#it's more like enjoy thing immediately forget about it maybe remember at some point?

[schattenwerfenkeineschatten]

tag people you'd like to get to know better

tagged by: @escapedartgeek (thank you!) tagging: @oddlies, @songandflame, @vuulpecula, @scrivellc, @reverdies, @multivcrsity, @sevensaith & you

favourite colour(s): grey, bottle green, black, orange, pink, lavender (stealing loved ones' favourite colours as i go)

favourite flavour(s): chili, whiskey, holy basil

favourite music: feel free to scroll through my endless playlists for clues

favourite movie(s): little shop of horrors, the rocky horror picture show, what we do in the shadows, the handmaiden, the court jester, the house that jack built, la cité des enfants perdus, müllers büro, fear and loathing in las vegas, the comedy of terrors, murder by death, everything monty python

favourite series: good omens, sandman, hannibal, killing eve, better call saul, monk, der tatortreiniger, dracula, taskmaster

last song: vivaldi by faber

last series: blue eye samurai

last movie: the wonderful story of henry sugar

currently reading: sapiens by yuval noah harari, blood on the fog by tongo eisen-martin

currently watching: the minutes tick by

currently working on: popping bubble wrap

[eucalyptus-lvs]

Your Girl? - Carmen Berzatto x Reader

When I first started writing this it was going to be a stand-alone, but I could also see it as a pt. 2 to Good Luck Charm. Either way, I hope you enjoy it. If you have any thoughts or constructive criticism it's always appreciated. May not be the most canon portrayal of Carmy, but after S3 I need some happy moments. - Elli <3

TW: None. Maybe a suggestive comment or two.

Walking into The Beef you’re immediately hit with the smell of fresh bread and cooked meat. Before you can even make it to the counter Richie's face breaks into a bright smile as he spots you. "You're not supposed to be in today. Couldn't stay away from me, sweetheart?"

Most people found him to be rough around the edges, maybe even misogynistic, but you preferred to think of him as old-fashioned. 

The two of you grew close in the time you spent working together.

Although you started as a dishwasher, Mikey had switched you to the front after two weeks of working there when Richie almost made a kid cry for trying to order a hotdog with ketchup. You quickly learned that your new job was about keeping the peace and making things run as smoothly as the people around you would allow. 

Regardless, it was hard to see the man in front of you as a bad guy after watching him get on his knees to put a Hello Kitty bandaid on Eva's hand at a time when she was adamant about being “champion of the monkey bars”.

"Oh, I never wanna be away from you, honey." You share a laugh. "I just came by to drop something off for the boss. Then I'll be on my way."

"He's in the back if you wanna go on through."

"So I can get sucked into the vortex of chaos on my day off? I don't think so." The fighting has slowed down a bit at the restaurant, but it was still pretty busy. Guaranteeing that the energy level was always high. 

"Good point. I’ll tell him you're here." 

“Thanks, Rich.” You move to stand off to the side in a less crowded part of the restaurant. Taking out your phone, you check the time as you watch him retreat into the back. 

If you make this quick you can still get to the coffee place a couple blocks over before it closes for the day.

After a moment you see them both enter from the kitchen. Richie goes back to the register to attend to the customers, while Carmy heads your way.

"Hey. Richie said you had somethin' for me?" Wiping his hands on a towel and tossing it over his shoulder as he approached you. “Everything okay?”

"Yeah. I was getting ready this morning and saw this on the bathroom counter." You reach into your pocket to pull out a gold chain.

His gold chain.

Dangling between you both from your fingers.

"Shit, I don't even remember takin' it off." Grasping it from your hand to undo the clasp and put it on.

"That's because I did right before we got in the shower. I'm surprised it's still together with all the wear and tear you put it through."

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for droppin’ it off. I coulda stopped by tonight though. After I close up?" The phrasing of his statement sounding more like a question.

"I was close by. I wanted to try that coffee shop down the street I was telling you about." You took a step toward him and whispered, "As for tonight, you know I want you over, but we're gonna have to make an effort to get some actual rest before we both develop a sleeping disorder."

"You seem to be doin’ just fine.” A grin broke out on his face.

"Did you forget the part where I told you I have to go get coffee?" You reminded disapprovingly.

"Okay, I get it. Sleep sounds really fuckin' good right now actually." He ran a hand through his hair as he paused. "You eat somethin' already?"

You break eye contact to look around the room aimlessly and avoid the question until your eyes land back on him. “....Huh?”

“We talked about this. You can’t starve yourself all day and then do your fuckin’ girl dinner shit when you get home.”

“First of all, you will never know the joys of girl dinner because you refuse to participate. It's the most well-balanced meal I'm capable of. Second, I've been running around all day and I forgot.”

“First of all, the fact that you call a plate with butter noodles, kimchi, a hard-boiled egg, and some red cherries ‘the most well-balanced meal you're capable of’ is scary. It's really fuckin’ scary. Second, I know you're busy. I'm a chef! What kinda asshole do I look like lettin’ my girl eat like that because you refuse to let me cook you somethin’?” He shot back, growing exasperated with the topic at hand.

“It literally covers all the major food groups! Wait-” You paused, tilting your head. Only just processing his full statement. “your girl?”

You can see the exact moment he processes it too. His eyes widened in panic. “Uh I-I meant, I mean we’ve kinda been-”

“Oh my god, you poor baby boy. You're blushing.” A smirk grows on your face.

“Fuck off” His eyes focusing on the floor, shaking his head. The heavy blush spread up his neck as well as his face.

“I'm afraid I can't do that at this particular moment, but maybe we both will later after you ask me to be your girlfriend.” You replied in a sing-songy voice. “Yknow for future reference you typically ask someone when you want to be exclusive with them.”

He leaned closer to you, eyebrows furrowing as he lowered his tone so he wouldn't be overheard. “I-I thought we've been exclusive. I haven't seen anyone else since you.” 

“I haven't either, but I guess if you want it to stay that way you're gonna have to ask me and make this official. Unless,” You lean away, kissing your teeth as you cross your arms. “you're too scared?”

“You know what? I'm not gonna ask.”

“Wow, you've already backed out. You sure there's not some other girl I should know about?” You mocked, knowing he barely had the time and energy to keep up with you. 

Even if he did, you knew there was no one else. Spending most of your nights at each other's place testing new recipes or wrapped up together in the early hours of the morning before the restaurant needed attending. 

That's why it never occurred to you to define what this is. He was making an active effort to have a life outside of the restaurant and he was doing it with you. 

That doesn't mean you couldn't enjoy making him sweat a little though.

“What?! No. I'm not asking because you're gonna ask me.”

“I’m gonna ask you to be my girlfriend?”

“No, smart-ass.” He let out a breathy chuckle, gesturing vaguely. “Your yknow- boyfriend.”

“Well, that's never gonna happen.” You stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why not?”

“Because you're right. I should get a boyfriend that’ll take care of me and all my food-related needs.” Shrugging your shoulders you wave a hand in the direction of the register. Shouting, “RICH-”

“Stop.” He cut you off, raising his hand. “That's not even funny.”

“Oh, come on. It's a little funny.” You giggle, nudging his arm with your hand.

Shaking his head, he leads you to a table to sit down. “I've gotta get back in there.” Leaning close to your ear he whispers, “Sit tight while I make somethin’ for my girl.” Cupping the underside of your jaw with his calloused hand, he places a quick kiss on your cheek before walking off. 

You smile as you watch him disappear past the doors and back into the kitchen. 

You weren't gonna make it to the coffee shop today, but that was okay. Maybe you could go together on your way to work tomorrow.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Richie came up and put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing. “You call for me?”

You put your hand over his and squeezed back. Looking up at him you replied, “Just fuckin’ with Carm.”

“Good girl.”

[themultifandomgal]

Can you do a cute/funny Jay Halstead x reader where reader is Trudy’s niece and when she find out they’re dating, Trudy says something like “detective chuckles?! Really?!” And gently picks on them ♥️ add some cute domestic fluff about maybe moving in together and designing shared space?

Jay Halstead- Love Must Be Blind

I really enjoyed this one, making Trudy just picking on Jay but secretly she's really happy for them. I hope you all enjoy this one. It’s just a small one really but cute nonetheless.

YN and Jay met through YN’s aunt, Trudy who works at the police station. It started out with YN bringing baked goods for everyone from her bakery. Over time YN got aquatinted with everyone, especially Jay. He would come into her bakery every day for breakfast, always ordering the same thing. Eventually Jay plucked up the courage to asked YN on a date, five months later and they are officially boyfriend and girlfriend, however no one knew about their relationship, that is until today.

Jay had insinuated that he had a girlfriend and everyone had been trying to guess, but so far no one had got it right.

Jay had forgotten his lunch, so YN decided to drop it off, forgetting that her aunt was working today. As YN arrived at the station Trudy watched from a distance as her niece greeted Jay with a smile

“Hey you forgot lunch so I thought I’d drop it off for you”

“Thanks your a life saver. It’s going to be a late one tonight”

“That’s ok. I’ve got Jen covering the shop today so I can make us food for later” YN leans up and places a kiss on Jay’s cheek which causes her aunt to clear her throat “crap I forgot about aunt Trudy working today” YN whispers to Jay who laughs in response

“Detective Chuckles really? My niece?” Trudy raises a brow at the detective “and you” she then points to YN “we shall be having a chat later about… this” rolling her eyes at her aunt, YN places another kiss on Jays cheek before saying her goodbyes and leaving.

Later that evening when Jay returns back to his place he finds his girlfriend dancing in the kitchen. He immediately wraps his arms around her making her giggle

“Smells wonderful”

“Thanks. How was the rest of your day?” Groaning Jay leans his head in the crook of her neck “that bad?”

“Your aunt is a menace”

“Oh tell me about it” YN spins round in Jays arms to face him “she rang me and told me, and I quote, ‘love really must be blind’ which I of course told her how amazing you really are”

“She hates me. She’s been giving me grief all day, making me do silly jobs for her”

“She doesn’t hate you. You have to remember that after mum passed away she took on that roll”

“I can grantee she does hate me” YN rolls her eyes at her boyfriend

“You wanna know what she said to me on the phone ‘Jay is a good man, I don’t think I’d trust anyone more than him’ just give her some time”

“I love you, you know”

“I love you too, but I won’t love you if you make me burn our supper because I’m starving” YN gently pushes Jay away who goes to wash his hands in his sink

“What would you like me to do?”

“Chop the chicken? You know I hate touching raw meat”

“Of course. Anything for you”

After their food had been cooked and eaten and the dishes had been cleaned, YN and Jay made their way to bed. YN lies on Jays chest, just listening to the thump of his heartbeat when he suddenly speaks

“I’ve been thinking”

“Oh no” YN jokes

“Oi” Jay tickles YNs side making her laugh

“Ok ok I’m sorry. Carry on” YN now leans up so she can see jays face clearly

“You and I are practically always with each other and now your aunt knows about us, I was just wondering if you’d maybe like to move in together?” Jay asks nervously. YNs smile grows wide “you don’t have to move in here, I could move into your place, or we could get our own, then it would be like…” YN plants her lips of Jays who finally stops talking “is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes. I love you Jay”

“I love you too YN”

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

[eustasskidagenda]

omg hi hi! i adore your writing so much :3! if its alright with you, could i get headcanons for how crocodile, law, kid, and ace would be with an autistic s/o who loves to infodump, but is nervous to do so. theres always this odd bit of shame that accompanies infodumping for me because i get so excited i cant properly articulate myself *lays down* its just a mess of stimming, stuttering, and laughing at my own jokes. i feel embarrassed after, even if its totally an illogical response. im unsure if you write for autistic y/n so feel free to ignore this if you dont. thank you so much <33

☆Crocodile, Law, Kid & Ace with an autistic s/o who loves to info dump 

Hello, dear anon! I'm not used to write autistic y/n, because I don't know enough about this and I wouldn't like to be harmful. However, the situation you're describing is something close to ADHD, which I know well. So I've made some additional researches to be sure and come up with something, I hope you will like it. Thank you for your request, it was a sweet one ♡

CW : g/n reader, slight curses for Kid, fluff 

WC : Around 1,500 words

Crocodile 

Crocodile doesn't talk much, he's always serious and quiet. It's just that he's often thinking about his business and plans. But he's a good observer and would immediately notice if you want to say something but are too nervous to do it. He knows you perfectly, so he would recognize the way you're fidgeting.

He's a man with good manners, so his first reflex would be to lock the door and make sure no one can enter and destabilize you. When it's done, he will point his chair towards you.

"Sit. I'm listening, y/n." 

Actually, he likes hearing you speak during hours. He knows it's a way to express your love and feelings. He's flattered that you want to share your world with him. Go ahead and speak, he will listen. Even if he's just nodding or commenting short sentences in response, he has a good memory and will remember everything you said to him. 

If you're talking too fast and start to get really flustered, he will let you know that you're speaking too fast, like 'y/n, what did you just say?' 

Your hyper-focus and info-dumping are appreciated by Crocodile because he enjoys learning new things and you're a source of knowledge. Maybe he's impassive and struggles to express his feelings, but sometimes you will hear him talk about what he learned with you, so clearly he listened to every single word. 

"Don't be ashamed, it was interesting. Can we talk more about this specific point?" 

