#schlatt comfort
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fanficfox · 2 days ago
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i feel like shit i need schlatt to comfort me please fluff smut something
maybe pretty please male reader
awe i’m sorry you’re having a hard time. here’s a little blurb to cheer you up :)
Bad Days Aren’t Forever
(gn!reader x schlatt, just some fluff, a little bad day angst)
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You were having a bad day, and it felt like the world was ending. you’ve tried everything you can think of to pick yourself up again but nothing is working, you’ve accepted today is just gonna be a bad day. and that’s ok. but it really sucks in the meantime. but luckily your boyfriend schlatt is there to comfort you and make you feel better as much as possible. you’re laying on the bed, in his arms as he slowly rubs soothing circles on your back. he will occasionally drop little kisses on your forehead or cheek and just study your expression for a moment. sometimes you might think about your situation a little too hard and it will start to get you a little worked up again. a couple tears would fall and schlatt would hear some sniffles. he immediately looks down at you and kisses your head again. “it’s ok sweetheart, just get it out” schlatt’s tone is gentle and reassuring. you being to cry harder because you feel a wave of relief was over, you don’t have to put up a mask anymore. you can let yourself fall apart in his arms and schlatt will try his best to hold you together. your arms get tighter around him holding him closer. he rest his head ontop of yours, his big warm body envelopes you whole. neither you are schlatt speak to much. the only noises that fills the room is you’re breathing/sobs and schlatt’s shushes every now and then. schlatt decides to break the silence. “i know today is hard baby. but you’ll get through it, just like you do. bad days aren’t forever…and you’ll be ok very soon” you don’t say anything. you just nod and bury your face in his chest. you don’t need to say anything to show schlatt you understand, he knows you do. soon enough the tears run out and headache subsides enough that you can fall asleep peacefully. both Jambo and [REDACTED] jump up on the bed and cuddle up around you and schlatt. sensing you could use some furry companions. you give them each a weak but loving pet and that’s good enough for them. soon enough when the cats are settled in, you all start to drift off. you, schlatt and the cats all lay in this big comfortable bed as you let the sadness fade and surrender to the peace you feel when you sleep. epically in schlatt’s arms.
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jamiehe4rtsmen · 13 days ago
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⁷ said their favorite song was pink + white but they're black & blue
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light themes of abuse! ୨ৎ
it all started with an order for sunnyside up eggs.
schlatt was filming yet another video from a bougie, expensive-ass hotel, showing off the freakin' bidet they had in the bathroom and the robe that felt like it was sewed from a thousand sheep.
but of course, the best part of hotels was the room service! schlatt skimmed through the menu before deciding on a cup'a joe and his choice of eggs, eventually deciding on sunnyside up. so he picked up the hotel room and pressed 3 (which was the button for room service), and waited for someone to pick up.
"room service here! how may i help you?" a cute little voice sang, filling schlatt's ears with a comforting aura he couldn't place.
"uh, hello ma'am." he coughed awkwardly, and all of a sudden his palms felt sweaty. he aggressively wiped his hands on his black t-shirt, letting out a grumble. "could i please have a coffee and... hm, sunnyside up eggs please?"
"of course sir! i'm so sorry, but that may take about ten minutes. is that okay?"
he blinked, bewildered. most room service at other hotels took like thirty minutes, and they practically threw the plate at your face. he could wait ten minutes for his food, he wasn't a douchebag fatass. "yeah— yeah, of course. take all the time you need."
he could hear the person on the other line hum happily. "alrighty then! we'll see you soon. please enjoy your stay!"
"uh-huh." he grinned to himself like an idiot, sounding like a big dumb oaf. "i will."
ten minutes later? the doorbell to his room rang. a cute little knock, one, two, three! echoed throughout the room. "room service!" the same voice from over the phone chirps.
schlatt, admittedly, runs to the door, panting a little as he swings it open. in the doorway is a pretty girl in a button up shirt and skirt, beaming as she holds two trays. "hi mister schlatt!"
"hello. uhm," he glances down to see your nametag, stumbling out your name politely. "you can put that down right there." he points to the coffee table across from the couch adjacent to the bed.
happily, you oblige, putting it right where he said. he expected a plain mug and one sunnyside up egg, but you'd brought a whole tray of coffee, with creamer and sugar— everything you would need. like coffee heaven. and then, under that metal lid was not only eggs, but sausage and a choice of water, orange juice or milk. woah.
schlatt's eyes widened. "am i gonna get paid extra for all'at?"
you chuckle, shaking your head politely. "nope! i just thought some extra food couldn't hurt." you smiled up at him, and he felt his shoulders relax, teeth unclench and his breath steady. you were cute. and the service was actually pretty great here.
(he talked to ted later, who was living in the room across from him, and he got less of an array than schlatt did, but he still got a hefty increase from what he asked for. schlatt smirked to himself once ted told him this— it just proved that he was your favorite.)
after chatting with ted for a few hours and filming a few clips around the two rooms, he made his way to the lobby to thank you, maybe slip you a few tenners (hey, the service was good! and you were cute).
he found you, tucked in a hallway near the receptionist's desk. next to you was a guy who towered over you— not an accomplishment, you were pretty small— but the man seemed imposing. you were absentmindedly eating a protein bar while he spoke, and he plucked it out of your hands.
he cooed patronizingly, "you don't need to be eating all of that, do ya, baby?"
schlatt felt his eye twitch and fists clench. who the actual fuck did this guy think he was? based off the 'baby' suffix, he assumed this dick was your boyfriend. what kind of boyfriend said that to their girlfriend? a bad one, obviously, but still— the fuck?
"...yeah." you mumbled, looking a little ashamed. the man lit up, patting your back and then wrapping a hand around your shoulder. you were about to reach the bar to your lips again, but then your boyfriend's hand tightened around the edge of your neck.
his hand squeezed right at the crook of your neck and shoulder, way tighter than necessary as he barked, "throw that shit out."
your face paling, you immediately chucked the protein bar into the trashcan, eliciting a happy hum from your boyfriend. he promptly kissed the top of your head, patting your ass and walking off. douche.
something tugged at schlatt, but he wasn't sure what. he could tell, obviously, that your boyfriend sucked, but it seemed like there was more to it than that— he placed it when he saw your face blanch when your boyfriend squeezed your neck. he could see a faint mark start to form, but your pale skin basically covered up the blush colored mark from your boyfriend's big hand.
and, for better or for worse, he didn't want to pry in your personal life. for all he knew, your boyfriend was having a bad day or something. it was hard for him to justify it, but it wasn't his business; he needed to know more.
he walks up to you, smiling as he gently murmurs, "hey, thank you. for the extra stuff with my coffee."
you blink up at him, looking frazzled. "oh! it's no problem. don't worry 'bout it."
"nah, you went out of your way to do that for me. i appreciate it." he smiles, running a hand through his hair.
smiling, you giggle. "anytime, mister schlatt."
"jay," he corrects, his voice soft and baritone.
"jay," you echo. "nice to meet you."
୨ৎ
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divider credits @cafekitsune
dead dove do not eat divider credit @burdenandacrop
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yumiis · 1 year ago
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。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚。 DATING THEM ; SCHLATT
 ゚・。・゚
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genre; fluff/comfort
type; headcanons
read below!
I like to think Schlatt jokingly likes PDA. If you guys are around close friends, he'll smack your back end or roughly give you a shoulder massage, just to say "this one's mine", y'know?
If he's drunk however, his love language is suddenly touch x10. He's all over you, hugging you from behind, touching your hair, kissing your forehead and neck, anything you could think of.
He also likes gift giving, but he does it really subtly. If he sees you looking at something for a little bit too long, he'll go back to the store when you're not with him and buy whatever you were looking at.
