#somedays i just gotta repeat words

[lieximhuman]

The word for today was “bitch” ^w^

I think I repeated it over 20 times…

[heartfullofleeches]

Just say your Carnis and puppy!reader post, and my head immediately went to cattle dog!reader or emotional support puppy!reader would be an amazing pair for Carnis. Allow me to ramble a bit about emotional support puppy!reader for a bit-

disclaimer! I do not have an emotional support dog...I've got emotional support guinea pigs -kinda- so take my thoughts with a tablespoon of salt. ^^;

Anyways-!

- Emotional support puppy!reader who was the one who started the dynamic between the two without really realizing that was what they were doing. They'd catch Carnis in the middle of a panic attack or a trauma episode, and their first thought is to sit down beside him. Slowly inching closer and closer until they're sitting shoulder to shoulder with them. Turning their (reader's) head slightly towards him so they can keep an eye on his heart rate and anxiety levels.

- Emotional support puppy!reader who starts following Carnis around where they go, always within a quick few steps away from them. So that any time Carnis starts to seem like they're slipping into a nasty unfun headspace, Emotional support puppy!Reader can be there to gently guide them down to a sitting position. (Maybe if Carnis would be comfortable with it, Emotional support puppy!Reader can do some compression therapy by laying on top of the big softie. Especially if Emotional support puppy!Read is also Himbo/beefy puppy!Reader. So it's like a weighted blanket -and Carnis gets a face full of puppy!Reader's chest. It's warm.)

- Carnis who becomes a bit dependent on Emotional support puppy!Reader. Gaining separation anxiety, freaking out and pushing themselves into a panic attack if Reader isn't an arms length away. Which only makes Reader feel all that more like they've gotta be there for their friend :(.

- Carnis who treats Emotional support puppy!Reader more like an emotional support stuffy a child might carry around with them 24/7

- (Emotional support puppy!Reader who -as a joke- gets a collar or like vest that says 'Emotional Support Animal' with Carnis' name under the words. Both writing out in big letters)

Just emotional support puppy!Reader and Carnis brain rot.

I saw beefy and himbo used to describe Reader, and my soul ascended to the heavens- You were already cooking with this, but a sweet, himbo puppy who makes it their duty to keep Carnis in a stable mind is gold. Carnis had dealt with orderlies pinning them down whenever they lashed out in the lab- Those rough, cruel hands replaced by the passive weight and fluff of a kind puppy would do wonders for Carnis, and put them out like a light.

Besides their embrace, nothing soothes Carnis quicker than Puppy yapping about whatever topic their brain comes up with- It gives them something else to focus on than what's dragging them down, and Puppy has never painted Carnis repeating words and phrases they say in a negative light, which the cow values more than anything.

Carnis dependency gets so bad somedays they'll have a full blown melt down if Puppy makes the harmless mistake of switch over to another isle in the grocery store. If Carnis doesn't have them in his immediate line of sight, who knows what might happen? Puppy gifting Carnis an article of clothing ripe with their scent like a shirt or jacket helps him work up the courage to distance themselves from Puppy for a while... If they didn't get too caught sniffing it all the time.

-

Carnis: Y/n a-asked me to pick up some tomatoes for dinner. They gave.. me their sweater because they trusted me.... Y/n's sweater.... Puppy's sweater... Smells nice. Soft too.. L-like them... Sleepy..

Puppy Reader: Haha- We'll work on this later, let's just go together, like always!

-

Puppy Reader: So, there's this donut shop that has huuuge donut display on their roof, and everytime I pass it I wonder how much of it I could eat before I got sick if it were real... Sorry- This probably isn't helping much, wanna switch over to counting?

Carnis: N...no... This...is better.

[snapscube]

on the name thing: i think people want to call you something different because they like you and want to feel like they're your friend by giving you their own quirky nickname. a show of affection or something. that's my good will interpretation of it because it's certaintainly something I can relate to.

also hope this is ok to say, but I miss seeing you doing facecam. you're gorgeous ^^ i respect if you don't feel comfy with it tho, it ain't easy and it's probably much comfier to not bother with it at all lol

have a great day, Penny!

(i know i literally just said im moving on from this but i felt like this idea was worth responding to, AFTER THIS i am moving on guaranteed) i get that! and thats why i stress that i feel this way regardless of intent because the last thing i want to do is cause guilt or demonize people for something that's ultimately pretty common. but even considering your example, with that notion comes a couple problems:

i am not your friend! i do think that there has been a bit of an OVER-correction when it comes to how people think about parasocial relationships and personally relating to people they admire, and generally i like to push back against the notion that having any parasocial relationship is a bad thing cause personally i think parasocial relationships are unavoidable and it's more about your expectations towards that one-sided relationship that become the issue. but two things remain true in either case: i know you so much less than you know me, AND you know me infinitely less than you think you do. so at the end of the day, it is not my responsibility to walk on eggshells about behavior that assumes an intimacy from me i am incapable of and especially uninterested in retaliating.

i have to stress that i am extremely aware it would be insane of me to expect to control peoples actions regarding this on such a large scale, and im also well aware many people come in who are new who get this info for the first time. i repeat the conversation in the interest of introducing those boundaries to people who are new and in general just reinforcing them. i try not to be such a stick in the mud about most things but this is something I REALLY care about, and so i give it the no-nonsense approach i think it deserves. on that note: understanding that there are going to be gaps where people either just do not know about my preferences or simply do not care doesn't mean i have to pretend like i also don't care about it. people can say whatever they want about me in their own spaces, you can call me whatever the fuck you want amongst friends. i do not care cause i do not have the capability to care, it's never going to reach me! but that does not mean i have to pretend to enjoy it if/when it DOES reach me, especially if it's presented as an option for me to respond to. if someone just calls me something weird in a chatroom it's like, i literally do not have the energy or overall scope of vision to react to every one of those instances specifically. there absolutely are things u just gotta let roll off of u sometimes. BUT, the reason we often get into this conversation repeatedly on my tumblr is because given the ask format i get a lot of people who go out of their way to approach me with name jokes or loopholes to an actively established preference as if they are looking for my approval on it. that is where it becomes a little more unpalatable for me.

and to respond to your second question: i appreciate the kind words on that! i sure would like to reintroduce facecam again someday somehow but right now my desk setup is not great for it haha

[yuurei20]

Lilia Facts Part 26: Lilia and Floyd

Lilia vetoes Trey and Vil as potential younger brothers for being too low-maintenance, to the point of being boring: “I doubt they'd do anything too nonsensical. That makes them predictable, and where's the fun in that? Wouldn't you rather have someone who defies your expectations?”

Lilia ultimately chooses Floyd.

Ortho points out that, based on that logic, Jade may also fit his criteria, but Lilia says that Jade likes being subtle and indirect whereas Floyd is quick to challenge those whose strength he recognizes, and he appreciates that straightforwardness.

Lilia says, “With (Floyd), I'd have no trouble engaging in the kind of communication done most effectively through brawling.”

Lilia approaches Floyd about teaming up during the Stitch event, saying, “You impressed me yesterday with that campfire you built and the music you played. I suspect we'd have much fun together.”

Floyd agrees to join him but Azul and Riddle forbid it despite Lilia assuring them that they don’t have to envy his and Floyd’s friendship: “I belong to everyone!”

During Beanfest Floyd pretends to be a team player in for a shot at confronting Lilia, saying that Lilia has “gotta be the most fun to squeeze outta anybody."

Floyd ultimately gets his wish, successfully capturing Lilia.

Lilia observes, “There's no greater time for caution than in one's moment of triumph,” in a sentiment that its repeated in Book 7.

Floyd says he noticed Lilia was completely unsurprised by Epel’s sudden attack (“Haven't you ever heard that actin' surprised is good manners?”) and Lilia says he can hardly believe that someone as young as Floyd had the patience to wait for just the right moment.