If you say something that he is really curious about, he has no shame asking for more. It's a way for him to express his genuine care for you. For him, it's a way to prove to you that even though he's always quiet, he cares.

Law

Law is similar to Crocodile in his lack of emotional expression and limited speech. He is always busy, struggling with his parasitic thoughts and taking care of his patients. Finding some private time with you is a challenge for him. 

If you run into Law with excitement about your passion or new hyper-focus, he may feel embarrassed because it's not the perfect time for him. Autism is something he knows about, and he is an intelligent and educated man. And, he wants to make you feel safe and comfortable. 

"I'll be yours in a moment, y/n-ya."

He has a complete understanding of you and is an excellent observer. The way you're already blushing, fidgeting, and swallowing nervously. He can even hear your heart racing. So first thing first, he will tell you to take a deep breath. After all, he’s a doctor. 

"What do you wanna talk about?" 

As Crocodile, he's a great listener. When you're full of passion and excitement, he thinks you're cute. He likes the sound of your voice. He loves when you want to find him and talk about your passion, because you're offering him a break from his work. If you weren't there, he would be stuck either in work or in his own head. When he's with you, he can forget about his dream of avenging. You're his safe place, truly. 

He doesn't speak a lot. But he is listening.M and asks questions from time to time.

"Yn-ya, there's been no urge. Take your time." And if you're stuttering a lot, he would just say nothing because it's pointless to make a remark, as long as he can understand what you're saying, he will never say something about your elocution. 

"That's interesting, where did you learn that much?" 

Law is a curious and intelligent man, so he likes to learn more about almost everything. If it can help him with his plans or maybe his patients, it might even be beneficial for him.

During your bedtime together, he would ask you to talk about your passions. The way you talk and laugh is like his own lullaby. When you speak, he can find inner peace because it shuts down all the voices in his head. He might fall asleep sometimes when he feels tired. It's just that you're providing him with some relief. When he wakes up, he would be deeply sorry. "So, yesterday, you stopped at this precise point… what were you trying to say after?"

Kid 

Kid is so goddamn loud. And really passionate. He's focused on his goal of becoming the next PK and has loved mechanics and robotics since childhood. He would be aggressively sweet, like frowning when he notices how stressed and nervous you act towards him. "Hey, Y/N, why are you so fucking nervous? Just speak" 

He thinks you're cute with your cheeks all red. On the flip side, he's a bit confused. Why are you nervous? Is it his fault? He knows he's loud, hard to love and rough, but he cares about people he likes. Have you seen how he acts with Killer and his crew? He loves his people. 

And, as a punk, Kid is marginalized. He knows a lot about being different, and if you feel ashamed about it, he can understand. "Come on y/n, let's find a private place" 

Grab your wrist in an aggressive yet sweet way and lead you to his workshop or bedroom. He sits you on the bed with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised. "Now we're alone." 

So, you start talking nervously. It doesn't matter if the topic is interesting to him or not, he will listen. Because as I said, Kid is a passionate. Everything can be made interesting by passionate people. So, yeah, talk about birds, cakes, plushies, or anything stuck in your head. He will like it. And he enjoys the sound of your voice. He’s even flattered to be your special someone, the one you’re looking for when you need to talk. It fuels his ego and pride.

He will deal with your stuttering as he deals with Killer's laugh. He'll shut up and smash all the people making fun of you if there's something you hate about yourself. You're his s/o, no one can laugh at you and continue to live without facing his rage.

"Goddamn, slow down" yes, not the best with kindness, but at least he's paying attention. 

He wouldn't help but think you're really cute, with your eyes shining as you finally manage to relax and express how passionate you are. He understands your excitement because when he talks about robots, music, punk or weapons, he's exactly the same. 

Kid is not the most culturally advanced, it depends on the topic. He enjoys learning new things thanks to you or Killer, it's important for him to be credible, and he hates looking inferior in front of others. 

"See, there was no reason to be that nervous" When you finished speaking.

Just poke your cheek, grin and leave a mark of lipstick on your front-head before returning to his activities and yelling proudly to everyone he knows everything about the subject you just info-dump about.

Ace

The sweetest. Ace's personality is both compassionate and protective. He grew up with Luffy, so passionate and talkative people are something he knows a lot about. As he's proud of his brother, he's proud of you and can listen to everything you say for hours. 

"Y/N, is there something wrong?" 

Yeah, he would immediately notice that you're starting to get nervous. His first reflex is to find a more private place, if that's not already the case. He wants to do everything to make you feel safe and loved. If it's winter or just cold, he would even use his DF to warm the room. As soon as you're all comfortable, he'll run his fingers through your hair. "You know I will always listen." 

Ace doesn't speak a lot about what's on his mind. He's way too stubborn and always struggles with guilt due to the blood running through his veins. So he enjoys having someone like you. Your voice is soothing him, and he loves how passionate and honest you are always. 

For him, it's even amazing and unreal to have someone talk to him. You're treating him like a normal human and not a failure, because he feels like it often: unloved, unwanted and unworthy.

"Sweetie, you don't have to rush, we have the time, I'll always listen" if you start to speak too fast.

Would entwine his fingers with yours when you're stuttering and laugh heartily at your jokes. You remind him of his dear little brother. He feels lucky to have you by his side. 

"I could listen for hours." And he's totally honest.

If someone makes fun of you, he's truly mad. You are as significant to him as his brother or Whitebeard. And if someone makes fun of his loved-one, Ace is merciless and really impulsive.

"Please, say more about this specific point!", "Oh, really, that's so funny?" He wants to make you talk even more. Until you're finally relaxed and able to speak without stuttering, blushing, or anything else. He doesn't mind it, even if it lasts for hours. Once you're done, he has his usual sweet smile on his face. "That was so interesting, why are you so embarrassed?" 

So you explain to him that you feel embarrassed about your info dump because you're afraid to annoy people or talk too fast etc." It's alright, you won't bother me." 

You're his sunshine. He feels loved with you. He feels more than just the son of someone; he's just Ace, and that's the most beautiful thing in the world for him.

Such a sweet boy. ♡

[adamcoled]

jealousy | rhea ripley

rhea ripley x fem!reader

summary: you and rhea aren’t anything official, but you’re still jealous upon seeing her flirt with others. 

word count: 3,838

warnings: just slight sexual implications i think?

a/n: WOW um okay hi, i haven’t posted writing on this blog in YEARS but i recently got fully back into wrestling and have developed such a love for rhea ripley. so i decided to start writing again, but it’s been so long this definitely isn’t my best work. here’s to getting back into the swing of things i hope! (also i know samantha is engaged to ricochet and ofc all of it is just character work, but it made for a good plot soo)

Rhea was a flirt. That much was true long before you, and it was certainly not a secret to most. She had the charm, and of course the looks, so people were naturally drawn to her, and she loved that. Flirting, to her, was fun – harmless fun, for the most part – and typically it never went beyond cheeky comments or tantalizing gestures.

So when Rhea began flirting with you, initially you didn’t think much of it and really had no reason to. She was attractive – incredibly attractive – and her voice could melt you instantly if you let it; but this was just her thing. At first, you would catch her staring at you backstage or at other company events. Then, she started making it a point to tell you how beautiful you looked each time she saw you. From there, you were texting a lot more and hanging out outside of schedule. But still, it was never anything official and they were never labeled as “dates,” which you internally hated yourself for forgetting.

Because now, you were jealous. A fiery red jealousy that had you feeling betrayed without the entitlement to do so. For some reason, you thought things seemed different between you and Rhea. She seemed more serious and attentive, even remembering small details you’d told her about things you enjoyed. You couldn’t imagine she did that for just anyone she happened to flirt with.

Yet there you were last night, scrolling through Twitter and seeing endless posts about Rhea and Samantha. Rhea was being her usual flirty self, smiling, blowing kisses, and surely winking beneath those glasses, and it was obvious Samantha was enjoying it. Even worse, there were also comment threads with Cathy, and you knew it was all lighthearted, but it still made you feel some type of way.

You liked Rhea. A lot actually. Maybe that’s why you wanted to believe she liked you too and treated you differently from the rest. Clearly, you were wrong. And you weren’t going to be strung along in a game or play along with silly flirting when you genuinely hoped for more with her. That’s why now that she was here in front of you, you were going to be as indifferent as possible.

“Hey pretty girl,” Rhea greeted, smile beaming as always. She had finally found you backstage after you’d made it a point to not respond to some of her texts. It didn’t seem like she was too upset or phased by that judging by the greeting she’d given you.

“Hey,” you responded with only a half-smile of your own. That was something she definitely picked up on, because you swore you’d never seen her face fall faster.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dropping your attention back to your phone. Usually, she would have your full focus, but you were making every attempt to emphasize your feigned disinterest. “I’m fine, what’s up?” 

Rhea used her thumb and forefinger to grip your chin and tilt it upwards, forcing your gaze towards her rather than your phone screen. Hastily, she studied your face as if she would be able to read your thoughts merely by doing so; with her eyes looking you over so intently, you felt your face heating up quickly. 

“You seem off,” she finally commented, her finger tracing along your jawline from your chin before finally dropping back down to her side. You immediately missed the feeling of her touch against your skin, but that was something you would have to subdue. One thing you noticed was that Rhea seemed genuinely concerned, her eyebrows downturned and the smile she always wore - around you at least - nowhere in sight. 

“No, Rhea, I’m really okay,” you shrugged. 

“Then why are you acting like you can’t wait to get away from me?” 

Her bluntness shouldn’t have come as a shock to you, but you were still taken aback when she asked so outright. While she usually oozed confidence, that seemed to be lost now. And it almost made you think you had been right about the two of you all along. But then you remembered how content she looked in those videos with Samantha, and how easily she could flirt with someone else when you had secretly been turning down advances in hopes there would be a real chance at a relationship between you and Rhea. 

“I’m not acting like that. I really don’t care if you’re around or not,” you lied, and it was meant to sound nonchalant and unbothered but you silently cursed yourself for making it come out more aggressively. 

“You don’t care?” she repeated incredulously, almost in disbelief of how drastically you changed. Just a few days ago, you were telling her how much you adored her smile with her head in your lap. Now, she couldn’t figure out why you wanted nothing to do with her - and it was crushing her. 

“Listen, can we please talk about this later? The show’s about to start and the Judgment Day is up first, I don’t want you thinking about this out there.” 

“Are we really gonna talk later?” Rhea questioned. “Or is that your cop out to avoid it altogether?”

And you hated her for knowing you so well, because it was partially your dread of the conversation. Still, you didn’t think it was a good idea to have it right before she was slated to go speak in front of thousands of people. At this point, she was frowning, yet still staring right through you. 

“We’ll talk,” you promised.

“I have your word? Whatever’s going on is important to me. It really is, Y/N.” 

The resolve of indifference you had was all but faded upon hearing how sincerely Rhea cared. You didn’t want to be just another game for her, but it was proving far too difficult for you to ignore your internal feelings. And she looked too pretty standing there, worried about you and looking at you in a way that made you feel naked beneath her eyes. Not in a sexually demanding way - not in the way too many people do - but in a way where you felt like she saw your very soul. 

“Find me after the show?” you asked. “I’ll let you take me back to the hotel. Can’t exactly hide from my ride.” 

You finally smiled wholeheartedly after making that joke, and Rhea had never been so happy to see a smile before. For a moment, she felt like everything was fine. 

“Yeah, I’ll find you, angel.”

-

From backstage, you watched as Rhea walked out with the Judgment Day and cut a promo just as good as any other, if not better. It was impossible to tell the kind of conversation you two had shortly beforehand, and for that you were grateful. You weren’t sure you could remain as unphased as her, and seeing as you had a match tonight as well, you made it a point to avoid any further interactions with her during show hours. Busying yourself with your phone, Rhea still found a way to affect you when you saw her name flash across the top of your screen, indicating a text. 

From: rhea :) 

Good luck tonight ❤️

Half inclined to simply leave her on delivered, you hesitantly opened it and sent back a “thanks.” Following the Judgment Day’s segment, the rest of the show seemed to go by quickly, your own match fast approaching. While you were waiting in gorilla to make your entrance, you saw flashes of jet black hair out of the corner of your eye. A subtle glance over revealed it to be Rhea, naturally, standing there talking with Damian. Call it coincidence, or - the more likely case - call it Rhea’s tendency to be methodical with her actions. And like clockwork, her eyes met your own, leaving you no time to look away before she was grinning at you slyly. You thought perhaps her getting into character in front of the WWE Universe took away much of the previous unease and disappointment she felt during your earlier conversation. Because before, she seemed well and truly worried about the state of you, and you were sure she still was to some extent, but now her confidence had returned. 

You had hardly any time to process it before you had to walk out, your theme hitting just as Rhea set her focus back on the man in front of her. That stupid, beautiful smile you thought to yourself. Right now, though, you needed to worry about your match against Zoey Stark, especially since you knew Rhea would be watching attentively. 

Once the match began, you fell right back into your element. Zoey was a fierce opponent, but you had a fire beneath you and after a well-fought match on both sides, you came out victorious. You were feeling extremely proud of both yours and Zoey’s performance and partially hoped Rhea had watched the whole thing.

(She absolutely did). 

Returning backstage, you noticed Rhea was now nowhere in sight. Your match was towards the last hour of Raw, however, which meant you wouldn’t have much time to kill before you’d have to meet up with her anyways. Thankfully, you found Liv, one of your closest friends on the roster, and knew you could spend the remaining time talking with her about anything and everything - the primary topic of discussion being you and Rhea.