I like to think most of you guys' quality time together is when he needs someone to help him clean, or vise versa.
When you guys are done cleaning, it turns into a fight with the mops. One time, he accidentally hit you across the head with the mop handle, and he felt horrible. Don't worry, he kissed it all better.
He loves when you show him your music. He has a private collaborative playlist on spotify with just you two. He calls it "THE relationship". You told him that was a silly name for the playlist, but here you are, months later, with that still being the title.
Absolute BED HOGGER. You two will fall asleep spooning, but the way you wake up is NOT how you fell asleep. There was one time you actually woke up half way on the floor. He is also a blanket hogger, which has lead to you both having separate blankets.
Claims he is not a blanket or bed hog, but you have a lot of photo evidence showing otherwise. "I do NOT hog— Okay well.. That was ONE TIME." You show him the album you have called "Jay being a hog". "Okay maybe.. Maybe I am a hog."
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breadly-art · 8 months ago
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Little sketch of Big Guy🐏
When he grins like that, it drives me crazy.
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dogstarbytes · 8 months ago
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promise me you'll never leave
pairing: jschlatt x gender neutral reader
pronouns used: they/them
summary: you comfort schlatt after he has a nightmare
trigger warnings: fear of abandonment, angst, hurt/comfort, nightmares
w.c: 604
schlatt wasn't a stranger to having nightmares; he had them often. they weren't vivid or complex or scary, even, just weird. tonight was different, though. his mind wasn't in the best place that day, it was restless and loud. anxious.
he tossed and turned, soft groans leaving his lips as he dreamed. he could see you; your face was clear as the morning sky. beautiful. he smiled, reached out to caress your cheek. you smiled back with a hum. you traded i love you's with each other; he promised he'd never forget you. you didn't say anything.
then, you started to fade. his smile dropped. 'no, no.. please, god, no..'
his mind became a whirlwind—where did you go? why did you leave? 'please come back...'
"j." your voice started ringing in his head, a soft, almost angelic tone.
"j," you breathed against the shell of his ear, shaking him from his nightmare. your arm was snaked around his waist protectively. "i'm right here, baby. i'm right here."
his eyes peeled open slowly, adjusting to the faint light shining through the curtains. his hand found yours; he squeezed. you're here. you're right here. you're not gone.
he shifted, twisting his body so he's facing you. he reached out, his thumb grazing against your cheek before cupping it. he can feel you; you're here. you're still here.
"sweetheart.." he let out a shaky breath before wrapping his large arm around your waist, pulling you against him in a tight, protective embrace. "fuck..."
"i know. i know, big guy," you whispered, rubbing soothing circles into his side. "i'm right here. i got you."
he breathed you in, his fingers gripping you so tight he was scared he'd bruise you; he knew you didn't care about that, though.
"it was a dream?" he asked, his voice shaky. you nodded.
"just a dream, baby," you reassured, pressing your lips to his temple. "just a dream."
he let out an heavy, uneven sigh of relief. but, despite your reassurance, he was still scared. he didn't want to forget you, to lose every memory he's made with you. to lose you.
"please never leave me," he whispered, his arm tightening its hold around your waist, the thought of if he let go of you, you'd fade away. leave. forever. "please."
you nodded, pressing another kiss against his temple. "i'm not going anywhere, baby."
"promise me."
you brought a palm to cup his chin, tilting his head to look at you. "i promise, j. cross my heart."
he nodded slightly, his eyes flicking all over your face, as if memorizing every tiny detail, every insignificant feature, burning them to his memory. you let him.
he swallowed around the lump in his throat, letting out a shaky breath. "thank you."
you smiled softly, stroking his cheek gently, soothingly, reassuring that he wasn't dreaming anymore. "always, j."
he pulled you against him, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
you're still here. you're not gone. he hasn't forgotten you. you haven't left. you're still in his arms, in his bed—your bed—against his chest. holding each other like your lives depended on it; in a way, that wasn't so far off from the truth.
"i love you, j." you whispered against his cheek, your arms around his waist like a lifeline.
"i love you more, sweetheart," he breathed, pressing a gentle kiss against the bare skin of your shoulder. "more than i can say."
schlatt didn't like having nightmares; they brought his worst fears to the forefront of his mind. but he could tolerate them just a little more when he has you.
———
a/n: hi !! so- first schlatt oneshot , hope you all enjoyed :3 i reallyyyy wanna write for him again (and ted) so pleaseeeeee feel free to leave me some requests in my ask ;3
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1nsum · 6 months ago
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THIS IS NOT A DRILL TED NIVISON JUST POSTED!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️
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hufflepuffsthunderdome · 28 days ago
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Shut Down
Jschlatt x trans masc!reader Summary: Reader feels insecure about his top surgery scars and turns down Schlatt's advances. Anxieties boil over when both are convinced their boyfriend doesn't want them. Warnings: Body image issues, OCD behaviour, self harm/self injury behaviour, skin scratching/picking, body dysmorphia, anxiety, bad communication, fluffy ending A/N: Based on this request by @gavin-isstupid 🫶 I usually don't write and have never written a trans or male reader, given I'm a cis girl, so feedback is very much welcome
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His soft, delicate lips leave yours, a breathy laugh hitting your face when his hand comes up to gently swipe the string of spit connecting you. You smile up at him as your eyes flutter open, trailing a delicate hand through his hair as you watch his eyes dart lovingly across your face. "Love you," he murmurs softly as his grip on your upper waist tightens slightly, humming happily when he feels your fingers card through his hair.
You whisper back into the dark room, soft orange glow of the lamp illuminating your boyfriend's features, "I love you too."
Your lips collide again, gentle as you hold each other close, his arms snaking around your frame, yours pulling him closer by his shoulders as you melt against each other. His soft lips drift, breaking away from yours to pepper kisses across your jaw, down your neck, his hold on you tightening when you squirm beneath him. He keeps his lips soft and gentle against your skin, warmth filling his stomach as he fails to fight another breathy chuckle.
His lips trail down, lower, soft and gentle, down your neck, down to your collarbone, gently pulling the collar of your shirt down to reveal more skin to him. You force yourself to stay present, tilting your head back up to the ceiling as you breathe deeply, focusing on the soft warmth of his lips on your skin and trying to ignore their location.
You feel the cool air hit your stomach as your shirt slides up your body, large hands following as the rough pads of Schlatt's fingers explore your skin. You feel the goosebumps that raise on your skin, feeling the dread that settles in below it more, deep in your bones.
He sits up surprised when he feels you scramble under him, furrowed eyes watching you as you wiggle free from his grasp. He lets go of his grip on you, placing his hands limply at his sides as he watches you flop off the bed and dart for the bathroom, "where you going handsome?"
You hear his calls of surprise but don't reply, taking in cool air through your nose as you try to suppress the bile that builds in the back of your throat, your skin burning violently where his hands were. "I'll be back," you manage to force out, shutting the bathroom door behind you as you collapse back against it, covering your face with your hands as you silently scream into them.
Your shirt hangs loose on your shoulders, swallowing you as the fabric seems to grow heavier and heavier, as you become more away of the feeling of it against your skin. You rip it over your head, breath faltering as you throw it across the room and have to come face to face with your bare skin, blunt nails scratching at it as you fight against your feet that walk you over to the mirror.
Your eyes immediately catch on the raised skin under your pecs, wide and long, stretching along to the sides of your body. Your skin feels hot as you stare at them, willing them to vanish before your eyes if you stare hard enough. The more you look the more they pop out, harsh against your skin as your nails again scratch anxious marks against your chest. Maybe if you scratch hard enough your skin will morph to your will, if you press hard enough your firm hands will shape your body the way you want it. Make you broader, flatter, squarer.
