#like yes i’m always making noise and always staring at people and always picking shit up from the floor AND keeping it forever and ever

[sugarsnappeases]

i’ve started the bartylily disney world au,,, anyway to fuel my brain rot of them

do you have any headcanons of them (in any universe)

OH SCREAMING IM VERY EXCITED!!!! also crazy that i should see this just as i close up my new lilyrosekiller doc for the night… (i’ve written three sentences)

I DO actually and i’m so glad you asked lmao, these are like once they’ve started dating Things buuut lily forces barty to do a study session with her one time but he is just Constantly Humming. like just incessantly making noise literally not even on purpose and she has to send him away bc she can’t focus. i also think that lily is always just Watching barty like always always just staring at him, eyebrows furrowed like he’s her morning crossword or the keypad that would open the door to a vault filled w gold if she could just figure out the combination. and also barty to me is a little bit of a weird bird like he is picking shit up from everywhere and giving it to lily like some sort of mating ritual… like he gives her this bottlecap he found on the floor one day bc it’s the same brand of beer as one that they drank together one time, or he sees a pretty bird and chases it halfway across the park to steal a feather from it that he gives to her, he’s cutting bits out of library books and giving her handfuls of these scraps of paper bc they remind him of a conversation they had, or the way she smiles, or some annotation she made in one of her books, or just something completely random (lily keeps everything he ever gives her in this big box under her bed, or tucked in her bra if she really likes whatever it is)

[starysky1289]

Toxic!Soroity!Vanessa X Reader. Holiday party

TW: toxic relationship, slight abuse, degradation, public sex

The soft noise of Christmas music filled the student hall, you sat with a few close friends at one of the tables, picking on some munchies you bought. The college holiday party was always a big hit, it was one of the only party’s where Vanessa wouldn’t show up at, the only innocent party on campus.

“ are you gonna spend Christmas with Vanessa? Or as you gonna go home. “

Your roommate, Stacie, sat besides you. Her dark blonde hair was up in a ponytail, she wore a silly Christmas sweater, black pants, and one of those little Christmas hats. You shrugged, leaning into the seat.

“ I sing know. I mean, she wants me to, but I haven’t seen my family in a while..I don’t know- “

“ Shit. Y/N put your hood up. She just walked in “

You panicked, throwing your hood up and sinking down in the chair.

“ Vanessa?? Are you sure it’s her?? “

“ positive. She’s got like five other girls with her, why would she be here?? “

“ for me. She hates when I don’t tell her where I am. “

You watched her from the corner of your eye, she was clearly asking around for you. Stacie got up and moved, trying not to draw attention to you. Your phone was blowing up, you knew it was Vanessa texting you, but if you looked she’d know, somehow. It’s just how she worked, she was like a physic.

Vanessa made her way up to Stacie, immediately grabbing her face and almost silently yelling at her, you could only make out a few words, she was trying to get out of her where you were. You couldn’t hide, she was hurting her, your friend, the only person who could console you. You quickly got up and ran over, pushing Vanessa hands off Stacie’s face.

“ S-stop it! I’m right here, don’t hurt her. “

“ Y/N, there’s my girl. You gave me scare…I didn’t know where you went. “

Vanessa attitude immediately changed, as she gently held your face. You stepped back, standing up straighter.

“ Vanessa, you can’t assault my friends just cause you don’t know where I am. You know it’s wrong!“

“ I was just worried, I knew she’d know where you were. “

“ don’t do it again, please. Now what do you want..”

Vanessa held you by your arm, and walked you over to a secluded area, the other girls she had came with had gone separately to join the party. She sat you down, and started examine your face, looking for something, but you didn’t know what.

“ what are you doing ness- “

“ I’m making sure you’re not marked up, she dosnt need to touch you…”

“ Nessa stop! I hate when you do this! Why can’t I ever once do something by myself!! “

You shout at her, her eyes widened slightly, as she grabbed your face, holding it tightly in her palm.

“ I would have had no issue letting you go by yourself if you let. Me. Know. I only knew you where here because I knew you where excited for this all week. You don’t know what these people would do to you, they know your mine. “

“ you treat me like a child, i hate it, i hate you! “

Vanessa’s eyes narrowed, as she let go of your face. She looked around the room, it was dimly lit, the window were covered in Christmas lights, and there was a big tree in the middle with fake presents under it. She finally looked back at you, staring for a moment, before speaking.

“ you want me to treat you like a adult? “

“ Yes! For Christs sake, that’s all I want! “

“ fine. Well, adults don’t go to cheesy Christmas parties with cheap booze and repetitive music. “

Vanessa stood up, waiting for you to join her. You hesitated, but stood besides her, reaching for her hand.

“ adults don’t need there hand held. Now let’s go. “

You went quiet, following her out of the student center, and into the parking lot. She hopped into her car, and you sat in the passenger seat besides her. She was furious, you knew it, you just shouldn’t have run your mouth.

“ I’ll start treating you like a real adult if you do something. “

Vanessa started the car, giving you a minute of silence, before speaking again.

“ what Vanessa…”

“ make yourself cum. You do that, prove you can do it by yourself, and I’ll treat you exactly like you want to be treated. I’ll give you three laps around the campus and then the drive to the house. Start now. “

You where taken aback by her proposal, you hadn’t done it by yourself without Vanessa sense you two started dating. Vanessa started driving, pulling out of the lot and starting to goa round the campus.

You slowly lowered your hand down past your pants and panties, softly moving your fingers on your clit, and starting to rub it, forcing yourself to go blank minded.

“ fuck..fuck nessy c-call me something…p-please..”

“ no. I’m not helping you, you can do it by yourself. “

You whine, trying to focus on yourself, starting to thrust into yourself, using your thumb to continue rubbing your clit. Your moans are weak and shrill, trying to force yourself over the edge.

“ N-nessy please I..I can’t…”

“ we aren’t even on the third lap around the campus and your giving up?? Pathetic. “

Vanessa drove a little farther, besides pulling back into the parking lot.

“ so you do need me, hm? You need me to take care of you? “

“ y-yes! Yes I-I’m so sorry, I-I’m stupid ok? P-please just…t-touch me pretty please nessy…”

You whimpered, trying to strip your pants of. Vanessa grabbed one of your hands and pulled it off, getting out of the car, you followed after her quickly, fixing your pants.

“ cmon. You’ll sit by my side and be pretty ok? “

“ y-yes Vanessa…”

You held the hand tightly, following her back into the student center. You could see Stacie in the center, her worried gaze following you as you sat back down in the back corner, Vanessa friends filled in besides you both after a bit.

“ she learn her lesson? “

“ she did. She knows to be dependent on me, cause she knows she can’t do anything without me, huh? She can’t even make herself cum~ “

Vanessa teased you quietly, making the other girls chuckle. You held Vanessa’s arm, burrowing into her shoulder.

“ aww, little thing. It’s ok, let yourself melt~ “

Vanessa slowly moved her hand down your pants, slowly rubbing you clit. You whimpered into her shoulder, gripping her jacket with your opens hands.

“ n-nessy…”

“ shh…your so pent up arnt you~ “

Her fingers worked her way down your folds, and slowly started to finger you, kissing your forehead softly as you let out small moans. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the other girls filming you.

“ n-ness make them s-stop! “

“ there not doing anything Y/N. They just like watching. Maybe I could set up a little holiday party of our own and let them touch you, wouldn’t you like that? “

You where to embarrassed to answer, just biting down on Vanessa’s shoulder. Her fingers speed up, you tried to thrust against them to make yourself cum faster. You felt Vanessa’s fingers curl slightly, making you let out a ridiculous moan, feeling yourself ridiculously over her hand.

“ Jesus- did you fucking squirt? “

“ I-i- “

Vanessa pulled her hand out, wipping it on a nearby napkin. You felt yourself leak through your panties, still trying to hold onto Vanessa.

“ n-ness I..I can’t feel myself…I-i “

“ get off me- Jesus I didn’t know you had that in you..”

Vanessa pushed you off her, scooting away from you. You sat silent, your legs quivered as you tried to sit up straight.

“ I think I’ve gotta go. You all can stay if you want, but I have things to do. Y/N let’s go, I’ll drive you home. “

Vanessa pulled you out with her, and carried you out of the student center. You made your way back to the car, sitting down in the passenger seat.

“ so. We know to ask permission for things now. We know why we need to be dependent on me. “

“ y-yes Vanessa….”

“ good. I love you, you know I only do this because I love you baby. “

“ I..I love you too nessy…”

[klbwriting]

Our Strange Duet

Chapter 7 - From Here

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: none, just angst

Summary: Jason had a long recovery journey ahead and doesn't start it well

Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch @amberpanda99

It isn't where I am, its where I go from here - Amelie

Jason had passed out whenever he saw Dick finally arrive to get him, the pain of trying to walk on his ankle enough to drain all the blood from his face. The last thing he remembered was Dick’s frantic face as he picked him up to carry him to the car. Then he was sleeping, until he heard Dick’s voice. He didn’t open his eyes, wanting to will himself back to sleep, but then he heard his name.

“Jason isn’t just some soldier for you to discharge when you think he’s disobeying orders,” Dick said, voice low but so angry. Jason assumed that he was talking to Bruce. He must have known that Jason found Bruce and was now trying to figure out what had happened.

“What are you talking about ‘he’s not one of us’? I tried to beat the shit out of you…so what if I didn’t try to shoot you, I just didn’t think of it…o so because he has guns he’s some kind of serial killer?...it was Falcone what harm did his death do?...what are you talking about, you wouldn’t give him to the cops…fuck you Bruce, get your shit together and don’t call me until you do,” Dick finally hung up the phone and let out an annoyed sigh. “I know you’re awake.”

“I don’t want to be,” Jason said, eyes opening slowly. He wiped them and sat up a little, looking down that his leg under the hospital blanket. “An actual hospital?” he said, taking in the stark white room and the itchy blanket over his lower half.

“I got your gear to a safe house, said you were getting drunk at some roof party and fell off,” he said. Jason rolled his eyes. “Hey, it was always a safe go to way to get injured, drunk people are idiots.” Jason nodded, pulling the blanket to look at his ankle, leg in a cast from the knee down. “That’s on for six weeks, then you get a boot, so no hijinks until after. I contacted the school, they obviously will work with you for your classes and your theater director said she wouldn’t recast you, they want you at practice today, which starts in an hour so we better get moving.” Jason followed along, but then looked at Dick.

“What about YN? What did she say? Where is she?” he asked, getting up and getting his clothes so he could get dressed. Dick looked at little guilty.

“I didn’t tell her anything, I said I had you and that she needed to get to class, so she went to class, you’ll see her at practice,” he said. Jason stared. Great, she was going to freak out. He got dressed around the cast, needing to cut his combat pants to get them to work around the bulk before shooting off a text to YN telling her not to freak out when she saw him. She called him.

“What do you mean NOT freak out? What happened?” she asked. Dick was driving, pretending he couldn’t hear his brother who was stretched out in the backseat.

“I fell off a roof,” he said. There was a long minute of silence. “YN?”

“Are you ok?” she asked, clearly trying to contain herself. He didn’t know where she was, but she was whispering now. “Was it related to anything like…the terror that flaps in the night?” Jason let out a laugh.

“Darkwing Duck? No, he wasn’t there,” Jason said, getting a loud hmph from YN. He heard a door close and then another door and then running water. “Are you showering?”

“I’m making noise in one of the dorm showers, so no one hears me, I snuck in to hide for this conversation,” she said. “And no not Darkwing Duck, I was trying to infer about Batman.” Jason scowled.

“Yes, it involved Bruce,” he said. “I confronted him, told him to leave you alone. He said something about me finding him, then he said my name and I lost it…I tackled him off the roof, he used a grappling hook and I fell.”

“And then he came to help you until Dick arrived?” she said, even though she knew the answer.

“No, he left me,” Jason said, saying it out loud really ripping open his chest. His father once again leaving him. It wasn’t a surprise, him being abandoned, but it didn’t hurt any less.

“That absolute fucking cunt,” she said, and Jason laughed in surprise more than anything. She wasn’t exactly angelic, but he had never heard her say something so vulgar. “I need to go, heading to practice early to do some arranging with the music teaching advisor on the play, I will see you there?”

“Ya, I’ll be there,” he said, smiling a little.

“Alright, I love you Jason,” she said, making sure to enunciate each word so he heard them clearly. She hung up, knowing he might not be able to say the words back. Betrayal could do that to him. He didn’t feel much love for anything at the moment, but he knew in a few hours, when he had a chance to rest, get a shower and some food, get comfortable, he would feel so much love and care towards his brother and his girlfriend, but right now his entire mind was shaded with anger and worry and doubt. At least he could use that for motivation at practice.

The director was understanding about the timeline of his ankle, but did ask that he be more responsible in the future. He heard her mutter that if he wasn’t so talented she would have kicked him out so he took that as a good sign. He could at least do something right. He could hobble around pretty good on one crutch since he had done that before during his stint as Robin, so he got around the stage pretty well as they got used to their marks. Being the phantom, he didn’t need to do much dancing, it was more looking menacing, which was a little difficult with a cast, but he could figure it out. By the end he was exhausted, collapsing into a theater seat as the director went over the schedule for the next couple weeks. YN didn’t make an appearance until the end where she answered a question about how the arrangement was coming along and she stammered through her answer, catching sight of him with his cast.

“Yes, I know Mr. Todd seems to have gotten himself injured already, college parties get wilder every year,” the director muttered. YN nodded, before walking over and sitting next to him. The director dismissed them all and while the others left YN and Jason stayed seated.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think you were in a cast; you fell off a roof, of course it wasn’t just a concussion or something,” she said. “How bad is it?”

“6 weeks in this thing and then a boot until they say I’m ok,” he answered. She nodded and produced a sharpie from her bag. “Going to be the first to sign it?”

“Yes, I am your girlfriend I am first,” she said, putting her name and a heart on it. “There, now you have a six-week reminder that you are loved.” Jason still wasn’t ready to accept that and instead rolled his eyes, instant annoyance settling over him.

“Yes, loved by someone who lied to me,” he said before he could stop himself. He regretted it as soon as the smile fell off of YN’s face. His annoyance wasn’t at her, it was at himself, and just like always he pushed his self-loathing out onto others. “YN…”

“No, you’re right, I lied to you about the apartment. Don’t worry, the next apartment I get I will be paying for myself, no rich assholes or deadbeat dads to be seen,” she said. “I have some work to finish for the show, I will see you later?” She stood and grabbed her bag before he could answer, disappearing back towards the music area of the school. He knew Dick was waiting to take him back to the apartment, so he sighed and went home.

YN wasn’t back until late that evening, setting her things in a corner by the door, trying to be small. Dick had noticed Jason was in a bad mood as soon as he got in the car and since he couldn’t go out to kiss criminal ass at the moment, he was sulking on the couch watching the 2005 Pride and Prejudice because yes, the one with Colin Firth may have been a classic but dammit Matthew Macfadyen was absolutely perfect as Mr. Darcy. He noticed and bounced to shut the movie off.

“No, I love this movie,” she said, walking over as his hand stilled on the remote. She sat down on the couch, and he put an arm on the back of it, a peace offering. She slid in and leaned her head to his chest, his arm sliding around her and Dick slinking out of the room, and Jason took a deep breath, finally ready to feel loved for a little while.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered after several minutes. She took the hand on her shoulder and kissed it softly.

“I’m sorry too,” she said. Neither of them needed to look to see how much the other meant it, how much they loved each other. It was in their very beings and Jason once again, and probably not for the last time, realized he didn’t need Bruce to love him, he had Dick and he had YN and that was all he needed.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Eight (Part 3)

“What was all that about?” He demands as he rounds on me, blocking the door like he’s afraid I’m going to try and go back in and finish her off. I can’t say anything to him, I can only start crying, floods of tears drenching my face and my hands shaking uncontrollably. He rakes a hand through his hair and starts pacing in a circle. “Were you seriously trying to fight my sister?”

“It was a mistake.” I blubber. “My rings got stuck in her hair”

“And all that I saw about you calling her a bitch and shoving her across the bar, that was a mistake too?”

“She came at me first!”