“It’s just like, I think things are different with me and her,” you began, to which Liv nodded in agreement. “But then I see how she acts with other people, and I’m not so sure. Am I being delusional for thinking that way?” 

“You’d be delusional if you thought otherwise! The girl is a flirt, sure, but she practically fawns over you at any given moment and is always asking about you,” Liv countered. All too often, she’d be the one Rhea would come to when she wanted to find out your whereabouts, as if Liv had a constant read on you at all times. You knew that to be true, but it still wasn’t total reassurance.

“You’re right, I guess. And I kinda told her I’d ride with her to the hotel so we could talk, sooo,” you revealed.

“I thought we were riding together?” Liv questioned, only slightly upset to be losing her driving buddy. If she had to make that sacrifice to advance things between you and Rhea, she’d accept it wholeheartedly. Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, someone else’s voice interrupted. A certain Australian accent. 

“I’m sorry, did I steal Y/N away for the night?” Rhea quipped, placing her hand on the small of your back where Liv wouldn’t see. 

“Actually, I’m willingly handing her over so that you two can figure your mess out.” 

“Well, thank you so very much for that,” Rhea smiled, seeming genuinely appreciative. She redirected her attention from Liv to you. “Told you I’d find ya. You ready to go?” 

You glanced down at your phone, not even realizing how much time had passed with you and Liv chatting. The show was nearing the end, and Rhea already had her bag by her side, meanwhile you hadn’t even gotten your stuff together yet.

“I gotta go get my stuff real quick. You wanna wait here for me? I’ll be quick.”

“I can wait,” Rhea nodded, to which you took off with a promise to be no more than ten minutes. Once you were out of earshot, Liv had a few comments for the taller, raven-haired woman.

“I hope you do right by her.”

“Didn’t realize I’d done wrong,” Rhea retorted, confusedly. “...Have I done wrong?” 

Liv only shrugged, though she really did believe Rhea was unaware of how she’d unintentionally hurt you. “Nothing that can’t be fixed, I think.” 

“Liv,” Rhea started, her face becoming more serious. “I really like her.” 

“Then make sure she knows that.” 

- 

When you gathered everything and found your way back to Rhea, Liv was long gone and Rhea was leaned against the wall, her eyes shifted down and transfixed on her phone as she absentmindedly scrolled through Twitter. She looked too good even just standing there in her own world. But before you could admire her for much longer, she heard you approaching and glanced up from her phone, shoving it into her pocket immediately upon realizing it was you.

“Ready now, princess?”

The nickname rolled off her tongue so easily, yet it had your cheeks heating up within seconds. You nodded, following behind as she led the way to her car. Outside, she popped the trunk for each of you to toss your bags inside, and then she made sure to open the passenger door for you as well; it was the little gestures like that that made your heart flutter and your feelings for her to grow even stronger. 

“Well, I just wanna start by saying you were amazing tonight,” Rhea complimented once she had settled into the driver’s seat. 

“Thank you,” you giggled. “You watched it?” 

“From start to finish, like always.”

She diverted her attention from the road towards you for a moment, taking notice of how much your face lit up after hearing that. And it wasn’t like she was lying just to make you feel good, either, because she did genuinely watch you each time you stepped into the ring, and she admired you heavily. 

“I don’t believe you,” you laughed, although you only slightly meant that. 

“I’m serious! Ask Damian or Dom, they’ll vouch,” Rhea exclaimed, pushing her hair back as she did. You weren’t quite sure what to say now, because one, you were feeling quite flustered knowing this, and two, you could only ignore the real reason you were sat in her car for so long. She took note of your silence and decided to tackle the subject head-on, a brazen move from her as always. “You don’t seem like you hate my guts now, at least.” 

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at this. 

“You’re being dramatic. I never acted like I hated you.” 

“Slightly detested my presence?” she tried again, clearly joking at this point. While things seemed so perfect in this moment, you couldn’t help but think back to everything you’d seen flooding your Twitter timeline and how silly you’d felt for being so upset by it. As much as you liked Rhea, as much as it appeared she liked you, the harmless flirting had really gotten to you and forced you to reconsider much of what you thought. You weren’t even quite sure how to ask everything you wanted to ask, and you were admittedly fearful of rejection. But the only thing worse than rejection is never knowing. 

“What do you think about me, Rhea?” 

She was taken aback by this, you could tell, because she opened her mouth to speak several times but didn’t let any words out. To her, it was because she didn’t really know how to put it into words; there were so many things she thought about you, so many ways you made her feel, but it had been a confusing thing for her to navigate, unsure of your own feelings.

“I think you’re incredible, amazing in the ring, beautiful and kind but still assertive and badass,” she answered, hoping she’d said all the right things. Truthfully, that was only a small fraction of what she thought regarding you, but she was still holding back. Liv’s words repeated in her head, and she knew if she didn’t make it clear tonight, she may never get that chance again. 

“And what do you think about someone like Samantha, or Cathy?” 

You had caught her off guard again, the randomness of your question completely perplexing her. She hadn’t a clue why either of those two would be relevant, because - in her eyes - she had already basically forgotten the silly interactions they’d had. It still hadn’t pieced together in her mind that you were even the slightest bit jealous. 

“They’re great,” she stated plainly. “Why?”

It was really now or never, you felt like. You had fed her pieces of the story, now she definitely wouldn’t stop until you told her everything, which undoubtedly included your own feelings. Rhea was focused primarily on the road, but she made sure to spare glances your way every so often, and each time you arrived at a red light, that focus was solely on you. She wanted to both try to read your expression and show you she was really, truly listening and wanting to hear what you had to say.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous,” you confessed.

“Jealous?” she repeated, even more confused now than before. But she noticed the way you retreated into yourself, suddenly finding more interest in your fingers. You could no longer look her in the eye, feeling nervous about the information you’d now divulged. This certainly didn’t deter Rhea, though, as she placed her right hand on your thigh and traced light circles with her thumb. “Why were you jealous?”

“I don’t know…it was dumb, I guess. I just saw the videos of you and Samantha, and then Cathy’s Tweets, and it made me feel like everything is just a game to you.” 

Her thumb movement stopped, and instead she squeezed your thigh lightly, causing you to lift your head back up to look at her. She was already looking right back, admiring how beautiful you looked with the moonlight creeping into the car and a shyness about you she wasn’t used to. 

“You’re right, that is dumb,” she affirmed. “Because do you think I know Samantha or Cathy’s top three favorite movies? Or their specific Starbucks order? The way they like their pizza? Do you think I’ve memorized all those things for anyone other than you?” 

Before you could answer, Rhea moved her fingers to your wrist and asked you to push up your sleeve, which you did. She tapped directly on a birthmark of yours without even looking. 

“Do you think I know each of their freckles and birthmarks?” 

You were dumbfounded, at a loss for words with how much she really noticed about you. And that was only scratching the surface. While your flirtation had only started within the last few months, she had known you for years and had plenty of time to take notice of all these little things no one else would. Because she always had a soft spot for you, but you were in a long-term relationship for most of the time you’d known her, and she would never be one to overstep any boundaries. 

“I just felt hurt thinking I may be falling for someone who only sees me as another person to mess around with,” you told her, taking note of how gentle her eyes were in this moment. She felt awful that she had hurt you, even unintentionally, and cursed herself for not being more aware and mindful. You weren’t committed to each other, but she still felt like she had made a mistake engaging in any kind of behavior that would make her feelings for you seem misguided. 

“Y/N, I promise you how I interact with just about anyone else is entirely me in character,” she comforted. “I’m sorry for making you second guess that, but I’ve never felt realer emotions than I do with you. It’s like I can be me, just me. And I love that you make me feel that way.”

“I love when you’re just you, Rhea.” 

“Then I’ll keep being just me, if I can start calling you just mine.” 

Rhea was undoubtedly nervous asking you so boldly, but she was so damn happy to do so. She was staring at you hopefully, looking happier than you’d seen her since her WrestleMania win. And you were just as happy, not even realizing you had gotten to the hotel and had been parked for a minute or two now. Your entire focus was on her, eyes filled with adoration while she waited for your answer.

“I’ve basically been yours, I just needed you to be mine,” you beamed. 

“I’m yours, love,” Rhea affirmed. “You are so damn beautiful.” 

You wanted to instinctively look away, still feeling flustered even after the months of flirting and now technically being in a defined relationship. But Rhea knew you too well and gripped your chin before you could do so, keeping your face towards hers. Neither of you could get rid of the smiles you wore, too overwhelmed with happiness and adoration and love. 

“Can I kiss you?” Rhea asked, eyes darting from your own to your lips. You nodded, and that was all it took for her to be all over you. Her lips melted into your own, and everything felt so right. Each time you pulled away, you were reconnected within seconds, physically unable to keep apart, both of you awaiting this moment for too long. You felt her smiling into the kiss, which in turn made you smile, and then you were two smiling, giggly messes. Finally, she pulled away for good (but not without one final peck) and laughed when she saw you pouting. She opened her door and made her way to yours hastily, scooping you out of your seat before you could even react. Then, you were pinned against the car with your legs around her waist. 

“I’ll take you to your room?” she offered, placing feathery kisses along your jaw. 

“My room?” 

She laughed at how offended you sounded. “Our room?”

“Mhmm,” you confirmed. “You’re not getting away from me now, Ripley.”

You unhooked your legs from her waist and she carefully released her hold, allowing you to plant your feet back onto the solid ground. She followed you to the back of the car, popping open the trunk; you leaned forward to reach your bag, and Rhea - sly as ever - took this opportunity to smack your ass, only light enough to be a tease. Once you’d grabbed your bag and stood straight up, she was smirking, all too aware of her actions. 

“Now why would I want to get away from you, baby?” 

From then on, you both knew you’d be stuck with each other, practically inseparable and surely obnoxiously in love around all your friends - which they didn’t really mind, because seeing you so happy together was more than worth it. Rhea made sure to tone down her persona a bit out of respect for you, even though you reassured her you didn’t mind too much now knowing she was yours at the end of the day. Still, you couldn’t deny that you were more elated to scroll through your socials and see videos of interactions between you and Rhea rather than her and anyone else; and it definitely helped that she loved letting the cameras know you were hers.

[luveline]

Hi id love to send u a request but I just can't match your genius mind, id looooveee more zombie!au Steve!!! 🥺🥺🥺🫶🏻🫶🏻 maybe smth about r or Steve almost being bitten by a geek?

hi!! thank you angel!! zombie au steve x fem!reader, 3k

"Sneaking around with your boyfriend would've been considered sort of scandalous a few years ago," you think aloud, eyes skipping over medication labels slowly. "Now it's the norm."

"We are the opposite of scandalous," Steve says. 

You push pill bottles aside to meet his eyes through the gap in the shelves. He narrows his gaze. "You know how you saw me naked, like, a week after we met?" 

Steve's glare turns playfully salacious. "Yeah?" 

"Did that make it less, uh, important? Not important. Was it less intimate for you when I was naked on purpose?" 

Steve returns his eyes to the pill bottles. "No." 

"Is that weird for me to ask you?" 

"No, that's not weird, why would that be weird?" He looks up again. His expression softens. "Don't worry, it's not weird. It's a normal question. You're wondering if I was… desensitised." 

"Yeah, exactly. Were you desensitised?" 

Trust Steve to say something snippy and then feel bad enough afterwards to immediately backtrack. There's no need for him to feel guilty because you'd known he was joking, and if he weren't it wouldn't matter to you —you know being outside of camp makes him nervous, and tightly strung. You aren't expecting him to be all smiles, especially when you're asking peculiar questions. 

"If anything," he says, his voice a murmur that evidences shy affection, "it was way more special. I knew you back to front already, but the first time you showed me you, on purpose, it was different." 

You grin at him. "Like a look don't touch scenario where you finally get to touch?" 

"I'm trying to be sweet on you." 

"What was it like?" you ask. Your smile is audible. 

"Like fucking relief." He reaches through the shelves to squeeze your hand. "You're being slow." 

You take your hand back and return to the task. You're looking for anti-seizure medication for one of the children at camp. It's an important mission and neither of you had hesitated when Joyce asked you to go, but you can't say you enjoy being out here. Talking to Steve makes things better. Easier to cope. Talking to Steve about loving him and being loved by him could make you forget a pike through the chest. 

You move to the next shelf below. 

There aren't many drugs for epilepsy. You aren't sure the child even has epilepsy, but no one has the knowledge to identify anything else. Sarah (Robin's fast friend from camp) read in her field medic journal that a seizure can be caused by lots of things, and she also said that sometimes what looks like a seizure isn't a seizure at all. What is it, then? you'd asked. 

The page was missing. 

You're working through a mental list of four drugs methodically, scanning and rescanning the labels on the bottles in the back of a pharmacy. This is the raw stuff, the kind that sometimes needs to be ground and poured into capsules with filler, so if you do find the right meds you'll also need to find a pestle and some other equipment. It's a hassle, but it's worth it completely if it helps. 

"Clonazepam," you read. You lift your head. "Steve, that's the right one, right? Clonazepam?" 

Steve's head snaps up. "Yeah, that's the last resort one. Where's that?" 

