with ulterior motives; unbeknownst to her, there’s someone else pulling the strings, and they aren’t afraid to let the world burn along the way.

“This is the price of being powerful. Sometimes we step on ants.”

5. oh to be young again

Five tries to reverse the mistake that got him trapped in his 13-year-old body. Something goes wrong, and now his siblings are stuck as kids, too.

6. my brother’s keeper

(An Umbrella Academy/The Hunger Games AU) When Five Hargreeves’ brother is reaped for the 170th Annual Hunger Games, Five volunteers in a desperate ploy to save his life. He doesn’t expect to win, not when he’s so much smaller and younger than the rest of the tributes, but he’s willing to do anything to get back to Viktor. If that means defying the odds and fighting his way through twenty-three tributes to return home, then so be it.

Unbeknownst to Five, rebellion is boiling at the seams of Panem. The flame of revolution that died nearly a hundred years ago with Katniss Everdeen has been rekindled, and it has chosen this year’s tributes as its puppets.

Now Five finds himself faced with two choices: play the Capitol’s game and lose himself in the process, or fan the fires of revolution and risk losing the world instead.

7. the skeleton key

Klaus can’t take it any more; after one too many evenings spent trapped in the house of the dead, the ten-year-old boy decides to call the authorities on his father. Things don’t go quite as planned, and after months of brutal court cases and custody battles, Klaus and his siblings are scattered across the country through the foster care system.

Six years later, and Klaus hasn’t heard from his siblings since the day they were torn apart. As far as he’s aware, they never want to see him again; he did destroy their life, after all. But then a powerful new enemy rears their head, and Klaus starts receiving instructions through the mail. If he wants to save the world, he’ll have to reunite the Umbrella Academy… and just hope that the anonymous tipper feeding him information is friend, not foe.

8. rusty bullets

(Zombie apocalypse/no power AU) Viktor Hargreeves was attending his first semester of college when the world fell apart. Now the undead roam the streets, and Viktor isn’t quite sure how he’s still alive. One thing is certain, though; he needs to make it back to his hometown, back to his girlfriend Sissy. To do that, he’ll need to join forces with a ragtag band of survivors and battle his way across the apocalypse. The odds are not in his favor, so it’s a good thing Viktor has never been one to give up.

9. a trick of the fates

(Self-indulgent OC fic. They aren't a couple tho, just pals against the end of the world.) When Five Hargreeves escapes the apocalypse after six long years of solitude, he’s ecstatic. Now he has plenty of time to stop the apocalypse before it’s even begun. Only problem? He lands in Larkspur, Colorado, hundreds of miles away from home. And that’s not all… his powers don’t seem to be working, either.

Quincy Gray has never understood her powers, nor does she want to. Unfortunately, they’re becoming harder and harder to control. A miracle arrives in the form of a bedraggled boy who falls out of the sky and into her backyard. They quickly strike up a deal; Quincy gets him home to New York City, and Five teaches her how to use her powers along the way.

Nothing could go wrong, right?

[muekyn]

Can’t help but think about reader that isn’t interested in Obsessed Eren. She just… doesn’t like him like that, she doesn’t really like him that much as a person. She’s super nice but she doesn’t fuck with him. She also isn’t seeing anyone else and doesn’t plan on it because she’s ✨A holy starseed who is saving herself for her twin flame✨ and refuses to date some loser in college that won’t last a year. And she thinks of Eren in the same way, not only is he not her type physically, emotionally, or mentally. But he just seems lame to her. She’s to legit.

a/n: HELLO, hello! i am so sorry i've been so late with this, but i haven't forgotten you! in fact, i’ve been practicing my writing skills in anticipation for this ask hehe. :p i've been thinking about this since you've sent it, so much appreciated <3 you know i love me some obsessive eren. i hope u enjoy!

content: MDNI, obsessive themes, yandere behavior? (not really), gn! reader, college setting!, alcohol, angst, a teeny tiny bit of fluff, eren is a big softie in this one, mean reader? (kinda/not really) word count: 4.8k (IM SORRY)

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

maybe it was just his hair.

or maybe, it was his lazy, glazed appearance.

hell, maybe it was just everything about him.

his personality certainly wasn't obnoxious or anything. he was quiet, seemed to keep to himself, and didn’t really pester you all too much.

but there was something about him that you slightly disliked. you weren’t even sure what it was. maybe it was just the fact that you just couldn’t connect with him- not mentally, not emotionally, not spiritually. you didn’t see much in him.

your eyes flittered over to eren jeager, the man you were just criticizing in your head. he was sitting in his usual spot in the lecture hall, which happened to be right next to your usual spot. leaning over his side of the desk, strands of his messy brown hair slumped down, the rest tied up in a slackly bun. he was wearing a large, baggy hoodie, the same hoodie he always wore, even if it was scorching hot outside. in your eyes, he was just… average. nothing really stood out to you about him; it was if he was like any other guy in your class.

from the corner of his eye, eren noticed your eyes flicker onto his face, and he felt his skin crawl. he hitched his breath, just barely. were you staring at him? eren glanced up from his lecture notes, seemingly not even taking any notes to begin with; a messily drawn sketch of a large dinosaur scribbled on his paper. he tried to hide the drawing as he turned his head to look at you, wondering if you needed something from him.

really though, eren would use any excuse he could just to interact with you.

to put it frankly, eren was desperate for you. at first, eren treated you like he would any other classmate; he ignored you, seemingly too overwhelmed with his life to focus on anybody else. but as the months slipped by, the two of you growing accustomed to sitting next to each other in multiple classes, several days a week, he had gotten to know bits of you. and god, he just adored you.

you were so sweet to him.

eren didn’t know it, but you were sweet to everyone. you were just being polite, after all. even if you disliked eren, just a little bit, you had no reason to be rude to him. so, you smiled at him, giggled with him, and treated him like you would any other acquaintance.

 but for eren- fuck, it was so frustrating.

eren was bordering on obsession. he knew that spending almost every day in your presence, you so very close to him, definitely didn’t help ease that compulsion. every time you sat next to him, he was be able to smell hints of you, see the glossiness of your lips, the softness in your eyes.

eren just didn’t know how you felt, though. in his mind, he wanted to convince himself that you liked him back, just too shy to admit it. and eren didn’t know how to admit it either. so, here you two were, in some sort of back-and-forth limbo that left eren pulling out his hair. he had to comfort himself every night while he laid in bed, reassuring himself that you must have some affection, any affection for him. after all, you were just so sweet to him.

eren tried to stop himself. he really did. as if like clockwork, he told himself that he’d be good- he’d be over you. every day, he told himself that. but whenever you’d walk into class, dropping your bag on the floor, and giving him a tired, shy smile- he couldn’t help but imagine waking up to that face; to see you in your unmatched, natural beauty. whenever he thought he could break away from your grasp, you pulled him back in, not even trying.

eren must have imagined you staring at him. when he turned his head to look at you, you were seemingly focused on your lecture notes, diligently scribbling down whatever the professor was saying.

you could feel eren staring at you as you took your notes. it irked you, just a little bit. why did he feel the need to stare at you all the time? you didn’t even understand why he came to class, asking you for homework or lecture notes almost daily. instead of focusing on his studies, he opted to spending his time drawing or going on his phone when he was in class. you glanced at the dinosaur drawing in his notebook. you felt your skin pricking up as his gaze never ceased, watching you from the corner of his eye. just barely.

the professor stopped his lecturing mid-sentence, casually checking his phone. he frowned upon the sight of what you assumed was a notification.