“Look, whatever is going on with you two, whatever the details of your falling out are, it’s nothing to do with me. I don’t honestly care about it, but you can’t be showing up here absolutely pissed drunk and trying to fight each other in front of a packed bar That’s the stupidest fucking thing ever.” He stares at me with wide, urgent eyes. “What is going on with you lately, Evie? What’s all this?”

“There’s nothing.”

“You’re drinking all the time.”

“I’m just having fun.”

“You aren’t. I’ve done… this.” He throws a hand up in my direction. “I’ve drunk myself into a state a few times and there isn’t anything fun about it. Not enough to keep going back and doing it over and over again.”

“I don’t do this every time.” I insist as the adrenaline starts to exit my body and my legs threaten to give out underneath me. I slide down the wall and sit on the cold, wet ground. “Just this time and last time.”

“Get up off the ground.” He says, and when I don’t he doesn’t push it. “It’s not just the drink, it’s all of it. You’re acting weird, you have weird friends…” 

“I don’t care if they’re weird. At least they’re not like the people here.”

“And what’s wrong with the people here?” 

“They’re shit.” 

He sighs, resigned. “Look, I know how Kelly is, like, I had to live with her for eighteen years so I get it, but she doesn’t have it easy. She’s having a hard time in college, and she’s not that good at making friends anymore…” 

“Maybe because when people try and be nice to her she calls them a bitch and tells them to fuck off and die.”

“She didn’t say that.”

“She did!” 

He crouches down next to me and lets his head hang low, shaking it from side to side. “Well I’m sorry if she did, then. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Maybe I did.” I say. “I think I was a bad friend.”

“I doubt that. Ye were just a bad pairing.”

“Maybe.” I sniffle “You really think?” 

“I dunno. You were always too soft for her. And you’d let her run around all over you at different times. It was like sometimes you’d be doing things it was obvious you didn’t want to be doing.”

“It was hard to say no to her.”

“Maybe you have a hard time with saying no in general, do you think?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Shane starts picking up pieces of gravel from the ground and tossing them across the alley and I shut my eyes for a minute or so and listen to the repeated clicking noises they make as they hit the pub wall opposite. 

I take a deep breath and sigh. “You went to Jen’s party.” A statement, not a question. 

“Yeah.”  

“You never said.”

“Didn’t think I needed to.”

“Was it any good?”

“Yeah it was alright.” A pause. “She’s a bit different.”

“Did you think so?”

“Yeah, I dunno why I’m saying that, she didn’t do anything out of the ordinary or anything, she just looked very different to me, was talking about some of the stuff she gets up to now it’s… I dunno. She’s different.” I know what he means. I felt the same way when I met her, and I recall her grey complexion and her shaky hands with ease, because to me they were the most surprising new things about her. She’d been the pink-cheeked picture of health before, and now… 

“And was he there?” 

Shane stops throwing the little stones momentarily and holds one between his thumb and forefinger in thoughtful examination. “Who’s that, now?”

“You know who I mean.” 

He hesitates. “He was.” 

“And how is he?”

“He’s the same.”

“The same?”

“Yeah, like, he’s the same as ever. I dunno what to say about him.”

“Did he talk about Berlin?”

“A bit, yeah.” 

“Did he ask about me?” 

Shane looks right at me and I feel exposed. Never would I have dared to ask a question like that while sober and he knows it. We never talk about this and I’m tired of it. I want to know the answer. I repeat my question: “Did he ask about me?” 

“Evie… you have to learn to let these things go.”

“It’s just a question.”

“You can’t be asking this of me. You have to stop with all this… hanging on to the past. Kelly, Jude, they’re gone. Just let them go.”

“I want closure.”

“Well you don’t always get to have it.”

“But he… they both hurt me. I just want to know why.”

“There doesn’t need to be a why, though. Sometimes shit just happens, sometimes it’s the wrong person, sometimes it’s the wrong time. You have to keep on moving forward with your life.”

“I’m afraid I’ll never stop thinking about him.” 

“You will.”

“Sometimes I think I can and then something else happens and I remember him all over again. It’s a horrible cycle. And look.” I reach for my phone and navigate to Instagram, scrolling through it until I find the picture I saw earlier. The drawings of me. “Have you seen these?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why would he draw this?” 

Shane stares at my phone for some moments and then shakes his head, leaning his head back against the wall while making a “psssh” sound with his mouth. “Who knows why. Maybe he likes drawing you.” He glances at the screen again. “You’re younger in them. Longer hair, like. I’d say he did them during the summer before he left.”

“Why would he spend so long on them? Put so much detail in?”

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe because he was in love with you or something.”

“How could he have been?”

He looks at me with this desperately sad expression like he feels sincere pity for me at that moment. “God’s sake, Evie.” He says with exasperation. “What do you think about yourself at all? Do you just tell yourself rotten shite all day inside your head? Why wouldn’t he have been?”

I laugh with derision. “He didn’t act like he was.”

“Did he not?” 

I don’t answer him and his words hang in the air between us as old memories begin to drift out of hidden places in my mind and unfurl themselves, revealing things I forgot that I knew. Secret glances meant for nobody else, tiny, inconsequential touches that gave me the kind of explosive feelings that I’ve been uselessly searching for ever since. 

“Shane, I think I am very twisted up and fucked in the head, and I think there’s something wrong with me.” I state, panic creeping in. “Sometimes I don’t know what’s real and what I’ve made up and told myself is true.”

“You’re alright.” He says. 

“I think that’s why I can’t keep anyone consistently in my life.” I continue with rising madness. “And I lose everybody in the end.”

He wraps his arms around his knees and looks out over the deserted car park nearby. “That’s how it goes, like, it’s the way the world works.” He says. “Everything you lose, everybody you lose is just exchanged for something else. I don’t know if I believe in everything happening for a reason or whatever, but maybe losing Jude was the cost to keep your world spinning in the right direction.”

I wipe my nose and stare at him, surprised by the profoundness of his statement. “Do you think my world is spinning in the right direction now?”

He shrugs. “It’s turning the way it’s turning. Maybe you’re meant to learn something from this.” 

“Maybe.” I say, “God, Kelly was right about you. You really are secretly smart.”

“Secretly? I do science in UCD.”

“Whatever. Yes. Secretly.” I chance to lean my head on his arm in a gesture of fellowship. As I expect, he doesn’t attempt anything comforting, but he doesn’t shove me away in disgust either, so it’s a win in my eyes. 

Tonight he’ll sit here and let me hold onto the sleeve of his cotton shirt, and tomorrow we’ll go on and pretend this never happened. We will never admit this moment to ourselves or anyone else for as long as we live.

Prev // Next

[gothamslostboy]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write a fic with a ftm prompt? I was thinking David x Micheal (ftm) or any of the lost boys characters with something relating to a ftm? Sorry if it’s a bit vague! Some comfort or fluff is really nice! Thank you so much! - 🦝

A/N: hey 🦝! Sorry this took so long. I love trans Michael. I’d also like to apologize, I got lost in the story and there’s not as much comfort fluff as I originally planned. I hope you still like it:]

Decisions Transpire Here

DAVID MICHAEL

————————————————————————

Michael, We’ve been waiting at the boardwalk for 20 minutes. Don’t they teach manners in Ariz- I turn around at the sound of David’s voice, and though I’m only frozen for less than I second, it’s too long. By the time I’ve thrown myself to the floor, he’d already seen me. I should’ve locked the door.

That what I think it is? Of all the times for David to barge into my room, this had to be one of the worst. Reaching up to grab my testosterone vial, I tuck myself under my bed after 3 missed grabs. Umm, heroin? Yes. Yes it is. I do my best to sound convincing, but my panic slips through. Damn that’s a bad cover. No one would just stand in the middle of their room to do heroin, much less inject it in their thigh. I’ve only been hanging out with these guys for less than a month and I’ve already blown it. What? The noise of David’s feet coming closer drown out most of his laughter.

Relax Michael, you’re not the first transgender person I’ve come across. Oh. He figured that out much quicker than I thought he would. I guess just wearing my binder and boxers probably helped there. Uh, oh. Cool. My mind is racing as we sit in silence, trying to figure out where the conversation goes from here. We moved away from Phoenix for a fresh start, a place without dad, where no one except my family would know that I wasnt always a Michael.

David tosses himself onto my bed, a cloud of dust hitting my face on impact. A begin to cough, and I hear a very ingenuine whoops. The bed frame creaks as he makes himself comfortable. Come on, time to come out, Well, in the other way. Bad enough you’re late to meet up with us, do you really wanna stand the boys up entirely? I push down my embarrassment as I slide out into view. Picking myself up, I place my vial on the nightstand and scan the room for a clean shirt.

We agreed to meet at 8:00? How is 7:28 late? I gesture towards my clock, the red numbers glowing in the darkened corner of my room. Clocks wrong. It’s now, he stops snooping through my nightstand just long enough to read his watch, 8:36. I push my head through my neck hole, pulling my jeans up swiftly as a grab his wrist.

Shit. Sorry man, let’s go. Ump bup bup! David twist his hand until he has a hold on me. Let’s talk for a second. I scoff out my nervousness as I try to discreetly release his grasp, to no avail. What about the guys? Aren’t they just waiting for you to get back? I’ll let them know we’ll be a second. He scoots to one side of my bed and essentially drags me on the other. Oh yeah? Didn’t know you had a secret landline from my room to the middle of the boardwalk. He has a smug smile, like what I said was the funniest thing he’s heard tonight.

Don’t worry about it Michael. Why’d you duck under the bed? The abrupt shift into seriousness almost makes me want that stupid grin back. I mean, why’d you come in without knocking heh heh, people do weird things. I want to look at the floor, but I can’t escape this stare down I’ve entered with David. We won’t judge you. We all have something, different about us. The way he emphasizes his words sends a chill down my spine.

If there was a way to make you biologically male, would you do it? I Tilt my head, trying to figure out what David’s doing. Well, duh? No matter the cost? Even if it makes some see you as a monster? I shift in my spot, unsure what his game is here. I mean, they already do. Might as well be the true me. What ever he’s trying to do, it seems I answered correctly.

He moves to his feet quickly, striding towards my door. Believe me, you’re no monster Michael. remember you’re answer. There’s a change of plans, we’re going to the cave. Why? I’m going to give you what you want, all it’ll take is a drink. I dont realize he’s serious until after I’m already laughing. You don’t believe me? He turns back to face me, leaning down to eye level with me on the bed. If that was possible, every trans person in the world would’ve done it.

It’s true alright Michael, he extends his gloved hand to me as he straightens his stance. Do you really want to miss out on the chance because you don’t trust me? What will it be? A leap of faith, or a mortal life never knowing? I take his and and do my best to ignore the part of me, screaming danger.

What the hell, what’s the worst that could happen?

——— TAGS ———

@britany1997 @g4ywastaken

[yourimagines]

Angst with fluff mike perry!!

You scared me

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: Angst, swearing, and fluff

Y/N POV

Mike and I we are not the same at all. He’s more like an outgoing type of person, loves to fight, doesn’t back down, always in trouble. Me on the other hand, I like to stay at home, doesn’t like to hurt people, will definitely back down and I’m never in any sorts of trouble. So when we met it was weird for people to see us together but we didn’t care about what people thought about us. So we are 5 years together, engaged and living together with two dogs. Jax an German Shepard and Simon an dachshund

Mike was actually out with friends as I stayed home, watching an Christmas movie. I was wrapped in a cosy blanket on the sofa as the two dogs lay on the ground by my feet. The only lights in the room were from the tv and the Christmas tree. I grabbed a Christmas cookie and nibbled on it. Jax jumped as a weird noise was heard from outside. He stood up and walked to the back door. “Jax buddy, it’s okay, it’s probably some fireworks.” Jax sat down at the back door, guarding the door. Simon was looking at me. “It’s nothing, just some noises from the neighbourhood.” I stood up and walked over to Jax. “Come on buddy, you scaring Simon.” Jax didn’t move, he was staring at the door. “Jax there is nobody, come on.” I tried to move him away from the door. “You need to pee, okay but I’m not going on a walk with you.” I grabbed my keys and opened the back door. He stood up and run outside as I opened the door. That’s were I shit my pants. Jax runs at a figure that was standing in my backyard. “Jax!” Jax was barking and running around. The figure started to move towards me. “Jax!” Jax runs back as I closed the door, quickly locking it. Jax was barking at the door as I run back to the sofa, grabbing my phone and Simon. I sprinted up stairs and called Mike. “Come on pick up.” I run to our room and closed the door. “Jax will be fine.” I placed Simon on the bed and called Mike again. “Come on!” I looked outside of the window and my heart dropped. The back door was open.

Tears were falling down as I searched for a weapon. Mike didn’t picked up his phone and I heard someone trying to open the bedroom door. I held my hand against my mouth as a sob escaped. Simon was scared as well, hiding himself between the pillows. ‘Jax, what happened to Jax.’ I texted Mike, that someone broke in and that I’m scared. The door clicked out of his lock and the handle slowly went down. ‘I’m going to die.’ The door made a squeaking noise as it was carefully opened. I was standing in a corner, totally trapped. I quickly looked at mikes side of the bed, a baseball bat was laying on the ground. I sprinted towards it and grabbed the bat. The person walked in and I swing around with it. “Stop!” The person grabs the bat and I panicked. “Babe stop!” He grabs my shoulders as I pushed him. “Babe it’s me! Stop.” I looked up and saw Mike. I immediately broke down. Mike wrapped his arms around me. “I’m so sorry my love, I’m sorry.” I sobbed into his chest. “I’m sorry for scaring you like that.” His hands went under my shirt, rubbing my back. “I…I was scared Mike.” “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” Jax jumped against my leg. “He protected you till he found out it was me.” I looked at Mike as tears were flowing down my cheeks. “I thought something happened to him.” He wiped away my tears. “I’m sorry my love, don’t cry please it hurts me to see you cry.” I sniffed and hugged him. “Just hold me close.” “I will baby, I’m sorry.” He walked us over to our bed. Simon was wiggling his tail. “You scared us all.” “I didn’t mean to make you cry…I’m the worst fiancé ever.” I chuckled against his chest. “Yes you are.” He kisses my head as Jax jumped on our bed. “Worst part is, I missed a part of the movie because of this.” I said with a pout on my face. “What we doing here then, come let’s watch that movie together huh.” He picked me and Simon up and carried us back downstairs. I was giggling as he sat us back down on the sofa. “Let me make it up to my beautiful soon to be wife.” He tucked me in and made a hot chocolate.

He lay next to me, his chest was exposed as I was running my hands over his chest. “You’re okay my love?” I nodded and snuggled up against him. “I’m sorry, I’ll never forgive myself for scaring you like that.” “I’m okay now.” He kissed my head. “Good because I really would hate myself for making you feel unsafe.” I nodded and kissed his chest. “I forgive you.” “Thank you my love.”

[write-malaya]

I hear the quietest creak up ahead, and my heart began to pound heavily at the thought of getting caught. No, no—not like this! How could I even allow somebody to catch me while I’m dragging this big ass (literally) dead weight? No!

I quickly hold my shotgun, aiming at the source of the noise. I see the silhouette slowly coming into view, and it’s a figure that reminds me of a religious devotee I saw one time lugging a huge crucifix in procession… but instead of stiff angles on a wooden cross, the thing they were dragging seemed… lumpy.

To tell honestly, the shadow looked so familiar the longer I stared. I couldn’t keep my eyes off it. The curves, the height… No, it’s impossible.

I dare to leave the body to take a closer peek at this, I don’t know, creature. Ever so lightly, I took one step and another, wanting to shake off this gut feeling that I know this… man (I finally made up my mind).

A faint light cast over the person’s face, just for a second, but it was enough to make me gasp. My husband! The love of my life, the gentlest, kindest, sweetest man I know, out in the woods— carrying a dead body like I was moments ago.

What is happening?

I saw his eyes grow bigger as he laid eyes on me with a shotgun in my hand. “W-w-wait? H-how…?”

I don’t dare answer. Still aiming at him.

“Wait—please. I can explain,” he paused.

I gave a slight nod. “I-I’ll listen. Speak, and please, please, no lies.”