The heat of the shower drenches your body as you clasp your hands aggressively together in front of you, forcing yourself to keep them accounted for so they don't start scratching and prodding at your skin again. You force yourself to stay under the hot water, not even washing yourself, just letting the water rinse you, the heat on your skin blossoming to match the anxious heat burning under it's surface.
You look down with a shaky sigh, watching as the hot water turns your chest a red colour, the scars blending in slightly. You let yourself breath out in relief as for a fleeting moment you're able to forget about the lines on your chest you hate so much.
You don't talk about last night the next morning, Schlatt doesn't seemed fazed by it and you'd rather die than bring it up, so you let it rest, going about your day as normal. Until again, it happens in the kitchen at lunch time, the car that evening, the following day on the couch. His lips seek yours out, like a moth to a flame, anytime he sees the opportunity arise, and every time you slink away from him at the first feeling of his firm hands on your bare skin. Escaping from under him and shying away to the bathroom where you can scrub the anxiety off your body.
Until eventually he stops.
He's fairly persistent. He never pressures you into anything, he just lets you out from under him every time you get uncomfortable and doesn't bring it up again. But he is persistent. He doesn't let it faze him for a long while, each rejection, each de-escalation, just seems to fuel him further the next time he lays you down gently in bed and attaches himself to you wherever you'll let him. Until it slowly stops. Kisses become chaste, touches become friendly, the urgency and need vanishing in his touch. He can only handle so much.
He hadn't been doing it intentionally, he hadn't meant to retreat into himself around you, it just seemed to become the norm when he knew what the outcome would be otherwise. He'd release his hold on you and watch you walk off into the bathroom, left to stew in his own anxiety when he'd hear the shower turn on. He didn't wanna push you, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you at all, but this is what boyfriends were meant to do? Love each other like this?
You just mustn't want him.
He couldn't seem to shake that thought loose from his brain, feeling it bounce around violently each time he'd watch you retreat from him. He was trying hard to not let it get to him, not let it effect the way he was around you, but now, every lingering touch or gentle kiss you'd try to return just felt forced. He tried harder for a while, convinced he just wasn't serving you in the way you wanted, he just hadn't figured out yet what made you melt. But each time he'd hear your breath hitch he'd hope he was doing something right, instead watching your face morph with anxiety as you ran away.
He felt like a monster, overwhelming you with affection until you had no choice but to return it until it clearly got too much for you. It made him feel sick, thinking that you were putting on this façade for him, to dull the pain that was bound to rip him apart when you told him you didn't find him attractive, that you just didn't want him. He just couldn't bare it.
So instead, you settled into your new routine. Visiting each other after work, sitting on opposite sides of the couch and watching a movie in silence. Going out on the weekend and getting lunch, chatting casually as you walked around, hands stuffed in your pockets to prevent you from holding hands. Taking separate cars when you'd go see friends, arriving and leaving alone just like everyone else. Both of you destroying yourselves from the inside out with your anxieties.
You both missed each other desperately. A milion miles apart in the same room.
It had been a particularly bad day at work, one of those days where nothing seemed to go right. It seemed like every atom in the universe was telling you to pack it in and go home, traffic, customers, managers, even the way your clothes fit, it was all just wrong. It left you completely exhausted.
You trudge up the stairs to Schlatt's apartment, shutting and locking the door behind you with a content sigh when you kick your boots off. "Hey Jay," you call to your boyfriend, watching him pause his game and turn you with a wide smile as he stands.
"Who's this handsome man huh?" he says with a goofy smile as he opens his arms for you to collapse into, planting a kiss on your head as he placing his hands loosely on your biceps, "breaking into my house?"
You pinch his side playfully as you laugh into his chest, trying to shake off the way you feel him stiffen slightly under you, hands awkwardly on your arms. You focus on just enjoying the feeling of him against you, "work was hell, I just wanted to see you."
He hums softly against your head as he guides you over to the couch, removing his arms from you as he settles you down on it, sitting down with about a person's length in between. He goes to speak, but the words die in his throat when he feels the couch shift as you flop over, your head resting on his lap as you lie down.
"You wanna watch a movie?" he says nervously, hiding the shake of his voice through his thick accent as he gently lifts your head and pushes you to sit up again, reaching for the remote. He can feel your shocked stare on the side of his head as he sits back, crossing one leg over the other in an attempt to guard himself from your touch.
You just stare. Watching as your boyfriend so casually shrugs you off, like he doesn't care about how exhausted you are, how badly you just want him to hold you. Did he really find it that impossible to even pretend to want to touch you?
"Y/N?" he asks when he doesn't get a response, keeping his eyes locked on the TV.
That's when it starts, the trickle of tears that turns to a flood as you push off the couch and stumble to the bathroom. You can hear him calling your name behind you, but they fall on deaf ears as you stumble blindly to the bathroom, tears clouding your vision.
The second the door shuts behind you you're ripping off your clothes, throwing them away as if the fabric itself is burning you. You ignore the knock on the door, breath stuttering as Schlatt calls your name on the other side as you drown it out with the sound of the shower.
He waits patiently for you to answer, concern washing over him as he hears you sobbing inside the bathroom. He keeps knocking, even when he hears the sound of the shower start, wanting desperately to know what's going on.
He lets you have your space for a while, standing guard at the door, heart heavy with anxiety. When he hears your cries turn to all out sobs of pain he can't take it, pushing the door open. "Y/N?" he asks gently, blinking through the cloud of hot steam that's filling the bathroom, "Y/N what's wrong?"
He watches you ignore him, hands aggressively scrubbing your bare body as the water falls around you. He watches as your skin turns an angry red as you scrub it, heart aching as he sees you sob out in pain. Without a second thought he steps into the shower alongside you, still fully clothed, pulling you tightly against him and holding your palms in his as he rocks you.
"You're ok," he coos softly into your hair, turning the temperature of the water down slightly so it's not burning your skin, "you're ok I promise, I've got you."
He stands there and sways with you for a long while, warming your skin with his body instead of the nearly boiling water from the shower, whispering soft words into your hair as he attempts to sooth you.
Your nails dig into your palms as you fight the urge to keep scrubbing at your skin, focusing on the feeling of Schlatt behind you and trying to ignore the need to morph your body to your desire, the fear of being seen like this. He calms you down eventually, moving your exhausted body out of the shower and wrapping you in a towel, helping you slip on some new clothes, doing the same to his own, when you make your way to the bedroom.
His eyes stay locked on the aggressive scratch marks and prints from your fingers along the skin he can see, stomach dropping at the visual sight of your struggles he had no idea about, "do wanna talk about it?"
"I'm sorry I look like this," you blurt out as soon as the question leaves his lips, feeling the barrier of your anxiety break as he opens the floor to let you talk, "I'm sorry I don't look like how I should and that you don't want me, I wish it wasn't like this but I tried to change it and now I have these scars that won't go away and there's nothing I can do about it," you heave out, eyes staying locked on his as he stares at you in surprise. He lets you speak, letting you spout all your anxious thoughts as he listens and tries to take in everything he can.
"That's what you're worried about?" he asks gently when you stop, watching you struggle for a second to catch your breath, "your body?"
You just nod silently as you stare down at the floor embarrassed.
"Your body doesn't make you a man," he reminds you as he reaches out gently to lay his hand on the side of your neck, reading you like a book, "it doesn't make you any less of an incredible friend and brother... and boyfriend."
"I don't wanna feel like this though," you exclaim as you bring your hands up to tug your hair, "I- I wanna like myself-"
"And you will," Schlatt says firmly, pulling you against his chest as his thighs sandwich your body between them, "it just takes time. For everyone, let alone someone who's had to work so hard."
You let out a shaky breath at his words, leaning back against him "they're not some trophy I can wear with pride, they're proof that I have to try so hard to be who I am."