He rounds the shelves to be on the same side as you, seemingly hoping for similar medications to be in the same place. His hand drops casually to your shoulder as he bends, reading each label with a determined brow. 

"Valproate," he says, relieved, hand closing around another bottle. "Okay, two options. Thank god." 

"Do they have the side effects on the bottle?" you ask. 

Steve turns the bottle but there's no second label.

"The side effects are usually worse than the original problem," he says, frowning, "remember those migraine pills we found, the leaflet?" That's how bored you and Steve had become at one point in your isolation, you'd started reading medical pamphlets. "I'd rather have a headache than lose my sense of smell." 

"Depends on how bad the headache is. You keep looking for the, uh, the carba-Tegre one. I'll go scout the equipment." 

"Tegretol," he corrects lightly. "Carbamazepine, brand name Tegretol." 

You're impressed by his memory. He sees that, and he lifts his hand to you. Palm your way, you can see he's written the names of the medication as you'd been advised to find by one of the camp members, a retired carer who worked bedside for a lady who suffered from epilepsy. 

"Your spelling is terrible," you say. 

"Whatever," he says flippantly. You're barely ten paces away when he adds, "I love you." 

"I love you too," you say. There's no need to call. The building, this entire town, is silent. You'll hear a geek a mile away. 

You poke at dusty equipment sceptically. You don't need filler, you don't think, but it affects absorption, maybe? You're not a pharmacist nor a chemist, whoever's watching knows you didn't have time to become much of anything, you're just doing as the retired carer advised. There's a press contraption with what feels like hundreds of caplet sized holes toward the front. You put it in your bag and lament its weight as you search for a pestle. 

"I've found the filler," Steve says. "There's a huge container of it. Lactose. And another of starch."

"Starch, like potatoes? We could put her medicine in mash potato."

"I think we just need a pestle and a weighing scale now. And some hand sanitiser." 

"I'll have the scales and the sanitiser, what about Robin's deodorant?" you ask. 

"At the front. I'll get it. You'll have another one?" 

"Please tell me they have that Carribean Crush one again, it was lovely." 

"You're lovely. I'll find it." 

The weighing scale must get its name from how ridiculously heavy it is. That along with the pestle has your bag feeling like a boulder attached to your neck. Maybe Steve will be willing to share the load with you. Actually, there's no need for maybe. If you tell him, he'll carry it with you happily. 

You scan the room for useful things. Batteries, food, things you've trained your eye to pick out of a bomb site if necessary. You pocket a pen for Steve and leave the rest where it lays, stepping out into the slightly bigger medications room before rounding a plexiglass wall to the pharmacy counter. Steve crouches down the aisleway, rejected roll-on deodorant on the floor beside him. 

You're about ten feet away from him when the geek lunges for him. 

You can't even tell it's a geek at first, it moves quickly, quietly, smooth as a living human. They've become diverse as the infection thrives, and you should've been thinking about that fact. You should've been standing at the front of the room. 

You freeze. You freeze and you waste time. 

"Steve!" you shriek. 

Steve's flat on his side, kicking with the entire force of his body. The geek actually bounces back with the force of each kick, but he's persistent, and stronger than he should be, a mottled hand on Steve's shoulder and decaying teeth snapping with a sound like cracking marble near his face. Steve tries to scramble from under the geek and its face falls down by Steve's ribs and upper arm. He yanks his arm away, and there's an odd ripping sound. 

You run so fast down the aisle to protect him that you can't slow, the entire weight of your body and the heavy bag you carry throttling the geek with a horrid slap against the glass door. It flies open and you topple out onto asphalt, sliding across the geek's body and taking the brunt of your rolling in your hands and the top of your face. Steve shouts a war cry and barrels after you. You go on knees, hands trembling and rushing as you grab for the knife in your belt. Steve lands on top of the geek and drives the blade of his pen knife straight into the crease between its brows, grunting as he goes, his breath coming too fast. 

You've clipped your head on the floor, the warmth of blood trickling down your brow. It doesn't concern you. 

What concerns you is the sizable tear in Steve's coat. 

He almost cuts you with his knife as you run at him, yanking the sleeves of his coat and jacket down. 

"What– what are you doing?" he asks. You tug at his sleeve like you've been possessed, panic a coil that won't loosen in your throat. "What–?" 

If he's been bitten, you'll have to saw his arm off. It's the most horrible thing you can think of, hurting someone you love, hurting the one person you love most. Your breath is half sob as you finally get his outerwear off of his arm. You don't know how to do that to somebody and especially Steve, how could you ever sever a limb? But if it will stop the infection, if it would save him—

You push the long sleeve of his t-shirt up his arm and stare down at his arm. Bruised near the wrist, pale, threaded with dark-green veins, his skin is unbroken. He hasn't been bitten. 

You pull his arm to your chest and almost break down there in the street. Steve stands with his coat hanging off of his one shoulder and doesn't respond to your actions for a long, heavy second. 

"You thought it bit me," he says. 

Your breath catches. 

"It didn't bite you." 

"No," he says, "it didn't bite me." 

"Your coat." 

Steve pulls you back inside of the store. He looks around the room twice, and then leads you to an empty corner to hug you. 

You're frenetic and frantic at once, hands sliding up and down his arm, eyes tracing his light skin like an injury might materialise. 

"It didn't bite me," Steve says, "but you're bleeding." 

You hiss as his fingertip locates your cut forehead. It must be a very small cut considering how little it bled. You've had head injuries that wept for hours, leaving you dizzy and disorientated from the subsequent lack of blood. This one's a wimp. 

You've also seriously hurt your shoulder from the backpack's weight and your small skirmish. You're not going to tell him that, not now, not when you've been dropped face first into the horror of potentially losing him forever. 

Steve eases out of his jacket. He takes your hand from his arm and pushes both sleeves up, bearing both arms in front of you. 

"It didn't get me, honey. Try to calm down." 

He says it softly, with no judgement or condescension. Only concern. 

"I'm fine," you say. 

It's strangled, you'll admit. Steve turns his arms to show you both sides before he tilts your head up and toward the meagre filtering sunlight, analysing your head injury in detail. 

"Did you hurt yourself? When you fell, did it feel like you hit it hard, or was it something sharp?" You don't answer, and he gets snippy. "Y/N, tell me. Did it hurt?" 

"Steve, you're the one who almost got bit." 

"And you're the one who almost died of a fucking concussion not that long ago, in case you forgot. Sit down. I'm not kidding, sit down." 

You blink, mildly startled by his hissing, and sit on the ground. He's being snappy because he's panicking, that's all it is. You hold back an unhelpful comment that your concussion had been months and months ago, so it kind of was long ago. 

He lets his coat and jacket fall to the floor and jogs back up the aisle to the bandages and gauze. He takes a detour for antiseptic, and then he sets himself down in front of you. 

"Did you hit it hard?" he asks. 

You shake your head. 

He doused a piece of gauze in antiseptic. "Sting," he warns, washing the length of your forehead with his makeshift wipe. He quickly swaps the bloodied one for a clean one. "Hold this." 

You hold it. He gets back up, scouring the shelves by the bandages until he plucks out a small box. He crushes it with his hand and the medical tape inside falls into his waiting palm. He sits again, tears two strips, and lines the edges of your gauze with them. It would all be much easier if they had big band-aids. 

"Show me your pupils, baby," he says. 

Steve, for his street smarts and survival skills, used to freak out about injuries. But Steve freaking out freaks you out and he guessed that soon enough, so every cut and bruise these days is met with a silent approach. It's the opposite of your reaction. Embarrassment starts to creep in. 

You widen your eyes and let Steve check your pupils. 

"Same size," he says. 

"It's just a cut." 

Steve shuffles across the floor so his thigh is pressed to yours, rather than having his back to the store. He breathes out slowly, breathes in quick, and then forces the bottom of his palm into his thigh cruelly. 

"How the fuck did that happen?" he asks. If he weren't being hyper vigilant, he'd be scrubbing his eyes in a tell tale nervous tic. "We haven't had something like that in months. We swept this whole place when we came in, where the fuck was he hiding? I feel sick." 

"You do?" you ask, terrified. 

"It didn't bite me," he assures you again. Thankfully without any annoyance. 

"It ripped a chunk out of your coat with its teeth. Forgive me for thinking your skin was less hardy than pressed plastic." 

Your acidity shocks you both. 

Things are awkward for a split second, 'cos it's difficult to feel awkward around someone who you've spent every second of the day with since you met. You feel for a moment that you could just take him by the shoulders and shake him. You love him, you could never hurt him, but he has to see sense: he doesn't understand how much you need him. Not to keep you alive, but to give you a reason to do it yourself. If he got bit, you'd die. Plain and simple. Internally first, but surely the heartbreak would murder you in the end. 

"I didn't know you were so disagreeable," Steve says. 

"I didn't know you knew a word that long."

Steve laughs, startled. You want to be mad, but you're so thankful that he's not dying and so suddenly wiped you can only laugh with him.

"I forgot how quick you are when we fight," Steve says. 

"We don't fight anymore." 

"That could be amended. Especially if you're going to get fresh with me."

"You started it." 

"I always start it." Steve flicks your shoulder."Let me see your head," he says. You turn your neck so he can see the outermost side of your head. "You swelled up like a helium balloon when you fell through that floor. It was right at the back of your head and I could tell something was wrong… This is fine. It bulged out last time." 

"It what?" you demand, pulling another rare laugh from him.

He winds down, clasping your knee. You cover his hand, and only then do you realise it's shaking.

"Steve, you almost died." 

"But I didn't die, I'm fine, and you need to stop freaking out because high blood pressure is definitely bad for a concussion. You could die yourself if you don't relax, seriously." Steve clears his throat. "Sorry, for getting heated. And thanks for knocking that guy clean off of me, what was that? You holding out on me when we wrestle? That was clean." 

"That was like, a mom's adrenaline thing. No, not 'cos I'm your mom, idiot. Loved one's adrenaline. I thought you were gonna die and suddenly I could've run for fucking gold in the Tokyo Olympics." 

"How did I get some of that? Whenever you're hurt I just feel like crying." 

"I think the crying bit comes after. Maybe if you tried getting to me quicker you'd have enough adrenaline to save me." 

He smiles before he talks, so you know it's going to be bad, "If a geek eats me during an adrenaline rush, am I a human Red Bull?"

"Okay, you have to keep an eye on the store because I need to be hugging you," you say, giving him little time to disagree as you climb on top of his lap. 

It's not comfortable nor sexy, but for once you don't care how heavy you are. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck and cradle his head, his face hooked over your shoulder so that he can still see your surroundings. He slides his hands underneath your coat and hugs you in turn. Your heart's still racing, and his hands are still shaking, but you lived. He lived. You've defeated danger for the hundredth time. 

"This really doesn't get any easier, does it?" you ask, petting his hair.  

He pats your back. "No, I don't think so. S'why I need you with me." 

"That's why I need you." 

Steve dots a quick kiss against the column of your throat. When he puts his chin back atop your shoulder, it's with a heaving sigh. 

"I can't believe you almost got bit," you say. 

"Yeah, well. Nobody has any manners anymore." 

[explosionkatsu]

Random Number (Upcoming Series)

Pairing: Adult!Bakugo x F!Reader

Summary:

Bakugo Katsuki's phone beeped as he received a text from an unknown number. Feeling curious about the contents of the message, he unlocked his phone and opened the text to find an unexpected list of grocery items. Perhaps it was a wrong number or maybe someone was playing a prank on him.

Warnings: None. Ya’all know I don't write stuff like that! Haha!

PROLOUGE ————

Y/n had put in a lot of effort throughout the week and was eagerly awaiting her paycheck. She had been looking forward to her evening, filled with relaxation after a long day at work. The idea of having some quality 'me time' was exciting, and she couldn't wait to indulge herself by staying up late and binge-watching her favorite series on Netflix. She had also planned to treat herself to some delicious food, which would only add to the enjoyment of her well-deserved break.

"Hey, Y/n! Do you want to join us for some Shabu-shabu?" Y/n's colleagues asked her.

"That sounds like fun, Mika. But I already have plans for my evening. You know, some 'me-time' would be nice," Y/n replied.

"Haha! Well, you deserve it after this hellish week we've had. You're probably the hardest worker here," Mika responded playfully.

"Oh, shut it. Haha. Well, I'll be off now! Say hi to everyone for me and have fun with the team!" Y/n giggled as she picked up her bag and waved goodbye to her colleagues.

As soon as Y/n got out of the building, she rushed to the nearest cash dispenser and withdrew a good amount of money from her account to pay her bills and buy groceries for the month. She had worked overtime the previous week, and she felt pleased that her hard work had paid off.

Humming happily, she walked towards the supermarket, enjoying the cool breeze of the night. When she reached the store, she fished her grocery list out of her bag, only to realize that it was missing.

Panic set in, and Y/n started to rummage through her bag in search of the list. She even planned on flipping her bag upside down, but it was nowhere to be found.

Frustrated, Y/n muttered under her breath, "It's not here. I must have left it at home." She pondered for a moment about what to do next. She could either go back home to get the list or try to remember the items she needed to buy.

Finally, Y/n decided to use her phone to make a list of the things she needed to buy. She hoped that she could remember most of the items, but she knew that she might forget some of them. She sighed and muttered to herself, "Hopefully, I still remember some of it."