“sorry class,” he says, swiping his phone, walking over to his desk and gathering his supplies. “something just came up, lecture’s over.”

some students immediately get up upon hearing that class is cut short, quickly beelining it to the exit. you’re one of those students, hastily gathering your supplies and stuffing them into your bag, not even looking back at eren as you leave. today had been a particularly bad day for you; too many things going wrong all at once. you didn’t have much energy to deal with eren’s antics.

you confused him so much. you were so sweet and kind. but then there were times where you would treat him like this, not even saying goodbye to him, seemingly just wanting to get away from him. eren just didn’t understand, he couldn’t understand.

he felt a small twinge in his heart as he watched you walk out the door and into the corridor.

- - -

since lecture was cut short, you decided to spend your free time with one of your best friends, sasha. she was laying on a bean bag in your room, flipped upside down as she snacked on potato chips. you had to remind her not to lay like that, since she’s choked several times in the past laying in that exact position, on that exact bean bag.

while sasha’s munching on her chips, her eyes grow bright as she seems to come to a realization.

“oh! there’s a party tonight!” sasha swallowed, crumbs of fried potato falling down her lips as she flipped around, standing up quickly. “you gotta come, you just have to. it’s gonna be hugeeeee.”

you groan, just slightly. parties weren’t really your thing, especially huge ones. you always felt out of place. sasha knew that very well.

“cmon,” sasha whines. “you’re never out of class this early- it could be fun; you could meet somebody.” she says, her voice teasingly playful, raising her eyebrows at you.

“yeah, no, i’m not really into that, the ‘meeting’ someone thing,” you say, giving air quotes around the word ‘meeting’. you knew what sasha meant by that. you thought hard before you spoke. “but i’ll go. for you, sasha.” you clarify, poking your friend on her forehead. she snorts, delighted by your response.

before you know it, you’re at the party, coming up to the house of some stranger; a large, fancy mansion. it’s littered with people, some drunk, some sober, as crowds enter and exit the house. you try to adjust your outfit for some decency, sasha making you wear something you normally wouldn’t say yes to. you’re a little glad you agreed to wear this outfit though, as you soon realize that everyone around you is littered in slightly nicer clothes than you. sasha is grabbing you by your wrist, almost dragging you into the mansion.

you’re already uncomfortable. it’s absolutely packed in here. you could feel the heat from all the bodies in the room, some more sweaty than others as they danced to the blaring music that was playing.

you and sasha walked around for a bit, trying to find anyone you guys recognized. sasha found a group of her friends, people you didn’t really know, and began to socialize with them. you stood a little way away from sasha’s friend group, awkwardly listening to them share inside jokes and tell stories about one another.

after talking with her friends for quite some time, sasha made her way back to you, a couple of her friends still with her. while leaning against a wall, you were scrolling on your phone, nothing to do as you wished you were home right now. you looked up at sasha, seemingly relieved that she was back. but before you could say anything to her, she was already turned around, heading off in the other direction while her friends seemed to drag her away.

“sasha-!“ you have to yell to be heard over the noise.

“let me get us some drinks!” sasha called out to you, curtly turning her head around to look at you. her brunette hair was the only thing you saw as she disappeared into the crowd of people. great. she left, again.

you instinctively held onto yourself, seemingly recognizing no one at this party. as you waited for sasha, it felt like a few minutes passed by. then ten, then twenty. at this point your back was against a wall, just waiting for your friend to come back. eventually, you decided to just text her.

“dude, where are you? “ 8:15 PM

“SASHAAAAA” 8:18 PM

“omg” 8:26 PM

“how could you do this to me :’(“ 8:32 PM

you sighed, stuffing your phone back into your bag and waiting for your friend to respond. you eventually decided to seek out the booze yourself, going into the kitchen and pouring yourself a cup of fruity looking punch. after all, if you were going to be at a party, you might as well enjoy it, even if you were alone.

you made your way into the backyard, a huge, luscious space that stretched out to every corner of your peripheral. the backyard was much emptier than the inside of the mansion, small groups of people casually chatting instead of the crowds of people chaotically screaming and bumping into you inside. you sipped on your drink as you sat in one of the fancy, structured chairs in the corner of the backyard, hearing the muffled music play from inside the house. it reverberated the mansion. you let the cool night air hit your skin, just trying to feel any semblance of peace right now, being undeniably very stressed.

- - -

eren wasn’t one for parties. but this night was one of the biggest parties of the year, making it hard to pass up. he figured he could use the escape, doing anything he could to not think of you. eren was in the kitchen of the mansion, taking shots with his friends. he needed to forget you. what better way than to drink his worries away, he figured. just this once.

he took a shot, and another shot, and another shot with his friends, feeling his inhibitions slip away. as his inebriation started to settle in, his mind seemingly ended up wandering back to thoughts of you, a painstakingly common occurrence for him. he felt so lonely in this crowd of people. none of them were like you, none of them could ever be like you. you were so sweet, so gentle and kind to him. he felt his heart surge upon thinking of you; only you.

it was only you.

eren didn’t seem to notice whenever you would return from outside, clamoring your way back into the house for whatever reason. as if the timing was off, his back would be turned to you, busy talking with his friends every time you made your way back into the mansion, pouring yourself cup after cup of the punch. each time you got up to get more punch, you could feel yourself wobble more, struggle more.

the night began to get darker as you sat outside, finally coming to the conclusion that you weren’t getting a response from sasha. you had texted her a few more times, but whenever she got drunk, she seemed to forget that her phone existed. figuring she was with her group of friends, you stood up from the seat you had been cushioned in, ready to go home and prepare yourself for another weekend of studying. you stumbled slightly as you got up, not realizing that drinking four cups of that punch would get you this drunk.

everything was hard to see. you looked at your phone, the letters on your screen practically moving, making it hard to focus and type. you sent a quick text to sasha.