Though Floyd was able to catch Lilia by surprise during Beanfest and Lilia has a long track record of surprising other people, it is possible that we have never seen Lilia surprise Floyd.

At Lilia’s farewell party Floyd says that they’ve barely said to words to each other outside of school events, but he had been hoping they’d be able to have “an epic throwdown someday” based on Silver telling him how strong Lilia is.

Lilia says he is also disappointed he “couldn't put a cheeky underclassman in his place” and Floyd lets the comment slide, as Lilia is his senpai and it is his last day at the school.

[lucygxybaird]

imagine you're killed in a shootout or a fight, and everything is so fast, so hectic, that billy doesn't even realize until it's over. until he sees you lying there, so still. too still.

maybe you're tucked away in a corner of the house where the gang has holed up, and he sinks to his knees on the floor, kneeling beside you like a penitent.

he pulls you into his arms, even though he knows you're already gone. he smooths your hair away from your face, makes sure your clothes are straight and neat, and he just holds you. he doesn't rock or scream or beg for help. it's too late for that. it's too late for any of that. besides, doing anything would require thought, feeling, and he's empty. it's like someone hollowed him out, his heart fading away the moment yours stopped beating.

he sits there with you -- with your body, rather, since what really made you you has disappeared and will never, never, never come back -- and he stares into nothing. at some point, though he's unaware of choosing to move, let alone doing it, he finds himself leaning against the wall with you still in his lap.

he can't bear to look into your face.

he doesn't move, doesn't show any signs of life at all except for the involuntary, slight rise and fall of his chest, until charlie crouches beside him and tries to take you away. "billy, we need to--"

"don't," he says. turning his eyes toward his friend, billy looks at him with a dull, angry gaze, like a fire banked low. "don't you fuckin' touch her, charlie. she's gonna stay right here."

there are tears in charlie's eyes. you were his friend, too, and billy is like his brother. "billy," he says gently, pityingly. "we gotta bury her. we've buried everybody else. it's her turn."

"no," billy answers. "no."

he tightens his arms around you, holding you higher against his chest, as if you can still listen to the beat of his heart (you always liked to do that; you told him once that nothing made you feels safer than lying in his arms, your head nestled onto his chest, listening to the steady drum. it tended to lull you right to sleep). he stares at charlie, wild-eyed but blank, like an animal driven into a corner.

charlie doesn't say anything, and it's not until he's silent for a long time that billy realizes he's left. he has no idea how long it's been or where charlie has gone. he doesn't care.

there's a window -- shattered glass littering the floor -- across the room, and through it he can see that it's gotten dark. how long has he been sitting here? he has no idea. he doesn't care about this, either.

"i'm sorry," he tells you. he still doesn't look at you. "i'm so sorry. this is all my fault. it's always my fault. i shoulda told you to get outta here--"

i shoulda made sure he knew he was my hero, i shoulda found a better doctor, i shoulda made more money so she didn't have to work as hard, i shoulda stayed with him...

at some point, he looks around again, and manuela is sitting next to him. she touches his shoulder. "billy," she says.

like he did with charlie, he just tells her: "no."

"querido, we must," she says, her hand still on his shoulder. "we have to. it's time. she can't stay like this. it's not good for her."

"what?" billy blinks.

manuela reaches out with her free hand and brushes billy's hair out of his eyes. "it's not good for her," she says again. "she needs to go home."

"she is home," billy says. his eyes sting and he doesn't know why, because he's empty, which means he doesn't have anything left to give to tears. "she's with me."

smiling sadly, manuela shakes her head. "her home is different now," she says. "you will join here there, someday. i am sure she will be waiting for you. she loved you very much." she squeezes his shoulder. "but now you need to let her go, so she can rest and wait for you there."

"rest?" he repeats, like he's never heard the word before. his throat tightens, and he can feel one bead of moisture, and then another, trickle down one cheek. "she's tired?"

"yes," manuela says softly. "she's very tired. she needs you to let go, so she can rest."

a choked sob wrenches its way out of his chest, clawing as it goes, and he finally loosens his hold on you. "okay," he says. "okay. so she can rest."

they bury you separately from everyone else, underneath an oak tree that spreads its leaves over a pool of shade. it will shelter you, he thinks, from the wind and the rain; it will keep you safe and warm, protect you, succeed where he failed.

he makes your marker himself, whittling your name and your date of birth onto a piece of wood and sticking it upright in the earth. he can just see it from his window when he lies in bed, not sleeping until his body forces him to sleep, exhaustion bullying him under.

at first, all he wants to do is be with you. he doesn't want to keep you waiting too long.

but he knows you well enough to be sure you wouldn't want that for him. you'd want him to fight, to live. his work in lincoln county isn't done, not yet, not by a long shot.

when it is, though, when it's time to finally lay down his guns, he knows where you'll be. and he'll join you there, finally able to rest. finally home.

[honeyjars-sims]

3.5 Illumination

It was a beautiful summer day, nice and sunny with a gentle breeze that was just right for a day at the beach. Destiny had been trying to get Johnny to meet with her (and their sisters) for a couple of weeks, but he kept coming up with excuses to stay home.

When she reached out with an invite to Playa Del Sol, though, he couldn’t bring himself to turn down the offer. The beach was one of his favorite places; he couldn’t be unhappy for long with the ocean in view.

Johnny was sitting in the sand, attempting to mold the wet clumps into something vaguely recognizable. On the other side of the lumpy mess, his nephew Darien gleefully tossed two handfuls of sand into the air.

“That’s the way to do it, buddy!” Johnny laughed. “You’re an architect in the making!” Darien babbled in agreement. 

“You’re really good with him,” Destiny said.

Johnny shrugged. “It’s pretty easy. I just have to play like a little kid and say silly things to make him laugh.”

“He doesn’t take to people very easily. I think you're better with kids than you give yourself credit for. You’ll be a great dad one day!”

Johnny scrunched up his nose. “I don’t know about that. At this rate I doubt I’ll even get married.”

“Come on, Johnny! I know it hurts that things didn’t work out with Lexie, but this is your first heartbreak. Give it some time and you’ll be ready to try again.”

“My first heartbreak, huh? So that means there are more coming.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But everyone goes through it.”

“Not you. You married your first love,” Johnny pointed out.

Destiny sighed. “Yeah, I guess I’m not the best person to go to for breakup advice. But I do know that you’re too much of a romantic to give up on love for good.”

“Do you think you and Tyler are soulmates? Or do you even believe in that sort of thing?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. It’s a nice thought, that some magical force brought us together. But even if we are meant to be, our relationship still takes work. We both had to put ourselves out there and we both have to continue making an effort. Not just for us, but for Darien, too.”

“Uh, wait.” Johnny began looking around in a panic, realizing Darien was no longer next to them. “Where is Darien?” 

Destiny whipped around to find Darien toddling off towards the concessions stand. “Shit! Darien, get back here!” She darted off behind him.

“Go, Darien! Make a break for it!” Johnny couldn’t help but laugh now that he knew his nephew was safe and sound.

While Destiny wrangled her runaway toddler, Johnny walked over to talk to Chantal and Trinity who were sunbathing on some lounge chairs.

“You two aren’t done roasting yet?”

“We’re not roasting, we’re getting a summer glow,” Trinity corrected.

“Hmm, well I hear the rotisserie chicken look is totally in right now.”

“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” Chantal deadpanned. “Where’s Destiny?”

“Chasing after Darien. Here they come now.”

“No more escaping, mister,” Destiny lectured as she plopped onto the ground, pulling Darien firmly into her lap. 

“You’ve gotta get faster, dude! Freedom is just around the corner,” Johnny countered.

Destiny pointed to Johnny. “Don’t listen to a word this one says. He’ll get you in trouble. Say ‘no, no, Uncle Johnny!’”

“No no!” Darien repeated with a giggle, clapping his hands with delight.

“Oh, you’re gonna tell me what to do? I’ll show you!” Johnny knelt down and scooped Darien into his arms.