Without wasting any time, Y/n pulled out her phone and opened the messages app instead of the notes. She swiftly listed all the items she required and then hit the send button. However, she immediately noticed that she had left the contact details empty. Not wanting to waste any more time, she quickly typed in her number and hit send again. Unbeknownst to her, the last digit of her number was incorrect.

—

"Hey Bakugo, I'm so pumped up! Our dine-out is going to be epic!" Kirishima exclaimed with unbridled enthusiasm as he met up with a scowling Bakugo, who was already bundled up in a thick scarf to protect himself from the chilly weather.

“I'd rather spend time alone than be with you idiots,” Bakugo said under his scarf.

“Aw, come on bro. We’ve rarely got this chance,” Kirishima insisted. “Besides, today is the only day we’re all free!”

“Tsk.” Bakugou only said in response.

As they started walking, there was a sudden sound of "ding" emanating from Bakugo's device which caught their attention.

“You should check that out. It's probably something important,” Kirishima pointed out and continued walking.

“For god’s sake," Bakugo said with a hint of frustration evident in his voice, as he reached for his phone in his pocket.

Bakugo's eyes widened in disbelief as he read the message. "What the hell?" he blurted out, scanning the text again. His mind raced as he tried to make sense of it. Could this be some kind of sick joke? “Is this a prank?”

Kirishima glanced at Bakugo's phone and asked, "What's up, bro?" After reading the message, he snickered and said, "I told you it's important. And let me tell you, strawberry milk is amazing. Don't be shy about enjoying it." He teased.

Bakugo's voice boomed with anger as he shouted, "Shut the hell up, Shitty hair!" His outburst drew the attention of everyone in the vicinity, causing them to turn and stare at the source of the commotion.

“A-ah! Sorry about that! That's just nothing!” Kirishima apologetically said to the people looking at them. “Bakugo! Keep it down will ya!”

"Whoever this person is, is screwed!" Bakugo exclaimed, clenching his jaw.

“Hey, hold on a minute. What if that person is an elderly woman who’s unfamiliar with using phones?" Kirishima suggested. "Also, have you thought about how it might affect your reputation if she finds out you're Dynamight? Think about this carefully, man.”

“Tsch!” Kirishima's reaction might seem excessive, but he has a point. It's best to just let it be.

————

Upcoming series? Does that mean sluggish uploads again? Haha. As you all know, the series I'm currently working on is coming to an end. Only two chapters more. 👀

See you again in my next series! 😘

[wordssricochet]

💬 — First time writing a fanfiction, EVER!! Please, correct me if i misinterpret his personality, or if I make any spelling or grammar mistakes. I am still learning. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy reading.

⚠ — Miscommunication

📝 — ☣︎ (angst)

#⃣ — 718 words

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

Grieving For Someone Alive | C. D|

by wordssricochet ™

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Can you even blame Cedric? Cho Chang was perfect; a witty, beautiful ravenclaw. It was obvious that he would replace you with her. I mean, who wouldn't?

You were just an average hufflepuff. Everything about you is average. Average grades, average looks, average body, your friend group consist of 2-5 people only. You were just so average.

That was exactly the reason why you broke things off with Cedric. He was out of your league. He was the complete opposite of you.

"Y/N, Y/N..Y/N! You good? " Your friend, Adriana asks, "You're staring at them again.. Are you sure that you're okay?" She added, with a worried gaze.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be okay? I'm the one that broke up with him, remember? "

"Yeah, just checking up on you."

You've convinced yourself that you're not even allowed to miss him, because after all, you broke things off.

But, oh, how you miss his cheeky smile. His cute laughs that would make heads turn whenever people hear that melody. You miss the boy that you lost, and there's no turning back now.

You almost felt bad for yourself, but you remembered that you bought this upon yourself. You deserved it. If only you were confident about yourself, maybe you guys were still together.

❃.✮:▹　◃:✮.❃❃.✮:▹　◃:✮.❃❃.✮:▹　◃:✮.❃❃.✮:▹　◃:✮.❃

You saw him again, him with his perfect girlfriend. You admit it yourself, they look perfect together — something that no one would even think about when you both were still dating.

"Staring again, L/N? " Casey asks. You nod, not having any more energy to deny.

Casey smiled at you warily, "It's okay, Y/N, it'll be all fine."

"But what if it won't?" You hooted, "What if these feelings will never go away? "

"You're grieving for nothing, Y/N," She lectures, "He'd already moved on, what are we going to do about that? Use Imperio on him?"

"... it's just.." You sigh, "I want to forget about him."

Casey's eyes widen, "You mean..? "

"Yes, " You gave her a sad smile.

She accepted, "Let's meet at the Black Lake after class, okay? "

"Deal."

*+:｡.｡　｡.｡:+**+:｡.｡　｡.｡:+**+:｡.｡　｡.｡:+**+:｡.｡　｡.｡:+*

"Ready, Y/N? " Casey asks, her wand pointing at you.

"As always. "

"Obliviate! " She yells, a bright strike hits you.

You dropped to the ground almost immediately as a lightning look-a-like hit you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

After the incident — which you have no idea of — you have been undoubtedly happy. Always giggling and smiling. Some might call you a "happy-go-lucky girl" in which the name makes you laugh even harder.

The people from your house noticed the sudden change in your behavior. Who wouldn't? Ever since you broke up with Diggory you looked depressed every single day. And now, you're super happy? What is happening?

Cedric noticed the change in your demeanor, too. He would never admit it but he was always worried when you go to the great hall, looking like a storm went by your dorm last night.

He wanted to talk to you, to at least get some closure about your break up. It was never clear to him why you wanted him gone. He was sure that he treated you right, what changed?

He wanted to get you off his mind, so he started dating Cho Chang. It might sound cruel, even for him, but he loved you dearly to just forget about you in 2 days. It has always been you, always been.

He excused himself to his friends. He wanted to talk to you, since you seem fine now. He walks toward where you're seated, between Casey and Adriana.

"Y/N? Can we talk? " He starts, staring down at you.

"I'm sorry but, who are you? " You look genuinely confused. And he looked absolutely discombobulated.

What do you mean by who he is? You guys dated for 2 years!

Until he realized what had happened. He looks at Adriana and Casey, they looked apologetic.

"She asked me to. " Casey sighs, "She wanted to. "

Cedric was livid, you can immediately notice his change in demeanor. His eyes widened, his nose almost fuming. He looks like he could pop a vein.

Until he gained some consciousness in the real world. He looks at you, worried.

Did he really hurt you this much that you wanted to use a spell on yourself just to forget him? He didn't even know the reason why you broke up with him. You were cruel.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻

💬 — Help me, I hate this fic sm☹️. Miscommunication is one of the tropes that I truly DESPISE, but I wanted to post something already and I literally have no creativity in me:p. Anyway, I MIGHT edit this ENTIRELY. I hate this sm, I feel like it didn't explain the plot clearly to the readers.

Sincerely, March

[elliespassagerprincess]

Omg if you’d be willing to do another boy genius song I loved the first one so much could you do cool about it it’s my favorite from them 🫶

Cool about it - (ellie williams x reader)

hi anon! I would love to do another boygenius one, I literally love them and thank you for the compliment! I hope you enjoy:)

This story is based off the song Cool about it by Boygenius, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are always open, feel free to send one! you can send me a song and I'll take it from there!

HUGE Warning: mental illness, murder, descriptions of murder, gore, mentions of touching a body, a small description of a dead animal, and Ellie being unhinged (as per usual)

Summary: if Ellie couldn't have you, she'd make sure no one else ever will.

wc: 1.7k

Met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool

And make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos

Ask you easy questions about work and school

I'm trying to be cool about it

Feelin' like an absolute fool about it

Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

Tellin' myself I can always do without it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

When Ellie met you, she knew her life was going to change. Whether it was for better or for worse, she didn't care.

Dina recently came out as bisexual and according to her, she needed to "meet hot girls". She dragged Ellie to a local lesbian bar and Ellie hated every fucking second of it.

She wanted to go home so fucking bad. She wanted to sleep-

"hi"

Ellie's thoughts were interrupted when she heard a voice talking from behind her. The voice of an angel, she would describe it. That voice that changed her entire life, from that moment on.

Ellie turned her head to see you.

And yeah maybe coming to the bar that night wasn't such a bad idea.

The two of you talked for hours about how shitty your college is, you talked about how Ellie wanted a promotion at the Café she was currently working at. The two of you made fun of the bartenders neck tattoos.

It was a really a night to remember.

Ellie had gotten your number and she immediately asked you out on date. And you quickly said yes. I mean, who wouldn't? It's Ellie Williams.

You made Ellie feel like a fucking fool. You were making her do things she's never done before.

She showed up to the restaurant 2 hours early, so she could choose the best table, so she could make sure the area was safe.

Her palms were wet with sweat the closer as she watched the minutes go by as she was waiting for you.

Ellie's eyes lit up when you walked info the restaurant, the air in her lungs were knocked out as you walked towards her.

You were beautiful.

"Hi" you gave her a small smile before she got up to hug you. As Ellie wrapped her arms around you, the scent of your perfume overtook her senses.

The two of you fit together like a puzzle pieces.

The date was amazing. You talked like you had known each other for years, despite only knowing each other a week at that point in time.

As the evening came to an end you told Ellie something she didn't want to hear.

"Look I'm not looking for something serious, just casual hook ups that's all. No feelings attached"

"no feelings?" Ellie asked in shock

"Yeah" you replied. "Just be cool about it"

How could she be cool with only hooking up with the girl, she thought was her soulmate?

I came prepared for absolution, if you'd only ask

So I take some offense when you say, "No regrets"

I remember it's impossible to pass your test

But I'm trying to forget about it

Feelin' like I'm breaking a sweat about it

Wishin' you would kindly get out of my head about it

Tellin' myself one day I'll forget about it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

Ellie hoped that one day you'd call her and say that you regret only hooking up with her. She hoped that you'd tell her that you wanted more than sex.

But at this rate Ellie doesn't think that will happen.

You'd only call her when you were alone or bored, and Ellie being stupid and in love, always went.

She'd drop everything for you.

She knows this is toxic, being in love with someone you know will never fucking love you is bad.

But Ellie hoped this was a test.

She hoped you were testing her, testing her loyalty. It was unlikely, but she always had hope.

You were in Ellies mind, like a fucking plague. Like a fly that wouldn't go away.

Everything she looked at, everything she smelt or touched reminded her of you. And she was sick of it.

She saw you in her dream, and in her nightmares. Ellie saw you everywhere.

She already couldn't have you, now you were haunting her.

Is this some kind of joke? Did you ask a spell on her?

She'd beg the stars above to have mercy on her. To make her even forget about your existence entirely. But she couldn't.

You were there to stay. To haunt her. To mock her. Maybe one day she'll move on, but for now she has to deal with being with your side chick.

If only you'd given her a chance, you'd still be alive right now.

Once, I took your medication to know what it's like

And now I have to act like I can't read your mind

I ask you how you're doing and I let you lie

"Ellie when last have you taken your medication?" Joel asked as he walked into Ellie's room.

Empty plates and cups littered the room as he saw a few bugs run around.

Ellie's head snapped towards the door when she heard him talk.

"Ellie you know you need it" Joel tried talking with her again

"I dont"

"you'll hurt someone if you don't drink it" he tried reasoning with her

"I'm fine, I won't hurt anyone"

"don't lie Ellie"

"Joel get the fuck out" and with a sigh Joel left the room.

"I need to get into her mind" Ellie spoke aloud even though there was no one there.

"She left me Barry... why would she leave me for her?"

She needed to know why you didn't want her. She needed to know why you chose some blonde bitch over her.

She was cool with the arrangement that the two of you had. Strictly sex and nothing else. She got to see you, she got to spend time with you, but now that you have someone else.

You stopped seeing her.

What made Abby so special, that you could commit to her and not to Ellie? What was wrong with her?

"What can we do?"

"Hurt her? No that's not nice Barry" she told him.

"Wait so you're saying if we kill her no one will touch her?" She asked him.

"If she says no i'll hurt her...yeah thanks Barry"

Ellie excitedly got up from her bed as she reached out to grab her phone. She quickly texted you asking you to come over because the two of you had to talk about something important.

You said you'd be there in an hour and grin spread across Ellie's face.

Joel had left the house to go to see Ellie's therapist. He was very fucking concerned and he was afraid for his own safety.

Joel knew there was something wrong with Ellie since she was 5 years old.

She was playing out in the garden, before Joel called her in a for dinner. But Ellie excitedly told him "come look, I made a friend!"

With smile Joel walked out, but his smile was soon overcome with pure horror and shock.

Blood littered the grass a squirrel lay there cut in half.

Joel turned to Ellie as she looked at him with a big smile.

"Barry made me do it!"

Therapy session after therapy session, but yet no one knew why a 5 year old was killing animals.

They told Joel he was being overdramatic, that she was just acting out. But the older Ellie grew, the more violent her acts became.

She killed animals, she hurt her friends. She wasn't a kid acting out, she was a girl with a serious problem.

They gave her medication, to keep whoever Barry was quite. Without barry Ellie lived a happy life. A peaceful life.

But now, because of you, for the first time in years, she heard Barry talk to her again.

Barry always knew best in Ellie's eyes.

Ellie quickly cleaned the living room, before she hopped into the shower. All you needed to do was say yes, and she wouldn't hurt you.