“I’m not who you think I am, honey.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Ok, I deserve that. Okay. This is like… a side hustle. I don’t kill people. I just bury them. The pay is great. I never ask questions—they just tell me where to pick up the body, I take it, bury it, and get on my way.”

This unlikely revelation is something I never dreamed of hearing in my lifetime. “Is this where you usually go whenever you tell me that you’re with the boys?”

“Yes.”

“And when you’re late during the weekends, saying it’s traffic from your parent’s place to ours?”

“No, that one is real. I do have Wednesdays off but I never told you. It’s the usual day I have to bury at least three bodies, so I often tell you that midweek is for overtime work, like now. This is the third one today,” shrugging his right shoulder to point at the weight.

Shocked does not even cover whatever this reaction my mind decided to settle on. “But that means… you were lying, all this time…”

“Look,” he slowly lowered the body to the ground. “I’ve been doing this ever since—it’s what got me through life. I couldn’t leave this part of me behind. Even with everything going so well career wise, and the wonderful family life I have with you, I just couldn’t…” he shook his head, dropping his gaze as if he suddenly felt ashamed.

I didn’t even realize that I already dropped the shotgun I was holding because I felt numb at that moment. My jumbled thoughts made it hard to think of anything, but I was certainly aware that it was time I explained.

My husband, heaven (or hell) bless his patience, kept quiet while I gathered myself. I knew he already saw the body bag a few paces behind me.

“I’m sorry,” the first two words I blurted out were prompted by guilt. “I don’t have the right to judge you because I know I’m worse—much, much worse.”

He was now closer, only at an arm’s length. “Can I… hold you?”

I’m in disbelief, not expecting this offer at all. “What?”

“Listen,” he said, forcing me to stare at him eye-to-eye. “I’m your man. For better or worse. We promised. I promised. I’d protect you from everything that’s trying to hurt you, and I mean it.”

“I-I don’t u-understand…” I was shaking at this point, tears threatening to escape.

He took tiny steps, never breaking eye contact. “Love,” he placed his hands gently on my shoulders, caressing lightly. “I know.”

“Y-you know? W-what do you… k-know?”

He took a deep, steady breath, cradled my nape, and pulled me closer. “This part of your life… I know. I’ve always known, even before we got married.”

I felt the words rumbling in his chest. Felt it settle in my own chest, enveloping my heart, giving it a sudden relief from that vise-like secret that made it hard to breathe, to live.

“A few months into this job, I made a rookie mistake that almost cost me my life. I pried into one dead man’s file because it got me curious. The scene was unlike any I worked on so far. It was messy. Saw the details of the contract, including who did it. It was their first time.”

I looked up, seeing honesty in his eyes. He really knew.

“It was you. The boss saw me reading the document and I almost got shot point-blank if not for the desperate begging I made. I got on my knees crying, saying ‘sorry, please don’t kill me,’ like a pitiful chant…” he chuckled.

“…and I must’ve looked so pathetic because he spared me with a promise: I’d have to bury the people you killed from then on and become your personal secret bodyguard of sorts. If your job needed cleaning up, I had to be there, no excuses.”

I released another gasp at this confession. So, he knew from the start?

“Yes, I was always there for you when you were starting out at the organization. Remember that one job you did with that abusive father? I had to burn their house down because you tortured him excessively and left your mark on almost everything,” he smiled. “but over the years you got better at it, and managed to control your temper. That was when you needed me less, and the boss saw that, too.”

“Wait, did you also clean up that one with the lawyer? Where I left a limb accidentally in his car?” I asked.

“Had to cross the interstate twice for that one,” he let out a laugh. “Anyway… when you got the hang of it, I didn’t have to get involved so often anymore. Boss made me take on other cases, but then I found myself wondering what you were doing while I was busy burying bodies for other people…”

“You know that cliche, absence makes the heart grow fonder? That shit happened and I couldn’t help it.” he mused.

It was my turn to laugh. “Stop, that’s not gonna make my heart flutter!”

“Seriously, that’s how I felt. I couldn’t stand it—I kept missing you and so I got closer to you and thank goodness you also fell in love and married me—that solved all my worries away!”

There was no doubt that this man, my dear husband, was the love I needed in my twisted, broken life. I’m a criminal, a misfit in this society, but he somehow became the puzzle piece that fit my imperfections.

Do I dare to call myself lucky, even if I’m a murderer? Even if I don’t deserve to say that word?

“I do have a question, though…” his voice pulled me back from my faraway thoughts. “Why are you the one doing this,” he pointed at the body bag, “…and not one of the cleaners?”

“This is my last job,” I explained. “I told them I wanted to do everything just as some dumb ceremonial thing to signify that I’m finally quitting.”

“Ah. Pulling a Mr. H classic. Heard that story from one of ours, some retirement rite, correct?”

“Kind of, yes… but I did not in a million years expect to find you here.”

“Neither did I!” he exclaimed with a goofy grin on his face. “So… should we…”

“I… guess?”

“Yes, yes, before it gets too late. Should I do it for you?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I don’t look it but I’m strong, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” he winked. Then, he picked up my gun to sling it on his left, lifting the body on the other. “You ready?”

I nodded. “Let’s eat ramen after, okay?”

“Anything you want, love.”

A husband and wife unexpectedly meet in the same spot, both trying to bury a body

[alexmasonistired]

(Was just gonna vent about this privately but I feel like other people would really like to put in some input so here I am.)

Something my nana said earlier began to make me think about how us fat people cannot go a single day without our food choices being judged.

So my nanas appartment building is doing a valintines party with music and cake and ice cream, fun stuff! Except we didn’t go because we couldn’t bring her dog with us into the cafeteria.

Now you may be wondering why I’m telling you all of this… well that’s because before going back into her apartment earlier, she said:

“…I’d hate to just take their food and leave…”

And that basically got me thinking about how us fat people legit cannot go a single day without our food choices being judged. We cannot do anything with food without being shamed or made to feel bad.

We could literally just be doing a regular human person thing and someone will just look at us in say- IN EARSHOT OF US MIND YOU- “ew what a fat ass/fatty,” AND THEN JUST STARE AT US FOR A WHILE OR LEAVE. 😭

If we take food from somewhere and then leave for what ever reason, “oh they just came for the food” *stares at them as they leave as if they just shot someone’s dog*

We get a little extra on our plate or go for seconds, “oh you shouldn’t be eating so much! You’re heavy enough!”

If we sit somewhere and that thing makes a noise, “Oop- you’re gonna break it if you don’t get up!” Or sometimes even before we even sit down on the thing- “don’t sit on that you’re too heavy for that!”

If we try and eat any healthy for at all whether we are dieting or not, “oh so I see you’re finally going on that diet?”

If we eat something sugary or something with a lot of carbs, we are looked at weird or judged for, or shamed about just for being fat. A lot of skinny people could do all of these things and people would barely bat an eye! Meanwhile us fat people will get starred at, especially fat women. OH MY GOD- the way people treat fat women and AFAB people as a whole is just horrible and disgusting!

People will literally POKE AT YOU AND YOUR FAT TO PICK AT YOU. (Our mother did this to us at 13 I believe? And it’s still for us all sorts of fucked up.)

No matter what we do, we are always being judged, made to feel ashamed, and made fun of just because of our bodies. A body that isn’t easily controlled by the way. Weight doesn’t just disappear over night. That shit takes time and energy. Time and energy that not everybody has; that could be due to a disability, one’s daily life schedule, or even a medical condition. For example, there is a medical condition out there where one of the key symptoms is that you cannot loose weight and/or cannot loose it easily; I don’t know the name, but if you do, people reblog with the name or comment it. There is a good chunk of us who have very little control over this and making fun of us, starring at us, etc etc, isn’t gonna make us go in a diet, or feel any better. If anything it’s just gonna make things worse for a lot of people.

Societal beauty standards, especially for women, don’t make things better. And don’t even get me started on the double standards between men and women when it comes to fatness, it’s ridiculous.

But yeah; no matter what is fat people do, we are constantly judged and made to feel ashamed anytime we do ANYTHING with food. What we eat, how much we eat, ANYTHING!!! it’s ALWAYS judged, it feels like we’re constantly being watched simply because we are fat. We are starred at and made to feel like shit for existing just because we take up a little more space than your average Joe.

Now before anyone comments… yes, I understand that some of these things happen to skinny people too. But you CAN NOT tell me that these things don’t happen to fat people more way more often and are targeted simply because they’re fat. This rant is simply to vent out our frustrations about how no matter what we do as a fat person, we will forever be judged and put down even when we are trying to making healthier choices, just because we are fat at the moment; Which can make getting healthier very discouraging and not worth trying at all when all anyone’s going to do is just make fun of you even more and call you a fatty regardless.

Everything we do, eat, and say is judged. And it fucking sucks.

If anyone wants to add anything to this rant, feel free to reblog and do so. As of now, have a goodnight. 🌙💤

[k4rm4009]

CHAPTER 001

 I can still see the flames engulfing my house. when I close my eyes to sleep each night. I’m always shrouded by a pitch black void that just leaves me and the house alone.  Sometimes I hear my father's voice screaming in the flames, but other times I wake up with my father beside me looking at me with pure terror in his eyes and when I look around I always spot record player with the vinyl playing and it’s always the same sound crackling noise of the fire and debris falling down.

“Do you think that you subconscious is trying to tell you something?”  looking up at me, her words hanging in the air like a flickering flame. Dreams can often bring forth suppressed emotions and experiences that we might be ignoring in our daily lives. I don't know what my subconscious tell me besides the things I already know, and what I know is that his death was not an accident. Growing up with my father in the I came to noticed the unusual things he did. He never liked it when people stood behind or the fact that I knew had guns hidden throught out the house and when did ask him about all these things, he would tell me “Ill tell you when your older.

“I know”, she said crossing her leg over, but they could be could hold some of the answers you’re looking for, staring intently. There was a sudden shift in the air as she said it, like she knew more then she let on. 

Before we end this session, she said. she’s stands up and walks over to her desk” I want you to write about these dreams in this,” and pulls out a journal. This is a journal for you to keep track of your dreams and each time you come back, you can tell me about them and how you felt in the moment. 

After grabbing the journal and saying our goodbyes I started to make my way out of the office buildings, “ Are my dreams really trying to tell me something” I thought to myself. Zipping up my leather jacket I strolled down the street with the city lights illuminating  against my face.  Every time I think of him I feel a squeezing sensation in my chest. Walking some more I hear grunting noises, following with pleads and laughter . Getting closer I’m left to turn in a empty alleyway. Sighing I turn around and make my way back but being curious I walk back down the corner and peek my head. 

I see what it looks like to be three man and a black van, thier all wearing mouthless masks with one eyehole they’re talking to man who’s battered body is kneeling on the ground and laughing.

Wow this fucker is really laughing a deep voice says,  it looks like it’s coming from the one with  long hair by the way he’s shaking his head, let’s hurry up and finish this shit  I’m ready to leave now one of the say. The one with black hair pulls out a gun and points it at the injured man's head. I start breathing fast and my hands become clammy, and before  bullet rang  through alleyways the man with black hair  makes eye contact with me freezing completely in place, I couldn’t move an inch  of my body the only thing I could feel was the way my heart fell through my chest. Hearing the thud of the man’s body.  I built up the courage to start running, I felt the vibration of my phone  on my side and picked it up “ Douglas are you here??!

“Yes, buts wrong you sound out of breath,

“Dont worry about it i'm just running, “looking behind me before facing front  

Spotting his car I pick up my pace even more and enter the limo quickly 

“Im really tired so can we head home quickly,” catching my breath

His eyes looked at me with concern from the front view mirror as we set off home.

—-----

Coughing up the smoke I didn't  bother to look around, I only stared at the dancing flames as they trail up my body. I hear footsteps as they get closer to my body, they stop beneath me and I feel my body rise. Peeking one eye open I look up to see the man with the black mask, hes walking us out of the house. I open the both of my eyes to see the full moon as he sets me down the ground. Gazing at the sky I feel a cold piece of metal pressed against my head. Hearing the trigger clink back my body jerked awake.

“Good morning ms. Moore how did you sleep” the voice coming from the maid.  I've had better nights, walking into the kitchen I found my mother in there wrapped up in a white robe. Im sorry I didnt get to ask how your session was last night work, was keeping me late, grabbing my banna and muffin “its fine “

“Wait Naomi are not gonna eat breakfast  with us?” 

‘Im fine “ 

“ It doesnt matter, you should eat with us like a family”

“Youre the last person to speak about family” muttering under my breath 

“What did you say!”

“I said that yo–

“ladies , ladies lets calm down,” Mr. Devereaux says while walking in london “Why dont we let Naomi skip breakfast so she  doesnt get late for school, he says before kissing her cheek and you have some telework waiting for you sweetheart so lets just leave this for another day. 

Muttering thank you I walk out not before seeing london sideeye me, we have been having problems since the day got here, but most of the time she dont speak to me. 

Settling in the car I look out the window to see the house, I still can never get used to it. The house an all white french chateau, my mother all this time was leaving in mansion after she decided that she wanted to cheat on my father twice, I guess she wanted something better then what my father was giving to her. Leaning my head against the glass I get this feeling that I should enjoy my life right now.

A/N: This is not edited sorry; I just want advice to improve my writing/storytelling skills.

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided)  ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

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It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too. 

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby. 

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air. 

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully. 

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr. 

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby? 

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too. 

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen. 

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration. 

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic 

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised. 

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively  good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls.  The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly,  “get my pretty name out of your mouth.” 

There’s a pause full of tense silence. 

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.” 

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis. 

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

  ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing. 

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan. 

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour 

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. 

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno. 

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi. 

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao 

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

 Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[lily-drake]

De-Aged

Jason: holy shit- she's so tiny!

Dick: *agitated* Jason, focus, what do we do??

Jason: *coos at the baby Marinette* I haven't seen her this small in forever.

Dick: we need- Jason! Focus! what do we do???

Jason: *shrugs* wait it out? I don't know.

Inspired by @bambicambi

Annoyance coursed through Marinette’s veins as she saw the new Akuma of the day.  Of course it happened when her family came to visit.  Looking up to the sky and praying for strength she turned her back to the chaos, something she would soon regret.  Her brothers were asking her what the heck was going on, and as she opened her mouth a baby pink ray of light hit her, and Marinette poofed and in her place sat 4-year-old Marinette Wayne.

Jason and Dick stared at the small child on the ground in shock and after the moments were over Jason eagerly picked her up and spun her around.

“Holy sh*!  She’s so tiny!”

Jason called out as he held the small giggling girl to his chest.  Dick, was rightfully frustrated and walking in small circles and quickly said,

“Jason, focus, what do we do?”

Upon hearing Jason making cooing noises, he swiftly turned to look at Jason.

“I haven’t seen her this small in forever!”

He exclaimed, nuzzling his nose against the small Marinette.

“We need-Jason!  Focus!  What do we do?”

Jason shrugged as he held Marinette against his hip.  She giggled and tugged at his jacket.

“Wait it out?  I don’t know.”

Dick opened her mouth, but stopped when Marinette began to speak.

“Jay-Jay!  Ride!  Ride!”

Jason’s grin grew and gently set her down while holding her hand.  He squared down and carefully released her hand.  He could not express the pure amount of joy he felt when she climbed onto his back and wrapped her tiny hands around his neck.

“Jason, have you just forgotten the weirdly dressed flying child that not only turned Marinette, but all of Paris into kids?!”

He…had forgotten.  But can you blame him?  Marinette was so tiny when she was a kid, and he hadn’t seen her like this in forever.

“Look, contact Zatanna while I keep her safe and distracted.”

Dick sighed in relief replying,

“Alri-wait a minute.”

Jason was already running with a giddily screaming Marinette.

“No fair, I want to cuddle my baby sister too!”

He sighed in frustration, and no he was not pouting.  Quickly pulling out his communicator he dialed Zatanna.

“Hello?”

“Hey, so I’m in Paris visiting some family, and this flying kid in really weird clothes is going around de-aging people.  Could you come see what’s going on please?”

“Pardon, but what?”

“Yea, it sho-“

Dick quickly ran through the streets dodging beams that were now directed towards him.  Why did stuff like this always happen when they traveled?