He frowns as he holds you tighter, planting a soft kiss to your head as he rocks with you gently, "they're proof of how hard you've worked. Proof that you're tougher than anything."
"But I'm not tough- I don't feel tough," you stutter out.
"But you will be, I promise you will be."
You sit together for a long while in silence as he holds you, swaying gently as you lean into his body. "Y/N?" he asks gently and you hum, "can I take this off?" He gives you a gentle tug to your shirt and with a shaky breath you nod, preparing yourself for that burning feeling to settle under your skin.
He moves to sit next to you on the bed, gently pulling your shirt over your arms and feeling his breath catch when he gets a good look at you. He was never a sentimental guy, but you, right now, shirtless in the soft glow of the lamp in his bedroom, this was the kinda stuff they write poems about.
“Jesus Christ,” he finally said, his voice rougher than he intended. You flinch away from his gaze, and he curses himself, reaching out a comforting hand before you could shut down. His hands landed warm and firm on your sides, thumbs tracing slow, careful circles over your skin. “I mean—fuck, come on... you’re just perfect.”
You feel your cheeks heat up at his compliment, unable to stop the smile that breaks out on your face. "Like seriously," he says, his thumb shifting up to trace the scars on your chest, "this is what you were worried about? Scared you were too attractive?"
That has a laugh bubbling from your throat as you scoff and nudge him away, mumbling a small shut up as he tackles you to the bed in a hug. He wraps his warm arms around you, lips meeting the newly exposed skin as he peppers soft kisses along anything he can find, "like it kinda makes me sick how good lookin' you are."
You just lay together, wrapped up in each other, laughing together, as the anxiety from the past weeks melts away with each soft kiss he plants on your skin. "I'm sorry," you mumble softly as you thread a finger through his hair, "I didn't mean to push you away."
"I didn't mean to either, I just got in my own head," he mumbles as he settles himself on top of you, head resting gently on your chest as he wraps his arms around you, "we gotta talk to each other next time."
You hum in agreement as you card a hand through his hair, feeling the butterflies erupt in your stomach as his eyes droop shut sleepily, warmth blossoming as he plants a gentle kiss to your scar.
"I don't expect you to go parading around the streets topless if that's not what you want," he says softly against your skin, "but they're nothing to be ashamed of," he shifts slightly so he can look up at you "they don't make me think any less of you, or think you're any less handsome than you are."
You lean down and plant a gentle loving kiss on his lips, pulling away as he speaks again, "even if you're not proud of them," he says, thumb tracing your scar gently, "I am. I'm proud of you."
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schloopcentral · 1 month ago
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I hope one day I’ll find someone who will love me like I love the smplive bird heist
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parkvcrs · 1 year ago
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same difference
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“kissypoooo 🧟”
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fanficfox · 20 days ago
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schlatt would 100% order your favourite food and wrap you in blankets before putting both of the cats in your lap if you were having a bad day… cheek and forehead kisses every time he walks by you watching tv, he just want his baby happy (his baby is you)
i really wish i was his baby. i wish this senecio was real. but that’s what weed and sleep is for. btw the favorite food part hit real hard for me for some reason
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keyslox · 1 year ago
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comforts having a not to pleasant trips d<:(
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yumiis · 1 year ago
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。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚。 SOUTHERN CHARM ; SCHLATT
  ゚・。・゚
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genre; tooth rotting fluff
type; headcanons
a/n; ... this is just really self indulgent from last night okay?? it's a southern!reader x schlatt hc list :,) i hope you guys enjoy !
read below!
Whenever Jay moved to Texas, that's when he met you, the little southern firecracker. He thought you were the most interesting person he'd ever met. Your accent, the way you carried yourself, your mannerisms, all of it.
In turn, you also thought he was really interesting. A guy with mutton chops, from New York, moving to Texas, just to keep streaming for people on the internet. It was nothing like you'd seen before, and you loved it.
You two slowly became good friends, and that meant you showing him music you liked. Sure, you didn't like JUST country music, but you did like a lot of country music. You showed him a lot of the basics, like Luke Bryan, Blake Shelton, Jason Aldean, etc.
At first, he really, really hated it. He also hated all the southern lingo you used, mainly because he didn't know what the hell you were saying to him.
"Git! Git!" He smirked, "What the hell are you saying?" "I want the cat to get out of my room!" "Then just say get out!" You tilted your head. "That is what I'm saying!"
Eventually, you two got so close, you started dating. The New Yorker and the Southerner. Who would've thought?
You have an array of nicknames for him, one of them being 'sha'. He doesn't know what it means, and it annoys the piss out of him at first, but it grew on him.
"Why d' you call me that?" You sighed, looking at him from over the kitchen counter. "Who else in your little friend group or, hell, in your LIFE is gonna call you sha?"
He nodded, you had a good point. No one else was gonna call him sha. That was your nickname for him, no one else's. He found it endearing the more you called him sha.
Suddenly, you catch Jay listening to more country music, specifically 'Beautiful Crazy' by Luke Combs. You thought it was really sweet. "Does this song make you think of someone in particular, JJ?" He jumped, not realizing you were sneaking up behind him. "What? No! No. Obviously not. Maybe."
... It was you guys' wedding song. :)
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apollos-boyfriend · 1 year ago
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happy halloween! last year, i drew the tinarose family, so i thought it was only fitting to draw the schlarklez kids! baby’s first halloween…..
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nvmadic · 2 years ago
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GUILT AND SHAME - 01
synopsis: after a messy dispute revolving around your toxic boyfriend, schlatt takes matters into his own hands and puts your safety over his. some feelings are unearthed that need dealing with. words: 7,130 warnings: drinking, toxic relationship, fighting, mild language notes: she/her pronouns used + reader wearing a dress
As you stood in front of the mirror, admiring the image of a confident and beautiful version of yourself, your boyfriend's voice cut through your thoughts like a sharp knife. His words dripped with disappointment and disapproval, making your heart sink. "I don't think I like this one," he said, his face twisted with a frown as he examined your dress. The underlying sense of dissatisfaction etched on his face made you feel self-conscious, and you suddenly became aware of how much skin the dress exposed. He sat at the edge of the bed, watching you with an exasperated glare, while you tried to hide the insecurity creeping up inside you. Your smile vanished in a split second, and your confidence evaporated into thin air, like a mist that disappeared under the harsh light of reality. His words hit you like a ton of bricks, shattering your self-assurance into a million pieces.
"You've already made me try on ten different dresses, I think this one's okay," you replied, unable to suppress the underlying frustration in your voice. You didn't want to waste any more time trying on different outfits that he would just criticize anyway. Examining yourself in the mirror once more, you noticed that he was still watching you, his eyes scanning your body as if he owned it. The possessive glint in his eyes made you feel wanted and desired and was somewhat endearing. He stood up, his eyes softening as he leaned in to brush a rogue strand of hair away from your face. "I just don't want people to be admiring what's mine," he stated with a smile, his fingertips grazing your face as he intently admired you.
As the notification pinged on his phone, he reluctantly pulled himself from the comfort of your bed, watching you bustle around your bedroom to gather your things. His tone was innocent enough, but there was a subtle edge to his question that you couldn't ignore. "Who's coming tonight?" he asked, his voice showing a hint of suspicion. You shrugged, not wanting to dwell on the possibility that he was trying to control who you spent time with. "Not sure, just a lot of people," you replied, your keys jingled as your locked your front door and placed them into your purse. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he opened the car door for you, his hand gently guiding you towards the waiting car. "Well, then I'll just have to stay with you to make sure I don't lose you," he whispered in your ear, his breath tickling your skin. Despite the unease in the back of your mind, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth at his words; it was a sweet enough gesture.