Darien’s giggles turned into high-pitched squeals as his uncle lifted him into the air. Johnny considered what Destiny said earlier about him being a good father someday.

The thought of parenthood scared him a bit–there are so many ways you can mess a kid up, after all. But seeing the joy on Darien's face was like getting a glimpse into the future. One without late nights at the club, fights with his family, or meaningless sex.

Maybe Destiny was right and he was giving up too easily. It wasn't too late for him to have a life like his sister's--a happy marriage, beautiful kids, a job he loved.

For now, though, he was just focused on being a good uncle. All the fun without the responsibility.

“Come on, let’s go get some ice cream,” he said, carrying Darien towards the concessions stand.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[devildomditzy]

I probably should've just made that the request.... mammon + 🥺💛

+ "are you afraid of dying?"

You ask him one day while you’re both lying down right on the outskirts of the courtyard. There’s a spot between two grand cypress trees that provides the best shade, and for you two, the best hide out.

You don’t move your head from its position, eyes boring straight up into the sky above you. You ask such a terrible question, so easily. Like it was nothing, like you weren’t human.

“Are you afraid to die?”

Mammon shoots his head to the side to stare at you in shock. He startles, moving his hands from his resting position behind his head to turn his body and look at you. As he does, his glasses fall from their position atop his head, where they pushed back his snowy white bangs, and clatter to the ground behind him. He pays them no mind, too focused on the words that just slipped so recklessly out of your mouth.

“What kinda question is that? Did ya forget I’m a demon already?”

You laugh, almost to yourself, as you continue watching the clouds float by.

“How could I forget? But you’re a demon, not immortal. So, you know, someday…”

He puffs out his chest in a feign of bravery, but inside he’s shaking. What the hell brought on this form of questioning from you?

“The Great Mammon will never die! Not if I have anythin’ to say about it, that is.”

The second sentence is said significantly quieter than the first, you note.

“Mm”, a small noise finds it’s way out of your mouth.

It’s still for a moment, the two of you returning to comfortable silence. You reach out a hand towards the sky, opening and closing your fingers as if trying to grasp the clouds.

He watches you now, so fascinated. How could such a fragile, innocent creature like yourself seem so nonchalant about an idea like that. His chest continues to buzz.

“Whadda ya thinkin’ askin’ a dumb question like that? It’ll be a long time comin’ before I gotta think about that kind of stuff, unlike-”

He cuts himself off, not wanting to go there. Not for a second did he want to think about the inevitable. About the life span of humans. About you.

He doesn’t even need to state the question back to you, as you begin to answer yourself. All words he didn’t want to hear.

“I don’t think I am.”

He doesn’t know how to respond, so he waits for you to continue.

“I mean I kinda already did right?”, you give a breathy chuckle. It steals the air out of his lungs, but also lights a fierce anxiety in his heart.

He says the only thing he can think to say, because it’s the only thing that runs through his mind when he thinks about that day.

“I’m sorry. I shoulda been there. I shoulda never let ya go off by yourself, I should been able to-”

“Shh.”

You quiet him before the tears can begin to fall from his eyes, as they do often do at the mention of that situation; at the mention of Belphegor; at the mention of losing you.

You turn to face him now, a the outstretched hand now claiming a spot in his cheek, wiping at the corners of his eyes.

“You know it isn’t your fault,” you say with a gentle smile of your face. And he wonders how? How are you able to talk about it so freely? How are you able to comfort him when this fear bubbles up? How could a demon like him end up with someone like you?

He can’t stop his arms as they move faster than his mind can keep up, bringing you into his chest, nuzzling his face into your hair, kissing the crown of your forehead.

“I don’t think I’m afraid to die”, you repeat. He wishes you’d stop. But he doesn’t expect the next words out of your mouth. “I don’t think I’m afraid of much of anything anymore, because I have you, Mams.”

He pulls his head back to look at your beautiful face, his eyes wide is astonishment. You simply stare back with the same soft gaze you’ve carried the whole time.

“Thank you.”

The words leaving your mouth sound so genuine, so pure, that he almost struggles to comprehend them. He’s positive his blush is giving way to his emotions, but he can’t seem to bring himself to care, he can’t seem to bring himself to deflect. All he can do is stare at you in amazement.

And now he’s holding you tighter than ever, like if he lets go he’ll lose you for real this time. Like if he lets go, you’ll have never even existed at all.

It’s hushed, almost so low you don’t hear it. Whispered with so much emotion behind it, emotion that you know is hard for him to express properly.

“I love ya.”

You give a small hum, nestling yourself even further into his grip, like if you don’t get close enough, this will all just have been a dream. Like you never would have met the man in front of you.

“I love you too, Mammon.”

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 23 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3319 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

Finally, I spotted him, chilling on a couch in the corner, rocking a beer and a smoke as his serious eyes stared at me. My heart tightened seeing him like that; normally, when he saw me, it meant smiles and a hug. Now, however, he just watched me, his cool blue eyes meeting mine from across the room. I held his gaze for a while, my face turning a bit warm as we looked at each other. Heart skipping a beat, I wondered: was he gonna brush me off? Stand up and bail, pretending I wasn’t even there?

✦ summary: Reuniting with James forces Nore to confront the complicated feelings that arose after their kiss.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle, drinking, smoking, recreational drug use

✦ a/n: Hello! I'm finally on Christmas break and have lots of free time, so I'm trying to write as much as I can! I'm really glad I could post this chapter before the end of the year, and I hope it won't take me too long to post the next ones :) We're on the final half of the story, and things will get a bit more intense from now on. So, how do you think James and Nore are gonna deal with their feelings from now on? I'm really excited to write about it! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is welcome and motivates me a lot! ❤

✧ I want to be the girl with the most cake / He only loves those things because he loves to see them break / I fake it so real, I am beyond fake / And someday, you will ache like I ache ✧

It didn't take too long for me to catch up with my friends again. Just a bit over two weeks post-Leanne's birthday bash, Cliff gave me a ring with some exciting news: the band had landed a gig at a renowned venue in Los Angeles, and if the first show drew a good crowd, there was talk of a repeat performance to wrap up the year.

I hadn’t crossed paths with James since he had kissed me; gotta admit, the idea of facing him after all that had happened had me feeling a bit uneasy. But I was hopeful that, when the time came, we could have a conversation about it. I just hoped we could keep our friendship. There were many things I could handle, but losing him for good was not something I was ready for.

The band needed to fill the place, so Cliff asked if I could bring someone along. I ended up inviting Pat, my friend from the record store, to join me at the show. I mean, asking Dave was out of the question; as time went by, he was getting more and more bitter every time Metallica came up. Even though he wasn't thrilled about me going to the show, having a companion seemed to ease his mood a bit. Ever since I came home with a bruised hand from having to defend myself, he seemed to gradually become more protective and concerned every day. I knew he'd rather I not navigate crowded spots alone, especially at a metal show. But, when it came to Metallica, his wounded pride still had the upper hand.

I met up with Pat right outside the record store before the gig, so we could go to the venue together. She greeted me with the biggest smile, her blonde locks and blue eyes all dazzling.

"I'm so stoked!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing with happiness as I handed her the ticket and the backstage pass. "I've never had backstage access before. This is gonna be rad!"

"Yeah, it's cool. But don't expect anything too fancy; we usually just score some drinks and access to the dressing room," I said, throwing out a strained smile. I tried not to let the nerves creep in about seeing James again, but now that showtime was approaching, my anxiety was cranking up by the minute.

"Oh, don't be a buzzkill," she pouted. "You’re in a bad mood today? Aren't you happy to see your friends?"

"Sorry, Pat. I'm just kinda on edge," I replied with a sigh. Despite really liking Pat, I wasn't up for diving into the whole James-kiss situation with anyone. Truth is, I had been mulling over it way more than I'd like. Couldn't wait to clear the air with James once and for all.