“in ggong jhome! :D” 9:36 PM

it was supposed to read, “i’m going home.” close enough, you figured.

you made your way back into the mansion, stumbling through crowds of people, using some random strangers as leverage so you wouldn’t fall. you finally got to the front door, which was cracked wide open, letting you slip out the mansion and into the night.

the walk wasn’t too far, so you figured you could make it on your own.

when you walked into the kitchen, drunkenly stumbling towards the exit, eren’s eyes glowed. you walked by eren, seemingly not even noticing him. it was too hard to pay attention to him though, there were crowds of people, and you were very, very drunk. but eren noticed you. he wondered how long you had been here, what you were even doing here to begin with. were you talking to anybody? flirting with them? the very idea made eren panic. if he knew that you’d be here, he would have spent more time looking for you. he couldn’t look away from you, his mind racing as he was enamored by your effortless charm.

eren noticed that you were wearing a rather cute outfit, one that accentuated the flawless features of your body. it was something he didn’t really see you in too often, if, at all. he also noticed the way you stumbled, losing your footing on seemingly nothing as you bumped into strangers, giggling apologizes at them. god, you looked drunk.

now on his 6th shot, eren couldn’t even think properly. he figured he could say hi to you- that wouldn’t be weird, right? even if it was just a three second conversation, it mattered to eren. every second, every moment with you counted. upon seeing you start to leave, eren made his way out the door, curtly saying goodbye to his friends, just trying to catch up with you. you were just a little faster than him though. as he finally made it to the front door of the mansion, he saw you disappear off into the night on foot, no friends around you.

wait- were you walking home by yourself? in your drunken state?

no- eren wouldn’t let you. who knows what could happen to you? eren wouldn’t take that risk, not even slightly. you needed him right now. briskly, he began to walk in the direction he saw you last. he was rather drunk himself, so he struggled to walk as he attempted to catch up with you, not even seeing where he was stepping. but his strides were long, his footsteps fast; so, he caught up to you in a short amount of time.

you were walking down an isolated street; you hadn’t seen a single car come by so far. the road was long, stretching out farther than you could see, but it led directly to your college. you now realized that the walk was going to be more time consuming than you expected. as you looked up into the sky, there were large, cheap street lights towering above you, lined up haphazardly along the sidewalk. you were trying your best to walk in a straight line, just in case a car did come by- you had to appear as sober as you could. but you couldn’t, you couldn’t walk normally at all.

your ears perked up at the sound of your name being called. your head spun around as you turned to find the source of the noise. the world was spinning, so you couldn’t really see who it was from afar. you should have been more alarmed, but in your drunken state, all you did was watch as the figure approached you, body tensed up. eventually, your eyes relaxed slightly when you realized who it was, eren lightly jogging up to you, trying to catch up to you. you didn’t recognize him without his hoodie and sweats on, wearing a nice flannel and jeans instead. as he walked up to you, the golden light from the street lamp highlighted his features.

“hey. i saw you at the party- you’re walking home by yourself this late at night?” eren said to you, his voice full of concern and dripping with intoxication. he breathed softly, as if he was out of breath. you paid him no mind.

“yes, i am. my house is like, right here, so…” you trailed off, slurring your words.

you were obviously lying. there was nothing around you and eren but roads and a sidewalk, no homes anywhere near the path you were taking. were you sure you were going the right way?

you fully expected eren to part ways with you now, not knowing what he could possibly need from you. you turned back around, and continued to march home, almost tripping over your own feet.

“wait-“ eren stammered, his pace picking up with yours. “are you sure that’s safe?”

you glanced at him silently, but kept walking.

he followed you, continuing. “it’s just- well, there’s a lot of petty crime around here, you should be careful. i-if you want, maybe i can-”

why was he doubting you? did he think you weren’t able to make it home? in your drunken state, you let out some of your annoyance with him, some of the bottled-up feelings you had for him spilling out.

“eren-“ you breath, cutting the boy off and stopping in your tracks. “i’m fine- you really think i can’t walk home?”

“it’s not that, i just- i don’t think you should be alone right now,“ he began, stammering as he spoke.

you huff, clearly exasperated. “and why’s that? i can take care of myself.”

eren’s eyes widened. he felt himself panic, just slightly, unable to understand why it was a bad thing for him to take care of you. “i… well i just…” he murmured, quieting his voice as he seemed to be unable to speak.

you were getting annoyed.

“you just what?” you finally snap, “how did you even know i was walking? were you following me?” you say in an accusatory tone.

eren feels his anxiety surge. what were you insinuating about him? did you really think he was a bad guy? but… would it be bad if he did follow you?

he goes quiet, knowing that anything he says won’t satisfy you. you keep going.

“it’s creepy,” you say, your eyes shooting daggers at him. eren feels his heart drop upon hearing you say those words. it echoes in his brain.

him, creepy?

“i… i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to bother you.” eren said, his eyes darting away from you. he wasn’t sure what he was doing wrong, but he was irritating you, he was scaring you. and he didn’t like it. the two of you stood on the sidewalk, the buzz of the street light filling the harsh silence in the air as it illuminated above you. eren’s expression saddened, like a hurt puppy, as he stared at the floor, not able to meet your gaze.

you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt in your heart, regretting snapping at the man. after all, was he really doing anything wrong? you quickly realized you were just letting out pent up frustrations at him. you knew eren, you knew him well. and you knew he wasn’t like that. you bit your lip, thinking of a way you could fix this.

“n-no, wait. eren, i’m sorry,” you finally say, your voice genuine and remorseful. eren looks up at you, his expression so saddened, so lonely, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him, pitying him. “that wasn’t right of me to say.”

“oh. it’s okay,” eren says. he gives you a weak smile, one mixed with hurt and anguish.

you look at him for a second, the dim yellow light from the street lamp mixing with eren’s eyes. he looked so tired, you noted. you could see the melancholy on his face as he looked into your eyes, searching for something. unsure of what he could want, you slowly turned around, continuing your walk down the road.

eren followed you, his steps a few feet away from yours. whenever you wondered if he left, you could hear his shoes clack against the sidewalk, indicating that he was still following you. you decided not to say anything, not wanting to hurt him for inconceivably no reason again.

eren was lost in thought. you had never gotten that mad at him before, let alone said anything so harsh to him before. what did he do? was it wrong to want to protect you? didn’t you want him to protect you?

he just wanted you to be alright. he would never forgive himself if he knew something happened to you, knowing he could have prevented it. he swallowed his thoughts, his intoxication still very apparent in his body.

he walked, you not once looking back to see if he was still there, still tripping on your own feet. without realizing it, his ideal world of you started to crumble. there were cracks in the foundation; seeds of uncertainty planted inside of eren’s head.

you were doing it again, treating him as if he was a pesky little bug that wouldn’t leave you alone. a wave of sorrow hit him, his life feeling aimless at the mere thought of you not interested in him, or even worse, hating him. what would he do at that point? what if that came true?

eren was getting so, so tired. he just wanted to tell you how much you meant to him, how much he needed you in his life. he felt incomplete without you, as if he was a puzzle missing a piece. there was an emptiness in his heart, one that he knew could be so lovingly and tenderly mended by you.

he needed to tell you. he needed to do it, he had to do it, before these feelings consumed his very essence.

neither one of you spoke to each other as you made the long journey home, both of you seemingly lost in thought. you stopped when you got the complex of your dormitories, deep into the late hours of the night. your feet were sore, walking for what seemed like miles. you turned to eren, not wanting him to go any further.

“see? told you i’d make it here no problem,” you voice slightly slurs as you tell eren, as if trying to prove something to him. you sobered up from your walk, just barely. you could walk in a somewhat straight line now, at least.

he gave you a small smile. he seemed so distracted. as you said goodnight to him, turning around to disappear into the night, eren wrapped his fingers around your arm, gently stopping you in your tracks.