Nestling into the backseat of the Uber, the scent of the leather seats and the gentle hum of the engine did little to quell the knot of nervousness that had formed in your stomach. The bright lights of the city flashed by in a blur, casting fleeting shadows that seemed to add to your unease. The noise of honking cars and bustling crowds filled your ears, drowning out your thoughts and leaving you feeling on edge. Despite your boyfriend's hand resting on your thigh, you couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension, as if you were walking into an unknown and potentially dangerous situation. The ride seemed to last forever, each passing moment bringing you closer to your destination and your mounting anxiety.
As you emerged from the car, the frigid night air nipped at your cheeks, sending a shiver down your spine. It wasn't just the chilly temperature that made you quiver, however, you knew he had a tendency towards jealousy, and the mere possibility of confrontation made your stomach churn. The air was thick with the sound of laughter and music, and the atmosphere hummed with palpable excitement, but it was tempered by a creeping sense of unease. You took a deep breath, hoping to calm the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, as you ascended the front steps. The porch light illuminated the faces of the partygoers, casting eerie shadows that seemed to flicker and dance in the night. You scanned the crowd, but you couldn't spot anyone you knew yet. Your boyfriend's hand pressed firmly on your back, directing you towards the entrance, and you couldn't help but feel both relieved and apprehensive.
As you stepped into the party, the atmosphere engulfed you like a tidal wave of energy. The pungent smell of alcohol, sweat, and cologne hung heavily in the air as if daring you to navigate through the throngs of strangers. The music thumped loudly, making it difficult to hear your own thoughts. You scanned the crowd, noting the faces of unknown individuals in various states of intoxication. The cacophony of voices melded into a blur of sound, leaving you feeling like an outsider in a sea of conviviality. But then, your boyfriend's voice broke through the clamour, drawing you back to reality, "I'm going to go and get us some drinks don't go too far." He gave you a tender peck on the cheek and disappeared into the chaos. His cologne lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of his presence, leaving you feeling more isolated in the crowd. Nonetheless, your boyfriend was never one to leave you to your own devices for long.
Startled and caught off guard, you were momentarily frightened until a sudden, overwhelming wave of perfume assaulted your senses. An arm wrangled over your shoulder, pulling you back into a tight embrace with a forceful tug. The pulsating music thudded through the floor, reverberating through your chest as you strained to hear over the deafening noise of the party. Despite being in such close proximity that you could feel her hot breath on your neck, the words QT spoke were barely audible, lost in the cacophony of the crowd. As you turned to face her, you couldn't help but notice the warmth of her smile and the twinkle in her eyes that spoke volumes of the genuine happiness she felt at seeing you. You felt a pang of guilt, realizing that it had been months since you last saw her due to both of your busy schedules. However, you pushed the feeling aside, reminding yourself that you were together now, and that's all that mattered. You spoke for a while, lost in each other's company until you suddenly became aware of your empty hands and your sobriety. With a final goodbye, you set off on a quest to find your elusive boyfriend, disappearing into the sea of people once more.
As you made your way through the chaotic party, you couldn't help but marvel at how many people were crammed into one house. It was a true testament to your friend's social prowess. Pushing your way through the thick crowd, you couldn't avoid brushing against strangers who seemed completely unaware of their surroundings, It was tough to keep your balance amidst the groups of guests. It was like you were a tiny boat trying to stay afloat in a raging sea. Suddenly, someone who was clearly in as much of a hurry to get somewhere as you were, crashed into you. You stumbled and almost fell, but you simply just toppled into them as they barely budged, their tall sturdy figure acting as a cushion.
Grinning playfully, they jested, "Seems like you've had one too many, huh?" You stammered out a series of apologies, straightening your dress and composing yourself. Finally meeting Schlatt's gaze, you saw his brow raised and a mischievous grin on his lips. "You seem pretty sober," he observed, scrutinizing you with his eyes for a moment longer than necessary. He then took a swig from his bottle of honey-coloured beer, the liquid sloshing around inside. "I just got here," you explained as he finished his drink. "Why didn't you dress up?" you asked, looking at his casual attire of khakis, a sweater, and a cap, whilst everyone else was wearing something smart casual. He simply shrugged. "I'm not sure if I'll be sticking around long enough to bother dressing up," he replied, toying with the empty glass in his hand. You nodded in understanding, but as you tried to catch his eye, you noticed that he was scanning the crowd intently as if searching for someone or something.
As you spoke, his eyes softened and he half-smiled, "Have you lost someone?" you inquired. "No," he replied simply, his voice low and mellow, "I just didn't realize it had gotten this busy in here," he said, but his eyes told a different story. Despite the discrepancy, you didn't press the matter. Schlatt fiddled with the bottle in his hand, then looked up at you, "You look nice, by the way," he complimented you, causing a warm glow to spread through you. Almost immediately, though, you felt guilty for enjoying it. "Thanks," you replied coyly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "I'm thinking maybe I should have dressed up now you're making me feel underdressed," he admitted with a hint of self-deprecation. In an attempt to lighten the mood, you jested, "You look alright, I suppose." His expressions softened, and he chuckled softly, "Alright," he mimicked you, "I'll take it, I guess." You both laughed, the sound barely audible over the jarring noise of the crowd. It was only then that you noticed how close you were standing to him. The heat radiating from his body almost touched yours, and the air between you was charged with a strange energy.
As a possessive grip took hold of your hips, you were pulled in by your boyfriend's confident demeanour. With a cocky grin spread across his face and two bottles gripped tightly in his hands, it was as if he was asserting his dominance over the situation. His tug towards him seemed like a demonstration of his control, and his conceited expression was an unmistakable display of his authority. The pull on your body was forceful as if to flaunt his power for all to see, especially Schlatt. The arrogance emanating from him was tangible, and he seemed to relish in his superiority. Schlatt's cheerful demeanour withered, not just from the sight of you being held like a predator with its prey, but from his appearance alone.
As he planted a lingering kiss on your cheek, your boyfriend's grip on your hips tightened. "I got your drink, babe," he declared with a hint of aggression, thrusting the glass bottle into your hand. In his eagerness, he spilt some of the golden liquid onto the floor. Schlatt's face twisted into an expression of revulsion, but he quickly concealed it, not wanting to give your boyfriend the satisfaction. "I'll see you around," he said before disappearing into the mob of people. Your annoyance was written all over your face, and your boyfriend's raised eyebrows only added to it. He took a sip of his beer as he asked what bothered you. With a soft tone, you chided him, "We were just talking. What was the need for that?" You toyed with the bottle in your hand, hesitant to start drinking. The bitterness of the beer only seemed to match the sourness of your mood.
With an air of superiority, your boyfriend justified his possessiveness with a condescending explanation. "I know how men operate, I don't trust him around you when he's drunk," he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. The suggestion that Schlatt would do something untoward in his inebriated state was absurd, and you couldn't help but recoil at the implication. A scoff escaped your lips as you took a step back, looking at him with disdain. "I can't believe you just said that," you retorted, feeling a wave of anger washing over you, "I'm not your fuckin' pet," you added firmly. Your words were like a cold bucket of water thrown in his face, and your boyfriend's expression quickly turned from anger to surprise. He seemed taken aback by your assertiveness, and you could see the gears turning in his head as he struggled to come up with a response. Finally, after a long pause, he spoke. "I'm sorry," he apologised, his voice low and contrite, "I didn't mean to imply that I don't trust you. It's just that... well, you're so beautiful, and I get jealous sometimes. I don't want to lose you." His tone was apologetic, sincere and filled with love but you'd already heard this a thousand times before and it was the final straw, and quite honestly hearing the words come from his lips made you feel nauseous.