We rolled up a bit later to the venue, and there was already a decent line of fans. It always blew my mind how they had just dropped their first album not long ago but were pulling in a hype crowd that was growing by the day. I could sense the West Coast getting too cramped for whatever they were cookin' up. And, like always, no need to wait in line for us; the IDs whisked us straight backstage, where the guys were getting their act together, getting stage-ready, and already a bit toasted.

I couldn't really zone in on the whole scene that kicked off with Lars, Kirk, and Cliff swooping in for the welcome party; drinks were handed out, cigs were fired up, and Lars, as usual, threw in his cheeky comments ('hey, your friend's a total babe!'). But honestly, none of that was grabbing my full attention. My eyes were on a mission, desperately looking for the only person I wanted to see. No matter how much I tried to fool myself, all I cared about was making sure things were cool between James and me.

Finally, I spotted him, chilling on a couch in the corner, rocking a beer and a smoke as his serious eyes stared at me. My heart tightened seeing him like that; normally, when he saw me, it meant smiles and a hug. Now, however, he just watched me, his cool blue eyes meeting mine from across the room. I held his gaze for a while, my face turning a bit warm as we looked at each other. Heart skipping a beat, I wondered: was he gonna brush me off? Stand up and bail, pretending I wasn’t even there?

Instead, he just got up, strolled over, and handed me the beer bottle.

“Want some?” he asked, throwing a faint smile my way. I blinked, kinda surprised. The way he talked, it was like nothing had happened. Like he never had kissed me. Like I never had bolted out of Joe's kitchen, leaving him all alone.

But, hey, wasn’t that exactly what I wanted? For things to be normal again. For us to stick to being friends, no drama.

“Of course. You ever see me turn down a beer?” I replied with a grin. He let out a soft chuckle and handed over the bottle, his cold fingers brushing mine for the briefest fraction of a second before he brought the cig back to his mouth.

Before long, the venue staff gave us the heads up that the show was about to kick off. The guys wrapped up their final checks, and Pat and I joined them, enjoying a beer by the stage. Pat was all hyped about it; even though she didn't know the band, she was really getting into the music, full of the enthusiasm you'd expect from a dedicated fan. As for me, I was a bit more reserved this time. Don't get me wrong, I was always happy to catch up with my friends, but I couldn't ignore how uneasy I felt, especially when I noticed James's glances, splitting his attention between the crowd and shooting looks my way, a silent storm brewing in his blue gaze.

After the concert wrapped up, he handed his guitar over to a puzzled Kirk, not even bothering to look at him. He headed my way, big steps and a bit of annoyance wrinkling his forehead; at that point, I was almost sure he was going to cup my face in his hands and kiss me again. The idea had my face turning hot, my heart racing, and the palms of my hands getting sticky with nervous sweat, recalling the feel of his lips on mine. Instead of that, he just stopped and locked eyes with me for a moment, carefully studying my face before saying:

“So? How was the show?”

“It was awesome! You guys rock, I loved it!” Pat exclaimed, all excited, breaking the momentary electricity that had arisen between us two. James raised an eyebrow, curious, as if just now realizing she was there, and shot me a puzzled look. I just shrugged, wearing a slight smile.

"It was killer, like always," I said with a grin, and he shot one right back at me. There it was — the familiar, genuine smile I'd been missing all night. I couldn’t help but feel relief wash all over me when I saw it.

We wrapped up the night at some random downtown bar. Most of the time, I stuck with Pat since she only knew me there. A couple of beers, a joint, and watching her all hyped up did the trick; I started to unwind, and soon enough, I was enjoying the night with a lightness I hadn't felt in ages. Had a cig between my lips, just chilling and keeping an eye on the guys from a distance. Cliff and Kirk were deep into some serious chat, sharing a joint. Lars and James had found some fans from the show, cracking up and talking loudly while passing around a bottle of vodka.

"Can I ask you something?" Pat threw out. I shifted my gaze from the scene, catching her curious, kinda fuzzy look — probably thanks to a bit of the booze. Before I could even answer, she kept going: "What's the deal with you and James?"

"Me... and James?" I raised my eyebrows, totally caught off guard. She nodded, a little smile playing on her lips. "We're... We're friends."

"And that's it?" She raised an eyebrow, and I furrowed my brow.

"Of course, that's it, Pat! You know I'm dating Dave."

"Yeah, I know. It's just..." She started, letting her eyes wander over to Lars and James before turning back to me with a mischievous grin. "He's quite the looker. Mind if I flirt with him a bit? Just for fun, you know."

I blinked, caught off guard, and then burst into laughter, my face heating up in a mix of surprise and confusion. Out of all the scenarios playing in my head for that night, Pat showing interest in James was definitely not on the list.

“Sure, why not,” I said, and she shot me a smile before strutting in the direction of James and Lars. I watched her go, a little smirk on my face, a tiny pang of envy sneaking into my chest. Maybe life would be more of a breeze if I could summon that kind of confidence in myself so easily.

"So now you're playing matchmaker?" I heard Cliff's familiar voice, and I looked up to meet his brown eyes staring at me. I grinned as he lit a cigarette, handing it to me before popping the top of the beer can he had in his hand. "Are you okay?"

"Never been better. And you?"

"Are you sure?" he raised an eyebrow. "Last time I saw you, you weren't very happy."

"Yeah, felt a bit down after... you know, what happened," I confessed with a sigh. "But I think that's all settled now, isn't it?"

Cliff didn't seem entirely convinced. He took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke billowing out before he reached out to me. I took the cigarette from between his fingers, bringing it to my lips.

"I thought James liked you," he commented, his attentive gaze fixed on my face. I shrugged.

"Maybe he does. But you know I have a boyfriend, Cliff. Maybe it's good for him to be distracted by some other girl for a bit," I said, and Cliff snorted.

"Not even you believe that, Nore."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think? Are you sure about what you're doing, throwing your friend at him like this? Or will you regret it later?"

"Why would I regret it?" I furrowed my brow, then stared at him defiantly. "I know what I'm doing, okay?"

"If you say so," he shrugged, taking the cigarette back from my hand.

I watched him walk away with a frown, scanning the area for James, my stomach churning uncomfortably when I couldn't find him anywhere.

We bounced out of the bar late at night, still riding high on excitement and energy, a bit too drunk but not giving a damn about it. Lucky for us, the guys were staying at a friend's house nearby, and a quick call to Pat's dad had us sorted for a ride home from their place. I said my goodbyes to the guys and enjoyed the cruise home. Pat, usually a chatterbox, was oddly quiet on the drive. When I nudged her about James, she blushed so hard I couldn't help but crack up.

When I got home, I made a beeline for the shower. The hot water washed away the remnants of the night's boozing, helping me unwind and finally realize how tired I was. I slipped into my PJs, hopping into bed next to a knocked-out Dave.

I let out a soft chuckle when his arms wrapped around me, his lips landing on my neck. It was like he had a sixth sense that woke him up the moment I was back, even from the deepest sleep. Like he just knew I was nearby. How could I think of anyone else when Dave loved me like this?

“Hey,” he mumbled, his voice all sleepy, planting a kiss on my shoulder.

“Hey,” I replied with a smile, turning in bed to face him. I swept his ginger hair away from his face, and he grumbled before pulling me closer, burying his face in my neck.

"Missed you tonight," he murmured, his raspy voice making me shiver in the best way. "Glad you're back."

"Course, I'm back," I whispered, running my fingers through his hair. "We’re not gonna fight tonight, right?"

"Hmm..." he grumbled, his lips making their way up my neck until they met mine. His hands grabbed my waist as he settled on top of me. "No fights... got something else in mind."

I laughed into his kiss, my face warming as he turned up the intensity, making my whole body heat up. In that moment, wrapped up in his arms, I was sure I was loved. I was sure he loved me. And that was, and always would be, enough. 