A few moments later a portal opened and he had never been more relieved to see Zatanna in his life.  Zatanna looked around and looked at the villain.  As she studied it and was about to jump in, a neon butterfly mask appeared over the child’s face and she realized what this was.

“I can’t do anything, sorry Dick.”

“What?!  Why?!”

“This is ancient magic, probably the most ancient magic in the universe.  There should be others…, see,”

She said pointing to a cat-like figure in the distance.  Dick stared in confusion, what was happening?

While Dick was trying to figure everything out Jason was having the time of his life with Tiny Mari.  He was especially thankful that when she was blasted that her clothes were transformed into a white t-shirt and overalls with lions stitched throughout them.  He had taken so many pictures of them.  We’re people running around everywhere scared, yes, yes they were.  But that didn’t stop him from enjoying as much time as he could with his tiny sister like he used to.

“Jay-Jay!  There’s a fairy in my pocket!”

“How is there a fairy in the Pixie’s pocket?”

He asked jokingly while swinging the hands back and forth!

“Lookin lookie!  It’s a Ladybug fairy!  She’s so pwetty.”

Marinette held Tikki in both of her hands and jumped up and down trying to get him to look.  Jason chuckled and looked down at the toy.  It was cute, he had never seen something like it before.  Then it blinked, and flew out of Marinette’s hand, and oh gosh, IT CAN TALK?!

“Marinette, you need to help Chat Noir defeat the akuma?”

“Akuma matata!”

Marinette called out with a giggle.  Jason would have laughed, if it weren’t for the flying bug thing talking to his sister, who was currently 4, telling her to help someone defeat the crazed villain.

“Woah!  Are you insane?!  Look at her?!  How do you expect her to fight?!”

The thing looked conflicted before sighing and saying,

“Well, do you want to fight it?  You just need to wear the earrings, I can run you through what you need to do!”

“No!”

Marinette screamed.

“I want to be like you and daddy!  It’s my turn to help people!”

“Marinette, you're too young.”

Tears began to well up in the small child’s eyes.

“I-it’s no fair!  You al-always say that!  I want to help!”

She finished stamping her foot definitely with a sharp glare.  Jason sighed in exhaustion and turned to the floating creature.  He mumbles under his breath,

“Can’t believe I’m letting this happen.”

He knew by the way Marinette was gripping at her ears and the definence in her stance.  He could easily take them by force, but he didn’t want to hurt her or make her angry and feel betrayed.

“Can you assure above all else that she will be completely and utterly safe.  I will join as well in my hero suit to make absolutely sure.”

“Yes, she has a partner as well who will watch out for her.”

He sighed in relief at that, but there was a new and very heavy weight on his chest that wouldn’t leave until this event was over.  He listened to the fairy tell Marinette what she needed to do and almost smiled at the determined face she was making.  Her cheeks were so chubby and-no, focus!  He pulled out an extra domino mask he always carried with him and zipped up his leather jacket.  When he turned around there was a burst of pink light and where Tiny Mari once stood stood his sister in the cutest outfit he had ever seen!  It was similar to his old Robin outfit, but closer to Tim’s as she thankfully felt that there needed to be pants.  She had small wings on her back with a black cape with red bottom edges that shielded them from view.  And in her hands was a tiny yo-yo.  Before anything else could happen, he quickly pulled out his phone and took pictures.  He wanted to show this to Bruce and brag, sue him.

Soon after that they both left to the rooftops.  He was honestly surprised by how easily she maneuvered around the roofs and how easily her yo-yo grappled and released from things.  They soon landed next to a Cat Woman knock-off who turned to look at them in surprise and exhaustion.  When Marinette saw him she quickly turned to him and tugged on his sleeve.  Jason crouched down and Mini-bug leaned close to his ear and whispered,

“Does Selie have a son?”

Jason snickered and glanced up at the kid.  He seemed to have heard them if the ears twitching and confused look said anything.

“No Pix.  He was just inspired.”

“Oh, okie-dokie!”

“So, I’m assuming you two know each other and she was hit out of suit?”

“Yep, basically.”

“Right.  Well, we just need to break the wand, but I can’t get close.”

“Little Lady, cast your charm.”

Mini-bug puffed up her cheeks making her old —and most adorable— thinking face before yelling out while throwing the yo-yo into the air,

“Lucky Charm!”

“A red and black spotted rubber bullet dropped into Mini's awaiting palms.  Jason promptly took the bullet and loaded it into his gun, it was the perfect fit.  The hideously dressed child flew over to them and flourished her wand creating the opening Jason needed.  With one quick shot the bullet flew through the air and hit the wand causing it to snap.  A black and purple butterfly began to fly out and mini quickly caught it.  She quickly released it bouncing on her heels in pure joy as a wide smile grew onto her face.

“Told ya I coul’ do it!”

“Yes you did, good job Pix.”

Chat Noir, who they hadn’t noticed disappeared, came back with the bullet and handed it to the small girl.  She threw the bullet into the air jumping up as well and yelled out,

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

Millions of Ladybugs flew through the air repairing damages and Turing people back to normal ending with Ladybug herself.  Ladybug looked around confusedly and saw Chat on her right and Red Hood on her left.  Memories of the past hour flashed through her mind and she promptly hid her face in her hands and a deep blush bloomed across her face.

“This is a disaster, a complete disaster.”

“I don’t know Bug, was it?”

Jason asked with a crap eating grin.

“Yes.”

Came her mumbled response.  Jason laughed and ruffled her hair, Marinette was too miserable to care.

“We should go make sure golden boy isn’t panicking too much, don’t ya think?”

Marinette sighed tiredly and nodded, I guess so.

“Sorry Chat, I promise I’ll explain later.  Bug out.”

And as quickly as she could she swung away with Red Hood laughing and not too far behind.

“B is going to hate that he missed this.”

He called through the air causing a loud groan to escape her lips.

“Don’t show him!”

“Too late Pix, already sent them all to the group chat.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you to Babybug.”

Marinette groaned again and Jason laughed all the way to where they found Dick and Zatanna talking in an alleyway.

Taglist:

@queenz-z @aespades @fandomsaremylifeline @stainedglassm @toodaloo-kangaroo @prettylittlebutterflie @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00 @unoriginalmess @buginetye @miraculouslydumb @aurcad123

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin accidentally becomes Legolas/Katniss/Merida… you know the type;

He may be shitty at sword fighting, but Merlin begins to use a traditional bow and arrow and… actually becomes very good at it??

I imagine the first time he does it, it’s a complete fluke.

The five knights, The King, and Merlin are on their way back from yet another (frankly, ridiculous) quest.

They have been, of course, ambushed by a group of bandits, twenty to their six (six plus Merlin, though no one bar Lancelot knows about his magic, so he isn’t counted as a fighter). Though the knights outweigh them in skill, their sheer numbers makes it a… challenging, fight (meaning that they are winning, but far too slowly for their liking, and no one wants to admit it).

Now normally, Merlin hides behind a tree or in a ditch, and performs his spells quietly without being noticed, slowly helping and speeding up the fight. Except this time, the Gang was in the middle of a barren, open field, the bandits had disguised themselves with magic until the moment they attacked, and Merlin was right in the middle of all the action.

Everyone worried for his safety. There was nowhere for him to hide here, so they had to keep an eye on him, lest he get hurt (and Arthur sulked, or kicked off, depending on how badly he was hurt).

With nowhere to hide (and no branches to drop, or roots to trip people with), and one of the knights throwing a glance his way every ten seconds, he couldn’t use his magic.

He was currently on his hands and knees, Leon directly in front of him, Percival to his left, holding off four attackers between them (Merlin would marvel at how impressive that was if he weren’t otherwise preoccupied).

He keeps trying to get to Arthur, crawling between legs and over the groaning, injured bodies of bandits (he made a point to land sharp elbows and harsh knees into the more… sensitive areas), but with everyone moving around so rapidly, and the vicious swinging of swords and axes and maces inches above his head, he kept getting side-tracked and blocked and almost knocked out.

With a frustrated huff, he notices yet another bandit rounding on The King. Said huff turns into a pained gasp when he realises that Arthur hasn’t seen him yet.

The bandit raises his weapon in the air, seconds from bringing it down on Arthur’s back, but Leon is right there, and there are no branches to drop on him, and Arthur still hasn’t noticed!

The noise is too loud, grunts and yells and clashes of metal drowning out any sort of warning yell that Merlin could throw Arthur’s way, and he scrabbles around on the floor desperately; hands raking through sharp grass and over bloodied bodies as he stares in horror at the triumphant smirk on the future-King-killer’s face.

Time seems to slow (no magic, just adrenaline) as Merlin’s hands find purchase on a smooth, curved piece of wood. He picks it up without looking, at first intending to throw whatever it is as hard as he can in the bandits direction, before something (magic, instincts, periphery vision, who knows) tells him to look down.

He obeys, and widens his eyes as he sees the longbow gripped tightly in his right hand, and a stray arrow on the floor next to his left.

Merlin is no expert, only having actually hunted once or twice back home in Ealdor, when he was younger, but that was just enough knowledge for him to know roughly how to notch the arrow and fire. He pulls the two up quickly, a plan formulating in his head:

Step 1) Notch arrow.

Step 2) Close eyes.

Step 3) Magic? Hope?

Step 4) Come up with some sort of lie that explains how he managed to make the shot from sixty yards away, through a crowd.

Thankfully, it would appear that Merlin’s bad luck has given him a rest today; the first three steps go off without a hitch (the fourth will come a little later, when the battle is over), but he doesn’t have time to congratulate himself before he’s thrown into the fray, the bandits now obviously seeing him as some sort of threat.

Arthur finally defeats his own attackers, looking behind him in shock to see his unknown enemy lying on the floor, gurgling up blood and grasping weakly at the arrow through his neck. His head whips to the side, trying to find whoever had made the shot; his bewildered gaze meets Merlin’s for only a second before the servant is dragged to his feet, and promptly punched in the face.

He stumbles back and can just about hear Leon yell something from beside him but he pays it no mind, righting his balance once again and swinging his arm back, before bringing it down harshly on his newest attackers head. The resounding crack echoes over the field as the wood of the longbow splits in two on the bandit’s skull, and he drops like a sack of potatoes.

The fight doesn’t last much longer, each knight taking advantage of their enemies' fatigue, and Merlin using his now broken longbow to whack them in the shins or trip them up when they weren’t paying attention.

He was sad to see it broken, but two of his closest friends literally owned a blacksmith's, and he had easy access to the Castle’s armoury; he could get a hold of another one easily enough, as long as he survived the journey back home.

The battle finally came to a close. Everyone was exhausted, and each of them was sporting more than one hefty bruise, but they were all alive and there were no serious injuries, so they could be grateful for that. After Arthur had counted his men, and generally taken stock of things, he traipsed tiredly over to Merlin, who had abandoned his broken bow in favour of cleaning a still weeping cut on Elyan’s temple.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Merlin.”

The servant ignores him at first, biting his lip in concentration as he carefully wipes the grime away from the wound. It was small, so an infection wouldn’t be too worrying, but it wouldn’t be comfortable and would make the scarring worse, so best to avoid it if at all possible. He hums in satisfaction as he leans back on his heels, Elyan gives him a grateful smile, and Merlin finally throws a glance Arthur’s way, before focusing back on threading the needle in his hands; it would only need two or three stitches, thankfully:

“Hmm. I'm not fond of hunting, but we had to for food back in Ealdor. Except we didn’t have fancy crossbows or hunting dogs, so we had to make do with hand-whittled longbows.”

Arthur nods, frowning slightly:

“Still, if I’d known you were that good, I would’ve demanded you had a bow of your own; that way us lot wouldn’t have to spend so much time making sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

Merlin smirked and quirked an eyebrow, but doesn’t look away from Elyan’s stitches, whispering an apology at the man’s wince before he speaks slowly, concentrating:

“Careful Sire, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

Elyan snorts out a laugh, but Merlin tuts and lightly slaps his leg disapprovingly, and he stills again. Arthur rolls his eyes with a huff:

“As if. Hurry up, I want to get moving as soon as possible.”

~

Arthur wasn’t the only one that noticed Merlin’s outstanding shot, and over the course of the next few day’s journey home, he received a multitude of compliments from the other knights. 

Including an hour long excited infodump about the history and use of longbows from Leon, which Merlin eagerly hung onto every word of, a fond smile on his face (Leon was a noble, and had it practically beaten into him to not ramble, so Merlin always did his best not to discourage the man. That, and the fact that it was actually very interesting, and useful, if he were to keep up this charade that he was an expert marksman).

When Merlin finally had a moment alone with Lancelot, a few days after they had gotten back, he burst:

“Please please tell me you know how to use a longbow??”

Lancelot raises his eyebrow from where he was sat on the bed in Merlin’s room. Merlin was staring at him with unconcealed desperation, and the knight chuckled as he answered:

“Why? It’s not like you need any more training, that was a cracking shot.”

Merlin huffed loudly, running his hands through his hair as he looked back at the knight:

“I used magic!! I closed my eyes so no one would see and I guided the arrow with magic! Now everyone thinks I’m some master marksman! This is bad. What if next time I can’t use magic, or what if someone notices that I have my eyes closed when I fire?”

Lancelot clamps a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to stop himself from giggling, but he gives up quickly, bursting into laughter at the younger man’s panic. Said younger man fumes, sputtering as he picks up one of the knight’s discarded boots and throws it at him:

“It’s not funny, Lance! I’m being serious, this is an actual issue!”

Lancelot calms himself, rubbing the mirth from his eyes as he takes a deep breath:

“Ok ok, sorry. Yes, I can teach you to use a longbow properly. Have you ever actually used one before, or was the hunting thing a cover?”

The red fades from Merlin’s face slightly as he realises the other man is intending to help him, his panic lessening:

“Sort of. Yeah, I went hunting with a bow a couple times, but not enough to be that good at it.”

Lancelot sighs fondly and nods his head:

“Well, that’s a start at least. Come on, I’ve not got patrol until after dinner, and Arthur thinks you’re busy helping Gaius, so we’ve got a few hours.”

~

So I imagine that’s how it goes for a while.

After their last big adventure, Arthur was reluctant to head out as a group again, wanting to give everyone time to recuperate and get back into the swing of things.

Merlin’s skills with a bow were bought up constantly by everyone, news had even reached Gwen (who gave him a proud smile and a cute little dance to congratulate him) and Gaius (who raised an eyebrow, and had much better skill than Lancelot at holding in his laughter). 

Gwaine, Elyan, and even Percival were desperate to set up targets and watch him shoot shit (their words), Leon wanted to talk about the specifics of technique and crafting, and Arthur... well. Arthur sounded like he was taking the piss, but there was something else in his tone that Merlin couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

Affection? Pride?

Probably not, probably jealousy and annoyance that Merlin is so effortlessly good at something that Arthur himself was average at at best.

Merlin manages to avoid it for a while, showing his “skills” off, but he and Lancelot are running out of excuses, and Arthur is starting to accuse him of being a fake who got lucky. Normally, things like that didn’t bother Merlin, and technically Arthur wasn’t wrong... he had got lucky, and cheated with magic, but that wasn’t the point. It was nice for Merlin, to be good at something, really good.

He was good at plenty of other things. Magic for starters, though not even Lancelot knew the full extent of his power in that area. But he cooked well (shown by the fact that the knights always scoffed the lot), he was a good physician (shown by the fact that the knights trusted him just as much as Gaius when it came to treating injuries and sickness), and he was a BRILLIANT servant, if he did say so himself.

But he never got any actual praise for that. Merlin hated to think badly of the knights, his friends, but they only complained when Merlin wasn’t there, never praised him when he was. Well, apart from Lancelot. And that had just started a bunch of rumours that they were... uh... boinking. 

(False. Anyone with more than two braincells could see that Sir Lancelot was head over heals in love with the newly-promoted Housekeeper, Guinevere, and that The King’s Manservant had an affinity for certain a blond prat-King.)

ANYWAY

It was nice for Merlin to have a skill that others thought worth complimenting, and with Lancelot monitoring his practice sessions, correcting any mistakes and offering congratulations whenever he did well, he hoped it wouldn’t be too long before he no longer had to come up with excuses.

Luckily, Merlin picked it up very quickly. 