“wait…” eren said, the sadness leaving his face; a soft expression replacing his pain. he focused his eyes on you, his blue-green irises shining bright. “i’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

curiously, you looked at him as he let go of your arm. you stared at him with beautiful eyes as eren hesitated, unsure of how he could phrase his next sentence.

he just went for it.

he breathed. “i like you. like, a lot.”

you just stared at him.

why didn’t you say anything?

he stammered his next sentence, unable to read any indication of feeling in your face as you blankly gazed at him. “i was wondering if you would want to go out sometime-“

“oh eren, i’m sorry. i can’t.” you flatly reply, making eren’s heart twinge.

he felt like his world was falling apart as you turned him down, casting him aside like he was just some inconvenience in your life. you could see just how utterly crushed he was, biting his lip harshly, as if punishing himself for even trying to ask you out. his eyes darkened, the brightness fading from them as he stood there, frozen in place, his heart pounding as you rejected him.

you felt yourself having to explain, trying to let him down softly. “i just- i’m saving myself for the right person. i don’t want a relationship that’s not going to last-“

“we could last,” he commented, as he looked at you with pure pain. “i know we could.” his voice was barely a whisper.

“e-eren, i…” you stammer, a little flustered.

eren says your name, looking into your eyes as if he’s pleading with you, so desperately wanting a chance with you.

“i’d give you everything. you’d be my everything…” eren said, trying to soothe himself with his words. “so please…”

“i’m sorry eren, i just… i just can’t.” you tell him.

“oh…” he trails off.

“…i’ll be waiting, for as long as it takes.” eren said. he paused before he spoke again. “forever, if i need to…”

you would never admit it, not even to yourself, but a tiny blush spread across your face from his words. he was undoubtedly, a little sweet. even though you disliked him, just a little.

eren sadly said goodbye to you, fully intending on skipping class on monday so he didn’t have to go through the shame and embarrassment of seeing you. eren stood there as you left. you walked deeper into the dormitory complexes, finally getting back home after a long day.

eren watched you as you walked away, the tip of your head disappearing down the hill into the complexes. he walked back out the complex, his heart pounding, trying to calm his thoughts.

he did it- he finally confessed- but you didn’t.

he sat on the closest planter he could find, balling his fists into his head, a migraine coming on. he covered his face as small tears formed in his eyes. he wondered what was wrong with him. was it his personality- his appearance? what were you looking for? he could be anything, if it meant you were there with him. eren’s thoughts stilled, his eyes wet with tears as he slid his hands down his face.

he’d wait forever, if he had to. he told you that, and he meant it. for there was no one eren would ever love besides you.

but maybe now was not the time.

nor would it ever be.

maybe he was just meant to love you. maybe you weren’t meant to love him.

you shut your bedroom, kneeling against the door, thinking deeply. your thoughts traveled to eren, your mind unable to not think about him. you realized just how nervous you were now, your palms sweaty and your legs shaking. as you replayed his confession in your brain, you noted how soft his eyes looked when he gazed upon you. his words just seemed so genuine, so truthful; his voice wavering as he silently begged you for just a moment, a chance with you.

you thought of eren as you laid in bed, seemingly sleeping for a few hours, arriving home far too late. you thought of eren as you studied through the weekend, your notes not even making sense to you as you were so distracted. you thought of eren as you walked into your lecture hall days later, a small skip of your heart as you noticed that eren wasn’t here today. you thought of eren as you went home, walking as you imagined him behind you, his footsteps just barely out of sync with yours; reminding you of the day he confessed. you thought of him as you cooked and cleaned. you thought of him the next day, and the day after that.

eren seemingly stopped showing up to class, the last time you saw him was over two weeks ago. you heard from your mutual friends that eren dropped out of his classes. you couldn’t help but think about him, your mind always going back to his confession. what if you had said yes?

you couldn’t help but wonder.

there was a small stab of guilt in your heart every time someone mentioned eren. you felt a little more aimless each day you went into lectures, knowing he wouldn’t be there. you started to sketch small drawings of dinosaurs in your notebook, a little reminder of him.

you didn’t like him, though.

…right?

[lowkeyrobin]

hello!!! i just want to say that i’m in LOVE with the way you write your stories and maybe ask you if you can write a fluffy phoebe spengler/f!reader in which r is in danger and phoebe rushes in to save her (i hc phoebe as lesbian, but if you like to write gn reader, that’s okay!)? :)

ooo sure! ; also I see her as lesbian as well! I just write gn because everyone gets to be included and they/them is the most comfortable for me to write if that makes sense ; thanks for requesting! hope you enjoy :) ; also sorry for making you wait so long for this being so short, writing motiv hasn't existed recently

PHOEBE SPENGLER ; modern fears

summary ; you find yourself in some ghostly trouble and Phoebe saves you

warnings ; language

track ; modern fears, electric youth

word count ; 671

masterlist

You run away from the ghost that was chasing you, or the demon, or ancient God, really. You didn't exactly know, to be fair. Guraka entered the firehouse and had you all, except you, Phoebe, and Podcast, pinned against the walls, freezing as ice spikes nearly pierced their necks.

Podcast hid in the Ecto after his drone was broken into a million pieces by the twenty foot tall demon/God. He hid behind the back seats, trying to save himself. You step back, your proton pack frozen while hers was still working due to the re-working of some of the machine guts.

You hide behind her, watching as she slowly pushes down on the trigger of the proton pack, the machine wirring and spinning as it powers up. She looks back at you, almost trying to convince herself that you'd be fine behind her, like she was protecting you.

You, trying to not be in her way, step to the side, an ice spike quickly pinning you against the wall, grazing your neck. You yelp as you stand on your tippy toes, holding your head up as high as possible. Phoebe, as she squeezes the trigger, looks back again, seeing your trapped self.

"Y/n!" She yells out of fear for you, also trying to shout over the noise in the large garage.

You aren't able to respond, any moving of your larynx would've caused your demise. She looks away again, her feet pushing down on the ground as hard as she could as she tried to fight for you.

She falls back, being defeated as the proton pack guts explode, leaving her defenseless. Melody quickly steps up, her match lit as whoever the random "Fire Master" guy was able to conjure his powers and save the day like some cliche.

In the meantime, Phoebe crawls her way toward you, ditching the proton pack weighing her frostbitten self down. She's covered in snow, the cold wind nipping her cheeks, nose, and lips. She places her hands around the top of the ice spike, trying to break off the tip to help you be able to stand flat and not have to worry about dying.

She pulls and pulls with no luck.

"Pheebs, I can't stand like this much longer!" You exclaim, feet and neck straining.

She grunts, a foot placed against the base of the ice for support. Her bare hands continued to pull and tug at the frozen liquid, her knuckles bright red from the frostbite and force she was placing on it.

She groans as she flies back into the side of the Ecto-1, freeing you just in time as you let go, your toes numb from the frostbite and lack of circulation. Your breathing is staggered and anxious, but you aren't at risk of death any longer.

You cover your ears as you witness a giant beam of light explode at your side, the sound like a thousand strikes of lightning crashing against your feet all at once. You'd probably need hearing aids after this.