Or, at least, that's what I told myself.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

[sunsetseason8910]

broski can you write me something about redfinch + their daughter?? my inspo is not high and i hope your writing inspires me a little!!

no pressure, i think your blog is really cool <33

bet

It was exactly 2:36 in the afternoon when Albert got the call from the adoption agency. Him and Finch were hanging out with Spot and Race, and he stepped out onto the balcony of their apartment to take the call. Finch eyed Albert warily as he was on the phone, instantly throwing himself off the couch when he saw tears leave Albert's eyes.

"Babe what's wrong?" Finch asked, a concerned look displayed across his face. Albert looked him in the eyes, and smiled.

"We got the baby," He uttered the words both excitedly and nervously.

Finch took a whole ten seconds to process the words that just left Albert's mouth before tightly wrapping his arms around Albert, who returned the embrace almost instantly.

"You're gonna be such a great dad," Finch whispered, feeling hot tears of joy run down his cheeks.

"Are you kidding? I can't wait to see you hold her," Albert returned, laughing as tears fell down as well.

"You guys alright out here?" Race opened the door, almost as concerned as Finch was before hearing the news.

"We got the baby," Albert smiled.

"Holy shit!" Spot stood up off the couch and ran over.

"We gotta go shopping!" Albert turned to Finch.

Thirty minutes later, Spot, Race, Albert, and Finch were all searching the aisles of Walmart for everything they might need for their new baby girl.

"Awww," Spot whispered to himself as he picked up a newborn onesie.

"Getting baby fever, spotty?" Albert came up behind Spot.

"Nah, we're not in the right place for a baby," Spot explained. Albert and Finch had been married for two years now, But Spot and Race hadn't even gotten engaged.

"Well who knows, maybe someday," Albert countered.

"Someday," Spot repeated.

The four bought every possible thing a baby girl might need, from too many baby bottles, to three different kinds of diapers, a crib, toys, binkies, enough clothes for three newborns, and more.

And before they knew it, Albert and Finch were on their way home from the hospital, a new baby girl in the backseat.

"Ready to see your new home, Addy?" Finch leaned over the passenger seat as he spoke to the baby. Albert looked over, admiring the sight of his husband having goo goo eyes over the precious baby.

Albert couldn't have felt happier in this moment. His loving husband, a new baby girl, and a beautiful nursery waiting at home? it took him so long to get here, but they made it.

The three pulled up to their apartment building, taking it slow on the walk home. Albert unlocked the door as Finch held the carrier, and they took her to her brand new room.

"Welcome home baby Addy," Albert whispered as they opening the door to the room which Jack had generously covered in a mural of a bright blue sky with clouds, the crib that Spot had built in the corner, the baby sized newsie cap sitting on a shelf Davey had put up. So much love had been put into this nursery by their surrounding chosen family, and they couldn't wait to raise this baby girl here.

[staygoldwriting]

💌 To the Steve I Loved Before: Part 5

A Steve Harrington TATBILB!AU fic

Parts 1-4 on my masterlist!

Summary: Y/N has written love letters to get over her deepest crushes. What happens when Steve Harrington gets his hands on her letter to him?

Disclaimer: This is inspired by the To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before series by Jenny Han! I have used none of her characters, but have only used the premise of a love letter in the wrong hands.

Word count: ~1200

Warnings: None, just fluff!

A/N: I'M STILL HERE!!! 🎉 I have been gone for so long and I'm SO SORRY!! I started my new job, and it's taken all of my time 😢 But I'm finally back, and I hope you guys love this next chapter! I will try my best to get another part out soon 💕Also, I know I keep teasing the letter, but know that I wrote it before anything else, so it'll be out in a couple chapters 👀Please let me know what you think, and, as always, please show love and support! ❤️✨

“Y/N?”

You were staring blankly at Steve as he waved his hand in front of your face. You snapped back into reality and looked at him.

“Sorry, okay, you said seven for pizza at your place?” you said quickly.

“Eight, but Y/N, did you write me--”

“Gotta go, Steve, see you!” you said, then rushed away before he could finish his question. As you sped walked to the front of the mall, Robin was waiting for you, shaking her head. 

“What have you done?” she asked, chuckling.

“I don’t wanna talk about it, let’s just go,” you said, not stopping as you walked past her.

-💌-

You sat at your desk, bouncing your knee up and down, planning and panicking in your mind. Robin was laying on your bed, her head hanging off the edge as she scrunched her face up in concentration.

“So,” she started, “you’re going to pretend to date Steve Harrington.”

“...Yep,” you said, squinting at the wall.

“Well, you’re going to need some ground rules,” Robin said, looking at you.

“Ground rules?”

“Yeah, so you guys are clear on this little game you’re playing.”

“I don’t think we need rules, Rob. We’re not even actually dating.”

“Are you gonna kiss him?”

“What? No!” you said, your heart beating quickly.

“Okay, then how are you gonna make your relationship believable?” Robin asked, flipping herself onto her stomach. 

“I mean, I don’t know,” you said. 

“Well, you should definitely kiss him,” Robin said. “First of all, no one would ever believe you two are dating if you don't kiss at least once in public. Second of all, it looked like you both enjoyed it quite a bit,” she smirked. You threw a stuffed animal at her.

“Bite your tongue, Buckley!” you yelled, trying not to laugh. 

“You’re blushing!” she yelled victoriously.

“Am not! I mean, yeah, he’s cute or whatever, but that doesn’t subtract from the fact that he’s a class A jerk,” you pointed out.

“I don’t know, you might be surprised,” Robin said, sitting up. “I think all the rejections he’s gotten at Scoops have bruised his ego enough for him to actually have mappable humility.”

“Steve? Humble? I’ll believe it when I see it,” you chuckled. 

“Well, keep me posted. I think you guys should both visit each other at work, but make it look natural since you haven’t done that before. Ease into it. Second, you have to make him drive us all around.”

“Us?” you smirked.

“I have to benefit from this somehow,” Robin smiled. “Anyways, third, you guys have to go to the Fourth of July carnival together.”

“We won’t be together then. Eddie will forget about the letter far before that,” you objected.

“Just stick with me,” Robin said. “Lastly, and most importantly, do not fall for him.”

“Rob, we’re not in a John Hughes movie, I’m not going to-”

“Stick with me,” Robin repeated. “Don’t rule anything out. After all, you did write him a letter, right?”

“We’re not talking about that,” you said quickly.

“Well, the truth’s gonna come out someday,” Robin said. “In the meantime, it’s 7:45. Prince Charming awaits.”

-💌-

You knocked on Steve’s front door, and he opened it, smiling at you brightly.

“Hey, fake girlfriend,” he smirked. “Looking good tonight.” You scoffed at him, trying to hide your blush. 

“Can I come in?” you asked, trying to change the subject.

“Come on in,” Steve said, moving from the doorframe. “Go ahead and sit anywhere,” Steve said, motioning to the living room. 

“Sounds good to me,” you said, sitting on the couch. Steve sat down, facing you. You smiled at him awkwardly, then he opened the pizza box.

“Dig in,” he said. You nodded in thanks, then grabbed a slice.

“So,” he smiled, taking a bite.

“So,” you repeated, nodding. 

“You like Eddie, and now we have to date?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess you could phrase it that way,” you chuckled. “I’m sorry I got you mixed up in this, Steve.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, his mouth full of pizza. “What are friends for?”

“We’re still friends?” you asked weakly, making Steve look at you in disbelief.

“Of course we’re still friends, Y/N, why wouldn’t we be?” he said, looking at you confused, his mouth still full. 

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “You became so popular, and we stopped hanging out.”

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be your friend anymore,” Steve said, wiping his mouth and looking at you in concern.

“It sure feels that way,” you whispered, making Steve look at you sadly. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. 

“Don’t be,” you replied. “Anyway, we have some planning to do,” you said, trying to move on. You looked up at Steve, who was gazing at you. 

“Um,” you said, trying to break eye contact, “Robin had some recommendations to help our relationship look believable,” you said, looking back at him. “She says we should kiss at least once a day in public.” 