Just as tensions were running high, QT arrived, almost as if on cue. Brazenly, she walked over to you and linked her arm with yours, gently tugging you away from your boyfriend who stood in shock. "Come with me to the bathroom, I need you to help me with my dress," she said softly, her tone a welcome relief from the heated argument. Without looking back, you allowed her to guide you through the sea of people towards the bathroom. Finding a quiet space, away from the chaos of the party, QT guided you to a room and shut the door behind her. Her voice was soft and genuine as she asked, "Is everything okay?" She had been watching and was clearly concerned, as she noticed the tears brimming in your eyes. You felt the tears threatening to spill over as you tried to hold back your emotions, but the concern in her eyes was enough to break your resolve. You let out a shaky breath before pouring out everything that had happened between you and your boyfriend, including the incident with Schlatt. Her lack of surprise was not unexpected, as she had always made her disapproval of how your boyfriend treated you known. Despite her concerns, she respected your decisions and allowed you to make your own choices, as long as you were happy. She agreed to stay nearby and keep an eye out for him, ensuring that he wouldn't be able to approach you until you had calmed down enough to make your own decision on what you wanted to do. Despite her own strong opinions on the matter, she made it clear that she would support whatever decision you made regarding your relationship with him.
As you opened the door to the party, the wave hit you once more. The overwhelming amalgamation of booze and perfumes hit your nostrils and wasn't quite as nauseating as it once was before, you gingerly sipped at your drink and followed your protector to a small group of people out of the way of the main crowd, a quieter place where you could actually hear your own thoughts and not worry about being caught in a stampede. As you joined the group, you recognized a few familiar faces and greeted them with a small smile. You noticed that your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of relief mixed with guilt. You didn't want to cause a scene or ruin anyone's night, but you couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling in your gut. The group chatted and laughed, and for a moment, you forgot about your troubles. However, as the night progressed, the alcohol flowed freely, and the energy of the party grew wilder, you finally began to loosen up as it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.
It was half an hour to midnight, and you had drank a decent amount of alcohol, enough to the point where you were decently inebriated but you were still very capable. Veering off from the group you were with, you ventured into the crowd to find a toilet. Unavoidably, there was a queue of a few people waiting. The amount of alcohol you had consumed made your abdomen ache, had you been sober you would have been fine, it's almost as if drinking beer shrank your bladder. As you waited in line, you couldn't help but feel a bit anxious about being alone once more in the crowded party. You glanced around nervously, noticing how people were becoming more intoxicated as the night wore on. Suddenly, you felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned to see Schlatt standing behind you, a look of concern on his face. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked as he leaned in, his voice loud enough to be heard over the music. You felt a sense of relief wash over you as you recognized his familiar face. "Yeah, just waiting for the bathroom," you replied, smiling gratefully at him. Schlatt nodded.
"You decided to stay then?" You asked, surprised that he hadn't silently disappeared into the night. He smiled as he thought to himself, "I don't really have anything better to be doing," he stated indifferently. Schlatt's face had a drunken glow as he beamed down at you, his expression calm almost as if he did not have a care in the world. You nodded attentively, not wanting to engage in too much conversation with him as you weren't too sure where your boyfriend was. However, Schlatt seemed intent on talking and began to ramble about various topics, from the latest video games to politics. You found yourself nodding along, trying to be polite, but your mind was elsewhere. As you stood there, waiting for your turn, you couldn't help but think about your relationship with your boyfriend. His possessive behaviour and lack of trust had been slightly bothering you for a while now, but you had always tried to ignore it, hoping that things would get better. But tonight, his behaviour had crossed a line and you knew that you couldn't continue like this. Lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed when it was your turn to use the bathroom. As you finally entered the bathroom, you couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was time to reevaluate your relationship.
Finally making your way back to the group after manoeuvring the crowd, it was close enough to midnight that people were soon beginning to count down. You couldn't help but feel a knot in your stomach as everyone else was, you should be standing arm in arm with your boyfriend preparing for a New Year's kiss, but here you were alone. In the midst of the crowd, you noticed a very familiar face who appeared to be extremely drunk; hair dishevelled, clothes ruffled and extremely sloppy looking. It was your boyfriend. Similar to the feeling of going down a slope on a rollercoaster, your stomach dropped when you noticed he was arm-in-arm with another woman. You didn't need to question him any further as on further inspection, he had lipstick marks smeared on his face. Your heart sank as you watched him laughing with her, his hands firmly planted on her hips just like he did to you only a few hours ago. You could feel an interminable amount of anger brewing from within.
He managed to lock eyes with you through the crowd, it was like time slowed down and everything went painfully slow for you to witness. Admittedly, you were hoping for his face to be overwhelmed with a shock that you had caught him, but instead, he just grinned and pulled her closer, his hands wandering her body as if he had done this before, a sense of familiarity. Your heart sank even further as you realized that he didn't even care that you had caught him in the act. It was as if he didn't even have the decency to feel ashamed or guilty. Anger boiled inside you as you watched him continue to flaunt his infidelity in front of you. As the countdown began and the crowd started shouting "3, 2, 1!", he pulled her close and vigorously pressed his lips onto hers, a prolonged kiss to further punish you. Your anger turned into hurt and betrayal as you watched the kiss. You felt like you were drowning in a sea of emotions, unable to process everything that was happening. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause as the new year began, but you were oblivious to it all. All you could focus on was the pain of being cheated on and the realization that the person you loved didn't love you back. The betrayal stung, and you wondered how you could have been so blind to not see the signs earlier. He was just projecting everything onto you, and how could someone so obsessed with his girlfriend cheat on her?
Your heart was pounding as you made your way through the sea of people, your eyesight blurry from the tears that wouldn't stop falling. The once festive atmosphere of the party was now suffocating, making it hard to breathe. You just had to get out of there, away from the suffocating atmosphere and the memories that now felt tainted. As you pushed your way through the crowd, the sound of music and laughter ringing in your ears, you felt tears streaming down your face, unchecked and unstoppable. You tried to keep your head down, to avoid the curious gazes of strangers who might wonder what was wrong with you, but it was impossible. You were a mess, a wreck, a walking disaster. It was then that you bumped into Ludwig, his smiling face a sudden intrusion in the midst of your pain. He asked what was wrong, his concern evident in his voice, and you wanted to lash out at him, to scream and curse and blame him for your misery. But you couldn't. He was innocent, and he was trying to help.
As you stepped outside, the cold night air hit you like a slap in the face, the sudden change in temperature causing you to shiver uncontrollably. You glanced up at the sky, taking in the burst of colours and sparkles that illuminated the darkness above you, the fireworks painting a beautiful but surreal scene in the otherwise quiet night. The loud booms echoed in your ears, making you feel even more disoriented and lost. You tried to take a deep breath, but your lungs felt constricted as if the reality of the situation was suffocating you. The sound of the party faded into the background as you struggled to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. Ludwig's voice broke through the silence, calling out to you with a note of panic in his voice. You turned around to see him hurrying towards you, his expression etched with concern. "Wait," he called out again, trying to catch up to you. His footsteps echoed on the pavement, the sound of them reminding you of how alone you felt at that moment. Suddenly, the sight of Schlatt getting into an Uber caught your attention. You were surprised to see him there, as you had presumed that he had gone home. He turned his head in your direction, his eyes widening as he noticed the commotion.
The bitter night air chilled you to the bone as you stood there, the warmth from the party now a distant memory. The glow from the fireworks continued to paint the sky in vibrant colours, adding an eerie beauty to the bleak scene. You could feel the weight of your heartache crushing your chest, making it difficult to breathe. As Schlatt approached, his imposing figure seemed to loom over you, but his gentle demeanour and genuine concern helped ease the tension. It was comforting to have someone there who seemed to understand, even if he didn't know the details of what had happened. Ludwig appeared grateful for Schlatt's intervention, stepping back to give him space to approach you. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of your quiet sobs. Schlatt's concern was palpable, and it was clear that he wanted to help in any way he could. You could see his mind working, trying to come up with a way to ease your pain.