Just say yes.

But we don't have to talk about it

I can walk you home and practice method acting

I'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning

Tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing

Even though we know it isn't true

"please give me one chance" Ellie begged.

She watched you lower your heard as you let out a sigh.

"Ellie I can't, you know I don't feel the same way"

"Please try" she begged.

She hoped you would say yes. She didn't want to hurt you. You would be ok, you would walk out of here alive if only you said yes to her.

The love Ellie had for you was killing her. It felt like she was drowning.

Either you let her love you or she'd make sure nobody would ever love you again.

Ellie felt the cold blade of the knife dig into her back. She had hid the knife behind the chair she was sitting at and all she wanted was for you to say yes.

She needed you to just give her a chance and everybody would be happy. Everybody would be safe and you would leave alive.

"Ellie I said no"

Ellie's eye slightly twitched as she took a deep breathe. She closed her eyes lowering her head into her hands.

why didn't you just say yes?

She got up grabbing the knife, hiding it behind her back as she made her way towards you.

With tears in her eyes, Ellie looked at you and said "you should've said yes"

You looked at Ellie as she towered over you, you opened your mouth to say something but you suddenly felt something cold in your shoulder.

You looked to your seeing there was a knife, with eyes wide you looked back at Ellie as you let out a whimper.

"Why?" You asked her, as you felt the unbearable pain in your shoulder.

"you should've said yes" Ellie repeated, as she removed the blade from your shoulder.

You let out a cry, when the blade was pulled from your shoulder.

You tried moving away from Ellie, but she was bigger than you and much stronger. You had nowhere to run and all you could do was accept your fate.

Ellie brought the knife down as she stabbed you in the stomach.

"You should've said yes" she repeated.

The knife was pulled from my stomach, and she slashed your left cheek.

"You should've said yes"

She brought the knife directly into your eye socket.

"You should've said yes" she repeated as she slit your throat.

"You should've said yes" Ellie yelled as she repeatedly brought the knife down, stabbing you all over your body.

Blood spattered everywhere, and there wasn't an inch of your skin that was left uncut or without blood.

The last words you ever heard that day was "you should've said yes"

maybe you should have.

Ellie threw the knife somewhere in the room as heavy breathes left her mouth. Ellie looked down at your body, with a small smile on your face.

"We did it", she muttered to herself.

Ellie gently placed your still warm, and still bleeding body onto the floor, before she got onto her knees to give you a kiss on your forehead.

"I'm sorry I hurt you" she brought her hand up to wipe the blood from your lips.

"but it had to be done"

She lowered herself onto your chest. Ellie lay there cuddling with your dead body, she closed her eyes and she let out a hum of approval.

She's definitely has to thank Dina for taking her to that bar.

Authors note: well I've been posting everyday for the last 4 days and I'm so sorry for spamming, but I have so many requests and I'm trying to get everything done for yall. So just know for the next few days, I'll be feeling you with ALOT of content lmfao.Remember you are loved and to always be kind. I love you all.

Yours truly,

Zia:)

[silent-sanctum]

would like to request jotaro with f!reader who has a very sensitive waist... and he accidentally finds out when they get attacked by a stand user and he grabs her by the waist to get out of the way and she accidentally moans and he realizes 😏also stardust crusaders setting

Sooo hey 👋 Sorry I just got to you anon. The time you sent this request was when I was still knee-deep in school work (and i thought my requests were closed) but I figured I should make you a short fic regardless. Enjoy!

Sensitive - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 1.3k

There were a lot of things you never knew about yourself and unfortunately this was one of them.

Apparently, your reception to touch was sensitive… really sensitive to the point where one tiny poke would make you jump and squeal like a child, or one cut on your arm would sting like hell.

But there was also that one embarrassing discovery about that skin sensitivity that your head wouldn’t let you forget. Ever.

An enemy Stand had ambushed the Crusaders in the middle of the desert and the group had to deal with the problem before the person could do something worse. This Stand’s ability in particular was simple and it involved homing projectiles that were persistent on tracking its target down for a solid minute or two.

The user was cocky enough to let himself be seen by everyone at a distance, confident that you won’t be able to survive the multiple flying arrows shooting around and about.

You had suggested that Avdol and Kakyoin be the one to deal with the enemy since their Stand’s attacks were long-ranged and able to release their own projectiles back, and to create that opening the others could distract the arrows away from them.

For a while, the plan worked. The two managed to make them invisible from the sensors of the arrows, and for them to chase after you, Jotaro, Polnareff, and Mr. Joestar instead. The whole situation grew more annoying than threatening the longer this went on, constantly having to dodge and duck every new second maybe even deflect some of them if possible.

And for some reason, even if you did well so far evading the homing projectiles, it didn’t occur to you that while you dodged one arrow, you forgot the other heading straight for you.

“Y/N!”

And this was the moment you remembered with vivid recollection.

In an instant, you gasped as a strong arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you back, barely missing the sharp tip zipping past you. Oh, someone just pulled me away from death. You figured because that was over, the arm would let go. It didn’t.

“Hey I think you can-” You turned to the person who pulled you away and paused immediately, heat creeping up your neck when you realized that it was Jotaro who did it- your crush ever since meeting that first time during a group project. And it just occurred to you that again… his arm secured itself around your waist.

And it looked like he hadn’t noticed that he didn’t let you go yet. Knowing that it was him holding you combined with the fact that a simple press of your waist was sending jolts and jolts of tingling sensation throughout your veins made you feel like a fuming mess. “Uhm-”

“Watch out,” You couldn’t say what you needed to say when he jumped out of the way of another arrow with you still in his grip, and there was that one spot that got touched when his arm tightened just then that sent another mind tingling feel under your skin. You had to bite your tongue to not do anything inappropriate. He should let go before this gets worse.

But Jotaro still hadn’t noticed you were still in his arm, too focused on eyeing every single projectile flying around, but you couldn’t entirely focus on them when you were feeling many things at once with every second his arm continued to press against the sensitive sides of your waist.

All it took was another arrow aimed at you for the infamous memory to happen.

Jotaro tugged you in, holding you with both arms and pressing your whole body against his chest when multiple arrows zipped past you.

But with the strong pressure around your body, together with every inch of your heated skin now brushing up against the muscled frame of the delinquent, you couldn’t hold back the audible moan you held in for the longest time, breathy and unintentionally prolonged.

You froze.

As did Jotaro.

And an ice cold bucket of water washed you when you realized what happened. In an instant, heat rushed up your neck and flooded the entirety of your face and ears, and you couldn’t even hide yourself when your arms are trapped to your side. He didn’t look any better with the way he couldn’t move at all with those red-tipped ears and tightened lips.

It didn’t click to both of you that Kakyoin managed to take down the enemy Stand user and that the group gathered to recollect themselves after that inconvenience.

Awkwardly, you finally stepped out of his hold and cleared your throat. “Uh, I- well- the team’s done so…”

Without looking at you, Jotaro shoved his hands into his pockets, feigning casualness as if he hadn’t blushed as well. “Looks like it…”

“I’m just gonna, you know… head on over there… with the others.” You chuckled nervously.

He nodded and so you bolted, still fuming with shame and disbelief.

Now you can’t think of any way you could approach Jotaro after that.

It would be alright if the group kept moving and everyone’s minds would eventually forget what just happened, but unfortunately for you, traversing at night was a bad idea and god forbid you were to sleep under the scorching daylight sun.

Mr. Joestar managed to get the group to a small town and book out 3 rooms with the same room arrangements done during your stay at Singapore… where you get to share the room with the one person you still didn’t know how to talk to up to now.

Though before any of you could get some shut eye, you all had your dinner first at a nearby eatery without any rude interference of enemies.

I have to clear things up with him. I don’t think I can handle this weird energy of when it’s just us in one room again. Just as Mr. Joestar went to talk things with the cashier and most probably negotiate for a discount, you steeled your resolve and let out a deep exhale.

You timed your approach just as the guys stood from their seats and strode towards the delinquent with all the courage you mustered for the past hours. “Hey,” you started, reaching forward to grab the flap of his school uniform and drawing his attention to you, a brow raised.

Upon eye contact, you hitched your breath for a moment before speaking your mind out. “About earlier, listen… that sound came out involuntarily. You see, I’m sensitive to touch so there’s that too. If that made you uncomfortable, then I’m sorry.”

Jotaro continued to stare, waiting if you had more to say. And you grew even more flustered. “H-Hey! You kept on holding onto me even after pulling me away from that arrow! I could have done just as well as before if you were aware of you keeping me hostage.”

“I was aware.”

Huh?

“You thought I forgot to let you go?” He scoffed. “I’m not that dense. What if I wanted you to make that sound on purpose?”

“Y-You…” On purpose?! Once again, your cheeks fumed a bright red.

“Looks like I made you flustered this time,” To make matters worse, he walked a few more steps towards you, leaning down until his face was beside your ear to whisper into it. “That’s what you get for teasing me all this time on our way here. Don’t think I’m through with you just yet.”

Jotaro pulled back with an obvious, slightly mischievous glint in his eyes as he turned around, amused and satisfied at your current state. “I’ll see you back in the room.” And as if he wanted to hit the nail on the coffin one last time, you yelped a bit too loud when a pair of hands grabbed your waist out of nowhere, pressing in.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, glaring at Star Platinum as he returned to his user with a wide grin meant to imply Jotaro’s delight in turning you into this blushing mess.

“Don’t think I’m through with you just yet.” “I’ll see you back in the room.”

I can’t believe this. You scoffed, hands on your hips as your head remained heated and red. Fucking hell. “That bastard.”

[pearl-kite]

So new Vega audio, right. Heads up this got WAY longer than I meant so uh. Prepare to scroll, I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In advance, I don't even really know when things get posted to youtube time-of-day-wise, so this is probably technically spoiler material, etc etc, and a bit heavily flavored by particular headcanon for the Warden, especially the details of their job.

You work at the Department, your favorite part is psychology-related casework. Sure, the serenity demons have got that corner covered, but you enjoy helping when they're short-handed in between the times you have to do demon-specific tasks like ward maintenance, etc.

You get this fucking file, red flags ALL over it, but you're good at your job, you know how to keep your personal shit separate and not fall for manipulation tactics, but the guy is good. You're also good enough to see through it all, but oh man is he pat.

Shit happens and suddenly you're kidnapped, sort of? And you can see every time he tries to be subtle and nudge you to think one way or another, but he is actually helping you, which yeah, sure that's a manipulation in and of itself, but he's almost nice? You don't agree with a lot of what he says, but there are some points he has that you've had before, but you'll be damned if you're going to let him know that. You can see what he's doing and you're not going to fall for it (maybe that's the problem though, you think you can see it but does that make you overconfident?)

And then when you're finally better he just. Lets you leave. But he gives you an option, and it sounds not only logical, but nice (ah shit did you start to like him? You know he's manipulating you, remember?). So you stick with him. You can leave anytime.

But you don't leave, because maybe you started to forget that he's manipulating you, you saw through it all at the beginning, after all, and there's plenty of evidence that he's not lying about shit going on with that cult.

One day he says he values you, and you immediately think it's a trick, and you can't read his emotions the way he can read yours, but something feels honest about it, and suddenly you believe it when he says you matter, and you like that, you like it a lot, and you think maybe you're a little fucked because you might do anything he asks you to at this point.

And then not even a half hour later something fucking disintegrates him in front of you, which shouldn't have been possible, and it terrifies you and you run. You forget that you can fucking rift away in an instant and you use your fucking feet and sprint, you're so terrified.

Where the fuck are you supposed to go? You ditched your job, even if you were abducted in the first place, do you even have any friends outside of work?

To make things more confusing, some fucking piece of paper materializes out of nowhere for you, and you read it. It feels like a confession, but it's from that bastard so how are you supposed to believe it, and it tells you to just forget him and move on and what the fuck, man, how?

So you read it again, and another couple times, and maybe you end up back at the safe house you had been abducted to at first and you reread it enough that maybe you start to memorize it. And when you finally put it back down to reconsider what you're supposed to do, the thing that killed him suddenly pops in with him alive next to it like he didn't just disintegrate in front of you hours ago.

And he doesn't remember it. He doesn't remember you. He doesn't address you properly, doesn't remember your name and doesn't call you darling. But he does remember? He remembers you but nothing about you? And he begs you to explain what's going on because his memory is about 2000 years old at this point and he doesn't know if there's anyone else that can catch him up.

He's begging, and you don't think this is a trick anymore. For the first time, you're positive he isn't manipulating you, he's pleading.

He asks what your relationship was (good question). You try to hedge and he calls you out. You tell him it's complicated.

What do you mean complicated.

You don't really know how to say "Well, I was your department-appointed therapist of sorts, you abducted me, but then you offered to have me tag along on your mission to save the world and you've manipulated me so much through the whole thing that I can't really tell what was real and what wasn't and then you died in front of me and left me this note that honestly just made it more unclear what we were," so you stick with "You died and left me this note" and hand him the piece of paper you already memorized to read.

And he doesn't just read it to himself, he reads it out loud, so you get to hear the fucking thing in his voice now, and why does he sound so shaken by the request to forget him, does he hate reading that part as much as you did?

He finishes the letter and doesn't understand why you said it was complicated, that made it sound pretty straightforward, why would he have called you darling and dearest and praised you like that if it hadn't been straightforward?