“Are you sure you can survive with just one Harrington kiss a day?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes at him, fighting a laugh. 

“She also said we should visit each other at work, and that you should drive me around, and Robin too.”

“Hm. So now Robin gets a free ride to work every day and also sees her best friend every time she has a shift. Makes me wonder who this is really benefiting,” he smirked. 

“Well, do you have any rules in mind?” you asked, and Steve tapped his chin. 

“Will you come to family dinners with me? Maybe with you there I can actually get through a conversation with my father. And we should go to the movies and stuff, make our relationship really public. Stuff we used to do, you know? We’ll just kiss when we do it.”

“I guess that works for me,” you said. “Is there anything we shouldn't do?”

“Well, I'll stop flirting with the girls at work, and you'll have to stop drooling over Munson,” he shrugged. “Other than that, I don't think I have anything else.”

“I haven't been drooling over Eddie,” you defended. 

“Well, then start drooling over me,” Steve said, mocking your tone. “Oh, and we should go to the Fourth of July carnival together,” he said.

“Robin said the same thing, but I don't think we'll still be doing this plan then, will we?”

“Well, we don’t have to be together to go,” Steve pointed out. 

“I guess so,” you said. 

“Did Robin say anything else?” he asked. 

“Yeah, she said we shouldn’t fall in love with each other,” you chuckled.

“I’ll try my hardest,” he smirked, winking at you. 

“Alright then, I think that covers it. We’ll hang out after work, I’ll go to family dinners with you, we’ll kiss each other once a day-”

“But more is always welcome,” Steve winked, making you groan. “And I’ll take you and Robin to work, and, when the time comes, we’ll go to the carnival, all while not falling in love. Sounds simple enough,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, totally easy,” you joked. “Deal?” you asked, holding out your hand. 

“Hm,” Steve said, his smirk returning. “I'll do this all on one condition,” 

“Okay, what is that?” you asked tiredly. 

“You have to let me read my letter.”

-💌-

Taglist: @tillkummer @mlle-ayka @sonicthehedgedoggo @klaine-92 @aurumbelis @onlyangel-444 @beep-beep-sherlock @morishitoshi @onceuponathreetwoone @toomanybandstocare @underthebatcape @zeldaknight @fieldofsecretss @prettyinpunk85 @igotbasicdrag @gothicfaires @thatonecurlygirl @luvthatlovestolove @loliakeoghan23 @dearelliewrites @mslunawinchester @aphex2winn @simonsbluee @inkedaztec @dumplinshee @pastel-abyss-x @frozenhuntress67 @hawkins-hs @witheringawayagain @theshinyrock @hollandcomics @pinkgothiccprincess @persephone13 @katsukis1wife @murnsondock @fictionlandslanddreams @srapalestina @babyghouly @madformunsonsstuff @harrys-titties @middle--fingering @urmomgov @maybankstarkey @jbetches @stardustmunson @maltinonka @chaerfull @middle-of-the-earth @lilsunshine1092 @thehairington86 @the-weeping-author @bisexual-and-intellectual @loving-and-dreaming @dory-98 @carinacassiopeiae @munsonzgf @just-a-lost-princess @imvomitting @lalalyra

[purpleturtle9000]

it may be a bit angsty of an idea, but in that moment before his death when Lastimosa links BT7274 to Jack, his last saying "Take care of him", I like thinking that both BT and Cooper took it as if Lastimosa talked to them in that moment, about the other. it'd be interesting if it'd come up between them at any point. Jack: okay, but he was talking to me?? BT7274: negative. it's the titan who should take care of the pilot. it's in the derictives Jack: Jack: --listEN HERE, U DUMMY--

you have perfect timing cause I was just talking about Jack coming up with Protocol 4: protect the Titan

update: all further Titanfall stuff is going to be on my new Titanfall sideblog! best-titan-7274

“You know,” Jack says, “you really should be more careful.” 

“Request clarification.” 

“Well, there’s gotta be a limited number of Titan parts around. Only so many times you can be repaired.” 

“Correct. There will someday come a point when Titans’ physical forms can no longer be repaired. However, with the current availability of raw materials, machinery, and skilled workers, I estimate that appropriate repairs for Titans will be available for another 174 years, without factoring in future availability of new materials and workers.” 

Jack really should have seen that coming. BT can be a little too literal at times, and even with how long they’ve been together now, Jack can still be wrong about how to be clear with him. 

“I meant that I don’t want to see you get damaged. I don’t–” Jack looks down at his hands, at the grease-streaked rag twisting between them, over and over. “I don’t want to lose you again.” 

“It is unlikely that I will be heavily damaged in combat again. Adequate repairs will be provided. The deployment of another SERE kit should not be required.” 

“It shouldn’t have been required the first time,” Jack mutters. He tosses the rag onto the rolling tool cart next to him and paces away. He’s never been great at emotional talks, he knows – but it’s different when he saw BT die. When he was never supposed to see his Titan ever again. 

“I sense that you are in emotional distress.” 

No shit. But BT gets quiet when Jack snaps at him. It’s stupid to compare a huge war machine to a kicked puppy, but it’s the thought that keeps coming to Jack’s mind, whenever they argue about something. 

Besides, he never did like arguing with his friends. 

“I’ll be fine, BT. Don’t worry about me.” 

“Pilot Lastimosa told me to take care of you. Protocol 3 is extremely important.” 

“Wait, what?” Jack turns, confused now. “He told me to take care of you. To make sure that you were okay. After two and a half years together, you meant the world to him.” 

“Negative. I cannot dispute Pilot Lastimosa’s affection for me, but it is the Titan who is required to protect the Pilot. It would be ineffective to fully place the Titan’s safety in the Pilot’s hands.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“You are welcome.” 

Ah, right. That literal mind again. Usually Jack just finds it funny, but at times like this, it can be a little frustrating. BT doesn’t always understand the way his words can be interpreted. Jack’s not sure if he even tries. 

Does it really matter, either way? 

“Look, I just want to keep you safe,” Jack says. “I know you’re a Titan, and there’s not a lot that can cross you, but you pretty much died. Twice. Humans get kind of upset by things like that.” 

“Humans are often illogical about the destruction of non-organic objects.” 

“Yeah, but you’re as much a person as I am. Maybe not literally, but when it counts, you and me, we’re a lot alike.” 

“Incorrect. There are a significant amount of large differences between us.” 

“I’m trying to protect you, dumbass! Protocol 4 is a thing!” 

BT crouches down for a better look at him, and Jack tilts his head to keep eye contact. Kind of. Staring at that glowing blue dot is the closest thing. 

“I am unfamiliar with any further protocols beyond the three assigned to me.” 

“Protocol 4,” Jack repeats. “Protect the Titan. Everything you do for me, I do for you. Deal?” 

For a second, he’s not sure what BT thinks of him, or the new protocol, or anything – and then BT gives him a thumbs up, and he knows everything’s right in their world.

[ultradelusional]

Stop you’re loosing me! Miguel o’hara x wife reader pt2 - “Wildest Dreams”

If you haven’t seen pt 1 it’s on my profile @ultradelusional

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Summary: after you left him for a relationship break (talked abt in pt 1) he can’t stop seeing you in his wildest dreams

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It had been 3 days since Miguel and you fought, 3 days that you had be out of his life. At this point he couldn’t take it anymore those 3 days felt like 3 decades to him as a million questions crowded his sleepless nights. “Why did I keep comparing her to Martha she’s nothing like her” “why didn’t I say something when I should’ve” he kept thinking of what he would’ve done different, what he could’ve done different and what he should’ve done different.

But for the past day peter B. Parker had been comforting his loneliness trying to get Miguel to sleep but alas it hadn’t worked yet

“Miguel you really gotta sleep you can think rationally after a good sleep then you can come up with something to get her back” Peter said tiredly as he was tired of Miguel’s resistance to sleep.