Despite being clumsy by nature (though Lancelot is starting to suspect more and more that it’s all for show), the dark haired servant can consistently hit bullseyes from fifty yards within a month. The further away from the target he got, the less astounding his aim was, but that was to be expected, and another month later he could successfully hit a moving target from seventy feet.

A training session, around three months after he started properly practicing, he finally “gave in” to Gwaine’s begging. Lancelot helped him set up a bunch of targets, and fetched a bag of apples to throw.

Merlin put on quite the show, grinning at the uproarious applause he got from the knights when he hit every single bullseye, and every single thrown target. Thankfully the knowing, proud smiles between the servant and Sir Lancelot went unnoticed, and even Arthur gave him a clap on the back and an impressed nod.

~

The first time Merlin met the knights in the courtyard to find Leon holding a longbow and quiver of arrows out to him, he panicked slightly, but one reassuring smile from Lancelot boosted his confidence, and he took them with a quiet thank you.

(After the fifth time, Arthur huffed, and told him to just keep them. He was the only one that regularly signed them out of the armoury anyway, so it would just be easier if he just took possession of them.)

It settled everyone’s stomachs, knowing that not only did the group have a master marksmen, hiding in the trees and taking out enemies that they didn’t see coming, but that Merlin personally now had more than his frankly horrifying (or... horrifying as far as they were concerned) stealth skills to keep him safe.

And that (a master marksmen in the trees) is exactly what happened. 

In the early days, it involved a lot of bruises; Merlin could fire well, but firing and balancing at the same time? Took some getting used to, and involved a lot of falling out of trees at inopportune times.

The knights, Gwaine and Arthur especially, laughed endlessly at that, but quickly stopped after a particularly tired and irate and bruised Merlin fired an arrow so close by Gwaine’s crotch, that it stuck his trousers fast into the tree just behind him.

At first, it was meant to be just as back-up; Merlin was no knight. He still refused to wear armour, and Arthur didn’t want his manservant to make himself a target... at least that was his excuse.

Really, it was because (as far as Arthur was aware) Merlin had never deliberately killed before. Even now, years into his Kingship, and even longer into his knighthood, Arthur hated killing; it made him sick, and took a lot of practice at compartmentalization before it no longer bothered him as much.

Merlin was his manservant, his (best) friend, the love of his life (secretly). He was not a warrior, he was not meant to kill, he was meant to be protected from that.

But alas, Merlin did not get the memo, and the first patrol he went on with his bow and quiver slung over his shoulder, he killed at least five bandits.

After the fight, it was Leon who approached him first, a concerned look on his face despite Merlin’s nonchalant expression as he checked over the string for wear and tear:

“Are you feeling alright, Merlin? You got a few good shots in there, you’re not feeling sick?”

Merlin looked up at the hand on his shoulder and the soft words, a confused look on his face:

“Why would being good make me feel sick?”

Leon tilts his head in sympathy, which just makes Merlin even more confused:

“The man you killed the other month was spur of the moment, protecting your King. But you... you killed a fair few men today, Merlin. I know that can be incredibly difficult at first, I just wanted to check in.”

The others had finally walked over to join them; Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, and Arthur looking equally concerned, whilst Lancelot hid his proud smile. Merlin just raised an eyebrow at them:

“You seem to be under the impression that I’ve never killed anyone before?”

Everyone (bar Lancelot) looks taken aback at that, and Arthur frowns whilst Leon drops his hand in shock. The King speaks slowly:

“Merlin, are you telling us you’ve killed people before?”

The manservant clenches his jaw at that and looks back down at his bow, resuming his checking of the string and its knots. He speaks lowly, and the knights can tell it’s not a topic he’s fond of:

“Hmm. It’s a tough world, Sire. I’ve done what I had to, to keep myself and the people I care about safe.”

At his dark reply, conversation stopped, and didn’t resume for the rest of the day as everyone contemplated Merlin’s words.

That is, until he was the first one to successfully catch dinner later that evening. At which he got an incredulous look from Arthur when he made it back to camp with his half of the patrol:

“I thought you despised hunting??”

Merlin didn’t look up from the hares he was skinning, and the rest of the knights tuned in, curious:

“No. I hate hunting for sport; it shows hubris and cruelty. Hunting for food is not only necessary and natural, but humbling, if you do it right and honour every part of the creature.”

Arthur, ever the eloquent one, stared at him blankly, and said, rather dumbly:

“...What?”

Merlin huffed, finally looking up:

“Going after helpless animals on horseback with crossbows and hunting dogs is like giving yourself a huge pat on the back for winning a tournament against an unarmoured, unarmed, unconscious opponent, and then calling yourself strong and brave for daring to fight in the first place. It’s an egotistical act of violence for no other reason than cruelty for the sake of cruelty.-”

The knights looks on him with shock, Percival and Leon at least having the decency to look a little ashamed. Merlin looks back down to the hares, and everyone notices the careful way he cuts at the fur:

“I’ve taken these lives to feed us as a necessity. The meat will be eaten, but that isn’t all. I’ll take the bones home for Gaius, the marrow is useful in a lot of medicine. The fur can be repurposed for winter gloves or socks. The organs and other bits that we won’t eat: I’ll take for the pigs in the farms, or the dogs up at the castle. In using every part of them we are... honouring them, in a way. As a thank-you for their... sacrifice.”

Arthur looks a little dumbfounded. As royalty, he of course had never really considered the waste that comes about with hunting, but Merlin, a farm-boy from a rural village who barely scraped by every winter? Of course he saw a deeper meaning in hunting. He would have to.

Elyan is the first to break the silence:

“You almost sound religious, Merlin.”

Merlin looks up at him, a strained smile on his face. As magic incarnate, he has a particularly strong, temperamental relationship with nature and her creatures, a bond that some might call faith. To be wasteful or cruel in any way hurts him in more ways than one:

“Not really, I just have respect for nature, is all.”

No one mentions the thinly-veiled insult, but everyone creeps closer, wanting to see the way he disassembles the creatures for future reference.

~

It’s been eight months since that first, perfect shot.

Merlin’s skills with a longbow had become a normal, expected part of The Gang’s experiences, but the knights never stopped praising and thanking him when he saved their lives (something that Merlin still hadn’t quite gotten used), and The King had apparently not stopped thinking about it for barely more than a second. 

Yule was approaching quickly: Merlin, Gwen, and the Steward being constantly busy with preparations in the castle, the knights being run off their feet escorting emergency aid to the border villages for the harsh winter, and Arthur himself having every minute of the day taken up with speech writing, invite sending, and his other general King-during-Yule duties.

That however, was all to be expected, and of course did nothing to keep Arthur and Merlin from their annual traditions.

It wasn’t official, it wasn’t even spoken of, but the last evening of Yule, the night before the new year, the two of them always spent together.

The last feast of the year would finish, Arthur would stay to see his guests off, thank the staff for all of their hard work, and finally retire to his chambers, his tired manservant barely a hair’s breadth behind him. They would sit in front of the lit hearth (in comfy chairs that only they used), work their way through a jug or two of wine, exchange small gifts, and fall asleep in front of the fire. Their hands, dangling over the side of their chairs, seem to be creeping closer and closer with each passing year; though have yet to become entangled by morning.

This year was somehow no different, and very different, at the same time.

The King and his Manservant settled in their chairs, tired and already a little more than tipsy from the wine drunk during the feast. Arthur looked up at Merlin, the fond smile dropping from his face when he sees the other man’s features pulled into a contemplative frown:

“What’s on your mind, Merls? I don’t think I’ve seen you this serious since the start of the celebrations.”

Merlin looked up at him suddenly, his eyes wide, but he smiles and shakes his head:

“Nothing, nothing. Just thinking is all.”

Normally, Arthur would raise an eyebrow and let a scathing tease on the state of Merlin’s intelligence fall from his lips, but not tonight. This is the only night of the year that The King allows himself to entertain the idea that perhaps he and Merlin were more than friends, or at least could be. So instead he resumes his smiling, and looks back to the fire, taking another sip of his wine before responding softly:

“What about?”

Merlin hums, copying Arthur’s wine-sipping, before taking a deep breath:

“The future, mostly. You, me, Camelot. Secrets and truths, and when one might turn into the other. Soon, I think... yeah. Soon.”

Arthur huffs slightly in amusement. He knows that Merlin hides a great deal of himself, but he always becomes more cryptic after a few glasses of wine, like he desperately wants to say something and doesn’t have the power to stop himself from hinting at whatever it may be.

He asks his next question good-naturedly, a smile sweetened by wine gracing his face:

“The hell does that mean?”

Merlin lets out a short laugh, looking up at the other man:

“Oh, you know. Thinking about spilling all my deepest darkest secrets to you, at some point soon.”

Arthur snorts, saying, only for the sake of keeping up the charade they’ve built:

“You don’t have any secrets, Merlin. Certainly not any that are deep or dark.”

Once, Arthur would have believed that. Then, when he stopped believing it, he was angry about it, and now? Now, he finds he doesn’t mind so much. He is confident, he has faith, in both himself and in Merlin. He knows that those secrets are there, and Merlin knows that he knows, but that’s ok. Nothing either of them could reveal would tear them apart, at least not for long, so Arthur was happy to wait until Merlin was happy to share.

Merlin chuckled at Arthur’s response, shaking his head slightly before reaching down and picking up a small wrapped parcel that he’d stowed away before the feast:

“Come on, I’m a little nervous about your gift this year, so let’s get it over and done with.”

Arthur nodded, accepting the change in subject, and set his wine down so he could pick up the (much bigger) parcel by his own chair.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. After the first gift-exchange happened, Merlin had put his foot down and made Arthur swear to not go overboard on the expense side of things. Arthur may have been a prince, and now a King, but Merlin was still just a servant/physician; he could hardly afford anything worthy of a King. 

He had a feeling that Arthur might’ve broken his word this year, but where Arthur had likely gone overboard with expense, Merlin had definitely gone overboard with sentimentality.

They swapped parcels, Merlin placing the large, heavy box carefully at his feet as he gestured Arthur to open his first. Arthur got to it, tearing the paper off without a second of hesitation, and Merlin allowed himself to smile fondly at the child-like excitement on the blonde’s face.

Arthur’s brow creased as he dropped the paper to the floor, stroking soft fingers over the worn leather of an old, well-loved book. Merlin took deep, fortifying breaths as Arthur carefully opened the first few pages, butterflies in his stomach as Arthur’s eyes wandered the yellowed paper in curiosity.

The King looked up at him, amused confusion on his face as he asked:

“Is this yours? I didn’t know you could draw, Merlin.”

Merlin gulped, and shook his head as memories of the exquisite sketches filled his mind; detail-perfect renditions of the castle, the town square, waterfalls and knights in action and people that Merlin didn’t recognise (for the most part. Arthur evidently hadn’t gotten to any of the pages with young Uther on them).

“No, not mine. This one requires a little explanation-”

Arthur nodded, carefully closing the book and holding it protectively in his lap as he gave Merlin his undivided attention:

“-I mentioned off-handedly to Leon a few months ago that I thought the lack of... of paintings of the late Queen in the castle was odd.-”

Arthur gulped at the mention of his mother, but nodded with a small smile when Merlin paused:

“-He said that when she passed, The King had everything to do with her moved to the vaults. He couldn’t force himself to destroy any of it, but looking at it, day in and day out, was too painful. We found the keys, with the help of Geoffrey, and went down to have a look, see what we could find. We didn’t tell you about it because we didn’t want to disappoint you, in case we couldn’t find anything.-”

Merlin once again looked a little nervous at this, and reached a hand out towards Arthur. When the man didn’t flinch away (if anything, he leaned into it), he moved to grip his shoulder blade, running his thumb over the exposed skin at the base of The King’s neck.

“-We found... a lot. Old clothes and paintings mainly, some jewellery. But then I found that;-”

He nodded at the book in Arthur’s lap, and tightened his grip on his shoulder. Merlin spoke his next words so quietly that Arthur almost doesn’t hear him, a soft smile on his face:

“-your mother was quite the artist, Arthur. I knew you had to have it.”

Arthur gasped softly, his eyes widening as he looked down at the book:

“You... you think my mother drew these?”

Merlin smiled at him, moving his hand to squeeze Arthur’s wrist slightly, before dropping it entirely:

“Check the back page.”

Arthur took a deep breath before doing what Merlin said, handling the book with even more care than he had before now that he knows who it belonged to. He turned to the very last page, to see an inscription written in beautiful cursive. Merlin recited it aloud, having memorised the words weeks ago:

“My dearest son, my silly sketches are able to hold only a fraction of our Kingdom’s beauty. I know one day that you will see what I see, treasure it just as much, and make it your own. You have my support, forever and always, your loving Mother.”

Arthur bites his lip harshly, lifting the book to press his forehead against the words as he shuts his eyes tightly, though that does nothing to stop the tears. Merlin replaces his hand on The King’s shoulder as the man shakes. He sniffles slightly, putting the book back in his lap, though keeping his hands wrapped around it securely, as he looks to Merlin:

“Merlin, I... I don’t even know what to say. This is... amazing. I... Thank you.”

Merlin smiles, shaking his head slightly:

“Technically, it wasn’t even mine to give, it’s always been yours. But I thought it might make a nice surprise. There’s plenty of other stuff down there, I’ll show you in the morning.”

Arthur nods his head, wiping his tears as he carefully places the book on his side table and gestures to the box at Merlin’s feet. He was itching to scour through the book, dedicating every single line to memory, but whilst Merlin had been nervous about Arthur’s gift, Arthur was buzzing about Merlin’s, and he was desperate to see the man’s reaction.

Merlin huffs out a laugh, but picks the box up, noting once again how heavy it is. He sets about removing the paper, much calmer and more methodical than Arthur had been, with his face pinched in concentration.

He frowns in curiosity as he sets eyes on the wooden box. It had a hinged lid, and a logo that he’s certain he recognises burned like a brand into the corner. He can feel Arthur bouncing in his chair slightly, and looks up at him in amusement, laughing once again when he nods excitedly back down at the box.

He lifts the lid, and takes in a shocked breath.

Inside was a beautifully crafted long bow; the wood smooth and varnished and carved, and a leather quiver. The patterns embossed in the leather and carved in to the metal at the base, match those carved into the wood of the bow, and Merlin traces soft fingers over the intricate swirls, stopping with a teary smile at the Pendragon crest, carved just next to a Merlin bird.

He lets out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding as he looks up at the excited King:

“Arthur this is beautiful. Gods I almost don’t want to touch it, I feel like it should be on display behind glass.”

Arthur lets out a laugh, obviously pleased with Merlin’s reaction:

“Nope. It will be going with you every time you leave the city, and considering how much trouble we always seem to attract, I have no doubt that it will see a lot of use.”

Merlin laughs, closing the lid carefully and setting the box back on the floor, before launching himself bodily at Arthur. The blonde laughs, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s middle with no hesitation as the other man mutters endless thank-yous in his ear.

The servant finally pulls back, settling in his own chair again, and the two of them hope that the other puts the flush on their face down to the wine, and nothing else. They look to each other with wide grins on their faces, and Arthur breaks the stare first, taking another gulp of his wine before laughing jovially and speaking:

“Well. Here’s to an amazing year, and hopefully an even better one, starting in a few minutes.”

Merlin nods, lifting his own goblet to tap it against Arthur’s:

“Here’s to the past, that guides us-”

He gestures to the book on Arthur’s table:

“-and the future, that calls to us.”

He gestures to his new bow, and they both finish their wine off, a healthy flush to their cheeks and fond smiles on their faces.

They fall asleep in their respective chairs, the same as every year. 

In the morning, they wake with pounding headaches, a promise of a golden future, and hands intertwined.

~

THE END!!

We love a cutesy/hopeful ending😌

Like always lads, you wanna write it out in full, go for it, credit and tag me✌️

Head over to This List to see what I’m working on next, and cast your vote!

[wizkiddx]

hiii!!! omg please please pleasee do a part two of 3 hearts broken cus it fucking slaps miss girl

part 2 to 3 broken hearts!!! ive been so 🥺 at all the lovely comments+interest pt 1 had so thanku all !

summary: serious serious angst again will tom somehow get it back (unlike looking cos boy is a fool)

warnings: again lots of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) / wayyyy too much tea / slating Dom abit (obvs fictional but idk if I like the guy sorry his opinions are :/) / commitment issues

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

read part 1 here!!!!