Your boyfriend's slurred words were punctuated with the sound of his heavy breathing and the clacking of his shoes on the pavement as he emerged from the house, furious. The sharp scent of alcohol emanated from him as he stumbled closer, his eyes bloodshot and wild with anger. As he spoke, flecks of spittle flew from his mouth, landing on his chin and shirt. The atmosphere around you was heavy with tension, the air seeming to thicken with each passing moment. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears as you braced yourself for whatever might come next. "It's what you deserved, you bitch!" Exclaimed your drunk boyfriend as he began to stumble through the front door and down the drive, almost falling on his face in the process. At that point, the two boys stood beside you and connected the dots. "And what a surprise to see you here," he growled drunkenly as he looked at Schlatt, his eyes blazing with fury. Schlatt's response was calm and measured. "It's no surprise to me," he said evenly. "I was invited." The tension in the air was palpable as your boyfriend wavered for a moment, seeming to consider his options.
Your boyfriend's words were filled with bitterness and accusation, his voice heavy with rage as he stumbled towards you. "I see the way you look at her, I'm not stupid," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Why are you so hurt? I should be the one that's hurt," he continued, his violent words spewing out of his mouth like venom as he tried to play the victim. With each step he took, his breath became more erratic, and his anger more palpable. "I wouldn't be surprised if you two had been fucking behind my back," he accused, his eyes blazing with fury. "So why am I in the wrong for doing the same?" The accusation hung heavily in the air, casting a dark cloud over the three of you as you stood frozen in shock and disbelief.
"You need to leave," Schlatt's voice was eerily calm, though you could see the anger in his eyes. As he spoke, you could hear the muffled whispers and murmurs of the partygoers gathering around, drawn by the commotion outside. Their curious faces peered out from the windows, and some even emerged from the door to get a better view. The sudden attention made you feel exposed and vulnerable as if every mistake you had ever made was on display for everyone to see. The embarrassment you felt was overwhelming, and you wished you could just disappear. Your mind was a jumbled mess of emotions and thoughts, and it was difficult to even process what was happening. The ground beneath your feet felt unstable as if it could give way at any moment, and you struggled to keep your balance as you stood there, trying to make sense of it all. "Make me," your boyfriend violently spat as he was now within arm's length, the vile smell of alcohol emanating from his mouth. Your boyfriend's words were slurred and aggressive as he stepped even closer, his body tense and ready for a fight. Schlatt stood his ground, his face a mask of anger and frustration, but he didn't move to physically engage with the drunk man. You could feel the tension in the air reaching its peak, as partygoers continued to gather around the scene, murmurs and whispers rippling through the crowd. Your boyfriend's hot breath on your face was suffocating, and you felt a mix of fear and disgust as he continued to spew venomous words. "Make me," he repeated, his eyes narrowing as he seemed to be daring Schlatt to take action. It was clear that things could escalate quickly and you prayed for a peaceful resolution to the situation.
You couldn't help but feel torn between the desire to leave and the morbid fascination with what might unfold, almost as if you were watching a scene from a movie. Schlatt's unyielding presence was like a beacon of hope, his steadfast defence of you a reassuring reminder that not all men were like your drunken boyfriend. Your boyfriend's face twisted into a mask of rage, his fists clenched tightly as he took a step forward, challenging Schlatt to a fight. Schlatt's own fists were balled up, his jaw set in determination, but he didn't move from his spot. Instead, he held your gaze for a moment, a silent message passing between the two of you.
All of a sudden, your boyfriend, his face twisted with anger and drunkenness, had thrown a sloppy punch at Schlatt. In that split second, you could see the fear on Schlatt's face as he defensively pushed your boyfriend back. The suddenness of the violence caught you off guard, and your mind raced as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. As you watched in horror, the situation quickly escalated. Schlatt and your boyfriend were now locked in a violent struggle, their bodies entangled as they threw punches and grappled with each other. Your boyfriend's movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, fueled by the alcohol coursing through his system. Schlatt, on the other hand, seemed to have sobered up and was more agile than the inebriated mess in front of him. He stood his ground and dodged some of your boyfriend's drunken blows.
You stood there frozen, unsure of what to do as the fight continued to escalate. The chaotic scene unfolding in front of you made it difficult to keep track of the action. The air was thick with the sounds of fists striking flesh, grunts of pain, and desperate gasps for air combined with the screaming and shouting of the watchful party attendees. You could see the sweat dripping down the faces of both men, their breathing laboured as they continued to exchange blows. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion, every movement amplified, every punch landing with a sickening thud. The anger and frustration in your boyfriend's eyes were palpable, and you knew that he wasn't going to give up easily. You felt a wave of anxiety wash over you, and you desperately searched the crowd for someone who could help. Your boyfriend's movements were sluggish and uncoordinated, his punches lacking any real force or precision. It was clear that he was inebriated and not in control of his actions. Schlatt, on the other hand, had sobered up quickly, and his movements were calculated and precise.
Without hesitating, Ludwig quickly made his way through the crowd of party guests towards the brawl. As he reached the two men, he grabbed your boyfriend from behind, pinning his arms to his sides, and pulled him away from Schlatt. Schlatt stumbled backwards, momentarily disoriented, before regaining his footing and stepping back, his hands raised in a defensive posture. Your boyfriend continued to struggle in Ludwig's grip, his face contorted with rage as he tried to break free. The sudden shift in the situation caught the attention of the other party guests, and several of them rushed over to help. Together, they managed to hold your boyfriend down and calm him down, while Ludwig and another guest escorted him out of the way. You turned to Schlatt, who was still catching his breath and offered him a hand to help him up. He took it gratefully, his expression a mix of relief and anger.
The sound of your voice was barely audible, barely above a whisper, as you managed to utter the two words, "I'm sorry." The weight of guilt and shame felt heavy upon you, causing tears to stream down your face. Your heart ached with regret, and you wished with every fibre of your being that you could turn back time and undo the events that had unfolded. You wished you had never attended the party, that you had stayed home instead. The words felt inadequate to express the depth of your remorse, but they were all you could muster at that moment. You lowered your gaze, unable to meet his eyes, consumed by the overwhelming sense of guilt that washed over you. "It's not your fault," Schlatt muttered hoarsely, his voice strained from the struggle, as you continued to stare at your feet, not wanting to look at his bruised face. His words brought you little comfort, as you still felt responsible for the chaos that had erupted.
After Schlatt had reassured you, the silence between the two of you was heavy, as you both struggled to come to terms with the violent events that had just unfolded. Finally, you mustered the courage to look up at Schlatt, his face now slightly discoloured and bloody from the fight. You asked him, "Are you okay?" Your voice was barely audible, still trembling from the shock of what had happened. Schlatt nodded, it seemed as if he was in more shock than pain despite the way his face was blemished with the lingering stains of the punches.
His face was still bloodied, you couldn't really help but notice how his brows furrowed, and how the moonlight accentuated his prominent features. Pulling you from a trance, "Let me take you home." Schlatt insisted, wiping his nose from the red liquid that was still slowly dripping. You were so close to just insisting that he go home himself as you had already gotten him in enough trouble but you secretly craved his company. You shyly nodded, turning around to your surprise to see that Schlatt's Uber was still parked on the curb, the driver obviously getting engrossed in all of the chaos that unfolded.