“I can’t sleep because why did I do that? Why did I just let her go!” Miguel said tired yearning in his voice

“I know I know Miguel but you gotta slee-“ Peter said as he got a brilliant idea to get Miguel to bed

“How about I make you soup Miguel you’ve barely been eating” Peter said as Miguel had been looking skinnier since you left him

“Sure” Miguel said grimly

After Peter B. Parker had finished the soup when Miguel wasn’t looking he slipped sleep pills and crushed them into the simple carrot soup before serving it to his friend

“Thanks” Miguel said hastily as he hungrily poured the soup into his mouth strong hunger blinding him from the option of using a spoon.

“Feeling anything?” Peter asked as Miguel started looking drowsy

“I feel…I feel tired. Fine. I’ll sleep” Miguel said grumpily as he couldn’t even keep himself upright needing peters help to get into you and Miguel’s shared bedroom.

As Miguel laid in bed the absence of you next to him haunted him as he drifted off to sleep.

Next thing Miguel knew he saw you in front of him in a nice green dress. Sitting on the corner of the bed as he stood in the frame of the bedroom door.

(He was clearly dreaming)

“Y/n I-“ he was speechless as he saw you beautiful as ever in that green dress he had never seen you wear before.

You look up to him a smile on your face “hey honey!” you say standing up to lock your arms around his neck playing with his hear on the back of his head.

Miguel leans his forehead on yours then pulling back to take your right hand to his cheek to kiss it.

“What’s wrong my love?” You say noticing held back tears in his eyes

“Are you still mad?” He asks you tears now streaming down his face

You cup his face whipping his tears as you say “about what?” Concern on your face

“It’s-it’s nothing” Miguel says as he just wants to enjoy your presence “Come to the kitchen mi amour” he says guiding you by your hand in his to the kitchen

“In a dress like that we need to dance to something!” Miguel remarks turning on the radio as Wildest Dreams by Taylor swift coincidentally plays

As you two dance in the kitchen time feels nonexistent Miguel’s eyes only seeing you in his arms not the world around him as the only thing that matters in this perfect moment is you and the music.

Radio: “you’ll see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night burning it down…someday when you leave me I bet these memories follow you around”

The music starts to fade repeating the words “follow you around” as you start disappearing as well until Miguel’s left in the silent dark kitchen alone.

Miguel instantly wakes up his bare chest full of sweat as his brain’s racing thinking about you as he realizes it was all a dream and you hadn’t forgiven him yet. He needed to get you back.

PT 3 OUT NOW

[livythewriter]

Quarantine AU (Elsbeth x Fem!Reader)

Word count: 2135

Warnings: Angst, talks of illness, blood, mentions of death, an unhappy ending but dw there will be part 2

Summary: You're in quarantine after being exposed to a deadly virus, when you meet an eccentric woman.

“I’m scared, what’s going to happen to me?” I heard a small voice in the cell next to mine. We were being quarantined because we tested positive for a mysterious virus that spread around the city. Either that, or, like me, some of the people in here were in quarantine for simply being around someone with the virus. I was in one of the ‘exposed but not yet positive’ cells, all alone. The coldness of the room made it difficult to focus on anything other than trying to stay warm.

‘I am in my happy place, I am in my happy place, I am in my happy place.’ I repeated to myself in my head as I thought of the most peaceful place I could be in, a place full of warmth and natural light, very much unlike the cold cell I was in lit by fluorescent lights.

My thoughts were interrupted by the door to my cell opening, and footsteps approaching. I opened my eyes to see an older woman with a bob cut around average height, being walked into my cell by a fully covered scientist.

The scientist left and closed the door, leaving me with the woman.

“Wow, it’s so cold in here! So, were you exposed to the virus as well?” The woman asked. I nodded. “I heard it has a 20% fatality rate, I hope we don’t have it…”

“Yeah…” I said.

“What’s your name?” She asked, “I’m Elsbeth. I’d shake your hand, but you know, gotta make sure we don’t give each other the virus if one of us has it and the other doesn’t!”

“I’m ___. Yeah, I totally get that. But either way, we probably both have it anyway..” I shrugged.

“Oh, you’re probably right. Still, just in case, you know?” She looked quite cheery despite potentially having a dangerous virus.

“It’s cold in here… I wish they’d give us blankets.” I had my arms wrapped around me for warmth.

“Yeah… good thing I’m wearing this sweater! And jacket! Who knew overdressing would actually help me someday?”

“That’s very good! I just wore a t-shirt because it was hot on the day I was exposed.” I explained.

“How long have you been here?” Elsbeth asked.

“Oh, I’ve been here for two days.” I said.

Elsbeth looked in thought for a moment, “Hmm, how long does the virus take to start showing symptoms again?”

“Three to seven days, I think.”

“Alright… I’ve never been in quarantine before, at least not like this… It’s a little scary! But hey, at least we have beds!” Elsbeth pointed to the bunk beds at the side of the cell.

“They’re uncomfortable as shit, but yeah.”

“Oh, they are? I remember one time I slept in this cheap hotel bed and it was so uncomfortable that I woke up the next day with aching all over even though I was only 23!” Elsbeth rambled.

“Oh, fascinating.” I went and sat on the bottom bunk.

“Wait actually, do you think I could take the bottom bunk? I’m a little afraid of heights…” Elsbeth said, looking sheepish.

“Um sure. But can I sit here until it’s time to go to bed anyway?” I asked.

“Of course you can! Can I sit next to you?”

“Yeah go ahead.” I patted the spot next to me, and she sat down on the bed.

“Wow you were right, this bed is uncomfortable… It makes the hotel bed I was in feel like it was made of memory foam!” Elsbeth bounced on the bed a few times while sitting.

I laughed, “See? I told you.”

“Oh, my body is going to hate me tomorrow… And the day after that, and the day after that… Until I get out. Well that is… if I get out.” She cringed a little, “I don’t wanna think about that…”

“It’ll be alright, even if you do get sick it’s only a 20% fatality rate, so chances are you’ll survive!” I assured her.

“That’s not really helping…” She said, chuckling nervously.

“Sorry…”

“So, how did you get exposed? Someone sneezed in my face during one of my investigations.”

“Oh, someone coughed blood in my mouth.” I said, not fond of the memory.

“Oh my god, that’s terrible!!! I am so sorry. I really hope you don’t end up getting it, now I’m all worried about you!” Elsbeth did look genuinely concerned.

“It’s alright, I hope I don’t die. Then I’d leave my pets behind. That’s what scares me. I love my pets so much.” I tried not to dwell on that scenario too much.

“I hope you don’t die either. You’re so much fun to talk to, and you seem so nice!”

“Well, I guess we’ll find out sometime in the next few days.”

“Maybe if worst comes to worst, I can take care of your pets. Or give them to a friend. I have a dog at home, the cutest little thing!”

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“His name’s Gonzo, and I just love him so much.”

“I bet he’s really cute.” I smiled.

“Yeah… By the way, you look so cold… Do you want my jacket?” She asked.

“I thought you didn’t want either of us catching it from each other?”

“Well… I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt. Here, please take it.” Elsbeth took off her jacket and handed it to me. I put it on, taking in the warmth.

“Thank you.” I gave her a grateful smile, but I looked over to see that she now seemed a bit cold.

“This sweater’s actually really thin…” Elsbeth wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.

“You can have the jacket back.” I said.

“Nonsense, I’ll survive a little cold!” But her shivering was hard to miss.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, scooting closer to her. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her a bit closer to me.

“W-What are you doing?” She looked at me, surprised.

“I just want to make sure you’re nice and warm.” I said.

“Oh uh, thank you! You really are nice…” She leaned her head against my shoulder, which made my brain malfunction for some reason.

We stayed like that for a bit, until one of the doctors brought in lunch for us. Lunch in quarantine was nothing to sneeze at, typically bland with cheap ingredients. We sat in silence eating our lunch, still next to each other on the bed.

“Do they have any books to read?” Elsbeth asked, “Me personally, I like a good murder mystery, even after I’ve had to solve them regularly.”