That was three days ago now. Three days since you'd spoken to your boyfrien- well, Tom. It wasn't evident what the situation was.

The typical British weather brought with it the most ironic pathetic fallacy you could ever see. The clouds were dark and glooming, firing angry pellets of rain out as hard as they could. When you had pulled up on the roadside, it had just been a light drizzle but synchronised with your anxiety levels rising - so did the rain. When you finally opened up the car door, you threw your hoodie open with a sigh before running up the pathway to the front door.

It was the same burgundy red that you knew so well, but this time instead of just letting yourself in - you stood in the rain used the brass knocker thing twice. To be honest, you were hoping that no one was home - but in that house, it was pretty unlikely. After 30 seconds of getting drenched in the downpour, you were about to let yourself in with the spare key before the door swung open.

"Oh! Er Y/n?"

"Yeh um hi." You had to shout a bit over the sound of what must now be classified as a storm.

"Toms not-"

"I know. Can I come in?" As awkward and stunted as this conversation was, if you didn't get out of the rain asap you would literally end up drowned.

“Oh er yeh-yeh yeh come in.”

Harry stammered as he held the door open, gesturing for you to enter into the tiled hallway. Gratefully, you followed, throwing your sopping wet hood back down and wiping your feet on the floor.

"Sorry for just showing up, but I left some scripts here. My management are on my arse to read them and-"

"And you waited till Tom left for mum and dads?" The fluffy-haired boy has caught you red-handed; there was no defence, so you didn't even try.

Because yes, you knew on a Friday afternoon when Tom was home he would always, like clockwork, go to his parents just to kick back and watch gogglebox with both of them. It was only natural then that you chose Friday afternoon to come and pick up your stuff.

"I've been waiting in my car for half an hour till I saw him leave." Harry half laughed at that, still the two of you standing opposite each other in the hallway. "Um, do you… do you hate me Harry?"

Clearly, he hadn't quite been expecting your question going by the way his eyes almost bugged out his head.

"No, I-I, of course, I don't… look, I'm home alone so you fancy a cuppa?" Not being able to help the small chuckle, you nodded appreciatively, following Harry through the house.

"Your answer to everything is tea."

Harry had prepared the two mugs in silence as you sat at the table waiting patiently - if nervously too. You didn't miss how Harry had still used your favourite mug, having had to dig through the cupboard to find the weird square-shaped thing. Once done, he rounded the kitchen island and placed it in front of you, which you instantly cradled in two hands - for the hope of warming you up.

"You cold?" Obviously, it was pretty evident that sitting in your rain-soaked hoodie was not cosy at all. "Hang on a sec."

The boy sprung up again, returning moments later with a hoodie in hand, one he offered out to you with a little smile. The issue was that him and Tom shared clothes, so the hoodie he was kindly offering to you also had been worn by Tom before. Which made it hurt a little bit to wear. It was better than sitting soaked through though.

"How have you been then?"

"Not the best, to be honest, but uh… how about you?"

"Being with Tom while he's fighting with you? Oh, it's a barrel of laughs. You might've escaped it, but I haven't." He was trying to lighten the mood, and you appreciated it, offering him a half-smile that didn't really meet your eyes.

"Yeh sorry about that."

"Don't apologise; it doesn't sound like it's your fault Y/n."

That surprised you. Tom, especially when he was in moods like he was when you argued, wasn't one to admit when he was wrong. It was usually how the world was against him and how he was so hard done by. Accepting responsibility was something he hadn't said to you yet - but at least, small steps.

"He say that?"

"Pretty much… doesn't seem like he's angry at you, but-but he's still angry."

"At the world?" You rolled your eyes; this seemed to be the same old Tom through and through. Still immature. Still not with the right mindset.

"At himself." Harry countered, slightly entertained, when he saw the flash of surprise in your face as he sipped his drink. "And me… if I dare to so much as breathe this week."

This time you properly laughed, and Harry joined in too before the room fell back to silence - except the noise of the rain hitting the garden patio slats. You swirled the tea round in your mug, feeling the brunette's eyes on you. He'd always been your fake little brother too, since you'd met the Hollands way back 3 and a half years ago. Tom and yourself were barely adults, which meant the twins were still proper children. Harry had always been the one that understood you. Hollands, by nature, loved humans - loved to talk, to chat, to gossip. But sometimes, doing all that socialising got too much for you, as it did for Harry. He was the only one that seemed to understand social exhaustion. So when those moments had hit, you'd kept each other company in silence.

He got you, sometimes in ways your own boyfriend didn't.

"You know why he got so worked up, right?" You shook your head, looking up curiously. "Dad got under his skin on his birthday zoom thing."

Ah, now that did seem to coincide with the start of Tom's more petulant phase. To be fair, Tom had been asking to move in together for near enough a year now - but it was only in the past month it seemed to be the only thing you'd talk about and obviously only three days since the flight back. Dom's birthday barely a week ago, whilst you and Tom were both filming - except Tom had managed to get a day off where you hadn't. So you hadn't heard this conversation.

"What'd he say?"

"Was talking about how he and mum were settling down at Toms age, joked about how you rejected him, said maybe you were holding out for something better."

"Something better?" Harry sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows.

"He'd seen an article just off a trashy tabloid… it named you Hollywood's golden girl or something, said you could have the pick of any person on the planet…"

Of all the people in the world, why is Tom affected by shit journalism? He knows how much bullshit people write. He knows how it's all made up, exaggerated nonsense. And what he should know, completely and totally, is how much you love him. And if he didn't, was that your fault? Had you done something wrong, something to make him doubt you?

Harry seemed to notice the internal dialogue going on in your head, adding to the point. "It wasn't the article though, it was the fact dad said it."

Hmmm.

You and Dom got on; it wasn't like you hated the possible future father in law or whatever. Just…. you had very different outlooks. As much as Tom prided himself on how' grounded his family keeps him' -to you at least, they aren't entirely at sea level either. They'd never really had any particular struggles in life. They were the definition of middle class, and that's about it. They lived in a posh suburb of London, had all their family still around. It was the perfect family.

And whilst you were in no illusions about how privileged your life was now. It hadn't always been. You'd never had the 'nuclear' family. Instead, only your dad and a string of dodgy and fleeting stepmothers while struggling to make ends meet. So you were just always wary of Dom, of his opinions that so often his boys took for gospel. They always seemed pretty sheltered and close-minded.

And yet, Tom was a grown man.

"I get that, I just… Tom should know that we know more about our relationship than his dad. I mean,… have I done something wrong? Made him think I'm not in this for the long haul?"

"No nonono Y/n he's just… well he's an idiot, isn't he? I don't think he properly understands why you're cautious about moving and everything. He's just an idio- "

Harry was cut off for lightly insulting his brother by the sound of the front door opening, both of your heads swivelling towards the source. You then met Harry's eyes in a panic, to which he replied relatively simply.

"Just talk to each other. For my sake." You would've argued if it weren't for the fact you were so focused on Tom's shuffling around in the entrance hallway - back early from his parents.

"Baz? Where you at? I thought I saw Y/n's car and-"

"Kitchen!!!" Before Tom could say anything else, possibly landing himself in more trouble, Harry interrupted as his chair screeched while standing up. And then Tom was just there. Standing in the doorway, his arms dropping limply to his side as he noticed you. Everything about that moment seemed to freeze, when you locked eyes with him for the first time in three days. It didn't go unnoticed, the way his Adams apple bobbed, the way his eyes widen. The boy looked plain and simply terrified.

It was Harry who broke the silence, after giving you a stern look that said 'stay'. The younger Holland boy walked up to Tom and spoke.

"Try actually talking and actually listening about your problems with each other." And then he was gone, down the hallway and up the stairs.

For a few moments, Tom stayed absolutely stationary, now staring at where Harry had been when speaking to the both of you (but mainly Tom). Long enough to put your sense of unease at an all-time high, ready to make a break for it.

"If you don't want to talk, then I can leav-"

"NO!" Apparently snapping out of it, Tom exclaimed loud enough to make you flinch from your seat. "Sorry! I-I just… I wasn't expecting to… you know, to see you."

"Yeh I just uh- just came to pick up some scripts… Harry cornered me with a tea, though; otherwise, I'd be…."

"Baz thinks the whole world could be fixed with tea."

"that's what I said!" You instinctively responded, forgetting the fact you're supposed to be mad at him, and just for a second falling back into your normal flow.

Tom didn't even try to hide his grin in response, until you quickly corrected your face- then he did too. Turning around to put the kettle on for himself. Because right now, he needed to fix his whole world, and he needed all the help he could get. For a period, the only noise was the sound of the kettle boiling, then the teaspoon clinking against the mug as he stirred - until he padded over, taking the seat across from you.

"So."

"So."

"It's been a while," Tom stated the bloody obvious.

"You never called."

"Didn't think you'd want me to."

You thought that the early signs weren't all that auspicious. His ability to read a situation once again failing.

"I wanted you to say something."

"Say what?"

"What do you think Tom?" He replied to the sarcastic tone by sucking in a sharp breath, holding it for a second, before slowly exhaling. As if trying to compose himself, take time to think of a response - a mature move for him.

"Well, I think you want me to say sorry? For being so moody and not waiting for you and for upsetting those kids. And thanks too, for covering for me?"

You just hummed. Waiting for him to continue. Because yes, you did deserve all those things. But you also deserved more. An apology for, oh I don't know, saying he didn't think you loved him? It was a wait that never ended, he had nothing more to add.

"Going by your face, I take it I missed something?"

The bloody cheek of it.

"Theres nothing else? Nothing else at all? …" You gave him that chance, the opportunity but all he could respond with was a shake of his head. "You thought I was fine about you saying that I don't love you?" You hadn't intended on raising your voice, but really you hadn't realised you did till after the fact. To blinded by rage at his ignorance.

"You want to talk about this now?"

"When else Tom?" You sighed, realising he perhaps wasn't ready for this conversation. Maybe he needed more time to think things through, have sense talked into him by various wiser family members. Or maybe, he never would be. That was the worst-case scenario. But also… you're most likely prediction.

He shuffled in his seat, clearing his voice but not saying anything. Not a peep.

"I have spent three years of my life with you. I've had countless nights of too little sleep because that was the only time you could facetime. I've exposed my relationship to the world and people's opinions because you didn't want to hide. All I've done is love you. How could you even say that?" There might've been tears in your eyes, yet you were determined to keep them at bay. You needed to have this out, one way or another, to be clear and cohesive and logical. No time to cry.

"Y/n I know that, I…" He sighed, instinctively reaching for your hand, but you were quicker to pull it away. There was hurt in his eyes, but so there should be. "It just sometimes feels like that's it for you. That yeh you love me but you just want to standstill. That this is as much as it'll ever be."

Your emotions were suddenly uncontainable. Your voice croaked as you whispered, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No love, nonono if that's how you feel then that's okay. But it's something I'm not… shit this is hard." He took a pause to take a sip of his drink, your glazed eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I can stand still anymore. And yeh I was pissy and childish the other day because my dad got under my skin about the whole moving in thing… But these past few days, it just has got me thinking. Because I love you, so much."

This time when he reached out to grab your hand, you actually leaned into it yourself. Not because you were giving in, but because this hurt. This hurt so fucking much that you needed something to ground you, or else god knows. Because the way he was speaking, it sounded so finite.

"I love you too."

"I do know, which is…is why this is so hard." At the very least, Tom had conceded that.

The conversation ceased to silence yet again. The room felt so cold; even Tom/Harry's hoodie was doing nothing to keep you from the endless empty cold that seemed to be coming from within.

"When I re-registered my health card last month, and I made you my emergency contact on it. I-I made you my next of kin on everything actually. I didn't think about it twice. And-and this-"You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, immediately pulling up the app onto the open page. "This is my Pinterest board for our baby's nursery theme. I know-" You paused, to quickly wipe your cheeks clear of the tear tracks that may or may not have been there. "I know it's probably a long way away, but I just love the Scandinavian theme." You laughed at yourself, suddenly embarrassed at your blabbering and quickly pulled up a different app. "And this… this was from the other week when I was helping Y/bf/n start her vows." Hands trembling as you turned the phone around for Tom to see again. "She was finding it really tricky so she said, what would you say to Tom on your wedding, so-so I made this list." You only dared to look at him when you were sure he'd be reading through that note.

It was bizarre because he looked… well, he looked happy. Here you were feeling traumatised, showing things that you'd barely even deeped how committed they were - and he was pleased? Feeling the fire burn once again inside of your chest, you quickly swiped the phone away and back into your pocket. Only then did he look up, eyes widening - presumably at quite how psychotic you looked.

"So don't you dare say that I don't want a future with you."

You said it with such force, there was a pause. Tom letting those words sink deep into his brain. The way his expression flickered minutely gave you hope. You thought he got it. You thought he really understood now.

"But why don't you want to move in then?"

There it was again. He knew why. But he didn't get it. And, probably, he never would.

You were about to crash completely. So you ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even aware of your chair crashing to the floor in your wake. You ran out of that house and away from him. Away from who you had thought was the love of your life.

?give tom a final chance w one last part?

feedback is always v v appreciated <3

tom taglist : @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08

people i think might be interestd in this (sorry if not just let me know and i'll remove the tag!!!): @obiwanownsmyass @wildxwidow @parkersvogue @coffeewithoutcaffeine @tomhollandlol @thefallenbibliophilequote @clumsymandu @hiraethenthusiast @mannien @abrielleholland @evermorehabit @niallberry @greatpizzascissorstaco @runawayolives @annathesillyfriend @letsgotothemoonlight @lovelybarnes

[subwaysurf45]

Love You to the Moon and Back

summary: Bucky notices you’re feeling down after a bad injury, he does his best to help.

words:  3817

warning: depressive episode, doctors, mainly fluff!

pairing: Bucky x Reader 

Masterlist!

Bucky could tell you were getting bad again. 

And it hurt him to see you like this but it always happened after a big mission, your job was traumatizing and it took a toll on all of you. Bucky knew he had his days but he also knew when you finally let yourself slip it was really bad. 

You were a very headstrong person, you didn’t like letting people see your weaknesses or just you being hurt in general. So it sucked when you had broken your shin and witnessed a school of kids get blown up by a bomb, maybe sucked is an understatement but it was what you always said. 

You had pretended to be a teacher because there was supposed to be a hit on most teachers at a private school, so when the school blew up before everyone was out of the building- including you -it left the memories very crystal clear. There was no way of saving everyone so you saved yourself, and the feeling of selfishness had never been more apparent than right now. You were lying in bed with a cast on your left leg, your left leg was on top of the duvet while the other leg was under. 

A tank top and shorts was all you wore even though you were cold. A pillow was placed between your legs down by your shins to keep the injured one elevated, Bucky had stuck it there the last time he came in to check on you. 

Speaking of Bucky, he walked into your shared room in the compound. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky cooed as he gently opened and closed the door without making any sound, you had become hyper-aware to sound and light so a loud noise or a flash of a camera could send you into a state of hysterics. Bucky sat himself at the edge of the bed at around your midsection, you were lying in the middle and facing him. You barely said hello, all you could muster was a groan that had the same rhythm as the word hello. “How’s my girl doing?” Bucky rubbed your thigh very carefully. 

It was so obviously a rhetorical question, you were absolutely shit and he knew it. You both just stared at each other and Bucky seemed to get the message, he nodded and looked down. The room was so dark from the lights being off and the curtains being pulled you barely registered that Bucky had a plate of cheese, apple slices, and crackers. Bucky saw you turn your nose up and he knew you would, you had been like this for what felt like weeks. 

“You have your two appointments today, you wanna use the crutches or the wheelchair?” Bucky asked as he gently caressed your thigh, a little hum came after a few sections to clarify this wasn’t rhetorical. 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled into your pillow. 