You don't know what else to say, and thank god he drops it, but even though he knows now what he called you he keeps addressing you wrong and you hate it, you're not just an inchoate you're his warden, but he asks if you'll keep helping him and you almost want to say of course you idiot but you just say you will.

Anyway I was very insane about this last night, I don't know if this accurately gets that across, but then again it's about 5 times longer than I meant so maybe that's the insanity.

I've never really been good at putting my reactions into words, it never quite gets across the vibrating flailing aaaaaa feel that my brain goes through, but be assured my brain is vibrating flailing aaaaaa

[tossawary]

Watching "Star Trek: Strange New Worlds" is a lot of fun. I want to be clear that I'm enjoying myself, perhaps especially because the show suffers from many of the same issues as all previous "Star Trek" shows and I like picking at Doylist versus Watsonian explanations for things.

In one of the episodes of Season 2, all of the characters on the ship are suffering from this supernatural memory loss. They don't remember who they are or what they're meant to be doing. This issue hits the Enterprise over the course of many hours, enough time for senior members of the crew to become aware of the issue and decide that the Enterprise needs to get away from what's probably causing the issue. As a precaution, Spock even hands out datapads with personnel files to remind people of their own identities.

Unfortunately, this doesn't work out, because the memory loss apparently includes the ability to read. And I was immediately like, "Why didn't they ask the computer to periodically remind them of the situation? Why didn't they go into lockdown and set a looping announcement to keep everyone calm?" And it does turn out later on in the episode that the day is saved because the helmswoman accidentally prompts the ship's computer to remind her of who she is and what her role is. And I immediately pointed at the screen and the person I was watching with laughed.

The episode was fun and fairly solid. I find a lot about this show to be comparable to all previous "Star Trek" shows. But it IS amusing that this episode hinges on the idea that the senior officers of the ship who are supposedly pretty good on-their-feet problem-solvers, including a logically-minded Vulcan science officer, would not develop SEVERAL background plans in the event of further memory loss. Like, uh, carrying around datapads with personnel files is a single point of failure? And far less reliable than asking the computer to herd the crew and make announcements? What if someone drops their datapad? Should you not immediately strive to take a variety of precautions for everyone's safety? Your backups should have backups!

It's also amusing that the episode hinges on needing the helmswoman to pilot their way out of an asteroid field or whatever, because that really seems like something that should be trivial for the ship's computer. I don't remember if the episode gave us a sci-fi mumbo-jumbo excuse as to why a person needed to do it. But a human being just doesn't have the same reaction time or field of awareness as a computer, especially one 200 years in the future; maybe we don't want to rely on a computer all of the time, but there SHOULD realistically speaking be some background program that allows the ship's computer to plot a course in the event of an emergency. And it's a little ridiculous from an in-universe perspective to think that an organization like Starfleet would not have those backups already.

Like, I come from a background of more scientifically-minded problem-solvers with a handful of memory issues to their names, so we've adapted with techniques to cope with forgetting shit sometimes, and I just cannot fully suspend my disbelief regarding some of the things the writers has Starfleet do for plot reasons. So much can go wrong in space even before you bring glow clouds into it! Good engineers are paranoid fuckers! What can go wrong WILL go wrong.

(We watched the first episode of "Star Trek: Lower Decks" last night and I found it delightful. It IS set in the era of "The Next Generation", but nevertheless you'd think that Captain Pike and crew should have developed a series of "the entire crew has lost their minds again" protocols by now, and "Lower Decks" is lovingly making fun of that in the same vein as "Galaxy Quest".)

Thankfully, I mostly find this discrepancy for drama's sake funny.

In one of the earlier episodes, it was basically the show doing their own version of / a tribute to "Alien". And I have a great fondness for the original "Alien", so that was kind of fun to see. Nice. But if you do stop to, like, actually think about what's happening, this sequence of events is only really happening because 1a) you didn't send piloted drones in first to try to retrieve any logs about what happened and 1b) search for survivors without recklessly endangering half of the senior bridge crew.

2) None of these people are wearing protective suits or shield generators or whatever. They have BARE FACES when this destroyed ship they're exploring could have been taken down by a plague for all they know. None of the characters are ever even wearing HATS when they go to cold locations, because filmmakers don't like obscuring actor faces or ruining their hair. This episode is, for understandable reasons, prioritizing drama over... uh, indicating that Starfleet has decent safety regulations that include personal protective equipment.

3) They send EVERYONE into the spooky destroyed ship instead of holding various crewmembers back. Like, uh, maybe you should leave someone in the shuttle in case something goes wrong? There's an ion storm preventing transporter use and interfering with communicators again, sure, but... Starfleet hasn't developed a series of communication protocols besides "Aw, fuck, communicator's broke, better wait it out"? There's no alternate radio-esque technology that would allow for short range communication between an exploration crew and a grounded shuttle crew? You don't have a temporary communications machine to drop onto a planet? You can't even have little drones physically carry messages between the shuttle and the exploration crew?

Like, yes, I understand why the writers did things this way. "Star Trek" has such miraculous technology that writers have to fight for their fucking lives every episode to explain why the miracle technology isn't working this time. Nevertheless, when crewmembers start dying because Starfleet apparently doesn't have, like, decent safety protocols and backups, I am going to think in the back of my mind: "Okay, this redshirt's death is kind of on you guys this time. Send in a damn robot first."

[fortemelody]

I'm bored so imma send an ask but what are your Amy Rose headcanons?

HI HELLO IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!! i didn’t know how to answer it and then i got busy and then i forgot but i’m here now!

and tbh i still don’t entirely know how to answer it becus im not someone who makes headcannons very often. i usually just see some on my feed and be like “oh yeah that’s so them” and then immediately forget about it LMAO but i do have a couple even tho they are a bit basic and so i’ll try to describe those few in as great detail as possible

knuckles and amy are sibling 100%. they have that dynamic for sure! they train together and they tease each other. amy’s in the small demographic of few people he trusts too. many have also pointed out that they look similar and some people hc her as part echidna which im not really opposed to either

amy and shadow are definitely besties. whenever sonic is too stubborn to do “girly” things such as try on makeup for example, shadow would do that with her instead. he doesn’t care about his public image unlike sonic. music is something that brings them together too, seeing as we already know that they’re both swifties and went to hot honey! and she was the one who brought him back to his senses in the ending of SA2 (which btw im praying that the third movie has that scene aughdkftk). shadow has a clear soft spot for her that can only be brought out by amy. i feel like the next follow up question would be if i ship them and the answer is…not really?! i think it would be a situation where maybe amy is a bit touchy at times without realizing it and shadow blushes, or shadow does stuff to make sonic jealous (to clarify them hanging out in general is purely becus shadow wants to -not just an act so he can get back at sonic- but i think it would be funny if he would take the opportunity to brag about it when sonic gets on his nerves). i do not think either of them would actually date tho even with these one off situations and they are way better as platonic besties fr ong ‼️

this one is a bit random but i’ve always thought of amy being like… a starbucks addicted girly (in the world of mobius- not irl where they could possibly be funding a genocide 😭). and it’s kinda an ironic thing in my mind. yes, she’s the least ordinary girl you could get: wields a giant hammer, incredibly strong, is hyperfixated on and can use tarot cards as weapons, and has an indescribable intuition. however, calling back to the events of SA1, she really is just a normal hedgehog at the end of the day trying to lead a normal life. she had to learn all of these attributes, she wasn’t really born with an ability like the rest of team sonic. she also lived in an apartment for part of sonic x (i think?? haven’t watched the full series and i don’t remember everything) and actually liked it. so i think she would really enjoy simple more earth like customs. i think she honestly might be embarrassed of this fact too, seeing as she’s come all this way in her life just to resort to her old ways of living.

(…okay i’m gonna be honest that last one was a bit of a stretch and it originated from me and my friend calling her a basic white girl at one point as a joke LMAO but then i thought more about it and it kinda made sense once i put it into context)

the last one is a concept i kinda stole from a comic i saw a long time ago (i have no idea of the username- but if someone does lemme know). it was the idea that sonic started liking amy once she had started to move on, how the “chasing” kinda switched roles, and after she dialed down her “fangirling”. how sonic now wants her to be obsessed after she’s made so much progress in being her own person. i kinda wrote a fanfic based off of this and expanded upon my interpretation of it through amy’s POV. although i never posted it, i think the words i chose still capture it well so i’m just gonna copy and paste that:

“When Amy started to slowly change her childish and obnoxious mannerisms towards Sonic, he immediately felt more comfortable around her, and even started subtly reciprocating his feelings to her. Amy was obviously maturing no doubt about it, but she felt as if she had lost a part of herself in doing so. That side of her that would boldly protect and proclaim her love to him. That side to her that wouldn’t stop until she got her way. That side of her that was, as Jewel stated “…constantly following him”. She felt as if she had given up so much of her personality just to feel less incomplete, to have that soulmate she always dreamed about. On top of that, Sonic loved to come and go as he pleases. She knows that he was always going to be the adventuring type, but she wish more often that he would make an effort to chat or to invite her to tag along. Chaos knows when she tries to plan anything with him, she’s too paranoid for her own good, wondering if he’ll instantly interpret it as a date and chicken out.”

-different scene-

“Amy was surely blushing before, but nothing could’ve prepared her for that statement. She felt her heart beating, no, throbbing out of control. She looked like a full on tomato now. It’s always been her dream to dance with Sonic, but in the past he always ran away, so she gave up after several attempts. But this was the “new” her. He liked the “new” her, apparently enough to dance with him.”

(ik a lot of this doesn’t make sense without more context but uhhh this is getting too long already so if you wanna know details just DM me ig 💀)

and if it wasn’t obvious already- i take a lot of what is said in the twitter takeovers, tailstube, and idw comics to heart becus i think they have the most genuine and interesting versions of these characters and tell us about small details that we wouldn’t otherwise know. i not only make this info my hcs but also like to expand upon them and use them in my evidence- so that’s what most of the things i said above are referencing.

sooo yeah i think that’s all i got. sorry i guess a lot of these were more about dynamics of character interactions rather than amy herself… i hope that’s okay! tysm anon this was a lotta fun to answer and i hope to get more of these types of questions!!

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 26, 2021 4:00 a.m. a balcony, somewhere

time somehow seems to simultaneously slow to a crawl and race beyond the speed of light. grant doesn’t remember when they’d ended up perched like lovebirds at the pinnacle of a staircase, peering out over the night-drenched landscape, but it must have been a while ago. customers have long since stopped streaming in and out of the restaurant on the street below.

he remembers in better detail the stream of their conversation–they’d shifted from food and a strangely peaceful, humorous discussion of kicking the bucket to movies, and at some point, paranormal stories came up along the way.

it’d be hard to forget talking to yunha.

there’s something curiously enrapturing about her, something that had drawn him to her when he first made eye-contact with her.

the look in her eyes, maybe. it’s piercing, like she’s baring right through your skin and into your soul, but not malicious or judgmental. it’s friendly, it’s curious, it’s playful.

the way she speaks, maybe. she’s the most engaged conversationalist he’s ever encountered. everything you say, whether she agrees or disagrees, is met with affirmations and a lot of nodding. yes, yes, of course. i see, i see. i understand. ohhh, wow! really?

she’s unraveling every shard of the puzzle that is his personality and piecing it back together in one whole picture, analyzing it. figuring it out. appreciating it.

or maybe it’s the sweetness that radiates off her. she appears unafraid to smile, instead all too happy to flash those pretty, crooked bunny teeth for the world to see.

“so, i'm going to guess you’re not accidentally good at singing.”

she seems not to mind revealing her own puzzle pieces either, and the more she says about herself, the more fascinated he is with her. with who she is. with what makes her tick.

“i hope it’s not an accident,” yunha replies, laughing, “because shit, then years worth of practice was a waste.”

“time enjoyed is never time wasted.”

the unabashed cringe of the line garners an immediate eye roll, but she still seems to find it funny.

they’ve definitely been sitting here a while. grant straightens his back, fixing his gradually slouching posture, and is is met with an immediate flash of pain, distinct from the chronic dull ache underlying every day of his life, that radiates down every vertebra.

“what got you into music, though?”

yunha’s rosy pink lips purse in thought as she dwells on the question.

“a lot of things. my parents like music. i listened to a lot of different kinds of songs my whole life, first with them, and then later with my friends. i had some time between classes and studying to spend having fun, but i couldn't spend any money, so my friends and i would go to this music store. we walked around and picked random albums to listen to on the headphones. we never bought anything.”

grant nods supportively. “what’s, like, the first album you remember really liking? or albums. you don’t have to pick one.”

“ah! i treasure so many albums. seo taiji and boys IV. i think that’s still my favorite nostalgic album ever. i also remember fondly, um, this girl’s in love with you by aretha franklin. i heard that at the music store, and i was so impressed by her talent. i still am.”

“i'm not a music expert. surprise! i know, i know, i'm sorry to tell you, i did not practice for centuries for that wonderful spice girls performance earlier. no, but seriously, i most often just listen to the same old emo stuff i liked when i was 13. so, unfortunately i don’t know the first album at all, at least not yet, but i do know the second one. you have fantastic taste, that’s a classic.”

despite his ignorance, yunha still smiles from ear to ear. “you should look up the first one! look up, like, seo taiji ‘come back home.’ that’s the most popular song on the album. i don’t wanna bias you, so listen on your own and make your own opinions.”