As you're freed from the mini cage of ice, Phoebe pulls you into her arms to protect you. You're clearly in pain, ears ringing, fingers frozen. She is too, but cradles you in a hug, her speech inaudible as she speaks to Melody.

You watch with blurry vision while Melody fades into the fabric of the universe, waving goodbye.

You hide your face in Phoebe's shoulder, the light making your new migraine even worse than it already was. Your body heat collides with each other's, becoming your own personal radiators.

After some minutes of waiting to get your senses back, you look up at her. She looks back at you, a soft expression on her face.

"Are you okay?" She asks, hands softly placed on your cold, pale cheeks.

You nod, feeling her slightly warm fingers touch your freezing cheeks. She flinches a bit at the temperature difference.

"Wow, you're cold"

"No shit, Sherlock"

"Actually, Sherlock was a very respectable and smart detective-"

[nanomooselet]

Little but Fierce V

Now, say what you want about Meryl (and I am. And have. And will. At terrifying length) but she doesn't lack for conviction. She may be lacking survival instinct, and sometimes the common sense God gave an eggplant. But never conviction.

She's a scold. But I'll say this about her lectures: there's truth to them, and people feel compelled to justify themselves hearing it.

How can you be so heartless?! Who does this to someone who saved their town twice? It's unthinkable!/How can you be so cruel? You would sacrifice the man who saved your town twice? It's heartless!

How totally lame. It's not an act of kindness. You're just running away from pain./It's lame, not an act of kindness. You just don't want to get hurt. Running away isn't some brave thing to do.

Meryl's got a knack for putting her finger right on the conclusion that others are reluctant to come to about what they're doing - what she's not good at is understanding why they're doing it anyway. Meryl's never had to surrender anything in order to survive. She doesn't know anything about compromise, nor about bending the rules, nor is she aware that one obvious motive can conceal another hidden one. She simply sees a fault and she wants it corrected on demand. And no, crying won't help.

Rosa doesn't want to hand Vash over - she does care about him. But in her mind, a choice between him and her child is no choice at all, and they hang on such a slender thread of resources as it is that they're forced to maximise what they've got however they can. I imagine something similar was what separated Rosa from her husband. Vash completely understands it himself, because it's what Rem believed: her own life or those aboard the fleet? No choice at all.

Similar Vash fleeing the Nebraskas, which both Meryl and the father conclude is cowardice - he's a cream puff, a loser, a weakling who can't fight. Vash is none of those things. He's drawing them away from the town, ensuring there won't be unnecessary casualties and distracting them from, say, stealing the Plant. It doesn't quite work, but it does give them time to reconsider what they're doing and ultimately they change their course. Which, to her credit, Meryl comes to be impressed by, in a... Meryl sort of way.

What a weirdo...

But both Rosa and Vash are fundamentally pragmatists. They understand doing what you have to in order to survive, whatever it takes, because they've both been in circumstances that make those demands a matter of life and death.

Sheltered Meryl, without knowing it, sees a logic that neither one would naturally consider: one that is uncompromising.

It doesn't matter that Rosa is only betraying Vash for the sake of her people - she's still betraying Vash, who has only ever helped her out, and that will demand a reckoning. Similarly Vash trying to misdirect the Nebraskas. They hurt plenty of people and cause a huge mess (and eat up time, which Vash could use to escape what he's really running from…) while he tries to convince them to stand down. If he'd faced them then and there, the town might have been better off.

Because that's the kind of world No Man's Land is. It's one great big double-bind. Either be judged as you dirty your hands and break your principles, or face the judgement of the elements, which do not forgive.

Meryl's perspective is strict, but it's uncomfortably hard to argue against the conclusions she comes to. And both Rosa and Vash know it.

It's interesting that Roberto actually speaks up the second time, though, telling her to cut it out. At the end of ep 2 he's the one who grows annoyed enough with Vash to be the first to ask him "Whose side are you on?" I wonder what made him change his mind?

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

[digitaldoeslmk]

By The Book AU Timeline

[this will be edited as things progress and the au gets more fleshed out]

less of a timeline and more the a brainstorm chart for the plotbeats i have so far

Prince > Little Sage > Pilgrim > Immortal

ACT 1, PRINCE: 2 years, S1 plus some of S2

ep0 special, MK becomes Monkie Kid

Fated Feast (tm) and dealing with it

MK learning how to use his powers

pretty much all the episodes of S1

Beijing Opera sideplot

first New Years is a Lion Dancing competition special

Macaque introduces himself

Spider Queens get exorcised, LBD reveal

Nezha and Muzha introduction

some more filler episodes of Monkie gang dealing with small easy stuff

MK gets invited to meet Guanyin

MK learning the Dao and Dharma, starts cultivation

Macaque causes trouble (basically Shadow Play ep but not), Wukong finds out

spicynoodles start becoming a thing late in the arc

S1 finale special, except it's LBD and some henchmen

Celestial Realm sightseeing moment, introduction to several immortals and gods

ACT 2, LITTLE SAGE: about half a year, part of S2 and a lot of changes

Red Son's investigation gets serious, Nezha is helping

Wukong gets more present to teach MK

most of what's left of S2, with some changes

Yingge and Longnü intro

Tang starts helping MK and Mei with magic

Mei starts training her dragon powers in FFM

Guanyin meets the Monkien gang, reveal of Tang's past reincarnations

MK gets deeper on training with his monkey form and powers

"recollections of red and blue" is set in this arc

DBK and PIF start making amends with Red Son

qpr chimera fully established, Red Son and MK get serious enough to tell their parents about it

more LBD shenanigans

S2 season finale, except not

LBD tries to trap him in a pagoda, everyone joins the fray, MK escapes because Macaque underestimates him, Wukong gets kebabed, Megapolis is lost and the gang flees for their lives

ACT 3, PILGRIM: about half a year, S3 in spirit but almost every plot gets scrapped cus its just filler anyway

they aren't on a ""journey to the west"", they are gathering allies and tools to use against LBD and Macaque

plan is, burn the motherfuckers with the Samadhi fire with the help of the four dragon king's armies to spread the fire with rain, and use some artifacts to then control the fire and put it out

drastic measure but it do be drastic times

LBD used the skeleton key to open the gates of the Diyu, so the world is slowly getting overrun by runaway spirits, as well as channeling the waters from it to freeze the land

apparently Macaque wants to consume every living thing he's trapped to fuel something, and nobody is sure what

anyway it's crisis politics time, nobody is having fun, everything sucks

time to check in with the past pilgrims for advice and some tricks they know, Monkie gang power up time

the dragon king of the north and his family are missing, time to find them

Shen Gongbao intro, he's involved but they figure it out

it's also time to draft some immortals, we love owing favors to people in this house amiright??