“Okay…” Bucky held onto the last syllable, he glanced over to the wheelchair and crutches. “How about you have a little snack and then when you got food- and I’ll get water -you can make your choice. You also know you can switch and I’ll be glad to grab it for you, alright?” he did a few quick pats on your thigh before setting the plate down on the bedside table, he grunted as he stood up and stuck his arms slowly beneath you. All Bucky did was sit you upright to eat, you had gotten better at eating and now didn’t need motivation to eat but just a little push at the beginning to keep going after the first bite. Bucky also found if he ate a few pieces from the plate you’d be more inclined to eat the rest. 

“Thanks,” your voice was low and barely audible. 

“No need, pretty lady,” Bucky got right beside you and grabbed the plate, he placed it between you and let you choose the first piece. “So, you’re at the doctor at two and then Doc at three-ten, do you wanna nap between for a little or for a while after?” he just took a cracker and plopped it into his mouth. 

“No, no nap between, I wanna sit outside Doc’s office like before to make sure I’m not late.” You mumbled and stacked a piece of cheese on an apple slice. Doc was your therapist that was assigned to you a little while before your injury, Bucky wasn’t the only one who got nightmares and manic episodes; you probably got them more. Bucky knew he couldn’t go into your therapy meeting, he could physically go in but it went against his morals, this was your time to be alone and completely vulnerable to a human that you only see one or twice a week, he didn’t want you to sugar coat anything just because he wa sitting there. 

Bucky nodded and hummed before pulling the notebook out of the bedside table’s drawer, your combat backpack which you used for everything between missions and a picnic in the park was curled over itself in the corner of your room. Bucky picked it up and headed back to bed to let it rest there as he packed. He did this when you weren’t injured, Bucky had sadly realized your memory was a little shot from the amount of bootleg brainwashing and head injuries. You’d constantly forget about appointments or missions, or even the date. 

“Baby, I told you, your birthday is today, that’s why I got flowers.” Bucky said and pointed to the counter with the bright flowers on it. 

“No…” you rubbed the front of your head. “My birthday isn’t today, I forget the day- but it’s not today, I swear.” 

He slid in your journal that you used to write down lists and memories, you had used a guitar pick as your bookmark even though you can’t play anymore. Sometimes when you’d show up to a therapy session you’d forget what you wanted to say, it hurt him when he’d walk you there and you’d be saying the list of things under your breath with your eyes closed. Nightmare, mom, picking my nails, ankle, nightmare, sand, flowers. 

“We gotta go soon, anyways, wanna get ready for the day?” Bucky softly asked, there was no nice way of telling your loved one they needed to shower. 

“Sure,” you looked down at the plate and grabbed the last of it before getting up, the apple and cheese was just curled in the palm of your hand, as you walked over you shoved it all into your mouth because you knew you had to shower and you didn’t like soggy cheese. 

“I’ll keep packing your bag, and I’ll fill a water bottle for you.” Bucky had been your human crutch as you walked to the bathroom, you had an itch down in your cast that was bugging you. 

Tony had wanted to add tech to the shower to help you stand because putting pressure on your left leg hurt after three minutes and seven seconds- not that you were timing to see how long you could go without collapsing. You had said no to tech and just asked for a bar, Bucky even thought it would be cool but it was all up to you. 

Bucky helped you slip out of your clothes before leaving you be, he knew he would have to check on you periodically because you were too stubborn to ask for help if you had fallen or couldn’t get in the shower. You gripped onto the metal bar and helped yourself slip in, you turned the water on right away. 

You liked warm, long showers. You just let the water hit your skin as you stood in front of the shower head, the water pressure was high so you let the bullets hit your face when your eyes were closed. Your hair got wet as you stood there, you reached for the bottle of shampoo and expected it to be where it always was. The was getting into your eyes and when you squinted to see where the bottle was everything was double, as you reached for the bottle you had actually reached for the fake double and knocked the bottle off the ledge. A loud thump rang through the bathroom and it sounded like a bomb. 

There was one second of silence before you heard scrambling from outside the bathroom door, all at once you could see the door swing open by its shadow through the curtain. The curtain was pulled back so hard a couple of ringlets holding it up were ripped off. 

“Baby?” Bucky yelled before he registered you were standing upright. “What?” he breathed heavily, he was completely expecting you to be passed out on the floor with a cracked skull. 

“Shampoo bottle,” you said meekly. 

“Oh, thank god…” Bucky sighed to himself as he reached down to pick it up. “Are you hurt at all, did you fall?” He placed the bottle back on the ledge which made him reach across your naked body, on his way back his hand touched your shoulder then went to cup your cheek and move your head to look at him. 

“I’m all good, babe.” You smiled, an exhausting smile. 

“Alright, back-is-packed, finish up and I'll help you over to physio, alright?” Bucky closed the curtain to give privacy but waited for a verbal answer. 

“Perfect, thank you.” You grabbed the bottle again, your heart ached for him to be in the shower with you, it was something you did all the time before you were injured. 

“Don’t thank me, pretty lady.” Bucky reached for the door and opened it, before he could walk out, your voice quietly called his name, he could barely hear it over the water in the shower. “Yes?” he replied with the same softness. 

“Stay here with me, please.” the ‘please’ came after a beat, and extra plea. 

“Always,” Bucky sat on the toilet seat and gave the company you needed as you tried to stick your finger down your cast to itch that one spot on your leg. 

*****

Soon enough you were sat in the physio room, Bucky was off to the side with paper work in his lap and a binder in your backpack he packed for you. You liked the moral support when you were here because you never really had the best experience with doctors, Bucky would act like he wasn’t even there. That was a good thing, he did need to be the hovering boyfriend all the time because that can get tiring for both parties. He’d look up and listen to the doctor near the end, Bucky would write down the exercises and when to do them so he could gently remind you later. 

“Alright, you’re gonna get a new cast next week,” the doctor smiled at you, when you didn’t pick up on the excitement the doctor’s smile faded. “That means three quarters done!” Bucky had looked up and smiled, even clapped a couple times. 

“Then I have to learn how to walk again,” that was an exaggeration but it didn’t feel like one. 

The doctor gave a knowing look, “why do I feel like you’re already walking without the crutches?” You didn’t say anything because it was true. 

Your leg was examined and x-rayed, Bucky held onto your necklace as you went in. Your mind faded in and out as the doctor spewed ‘doctor stuff’ at you, you just didn’t have the care to listen; but Bucky did. He’s the type of guy to take notes and research later. 

Bucky would look over and see you looking at the floor, not even paying attention. He knew he couldn't get mad at you, you both dealt with injury very similarly. But something about seeing you shut down entirely made his heart ache, he wanted to reach out and lift the corners of your lips up into a smile because they seemed like they were being weighed down, he couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and real smile. He hadn’t been going on mission to keep you company, but now he knew his most important mission.

He walked you over to your therapy session that was still in the building, your Doc would come to the Avenger tower. He’d walk you right to the door of some random debrief room and kiss you goodbye. Bucky would hold your shoulders and gently rub your arms to hype you up before going in, he gave his little speech and said the same thing after. 

“You know I love you, and I know it’s hard.” he’d then kiss your cheeks and forehead. “I’ll be right here when you’re done, don’t even sweat it, pretty lady.” He then wouldn’t leave until the door closed and he heard muffled voices. 

The tower was right in the heart of the city, everything he needed was right there and a walking distance away. He slipped on a long sleeve and his gloves, he knew you took the backpack but you also had reusable bags, he took a few and headed out into the summer heat, it wasn’t humid today which was great but it wasn’t cold either. The tote bag was slung over his shoulder, all that was in it right now as a list. 

flowers 

chocolate

card

stuffed animal 

To call Bucky a romantic would seem weird to someone who only knew of him from the news or a museum, you knew him as a total hopeless romantic. Even in the 40’s, Bucky was the type of person to keep their walls up until he really got to know and trust you. It would normally be one little thing that would allow him to truly be himself around someone, he let his guard down that day you were walking to the restaurant he made a reservation at, Bucky placed himself so that arm or hand you’d hold would be his right but when you caught on you walk around him and looped both arms around his left, metal arm. After that, he was goner. 

He’d leave little sticky notes everywhere, a blue square paper in the coffee mug that read: ‘make sure you only drink one cup!’ or another on your shampoo bottle: ‘you look great naked ;)’. Bucky knew the little things mattered to you and vice versa, he knew that grand gestures didn’t mean anything without a little kiss that came before. 

The flower shop smelt great, Bucky didn’t know much about plants but he knew which ones you’d like. He was thinking of putting one on each bedside so whenever you’re lying in bed- which was a lot -you could look at some pretty flowers. They were a nice shade of purple and the stems were not too long, Bucky bought them and put them gently in his tote bag before heading over two stores to the grocery store you always shop at.

He was envyus of your clean eating, you’d eat what you want but you’d shop at fermer’s markets and organic stores. Bucky didn’t know it made a difference. He went to the frozen section and found chocolate covered strawberries. Bucky picked up a little pack of eight and headed to the front. There were also flowers there but they didn’t look nearly as nice. All he wanted was a very simple cute card with a blank inside, they were easy to find. It was cream coloured with a little sketch of a fuzzy, brown teddy bear holding a yellow balloon. All it said in dainty cursive at the top was: “look at you go!” Bucky knew this was perfect. Near the cards were little toys and stuffed animals. He found a bear that looked eerily similar to the one on the card but without the balloon. 

As he walked into the Avenger’s tower the bag was full and he had enough time to spare to set things up. Bucky headed to the rooms and made the bed, he changed the sheets as well because he knew you liked them when they were crisp. The teddy sat right in the middle with the card next to it. Bucky had written a little note that covered the entire right side of the card. He got a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with ice, he also found that white wine you liked and stuck it on there with the strawberries just to keep them cool but not melted. 

Bucky glanced at his watch and felt almost giddy as he realized it was time to head over to the conference room, he had to work on not giving it away when he’d first see you with his wide smile. The walk to the room was quick because of how fast Bucky was walking, he turned the corners sharp and almost jogged down the hall down the meeting rooms. He only stood there for about three seconds before the door slowly opened, Doc had opened the door and helped you out. Bucky’s smile turned into complete worry when you walked out holding a tissue to your nose, your eyes were red and puffy. Bucky also noticed that your fingernails were red and bleeding, that was one habit you were currently trying to break. 

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked in quiet disbelief, his eyebrows almost touching. 

Doc gave a curt nod, “we talked about a lot of things,” her answers were always so vague. 

You sniffled and waited for Doc to leave down the hall, Bucky was still looking at you. His hands held your shoulders and gently massaged the answer out of you. 

“It was a good cry, I needed that.” you sighed from exhaustion. 

A little piece of Bucky’s heart broke, if you needed to have a good cry then you could have told him, he would’ve listened. Bucky started to go back and see where it went wrong, if he was too overbearing and if this whole afternoon he had planned was created at a very wrong time. He wanted to ask what he did wrong but what came out was different. “Well that’s good to hear, I know Doc is good at that- helping you out.” His words were true but something about the delivery made it seem uneasy. 

“I just-” you looked to the ceiling and hoped to find the words you needed written there. “I like flushing it all out to her because I won’t see her for a week and I don’t need to keep up with what I’m feeling. I always cry to you but Doc is just really good at explaining how I feel, you’re there to validate it and make me feel soothed.” You held his left hand as you both walked down the hallway. “I feel lighter, like, I feel better.”

“That’s always good, sweetheart,” Bucky made sure you were putting weight on him because you didn’t bring your crutches but you really should have. “I have a little treat for you,” He turned to face you when you both stood at his door, Bucky kept his hand on the door handle. “I know it’s been a rough few weeks but I hope you know I love you all the same, and all I see is my strong, beautiful girlfriend.” Bucky saw your confused face, as he opened the door to reveal a dim lit room with flowers, wine and a teddy your eye welled up with tears again. 

You gasped and put your hands on your chest, “for me?” your voice shook as you walked in, you peered into the ice bucket to see your favourite wine and some food as well as a card beside the ice bucket, under the teddy. Tears flowed down your face as the feeling of being overwhelmed washed over you, you could barely string a sentence together. A hand waved the gifts all away, “too much,” was all you could muster. 

“No, baby,” Bucky smiled, he walked over and pulled you into a hug. “Nothing will ever be too much for you.”

He let you cry in his chest for a very long time, you both ended up sitting on the edge of the bed as he stroked all the way up your back. His hand would bunch up your hair as he went up to your neck. His lips were right at your ear, all he whispered were sweet nothings and a calming ‘shh’ once and a while. When you had a little composure Bucky reached for the card, as you read it your lips trembled even more. A hand stayed glued to your heart as your body warmed at loving words, you could barely read it with blurry vision from the tears but it still seemed crystal clear. Your finger traced over the signature: ‘love you to the moon and back, Bucky’. And you crumbled again, your forehead hit his chest as you cried away all the pent up emotion you thought you flushed out at your therapy session. 

With all the crying you were so tired, Bucky had thrown on a movie you two could watch while enjoying your strawberries and wine. You only had two and half a cup before you were snoring on Bucky’s shoulder, he tried to nudge you a couple times but nothing worked at all. He watched the movie on his own and saved the last two strawberries for you in the morning. You didn’t even wake up at him getting up and leaving the room. When he came back he got you out of your day clothes and into something comfy. 

*****

You woke up to the sun hitting your back, when your eyes opened they focused on the flowers and a smile graced your face. It was the first time in a long time since you smiled with your eyes, a little giggle even slipped out. 

At that sound Bucky walked out of the bathroom, “well there she is,” he smiled wide. 

“What does that mean?” you wiped the drool from the side of your mouth, “I had a nap, a really good one, too.” You seemed to be bragging. 

“A nap? Baby, it’s eight.” Bucky raised his eyebrows. 

“Ya, I fell asleep at about five so I had a three hour nap, no biggie.” You rolled on your back and stretched out, your gaze moved back to Bucky when you heard a giggle, “what?” you laughed back. 

“Eight in the morning, the next day. Your three hour nap was actually a well deserved fifteen hour hibernation.” Bucky joined you on the bed. 

“That’s why I feel so good,” you sighed, you looked over to Bucky and swatted his chest at his little smirk. “Don’t think like that.” 

“I bet I can make you feel just as good-”

You cut him off with a kiss.

[mrpenguinpants]

Razor:  Jealous HCs

Hey anon!! As much frustration I hold for crippling oblivious couples, I also love the trope so much. Plus I adore Razor. Even though I try to not call Razor a dog, I still google “jealous dog traits”. Also, I found out both Hanniejji and I secretly HCs Bennet is friends with Razor and Fischl. If genshin won’t give me character interactions then I’ll write it myself.

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Semi Part 1: General HCs

Semi Part 2: Pre-Relationship HCs

Semi Part 3: Cuddle HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

 @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @nonniechan @htnicayh @genshins1mpact @morthecreator @ aanne2601 @hanniejji​

Razor:  Jealous HCs

Bennet and Fischl are both foaming at the mouth at how deeply in love you BOTH are and yet you’re both equally blind. Fischl wants to grab you by the shoulders and yell at you that Razor returns your feelings and you need to stop doing whatever it is you’re doing. A sad Razor looks like a kicked puppy and even she can’t handle it. But Razor absolutely refuses for anyone to confess for him because he believes that you might just genuinely be uninterested in him. Plus, it wouldn’t feel right if he couldn’t confess himself. It’s his first love, this is important to him.

Bennet thinks it’s really sweet that his friend is in love. Even if he does get a bit pouty that whenever he get’s hurt, Razor will ask if he’s alright and leave it at that. But if you accidently trip Razor is already at your side and fussing over you. Bennet uses this as physical proof that yes, your feelings are returned and this man is in love with you, but you always brush it off as Razor’s nature to be caring. He’s smiling patiently on the outside but on the inside he has his hands in his hair and he’s screaming.

God forbid anything upsets you. Razor hasn’t been around other humans long enough to pick up on most social cues but he does have a good sense of smell. If you’re happy then the wind smells like sweet flowers. If you’re upset then it smells like mint. While Razor usually keeps himself in check and is somewhat indifferent, the second he catches any signs of distress from you he’s on high alert. Until you tell him what’s been bothering you - a group of hilichurls stole your bag of snapdragon flowers - he’s going to be on guard and stressed out. He’s already throwing his claymore over his shoulder to go and fight the monsters that tried to upset you. Wow, what a good friend you say to Fischl. Fischl is ready to punt you off a cliff.  