“wilco. and if you don’t mind me asking, how’d you turn the interest in music into a skill? you are talented, but i know it's very much a skill. it does take a lot of practice to become tangibly good at music.”

“to express myself,” yunha says plainly, “it’s easier to tell your story in art than talking about it, and singing is free. you don’t need supplies to learn it. but yes, i needed that kind of outlet, you know? i always liked singing, always did it, but i needed more than only entertainment from it over time.”

“oh yeah, art is helpful. i really should have gotten on that train earlier. i got on board about a year ago. it's much better for you than intellectualizing everything. or at least that's what i tend to do. do you perform, by the way? outside of karaoke, that is."

"sometimes. but also, not in a long time."

there falls a brief, but peaceful lull in the conversation. grant’s eyes draw to black night sky as he recalls the last haphazard art he’d created–the mushy-gushy attempt at processing the universe. seeing it hanging above him now, his thoughts are no less conflicting. light pollution washes out the shining sea of stars, but the sky still retains its beauty, its bewilderment. visible or not, an infinite chain of dimensions and celestial bodies exist in the vacuum of space, orbiting independent of him, yet factoring in the tiny fraction of his mass on the mass of the earth in their delicate ballerina dance across the fabric of spacetime.

the universe must have created me for some reason, for something other than anguish.

his own words. again. ever-present.

“i miss seeing the stars.” yunha’s buttery soft voice breaks his concentration. “you can’t see anything here.”

“polaris.” grant raises his left arm and draws his index finger across the sky until it hovers above the only star he’s seen thus far. “technically, that means we should be able to see sirius, too, but we don’t need to get all science-y and talk about magnitude and that polaris isn’t–”

“i would like it if you did.”

she was thinking of the stars, too.

synchronicity.

“aw shucks! well. i’ll say this, polaris isn’t the brightest star. we just talk about it way more frequently because it has the most cultural significance in the northern hemisphere for, you know, navigation reasons. but hey, give it about 12,000 more years, and it even won’t be the north star anymore. thank you, wobbly earth axis. but also boo, woobly earth axis, because it's a little sad to think about.”

yunha’s eyes glitter with fascination. “it’ll be something else?”

“yep! the next north star will be vega,” he explains, “come on down, you’re the next contestant!”

“maybe we’ll see it happen.”

“if my consciousness is still floating around as little dust particles, that’d be pretty sick. you know? forget fly me to the moon, fly me to vega. why not?”

“i don’t think i'll be dust,” yunha says, not missing a beat at all, even as her focus remains fixed on the faintest twinkle emanating from polaris, “it’s kind of troubling. you don’t want to be, like, stuck in the whole cycle of the universe, but if you’re still here, you can see some really beautiful things.”

“ah. reincarnation?”

“if you’re asking me, you’re not going to be dust. either you escape the suffering or you come back in some kind of physical form, human or not, and you try again.”

grant thinks about it for a moment. and then the feelings, like usual, spill out at once.

“i'm not going to lie, that idea has always given me the heebie-jeebies. i think it’s very cool as a concept, but i'm, like, man, i don’t want to do this shit again. also, look, we're doing the thing again. oh, and shit, that sounded judgmental. i just run my mouth too much."

"most people don't know they lived before. you can't really remember your other lives without a lot of study," she answers, "and no, you don't. i prefer to hear your real opinion. it's actually stupid when people tell you what they think you want to hear."

"do you ever wonder what you were up to last go-around?"

"not too much, but i always heard strange birthmarks and scars are signs from your last death. fears, too. things you avoid. so, i guess, like, a clown stabbed me in the neck with needles."

"are you afraid of storm drains, by any chance? if so, i think pennywise had it out for you."

"hahaha." yunha shakes her head. "wait, i have to ask. is it not worse thinking you can only live once? that's not uncomfortable? feeling like you have to make everything perfect in your one lifetime?"

"oh no, it's terrifying. dying and just being done with everything is eerie, too, because there are nice things to do and see here in the real world. you’re right about that. and yeah, there is a lot of pressure to get it all right. also, that's not even mentioning that there are people i love that i don’t want to be gone forever. i'd like to think they remain somehow. conscious or not. i kind of think they do, but i don’t know. am i contradicting myself? capital-P probably."

“you don’t know what to think.”

grant immediately bursts out laughing. “yeah, no, absolutely not. i do not know. i just kinda waffle around and hope some scientist throws out some numbers and whatnot that proves some explanation of everything correct. but that’s impossible. it’s literally impossible. we can’t even simulate or predict the wacky physics that were going on at the exact moment the big bang happened.”

“not to be, like, all quirky, but...” yunha reaches over, patting him on the shoulder. “maybe don’t think about it? you’re gonna go crazy. you can just not know? and it's fine. this doesn’t mean anything anyway. the answer to anything is already in you, it’s not out there.”

and then she, too, starts giggling all over again and her cheeks blush deep red from sheepish cringe.

another stereotypical line, but he doesn't mind. they sound better coming from her than him anyhow.

a second later and she checks the time on her phone. her cheesy smile erodes into a slight frown.

“ahh, i really need to leave soon. i have a schedule in the morning.”

grant checks the time as well, drawing the sleeve of his hoodie up just enough to read the minuscule roman numerals on his watch.

on the watch an ex-girlfriend gifted him. not päivi, but...

4:00 a.m.

fuck.

right.

you’re leaving the country in two hours.

[iluvshinytwink]

Trent with school smart, but emotionally/socially dumb, and a very sensitive gf and he gets frustrated with her and yells at her and she bursts out crying making him feel bad and both end up crying but with a fluff ending I love ur angsty works😩

Sensitivity - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Summary: After a harsh game where Trent wants nothing more but to hold you close and pure silence, you come to him ranting about your lesson and Trent gets frustrated and lashes out on you.

Now Playing . . . How To Disappear by Lana Del Rey

A/N: tell me why i forgot to put other players in my first introduction, anyways thank u for requesting and liking my works!!! this'll be the first time i'll post about trent so i hope u enjoy this! <33

put on some mother lana so i hope she'll bring out the angsty words from my dictionary and into this goofy oneshot 😈🤞🤞

Trent sighs to himself, his body ached of pain and his eyes drooped low. He was worn out and even though the game was done he felt his heart beating faster due to the adrenaline. He took off his shoes and all he could think about was you. Your warm body which he wanted to embrace, your soft hair which he wanted to run his fingers through, your eyes which he wanted to be lost in, your lips that curled into a smile and which he wanted to kiss senselessly, to forget everything.

He felt his chest close in, his mind thought of nothing but you. He was happy the game was over, he could drive home and run into your arms, melting into your body as you played with his dreads with a book in your hand.

Trent steps into his car, quickly turning it on, he wanted to be home as quick as possible. As he drives his mind started remembering the subtle moments he wanted to experience again tonight.

Trent had his head on your chest, eyes closed. His arms wrapped around your waist, almost protectively. With your right arm you played with his dreads, humming a tune from a song. And with your left hand was a book, reading silently. He remembers the way your chest rhythmically pumped up and down, he was lulled by your soft humming and eventually fell asleep.

He smiles at the sweet memory and continues driving.

Trent opens your front door, being met with silence. He was a bit upset that you weren't immediately there to greet him hello and maybe engulf him in a hug. He softly sighs, letting the things in his hand fall freely on the ground.

"Babe?" your boyfriend called out as he took off his shoes. No response.

His body ached by the second and gave up on the idea to search for you. He let his body freely fall into the couch, a deep sigh escaping his lips. He closed his eyes as he hoped he'd drift to sleep and when he wakes up you'd be beside him, also sleeping.

Suddenly, fast footsteps descended a flight of stairs.

"Trent!" you exclaimed. Trent immediately felt his eyes open and even though his body felt numb he sat up, there you were-- the person he craved for. "Hi--" he said but he was cut off. "Ugh! Today was such a pain in the ass!" you groaned, folding your arms together. He felt his eyes droop lower and his patience ran thin.

He loved you with all his heart, his soul, his body but he hated the fact that even though you were academically smart you were dumb with emotions and reading them in general. You would cut him off when he was upset or happy but he was fine with it. No person was perfect and he knew that but it was annoying.

Trent leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling as you rambled. Whatever you said was incoherent to him at this point. Trent closed his eyes, mind blank and ears seemingly closed.

"Trent?" you called out to your boyfriend. His eyes slowly opened, meeting with yours. "Are you done?" his tone sounded annoyed and bothered. "Are you okay?" you asked, a little worried at this point. "I just want silence for a while." he plainly explained, voice laced with bother. "A-- Are you sure? You seem--" you started fiddling with your fingers, you didn't know what was going on or what would happen after this. "Can you just leave me alone!?" Trent yelled. A shudder was sent through your spine, your ears rang from the volume of his voice. You were scared, emotional, and everything in between. "I--" your throat gave out all it could, all that was left. Your voice wobbled. A lump formed in the middle of your throat, your eyes stung of tears and you blinked rapidly to scare it away.

"What? What else do you want to say?" Trent stood up. You instinctively stumbled back, eyes glued on the ground. "What else!?" his voice was louder than it was before. You felt yourself flinch at his voice. The voice you once craved to hear, the voice that made you feel calm, loved-- scared you.

Trent feels a heavy sigh escape his lips which felt like more of a groan out of annoyance. Trent turned his back on you, collecting his patience back. Trent mumbled things under his breath. With his mumbling you heard: "Why are you like this?" You felt angry, sad, and somewhat betrayed. Your eyes stayed on the ground, you held your breath for several minutes, afraid that if you open your mouth a strained whimper would escape your lips.

Trent turns to look back at you, finally seeing your head hung low, hand fiddling with each other. Trent stayed silent, his mouth open, his throat preparing for something to say.

Then, he sees a tear fall into the ground. He felt his chest close up, his world stopped and his heart broke. Were those tears? Your tears? Did he make you feel the need to cry?

"Y/n?" his voice was low, shaky. His feet slowly approaching you but you back away. Were you scared of him? "Babe..?" his voice came out a desperate call, a whisper. Your teeth gritted against each other and a hic came from your mouth. With that, he felt another piece of his heart break away.

Even so, he kept nearing you and every time he neared, you backed away.

Eventually you hit a wall. Your back pressed on the wall as another hic escaped your lips. "I'm sorry.." Trent whispered, eyes blurred from the tears. He didn't dare blink. He wanted to look away from you, to stop this feeling-- this ache in his body to stop but he didn't want to. He couldn't break his gaze from you.

Trent feels his arm reaching out for you. Trent's hand eventually touches your shoulder and he feels you flinch for a moment, your entire body stiff from the sudden move. Slowly, you felt your body relax. Trent's lips quiver in fear, sadness before bringing your body to his.

He hugged you tightly, afraid that if he let go you'd vanish. Your arms stayed on your side, not wanting to hug him. His chin rested on your shoulder as he cried. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.. I--" he croaked. You felt your body tense up once more. You blinked and more tears fell. You felt your hands dig into your palm. You didn't know what to do-- how to feel. A shaky sigh escapes your lips and slowly, instinctively your arms wrapped around him. "Please forgive me." he mumbled underneath his sobs.

You hugged Trent comfortingly, your touch told him that it wasn't his fault, your embrace felt warm, your arms told him that you've forgiven him, your fingers told him that whatever he'd do you'd never break away from him, no matter how hard he pushes.

"I'm sorry, baby. I can't-- I didn't--" he stammered.

"It's okay, Trent." you finally spoke, your voice came out soft and comforting. "You didn't mean to." you reassured.

Trent felt guilty, a part of him knows it was his fault but a part of him started believing it wasn't his fault.

He felt guilty, like he did an unforgivable crime and lied about it.

He broke your heart and he broke his own.

"I'm sorry." he repeated, desperate and shaky. "I know you're sorry, you didn't mean it, you didn't mean any of it." you cried. The way your voice broke, the was it cracked-- it hurt him. Your words were soft and calm but your voice was broken into pieces.

"I love you and you love me. That won't change anything, whatever you say won't affect that. You hear me?" your voice calm and steady. "There's no point in saying you're sorry because I know you are." you pulled away from him, looking at him directly. His eyes glimmered with tears, cheeks stained with it. He looked at you, your eyes were red and puffy and he felt like he couldn't forgive himself for doing this to you.

You inched closer to him, planting a kiss on his forehead, then to his cheeks. You cupped his cheeks with a wobbly smile on your face.

Even though he made you cry, you loved him regardless, even though he made you scared of him, you held him tightly, even though he screamed at you, you spoke to him tenderly and softly. Even though he'd never forgive himself, you forgave him in a heartbeat.

(SPECIAL TAG TO @habuonlylikesu she has sent 2 requests and shes such a slayer idk how to explain her bro.. ANYWAYS the reason why this is so long is cause of the description of the details 🙄🙄 i tell u guys mama lana del rey DOES something to ur writing. ANYWAYSYSYSYS THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR TRENT AND IM LOWKEY PROUD. funfact i did this the evening i got the request and i just deadass didnt know how to execute it and like 2 days later i finish it in one sitting. OKAY SMASH THAT LIKE BUTTON AND SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE BANGERS LIKE THESE!!! 😱😱💕💕)