Mayor starts to think the henchman career isn't for him, time to dip

he fucks a plan cus he uses a pill of immortality to heal himself but oops the gang needed that

Mayor spills the beans on Macaque's plan, MK gets impulsive and runs off to face LBD

S3 special time except not

MK exchanges himself for the girl LBD got possessed, which builds the group time to wrap up lose ends

final battle time, hoards of the underworld versus whatever immortals got convinced to help despite going against the Jade Emperor's decree

MK sends a clone with his staff before he loses control back to the gang

Mei in dragon form fighting possessed MK, so that Red Son and Nezha can take a shot at MK to exorcise LBD out of him, Erlang and Muzha helping to hold Macaque back

MK gets shot with the Samadhi Fire, to explosive results

MK vs Macaque kaiju monkey battle time

Macaque gets nuked, LBD gets carbonized, Mayor dies saving people from the city before the fires get to them

everything is put back where it belongs, but there's a lot of loose ends to wrap up, ends in a bittersweet note

ACT 4, IMMORTAL: two years, S4 solely in name, basically a full overhaul lmao

oh man oh man shits gonna hit the fan lmao

the city is saved and the bad guys are gone; time for Consequences

Jade Emperor isnt very happy with the amount of unauthorized actions taken just now

MK goes to fucking trial for the crime of saving the world, it goes as well as one would think

luckily Guanyin comes in clutch and gets his sentence lightened to "community service"

there is an absurd amount of undead still walking around, which means MK has to get on that

also yknow. the devastating amount of damage in the mortal AND celestial realm

MK is given an assignment in the heavenly bureocracy, to help keep him in check and accountable to stuff. is great innit.

another part of his job is, dealing with Wukong's past sworn brotherhood cus they've been uppity since Macaque's attack and threatening to break the human-demon truce

Qi "two dads nuclear family" Xiaotian learns to deal with distant extended family relations with very specific social cues. again, goes as well as expected

under all that, Red Son still hasn't been able to get the missing memories situation fixed

also turns out even Wukong doesn't remember who MK was but he used to know. he doesn't anymore. and he doesn't know what happened. Red Son did not like learning that.

the celebration of Ulhambana in the Celestial Realm is approaching, and Red Son thinks he can get himself and MK invited to it so they can yknow, ask Buddha wtf is going on

so yknow, time to earn the trust of the Celestial Realm again, in a year. that's doable right? ahahah

and because he doesn't have enough on his plate, MK traded off a lot of his merits in exchange for LBD and Mayor speedrunning their time in hell so they can be reborn under his care

MK becomes An Uncle, what could possibly go wrong!

oh, jumpscare, Macaque is still around but Different

[happi-tree]

i hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this)

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I don’t know what came over me, you’re just so hurt and I was so scared and I didn’t know what to do and -”

Link cuts himself off as he glances up from Taylor’s still-glazed expression to his forehead. Before his eyes, the gash stitches itself closed, the open wound fading to a pink scar that pales to white before disappearing entirely.

Lincoln remembers hearing the words “kiss it better” throughout his entire childhood. He remembers the way his dads would patch up his scraped knees with ointment and a bandage and top it all off with a tiny kiss before treating him to a hard candy from their first aid kit for being such a good boy.

Never once had Link thought that the phrase could be literal. Or that his newfound powers could make it literal.

Or: Link discovers a rather unorthodox way of using Lay On Hands thanks to one Taylor Swift, and for some reason, he can’t seem to stop finding excuses to perfect his new skills. Fortunately, Taylor is more than happy to help.

once / twice / thrice, pt. 1 / thrice, pt. 2

twice (‘cause it’s gonna be alright)

The second time it happens, it’s not an accident. 

Taylor invited Link to his house on the pretense of doing homework together (who knew saving the world meant having so many late assignments?) and maybe watching some anime later. 

It had taken Link some convincing at first, but Taylor thinks he’s finally got him hooked on Blue Lock: Keyed Up!!! (which is good, considering it’s the only soccer anime that Taylor’s watched). 

Unfortunately, though, homework comes first. Which sucks, because there are about a million and one better things that a protagonist like him could be doing, but he doesn’t want to worry his mom about his grades slipping any further.

Plus, Taylor missed an additional afternoon’s worth of classes yesterday for a long-overdue orthodontist appointment (his jaw aches at the reminder), so he has extra extra make-up work. Ugh. 

At least Link’s passable at science. Normally, Scary could make up some pretty good answers for all of them for their English work, but she’s out recording some stuff for Erica’s podcast. Normal has cheer practice, so Taylor doesn’t really have much hope for his pile of Spanish worksheets, but at the very least, he and Link are making progress. 

Very slow progress. 

Taylor accidentally clenches his jaw a little too hard, and the ache in his teeth intensifies from there-but-tolerable to fucking-hell-it-feels-like-someone-is-wrenching-my-upper-jaw-in-two-holy-shit.

He makes a quiet, whimpering sort of noise, and Link looks up from his work immediately, eyebrows all scrunched together and lips downturned in concern. It would be cute if Taylor could focus on anything other than the agony plaguing his mouth.

“You okay, dude?” he asks, shifting closer on Taylor’s king-size mattress.

“Nnnnnnn,” Taylor moans, shaking his head ever so slightly and flopping back against the pillows dramatically (but carefully, so as not to accidentally make the pain worse somehow). “Teeth hurt.”

“Oh, right, you got your braces adjusted yesterday,” Link gently moves their notebooks and laptops to the side, where they won’t get crushed. 

Taylor’s eyes squeeze shut as he tries to do anything but focus on the ache. “Mmm,” he confirms. “And I think maybe my fangs might be growing in? Hard to tell, but I keep accidentally cutting my tongue on my canines, so I think they’re getting sharper.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Link says, and the sincerity in his voice brings a smile to Taylor’s face, which he cuts off with a wince because fuck, ow, that hurt.

“Would be cooler if my entire mouth didn’t hurt like hell, though,” Taylor grumbles. 

He opens his eyes to find Link hovering over him, looking worried and… hesitant?

“Jeez, Link, I’m not dying or anything. The torment is endless and the agony neverending, but I will persevere! Ah, fuck,” Taylor mutters, pressing a hand to his cheek, which only seems to make matters worse.

Link’s still looking at him like that, though, so he makes grabby hands to beckon him closer.

“Cuddles would maybe help, though, if you’re just gonna sit there,” he offers.

“I can work with that,” Link says, laughing a little under his breath and leaning back on the pillows beside him. 

He opens up his arms and Taylor wedges himself between them, tucking his head under Link’s chin and burying the top portion of his face into his chest, right below his collarbones. He inhales, trying to focus on the smell of laundry detergent and fresh-cut grass and sports deodorant and sweat and something uniquely Link rather than the pain in his jaw, and it works a little.

Link’s arms come around to encircle him, and while Taylor can feel stifled by skin-to-skin contact (he already has enough trouble regulating his own body heat without throwing someone else’s into the mix), the way Link holds him feels… nice. Protective. Link begins to trace tiny, meaningless circles into his back with his thumbs through the fabric of Taylor’s shirt, and the sensation grounds him. 

Taylor quietly realizes that he hasn’t felt this safe in a long time. 

His mouth still hurts like a bitch, though.

As if on cue, another pulse of pain floods his mouth, and Taylor instinctively clenches his jaw against the feeling, which in hindsight was pretty stupid because it makes the ache intensify tenfold. Taylor lets out a whine into Link’s chest, clutching helplessly at his best friend’s shirt. 