Schlatt opened the door for you and helped you into the back seat, careful not to get any blood on you. As he got in beside you, you couldn't help but notice how close he was sitting. You could feel his warmth radiating off him, and the scent of his cologne was intoxicating. Despite the events of the night, being this close to him was comforting in a way that you couldn't quite explain. As the engine purred as the car pulled away from the curb, you stole a glance at Schlatt. Schlatt seemed lost in thought, his eyes staring blankly out the window. You wondered what he was thinking about, whether he was regretting the events of the night or if he was simply lost in his own world. You noticed the way his jaw clenched and unclenched, his muscles tense with a quiet intensity. It was clear that he was still processing everything that had happened that night,
s you sat in the car, the silence felt like a welcome respite from the chaos of the night. You took a deep breath and leaned your head against the window, watching the city lights pass by in a blur. The rhythmic sound of the car engine provided a sense of comfort, but as you neared your apartment building, a feeling of unease began to bubble up inside you. You didn't want to venture out alone, not with the silence being a microphone for your own horrible thoughts.
After a moment of hesitation, you turned to Schlatt and asked softly, "Do you want to come in?" His surprise was evident as he swivelled his head towards you, a glint in his eyes. His response was just as soft, still laced with the daze of the night, "Sure." As you got out of the car and made your way to the entrance of the building, fumbling with your keys as he stood behind you. As you slowly made your way to your apartment door, you couldn't help but feel a wave of comfort knowing he was with you. It was nice to know how he didn't push for conversation and just followed you quietly. Once inside, your numbed body collapsed onto the couch as you let out a deep sigh, not even having bothered to turn on the lights, the darkness was almost a comfort in itself.
As Schlatt followed you in, he lingered by the doorway of the hallway, looking around at the surroundings that were shrouded in a veil of darkness, taking in what he could of his new surroundings. "Are you okay?" He asked, which amused you slightly, knowing it was a silly question but his heart was in the right place. "I just," you stammered, staring into space, "I just don't know." But unlike your boyfriend, you knew you didn't need to give him a concise answer as he understood you, he always had. It was clear that he didn't want to bring up the wrong thing or say something that would upset you even further, so he remained silent. It was so quiet you could hear his fingers comb through the facial hair on his cheeks, even being able to hear his weight shifting from one leg to the other as the floorboards creaked.
"Was he right?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question had been nagging at you all night, and you couldn't keep it bottled up any longer. Schlatt's silence made your heart race as you awaited his response. He leaned against the doorway, his features illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights outside. "Was he ever right about anything?" he finally replied, his tone cold and dismissive. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, grateful that he was on your side. But as you held his gaze, doubts crept in, and you wondered if he was just saying what you wanted to hear. You didn't want to push him further, knowing he had already been through enough that night. So you remained silent, letting the conversation come to a natural end.
Schlatt finally straightened himself and wandered off into your apartment, his footsteps heavy and concise as he began to explore. You watched as he took in his surroundings with a curious gaze, his eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other. He seemed lost in thought as he wandered through the living room and into the kitchen, the fridge door swinging open with a creak followed by a faint buzz of static. You couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you as you listened to the sound of him rummaging through your fridge, the clinking of glass bottles and the rustling of plastic containers filling the silence of the apartment.
As he settled onto the couch, you noticed how he winced as he shifted his weight, indicating that he was probably still in pain. His eyes looked tired, and his movements were slow and deliberate. He handed you the bottle of water with a gentle grip, careful not to spill any of it, and you eagerly took a long gulp of the refreshing liquid, feeling the coolness of it spread throughout your body. Meanwhile, Schlatt had retrieved a bag of frozen vegetables from your freezer and was now holding it to his swollen face. You couldn't help but wince at the sight, still feeling guilty for dragging him into the mess that had transpired earlier. "Thanks for this," you said, gesturing towards the water bottle. Schlatt simply nodded in response, his eyes closed as he leaned his head back against the couch with an exhausted exhale. You leaned your head back as well, feeling the exhaustion begin to wash over you.
As the silence stretched on, your mind raced as you replayed the events of the night over and over again. You couldn't help but notice the way Schlatt had complimented you, how his gaze had lingered just a little too long. Was it all in your head, or did he feel something too? The possibility made your heart race, but you quickly tried to quell those thoughts, knowing that it was probably just wishful thinking on your part. The sound of his breathing next to you was a comforting presence, but at the same time, it only made you more aware of the thoughts swirling in your head.
Your hand felt heavy as if it was filled with lead, but you couldn't stop yourself from inching it closer to him. Your fingers trembled as they delicately danced towards his thigh, almost as if they were detached from your brain. You knew it was a bad idea, but the temptation was too strong to ignore. His eyes met yours as he looked at you with a mix of emotions, and you couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind. His hand moved to yours, his fingers interlocking with yours, and a gentle warmth radiated from his touch. You both sat there for what felt like an eternity, lost in the moment, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the beating of your heart to fill the silence, but as quickly as the moment had come, it was gone. He pulled away abruptly, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. He averted his gaze, frustration etched onto his features, and you could feel your heart sink at the sudden shift in mood.
He announced, his tone slightly chagrined, "I think you're confused." He paused for a moment, seemingly contemplating his words before continuing, "I want you to be sure of what you're doing before you start messing with my feelings," he admitted. His eyes held a mix of vulnerability and caution as he looked at you, waiting for your response. You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and uncertainty, realizing that you might have been acting impulsively without considering the potential consequences. You sat there, nodding slowly in agreement, the weight of his words sinking in. Deep down, you knew he was right, and you had to come to terms with your own feelings before potentially hurting him. It was easy to get caught up in the moment, especially when you had been longing for this kind of attention for so long. But you couldn't deny the nagging doubts that lingered in the back of your mind.
"I should probably head home," he said, groaning as he stood up from the couch. His eyes seemed unusually gentle as he looked down at you, almost as if he felt a tinge of regret for leaving you in this state. "Take all the time you need," he added, "and get some rest." You watched in silence as he moved around the apartment, returning the frozen vegetables to the freezer and making his way towards the front door. He paused for a moment, turning to give you a brief but meaningful "goodnight" before disappearing into the darkness.
link to the rest of my work [x]
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e1izaaxkles · 1 year ago
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Petition for @vibestillaxxx to not run away (reblog to sign)
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leoizkuul · 2 years ago
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You know you can make it; But you can’t make it alone.
Jschlatt x Reader
blurb of sorts, ~350 words.
Features: Hurt/ Comfort, fluff, gender neutral reader.
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Stuttering through your words, you choked out a puny sentence between your sobs. Your hands in front of you were gripping the air with frustration, almost trying to speak with them instead of words; and your shoulders at your ears, showing how tense you were.
"Jay, you can't help me; I’m too far gone-“
He kneeled down beside your shaking figure, careful not to cause more of a stir. His actions almost copied that of a gentle giant, frightened he might scare you away if his movements were too agile.
“Even if you can’t be helped, even if you can't change, even if you, I dunno, somehow cause the end of the world-” he trailed off with a light chuckle and that smile you couldn’t help but grin at.
“I will still be here, I will never try to change you, sweetheart. You’re perfect as is. No matter how damaged you say you are, or how many times you point out your flaws; you’re still as beautiful as when I first met you. I’ll still love you as much as I did then, just like I do now, and just like I will in the future.”
His tone was lighter than a feather, almost mirroring his slowed movements. He gently rested the palm of his hand on your cheek, rubbing soothing circles into the centre of your cheekbone. He laid his other hand atop of yours, bringing them together and holding them tight; but not to where it would feel suffocating.
He knew you, he knew how easily moments like these could happen. He didn’t care if you had to take a few days to recover from your overbearing feelings, he’d be there. Be by your side and help you with whatever you needed. And he’d loved you, no matter what your mind would whisper in your ear during lonesome nights.
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thanks for reading ヽ(*・ω・)ノ  I may post more but I get severe writers block most of the time so forgive me  (メ﹏メ)
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