Razor tries his best to show that he likes you by bringing the things you need and looking like such a proud pup. He looks at you with such hopeful eyes that it takes you a second to register what he’s asking before you feel your own heart rate speed up and pound into your ears. You flush pink before you move to embrace him and ruffle his hair as praise as he nuzzles into your shoulder affectionally. You assume his affectious actions are apart of his wolf nature and how they act so you try not to read too deep into things. Even if Razor seems a bit too happy to be hugging you and receiving pets. Or the fact he doesn’t let anyone else pet him...

Bennet tries his best to help his friend out by giving Razor some advice but considering Bennet himself hasn’t been in a relationship yet, it’s all practical. Telling Razor that he’s seen couples bring each other flowers as a sign of affection, maybe Razor could find some plants to bring you? It ends horribly when he offers you a wolfhook and you just stare at him. He says that these are his feelings towards you but you’re just...so confused?? Wolfhooks have thorns so does that mean he thinks you’re clingy? Isn’t that a bad thing? Are you annoying to him?? But wolfhooks also symbolize wolves so is he saying you’re like family to him??? You’re internally screaming while debating if you just got family-zoned or if Razor is trying to subtly tell you that he doesn’t like you.

Just because Razor is, somehow, unsure if you actually like him or not. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t get incredibly jealous and possessive at any unknown presence. He’s still a bit wary of the City due to all the conflicting smells and noises but he can’t help but look so sad when you have to run errands and you can’t visit him. But when you mention that a really nice knight gifted you a flower does Razor see red. He gave you a flower?? Shouldn’t you be happy with his? Why do you need another one when you have his? Is his gift not good enough? Is this your way of saying you’re interested in someone else? This poor boy is on the verge of either running off to go sulk or find the man that gave you this flower, which up until his knowledge - courtesy of Bennet - is a sign of courting, and absolutely destroy him to prove he’s the better partner.

He tries to keep it under wraps since he's been told that while in the City, he needs to exercise restrain and understand that if he enters. He's expected to at least respect the laws and people. But this poor wolf is so feral over this new development and this new smell that's been clinging onto you that whatever worries and isolation issues Razor felt about the city flies out the window as his protective instincts kick into overdrive. He sees other people and even pets as a rival for your attention and love. He just wants to scoop you up and growl at everything as a message to say “this is mine, go get your own”.

Even when the both of you are far away from the city, Razor’s continued mood seems to hang heavy over both your heads. You’re not sure what exactly caused Razor to be on high alert. He’s snapping and growling at everything little thing that comes close, even a butterfly!

You abruptly stop walking to Razor’s surprise as you whip around and frown at him. He can feel a chill run up his spine as he stands perfectly straight as you study him before you hold your palm out and looked at him expectantly. He looks at your hand with a small spark of perked attention before his nose twitches and he goes back to sulking. You’re still waiting for him as he shuffles a bit, his hair that resembled a wolf ear is twitching, before he whines and trots over and places his chin on your palm. He’s looking up at you with the most kicked puppy expression and you don’t even know what you did but you feel like the worse person in all of Teyvat.

“Razor...what’s gotten into you?” you ask gently as you rub circles into his cheek as he nuzzles into your palm. He seems really conflicted as his eyes dart away from your face and he almost looks guilty. He just whines and turns and buries his face into your warm palm. You’ve never really seen him like that before as you awkwardly try and comfort him. Until the same flower slips out of your pocket and you hear something primal growl out of Razor. His teeth are pulled back and he snarls at the flower as his pupils dilate. You quickly get between him and the poor flower before Razor tries to do anything.

“Seriously Razor, what’s gotten into you?” you asked concerned. He quickly shifts his attention to you as he pounces and knocks you over. You left off a soft noise as the wind get’s knocked out of you but you peep when his hands cage you from above. Razor’s red eyes bore into yours and you’re suddenly thinking the air is getting too hot. 

“Do you like Razor?” he asks, tilting his head in a cute pout. It makes you internally coo before you quickly snap out of it. Stay focused! 

“Of course I do! Remember we talked about this?” you say as you remember back to your previous interactions but this only seems to frustrate Razor more.

“No. Not that like. More...” Razor struggles with his words as he tries to piece together the right string of sounds to try and convey what he’s feeling. He seems so conflicted that it breaks your heart a bit. So you reach up and gently rub behind his ear as he closes his eyes and relaxes. He breathes in deeply as his eyes open and his pupils return to normal, but vastly determined.

“Together. Always. Just...us,” Razor says softly as he looks at you hopefully. There’s a small pink dust to his cheeks as his fang digs into his lip in nervousness. You’re not sure why but your heart absolutely sky rockets at it and you can feel your face flush pink.

“Um, yes?” you nod along, you think you’re understanding what he’s trying to say. Maybe he was just upset you were spending so much time in the City and away from him that he felt your friendship was neglected? That would make you really upset. But the way he phrases his words makes you believe that perhaps...

Before you can think more on it. Razor’s face breaks into a grin that nearly blinds you from the pure affection that sprouts from it. He’s already hugging you harder as he starts rubbing his nose and cheek against your neck. Making soft and happy sounds as he nuzzles you. He’s never done that before but you assume he’s just so happy. You breath a sigh of relief that it appears that your message to him was clear enough.

Yeah of course, friends always, you think

Lupical. Partner. Mate, Razor thinks.

---

whistling as I pretend I don’t see your stares. Yeah ik but it’s ok. This is a sorta semi series. We’ll build upon it. But Xiao content is next lol. I’m taking inspiration from this. I mean, when I don’t feel like shit 😷

I’ve been listening to [  Softy - Dear Moon ]. This isn’t the usual kind of music I listen to but it came on shuffle and this is now my mental breakdown song.

Quick edit: Turns out this is an ost from “My Mister”. I’ve never been into kdramas (I think I’ve only seen goblin, she was pretty, and Hwarang) but the cover picture looks so upsetting? My friend is really into tgcf and I believe that had a live action as well. 

[blogevaawrites]

Keeping to the schedule

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, sad, marriage, divorce, smut

Summary: After seven years of being married, two daughters and a difficult divorce, they try to understand what went wrong and why they let that happen.

Part I   Part II

I tried to process the whole information he was sharing and for the first time I believed I made a mistake. I saw it then, why he has been incredibly mad at me.

Sure, at first our separation was hard, but now he was looking happy, at least that’s what he shows me. I also was well, I still loved him but deep in my heart I thought it was the best for both of us. Now everything seems so wrong.

“There was another way. You could have told me everything, we could have dealt with all of that. You let this happen to us.” I said, full of resentment. His face was different then, he came here full of concern and then all what I was seeing was frustration.  

“What are you talking about? You filed for divorce. You decided unilaterally when we were done. You ran away from our marriage at first obstacle. This is not my fucking blame.” His words were like a knife in my skin. I never took it like that. All what I could see was his unhappiness and coldness, in my heart I was doing the right thing.

Tears fell down through my cheeks uncontrollably, our seven years together seemed thrown away. I could feel him moving around the room, he was trying to calm down himself.

“I thought you were being distant because you blamed me for the infection, and then when anything seemed to change, I thought you weren’t happy and that you didn’t know how to leave me.” I said after I got my shit together. I saw him shaking his head, I wasn't sure if he wasn’t satisfied with my words or if he was answering the accusation.

He didn’t response right away, he took a few minutes to breathe loudly.

“I felt ashamed of being the one who needed help after what you went through.” He said without looking at me, he was staring the wall behind me. “I could have never ever blamed you for something like that.” He finished. His hand went to caress my face before pulling me to his embrace.

“I’m sorry” I babbled between tears.

I let myself cry my eyes out in his arms. I felt like I threw out our life because I couldn’t put aside my anger to talk our problems out , like I put my daughters through all of that because I got mad at my husband. I knew he wasn't innocent at all but guiltiness took over my whole body and couldn’t shake it off.

His hands ran all over my back and the back of my neck; the feeling of security invaded my body and the need of get out of my own thoughts grew.

He was so close to me that I couldn’t help kissing him.

His hands didn’t take long before holding my face closer to him, in the perfect position to let our tongues connect with each other.

Needing for air we broke the kiss but not for long, he kissed me again letting his hand go to hold me up from my butt. I just could follow his actions; I didn’t want to do anything else. He took me to our bedroom quickly, he sat at the edge of the bed making me straddle him.

Without leaving my mouth, he moved the strips of my shirt away from my shoulders, leaving my breast on full display for him. His hands played with my nipples before taking them in his mouth. I just could moan, moving my hips to find some friction against his bulge. He showed me his excitement pushing my hips even closer to him.

“I love you so much” he mumbled against my collarbone. His words made my noxious thoughts hunt my mind, I knew he loves me, I loved him too; it wasn’t the first time he said it after our divorce, but it was wrong now. I stood up quickly, he looked at me confused while I tried to put my shirt on again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked extending his arm to reach me.

“Who am I now? Your sidechick. Isn’t works in the other way? From a sidechick to a wife?” I said with a sardonic laugh, rubbing my eyes, trying to concentrate again.

He laughed, laying down on the bed. I looked at him completely horrified by his reaction. He took his phone from his jeans and scrolled around it for a few seconds before handing it to me.

It was a kind of a contract, an agreement to release seven pictures along with a misleading and suggestive headline.

“Meghan asked me because her team want her to be related to a certain kind of people.” He explained, I knew that this is part of his job, and he was used to it before we got together.

“It’s a pap walk.” I said understanding what he meant, I wasn’t familiar to it because he hadn’t done one since we met.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to tell you when I came the last time.” He took my hand to bring me closer to him while he continued explaining “I shouldn’t have agreed to it, but I realized of it too late and I wanted to talk to you before the pictures got release. I didn’t want you to feel disappointed or mad and don’t worry! I already asked her and Meghan to shut down any rumor.” He guided my legs to straddle him again. “I tried to bail out of it after what happened between us, but I just couldn’t.”

“Okay.” I felt relieved. I wasn’t ready to see him with someone else, and thank God, he said he wasn’t ready to date again.

“Let’s just put you to sleep, okay?” He said caressing my head and taking my hair away from my face. He saw my face and quickly he explained to me his change of mind.

“The girls are with Scott, but he has a flight to catch in a couple hours. I need to pick them up. Okay?” he said forcing me to look at him. “Hey! Listen to me I will call you as soon as they fall sleep, will that be okay?” he asked again.  

I nodded, getting up. I thought he was going to leave right away but he did not. He uncovered the bed for me to get in and laid next to me for a few minutes.

“You will always be the one. I promise.” He slurred against my temple, after kissing it.

He left the room without waiting for an answer, he must have thought I was sleeping because he tried not to make many noises.

After a few hours, my phone rang, and I didn’t wait a second to respond.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to be up.” he said. I could hear him closing a door. I haven’t been in his new house, but I know his style very well, enough at least, to imagine it.

“I’m a light sleeper.”

“I know.” He let go a sad laugh. “I wanted to call you early, but Anna was interrogating my ass about my quick trip of tonight.” he said cooling off the environment.  

“Oh! Yeah! She can be very tough, it’s probably a phase.” I said with a smile, remembering the last time I had a quick conversation with our neighbor, and she thought I was dating him.

“Yeah! I guess, but I think we should check on her, maybe she’s experiencing anxiety because of the changes or something like that. I’ve been reading about kids with divorced parents can suffers these kinds of things.” I knew he was just worried about them; I was too, but right then I felt guilty, I felt like I did this to them.

“Okay” I murmured.

I was excited about his call, I wanted to figure it out what we could do to save this, but maybe it was too late. We held on everything for so long, and now it’s probably just too late.

“What do you want to do?” he asked calmly, completely away from my thoughts.

“I don’t know.”

“Tomorrow my sister is going to the lake house. She wanted me to take the girls, but I could let them go with her and we could hang out. I don’t know, we could have a kind of a date and talk, we could try to sort this out.”  

“Okay.”

“Is everything alright?” I knew he was asking because of my monosyllabic answers.

“Yes, I’m just kind of sleepy.” I didn’t want to talk anymore.

“Okay.” his voice sounded disappointed now. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

“I love you” he said after a few seconds quiet.

I didn’t know what I was supposed to say, I loved him, but it felt like I was accepting everything, it felt like I was saying “yes, I broke us, our family”.

“Me too”  

I couldn’t say much else. I said bye and hung up.

He picked me up at 7:00 p.m, he told he wanted to spend the day with the girls because they wanted to spend the night over there with their cousins. We decided to just have a dinner at his house in order to have more privacy and also, we could be in a kind of neutral environment since he doesn’t feel it like home, and I don’t even know the house.

“You want a tour?” he asked as soon as we got in the house. I nodded and followed him through the house. I wasn’t wrong about this style, the house it was almost a copy of ours, and it felt weird.

“It’s very similar to ours, isn’t?” I said softly, I wasn’t sure how he was going to take it.

“Yeah, I know, Scott said the same thing, but I don’t know, I’m living here, and this has to be home now.” He said and all at once I felt the guiltiness coming back to my body, it was like I kicked him out of his home.

“We have your favorite for dinner” he said completely unaware of my harmful thoughts.

“Great.” I didn’t want to spoil any possible progress.

He took my hand guiding me to the dinning room. We had a nice dinner, just talking about our past, when we met, when I got pregnant with Anna, when we took her to Disney for the first time… we had a happy life.

We talked about everything, but we didn’t talk about why we let this happened to us. It was like we weren’t seeing the big fat elephant in the room. After the dinner he took me outside to have the dessert in front the fireplace.

“Are you okay?” he asked worried, I wasn’t being very talkative, and he knows me well enough to let it pass.

“Yes.” I said taking a spoon of mousse.

He took my dessert from my hands.

“You sure?” he asked, forcing me to look at him by my chin. I just could nod; I didn’t know what else to do.

He took my chin to his head, kissing me deeply. He got his body closer to mine and his hand went to hip and the other one didn’t leave the back of my neck. I kept to his leading until I felt his hand get under my dress, touching my naked thigh. I pushed him away from me softly. I stood up and rubbed my face trying to find the right words.

“This is not my fault.” I dopped. He smiled in confusion.

“Well, I guess it’s not, I started to kiss you, but…” he started to say.

“I didn’t break us. I may have been the one who made it official, but you decided not to tell me what was going on.” As I said that his eyes went dark. I knew he was ready to fight back, I have seen those eyes too many times.

“It wasn’t exactly an easy journey, I couldn’t…” he was accepting that he blamed me. His voice also changed; it wasn’t the same voice he used to used when we were married. This one was ironic, rough, and mean, the one he use since we were divorced.

“Mine wasn’t easy either! It wasn’t just a rough patch for me, Chris. I felt you were abandoning me, and you knew what I was feeling.”  My eyes were getting wet, and I tried to do everything not to cry.

“How I could have known that?” he sounded irritated, not just because he was talking louder but he also because his head was resting in his hands.

“Because I told you, Chris! I asked you to come back home million of times, and you rather take our daughters to the other side of the world than come back home with your wife.” I said, recalling the last time I asked him when he was going to be back. He didn’t answer, instead of that he set a whole plan. He made Scott flight to Boston to pick up the girls and then take them to Japan where he was filming his fifth film of the year.  

“I was working…” He said with a different voice.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” The air got cooler; we weren’t yelling anymore. He wasn’t looking at me when I started to walk out.

“I don’t think we can do this.” I said, ready to leave.

“We have to try it.” He caught my attention.

“Emma and Anna will be alright; they are fine now.” I’ve always thought that keeping kids in a unhappy marriage it’s way more dangerous that have a civilized divorce. I knew he was worried about them, but it wasn’t right.  

“Not because of them, because I love you and I know you love me too.” He was right.

“Maybe it’s not enough anymore.”

“Yes, it is! It has to be! I don’t want to be alone the rest of my life and if it’s not with you I will be, don’t you see it? It’s been almost a year and I still thinking of you as my wife.” He stood up to get closer to me.

It broke my heart that he was right. I can’t imagine myself with another man, and it could be just a matter of time, but I honestly didn’t think so.

“How could this work? We’re going to end hating each other.” I said verbalizing one of my biggest fears.

“We won’t. I promise.” He said pulling my body to his arms.

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