He fantasizes somewhat deliriously about taking his teeth and chucking them out of his face where they can’t hurt him.

“That seems like it must be pretty painful,” Link says sadly.

“Nnnnnnnngh,” Taylor replies because yeah, no shit, Sherlock-kun.

“You know,” Link starts out, tone still soft but much more considering, more nervous. Taylor can feel the vibration of Link’s voice against the top of his head, right where it’s pressed against his taller friend’s throat. “I think I can fix that, if you want.”

Taylor pulls away a bit, and Link loosens his hold to allow for some space.

“Well, why didn’t you say so earlier?” Taylor asks. “I know I look totally awesome and composed on the outside, but I am fucking perishing inside. Yes, please, whatever your idea is, I will literally do anything. What were you thinking of, though?”

“Well,” Link says, voice pitching high, “I was thinking, I could, uh. Kiss it better? Like I did last week, if you remember that?” He looks briefly down at Taylor, as he says this, scanning his face for… something. “Oh my god, it would be so embarrassing if you didn’t remember that. Never mind, this is so stupid, sorry, forget I said anything.”

Except Taylor doesn’t really hear that last part because he’s too busy reliving the feeling of Link’s chapped lips pressed against his temple, callused hands cradling the back of his head, big brown eyes that look like black holes in the darkness of sun-off threatening to swallow Taylor completely. 

Does Taylor remember last week? That’s like asking someone if they remember that the sky is red. Taylor remembers last week annoyingly well, and he keeps remembering it, and the scene plays and replays as the hellfire within his ribcage flares and the heat rises and he looks up at Link who’s still working himself into some anxiety-ridden ramble and -

Cool it, cool it, part of his mind whispers to him. 

Link offered to kiss me, an irritatingly large amount of his brain shrieks back at him, uncool and uncharacteristically nervous and taking up more mental real estate by the second. Boy hugging me boy touching me boy kissing me?

You just need to calm down, the more rational part of his brain assuages. You’re Taylor Swift, you’ve got this.

I’m Taylor Swift, I’ve got this. Taylor mentally chants, strongarming the fire in his chest and turning the flame down to something a bit more bearable. I’ve got this. I’m popular, I’m icy cool, and anyone would be lucky to kiss me. I’ve got this.

Brain successfully rebooted, Taylor nudges at Link’s shoulder, stopping his friend’s mutterings in their tracks.

“As long as you haven’t talked yourself out of it, I’m, like, totally down if you’re still offering. You severely underestimate how desperate I am for pain relief.”

“Oh,” Link says, eyebrows drawn up in surprise. Then, “Really?”

“Yeah, oh,” Taylor echoes back. “Really. The only thing is… don’t you usually have to touch whatever’s hurt for it to work? And like, it’s my teeth, so…”

“Yeah, and?” Link prompts, like he isn’t quite seeing any problem with that and.

Oh.

Oh, Link means kissing kissing. Like, on the mouth. And to get at Taylor’s teeth… that’s like making-out-kissing. Oh, god. Oh my god, okay. This is fine. Sure! Great.

“Oh,” Taylor says aloud. Then, “Okay!”

“Are you sure? About this?” Link questions, searching Taylor’s expression even as he places a slightly-clammy hand to Taylor’s cheek, even as Taylor’s face feels like it lights on fire in response. The clear concern in the upturn of his brows and the gleam in his dark eyes has Taylor humming in assent before he realizes what he’s doing and placing his hand atop Link’s larger one, holding him there as Taylor’s gaze is drawn to his slightly parted lips.

“For the love of god, Link, just kiss me already.”

“Okay,” Lincoln says, quiet and slightly unsteady. And he closes the gap.

It’s clear that this is Link’s first kiss, and Taylor’s pretty sure Link can tell that it’s the first time he’s kissed someone, too (well, someone that isn’t his body pillows).

Link’s lips feel softer against Taylor’s than they had against his forehead. He’s tentative and shy and exceedingly gentle, and Taylor’s unsure if that’s out of the fear of causing him undue pain or if it’s just who Link is, but he appreciates it either way.

 Link’s thumb strokes delicately across Taylor’s cheek, almost reverently, like he’s afraid that Taylor will break apart in his arms if he doesn’t treat him with care. Link’s other hand comes to rest at the side of his neck, threading through the hair that’s escaped Taylor’s topknot, and the feeling of it paired with the light press of Link’s lips against his own draws another humming sound from his throat.

Taylor tries his best to reciprocate, mouth pliant against Link’s, free hand fisting in the soft, slippery fabric of his best friend’s shirt and tugging gently as if to bring him in even closer. His other hand moves from atop Link’s to cradle the back of his head and run his fingers through his close-cropped hair.

Link makes a low, soft sort of noise that will no doubt be replaying for weeks on end in Taylor’s head. God, he needs to hear that sound again.

Sadly, though, they’ve run out of air, and Lincoln pulls away only to lean back in and carefully rest his forehead against Taylor’s.

Taylor’s eyelids blink open (oh, he had closed them, when had that happened?) and he comes face-to-face with Link, brown eyes deep and dark, half-lidded and half-dazed, staring directly at him with open affection. His hand still rests on Taylor’s cheek, and Taylor can feel the stark temperature difference there, anxiety-chilled and demonically-overheated, as something flutters hard in his chest.

“Uh, wow,” Link says, quiet and very breathless, and God, who gave him the right to be so beautiful and so adorable at the same time?

Taylor draws his lip in between his teeth and is greeted with a sharp stab of pain.

“Ow, fuck, shit,” Taylor hisses, scooching back to put more distance between the two of them. “Guess that didn’t work, but thanks for trying, Link. You out of spell slots or something?”

With Link’s complexion, it can be difficult to tell when his friend is flushed or flustered, but his wide eyes and cringing expression definitely come across as embarrassed.

“No,” he replies, voice a few octaves higher than normal. “I, uh, forgot? To do the spell.”

At Taylor’s quirked eyebrow, Link elaborates, “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t accidentally hurt you more, and then I got so wrapped up in that that I guess I forgot, and then you did that thing with your hand in my hair, and -” he cuts himself off with a whine, covering his eyes with a hand and dramatically rolling over, the picture of mortification. “Kill me now.”

Taylor laughs, loud and sudden and sharp despite the pain, and Lincoln curls a little further into himself. 

“I can just, uh - I made it weird, I can just go, I guess?” Link says in that reedy, nervous way of his, voice cracking toward the end as he sits up, moves to stand -

“Dude,” Taylor clambers across the mattress after him, grabs his wrist. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I-“ Link gestures with his thumb toward the door. “Home? I mean, I screwed up, and you laughed, and now you probably think I’m so stupid and-“

“Hold up, handsome,” where did that pet name come from - “I wasn’t laughing at you- I mean! I was,” Taylor watches as Link’s expression droops further “- but not to make fun of you! It’s just…” Come on, just say it, you’ve never had trouble speaking your mind before - “endearing.”

Link looks more confused and anxious than anything, but that’s better than sad and anxious, so Taylor takes that as a win. 

“Plus, you’re not getting away from me that easy, Li-Wilson,” He adds, tugging his friend a little closer. Link doesn’t resist it.

Taylor allows a smile to pull at his lips, only flinching a little bit at the pain he now expects. “You can try again, you know,” he offers, looking up at Link through his lashes. 

“I can?” His friend asks, skin flushed darker across his cheeks. “I didn’t make it too awkward?”

“Nope!” Taylor responds, popping the “p.” 

“Nothing awkward about a good old-fashioned makeout session with your best friend!”

“Best friend,” Link echoes, “Right…”

“C’mon,” Taylor goads, crooking a finger toward him as he smirks. “I don’t bite.”

Taylor’s gaze lowers from Link’s face and rests at the side of his friend’s neck, taking note of the sparse freckles there. His teeth feel a little heavier in his mouth.

“Not unless you want me to,” he murmurs. 

“What?” Link asks, sounding strangled. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Taylor evades.

“If you’re really sure -“

“I am,” Taylor confirms, moving to sit half-gracelessly in his friend’s lap, hands steadying his weight on Link’s strong shoulders. “Now, less tally-talky, more smoochy-smoochy!”

“So demanding,” Link teases, even as he threads his fingers through his hair again. Taylor can hear the smile in his voice without having to look - which is good, because if he did, he’s pretty sure he’d give into the impulse to kiss the curve of his lips without preamble.

“You bet.” Taylor’s voice comes out much breathier than he expects as he meets Link’s eyes. “Don’t forget the spell this time!”

“I won’t! Probably.” 

Just like before, Link leans in again, and a slight smile pulls at Taylor’s lips as he meets him halfway. 

The sensation of Link’s lips against his own is a little less foreign now, a little less startling. Taylor lets himself melt into it, and just before he closes his eyes he can see the adorable little furrow of concentration between Link’s brows that he gets whenever he’s casting something. 

Kissing his best friend tastes like vanilla chapstick and Taylor’s favorite soda. Link had snagged a bottle of lychee Ramune out of his hands earlier, saying something about how carbonation was bad for braces and offering his homemade sports drink instead (which hadn’t tasted too great but wasn’t quite as bad as Taylor had expected). Taylor finds that he doesn’t really mind, now - not when the flavor is even more addictive this way.

Link’s hands come up to cradle the sides of Taylor’s face like some sort of fairytale prince, firm and gentle and insistent all at once. The soft pressure of his friend’s fingertips ghosts along the jut of his jawline, and it’s almost worshipful, like Link sees Taylor as someone to be adored. 

The tenderness of it all sends a thrill down Taylor’s spine, and then the chill spreads, unfurling itself through every nerve. 

Taylor has been on the receiving end of Link’s magic before, but he’s rarely lucid enough to appreciate it, to bask in the comforting coolness his friend’s Lay On Hands brings. It’s less like running an open cut under cold water and more like a fresh breeze in the middle of a stagnant summer afternoon, he thinks, something blissful and relieving that reminds him of safety, just like the boy he’s kissing. He falls forward into the embrace - both the spell and Link’s affection - as his hands tangle themselves in the back of Link’s athletic shirt, chasing the feeling. Link’s magic is a deeply soothing sensation, a balm to Taylor’s flushed cheeks and fire-bright nerves and burning heart, and he can feel himself melt in Link’s hold, his thoughts reducing to little more than a warm haze against his lips.

Link pulls away after what probably amounted to only a few moments, and Taylor leans after him on instinct. His eyes flutter open just in time to see Link gazing down at him fondly through his lashes, the last dregs of his magic sparking across his irises in anvil-sharp flashes of bronze before fizzling out entirely. His lips are slightly kiss-bruised, and it sends a jolt of satisfaction through Taylor’s stomach as he realizes that he did that.

“Did it work this time?” Link asks him, still cradling Taylor’s face in his hands, thumbs still grazing lightly across his cheeks.

It takes a few seconds for Taylor to register the question, then a few more as he prods at the back of his teeth with his tongue, clenches his jaw experimentally.

“Looks like it!” He confirms happily, though his joy sours a bit as Link’s hands leave his face to lean back on his arms, mourning the loss of contact.

“You’re a genius, Link,” Taylor praises, smiling and then smiling wider when he realizes that he feels no pain whatsoever. “Think you could do that again whenever my joints are acting up?”

He doesn’t really mean it - of course, a bigger part of him than he’d like to admit does, but his tone was supposed to come off as teasing - but Link’s eyes go wide and his cheeks darken further, and maybe Taylor wouldn’t mind at all if his friend takes that one hundred percent seriously.

“I- I mean, if you want t- If it’d help?” He fumbles, face flushing further as he stutters. It’s pretty commonplace to see Link a bit flustered, but it’s different when Taylor knows that he’s the reason for it. It’s pretty cute, in his opinion. 

“It’d do more than help. Chronic pain sucks ass, but you’d be, like, my personal angel,” Taylor says, looking up at Link. 

You already are, his mind adds for him. 

“Sure, then. Anytime. Uh, that’s what friends are for, right?” Link asks, those big brown eyes of his searching Taylor’s face for something.

He said “anytime”, is Taylor’s only coherent thought, one that runs giddy circles in his brain. I kissed Lincoln Li-Wilson. Twice. I just kissed my best friend twice. He said he’d kiss me again. God, I want to kiss him again. 

“Mm,” Taylor half-responds, still reeling from the way Link’s hands carded through his hair and smoothed over his cheeks and the way their lips slotted together. 

“Oh,” Taylor hears Link say distantly. “Okay, that’s, um. Okay.”

“Mm,” Taylor hums again, still in the process of rebooting what’s left of his brain.

A hand waves in front of Taylor’s face. “Taylor? You okay there, buddy? Did I do the spell wrong somehow? Please tell me I didn’t break you.”

You can break me anytime, Taylor thinks, mind conjuring images he definitely should not be having this close to the subject of his fantasies.

Taylor shakes his head in attempt to clear them. “All good, my man! Just, uh, thinking.” He desperately hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels.

“Wanna get back to homework, then?” Link says, gesturing to the pile of notebooks. “I think one of our make-up quizzes is due tonight.”

“Oh, shit, I forgot about that. We should probably get back to studying, huh.” He scoots away from Link to grab a notebook and his laptop, and for once in his life he misses the body heat of having a person next to him.

“Okay,” Link says, patting the empty space next to him and propping himself up against Taylor’s headboard.Taylor complies, settling himself into place at his side and handing him a pen (ballpoint, blue ink, Link’s favorite kind). He finds his own (a click pen, black gel ink) after a few moments of feeling around on the comforter.

“We’re still on chapter seven, right?” He asks, chewing on the end of his pen as he attempts to decipher the chicken scratch that is his own handwriting. 

“Unfortunately,” Link sighs, slinging his left arm around Taylor’s shoulders. 

As Taylor leans into Link’s side, he thinks that even though make-up work is bound to be hell, there are much less fortunate things than this. He smiles to himself, and it doesn’t hurt one bit.