“Well, I can go ask if you want.”

“Oooh yes please, and ask if they have any crochet supplies too!”

“Will do. I don’t think they have crochet supplies though.” I got up and alerted one of the doctors, asking if they had either of the things Elsbeth wanted. Surprisingly, they had both.

A few books and crochet supplies were brought in, and I started reading a book.

Elsbeth sat down next to me, a little close as if she wanted to read as well, “You know, I’ve always wanted to read that book! Do you think I could read with you?”

“Oh sure, let me just flip to the first page.” I did that, and then positioned the book so both of us could read it. When Elsbeth finished reading a page, she would put her finger up, and if I was finished too, I would flip the page. It was a pretty efficient system. 

Only issue is, as I read the book, I started to notice how close we were to each other, and then it was all I could think about. So I found myself rereading lines of text so I could actually take in what was written on the page, which made me take extra long to turn the pages when Elsbeth was finished reading.

Luckily, she didn’t say anything, and I hoped I wasn’t annoying her with my slowness.

We spend the rest of that day reading, and the top bunk wasn’t so bad to sleep in – it was actually more comfortable than the bottom one. I made sure to tell Elsbeth that the next day, and she said her fear of heights greatly out measured any interests in a comfortable bed, so I ended up getting the top bunk anyway. We read next to each other for the next few days, me still unable to get my mind off of our close proximity for some reason.

On Elsbeth’s third day of quarantine, however, things started to go downhill.

It went like any other day – well any other day in quarantine – where I woke up, and climbed down from my bunk, inevitably waking up Elsbeth as she was quite the light sleeper.

“Good morning…” I heard Elsbeth groan out from her bed.

“Good morning.” I did some stretches while I was up. Elsbeth got up and joined me in the stretches. One thing we had in common was that we were both physically active, so stretching wasn’t an uncommon part of our routine in quarantine.

“Is it just me, or is this cell extra cold?” Elsbeth asked me while doing toe touches.

“Not really, but I am wearing your jacket so maybe I’m just a little extra warm. Do you want your jacket back?” I offered.

“Oh no, that’s alright! I want you to be warm, you’re the one wearing a T-shirt.” She waved her hand dismissively.

“Well uhh… If you want, we could snuggle up for warmth.” There was a chance I was taking the opportunity to snuggle with her so much because it had been a while since I had actually cuddled with someone, but that’s a topic for another day.

“Sure!” We huddled together once more for warmth, enjoying each other’s presence.

“Your company has been so nice…” Elsbeth murmured.

“I could say the same about you. Not a boring moment with you, Elsbeth.” I said.

“You think I’m interesting?”

“Mhm…”

“I think you’re interesting too… I like reading with you, even though you read kind of slo-” She was cut off by a sudden coughing fit. She coughed intensely into the crook of her elbow, wheezing between rattling coughs. I froze as my mind went to the worst of places, and my fears were confirmed as I caught a glimpse of the crook of her elbow and saw blood on her sweater.

“Oh no… Does this mean I’m sick?” She asked, the usual color and joy gone from her voice.

“I think so…” I didn’t know how to react, whether to be angry, sad, to laugh, or do nothing. A rush of dread hit me, and I just sat there, looking ahead. I knew I was gonna have to tell one of the doctors, so they could take her to the sick ward, but a selfish part of me didn’t want to, a part of me didn’t want them to take her away from me, because what if I never saw her again?

“___… We need to tell the doctors.” Elsbeth snapped me out of my spiraling trance.

“Okay… But…”

“But what…?”

“I’m scared.” I admitted.

“You probably won’t get sick, don’t worry.” She assured me.

“No. I’m scared for you.”

“I’ll be fine! Like you said, it’s only a 20% fatality rate!”

“That’s too high!” That admittedly came out harsher than I originally intended, and I immediately apologized for my tone.

“I’ll be fine, okay? Worry about your own health, not mine.” Elsbeth’s hand rubbed up and down my arm soothingly, “I’ll tell you what, if I survive this, which I probably will, I’ll reach out to you. Give me your number so I can do that.”

“Okay.” I gave her my number, and out of nowhere she took out a pen and wrote it on the back of her hand.

“This ink is really strong so even if they make me wash my hands, it won’t come off for a while. Once I’m out of quarantine I’ll call you, or text you.”

“Okay…” My eyes started to fill with tears as I nodded.

“Please stay safe… And here, since we should probably be keeping our distance now…” She got up, took a few steps back from me, and blew me a kiss, then went to tell the doctors about her condition. A few tears fell down my face as we said our last goodbyes and the doctors whisked her away to the sick ward, and the fact that this might be my last time ever seeing her wouldn’t leave my mind. Now that I was all alone, that was the only thing I could think about.

I spent the rest of that day only thinking about Elsbeth Tascioni, and the hole she left behind now that she was gone.

[myrsinemezzo]

Writing Interview Tag Game!

Thank you so much @klynnvakarian for the tag!

About Me:

When did you start writing?

I've written academic stuff for years, but I didn't start writing fiction until I was ...37 ?!? I didn't think I had it in me but now it's just flooding out.

Are there different genres or themes you enjoy reading other than the ones you write?

Yes indeed. I honestly love a good dose of dead dove and tension in general, but my god I cannot write it for the life of me. I try and I just can't write truly horrific psychological or physical things. Some of my fics have skirted the edges, but that's the best I can do. I leave that to amazing writers like @bad-surprise who wrote one of my favorite ever fics, the complex "the shark in your water" and vuas whose fics are just scrumptiously disturbing or @thecoziestbean with "meet me at the edge" with its tense atmosphere.

Is there an author you want to emulate, or are compared to often?

I would love to emulate Robin McKinley whose intimacy and description and interiority really influenced me growing up. I don't think I'm there yet, but I like to experiment with fic style, so maybe someday.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I love to write anywhere and everywhere in my house and outside at work. I write and edit both on my phone on the Dabble writing platform (which I highly recommend) and on my laptop since seeing the words in different layouts helps me catch things I might have missed.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Gotta be music. I put on a single track for an hour or two (or three) and get plunged into a state with all that repetition that lets me be incredibly focused. Hozier is so good for that as well as boygenius, Florence + the Machine, and Taylor Swift for me. Poor Mr. Mezzo, basically. I run songs into the ground!

Are there any reoccurring themes in your writing? If so do they surprise you?

I don't think I have enough self-awareness to pick them out myself haha although I do have to watch out for phrases I tend to repeat like "no small amount of X" or things like that. I also lean into smut. A lot. Maybe too much? Maybe just right? Who can say.

Characters:

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character?

I love writing Elrond. I never expected it, but he's such a canny character that I'm really enjoying my current chapter of my Rings of Power canon fic now that he's turned up to have battles of words with Sauron.

Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?

Arondir and Bronwyn would be my besties, I think.

Which characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

I don't honestly know! Probably the way I've written Galadriel's mother Eärwen in past fics. I worked out a lot of parental traumas in those where she's just... awful.

Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters?

My main characters never look where they leap in my fics. Sometimes that's because they're brave and sometimes that's because they run headlong "like a colt in full gallop" in Galadriel's case ;) I also can't stay away from Enemiese to Lovers. Ever.

How do you picture your characters?

I can visualize clothes and physical traits and thought patterns in my characters more than facial features. There's just vague actor-ish facial features, but mostly just hair color to distinguish them.

My Writing:

What’s your reason for writing?

I've always loved to fall into different worlds with reading. It's not so different with writing. There's a real joy in stepping out of my own life to have adventures and grand love affairs.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment from readers that you find particularly motivating?

I love getting the phrase "Second kudos" and just a string of hearts. It always makes me smile. Long comments deconstructing and analyzing what happens are lovely too, of course. Comments are wonderful, but they also don't motivate me as much as the sheer love of seeing characters talk to each other in my head in some ways, though.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I'd love to be an escape outlet for my readers as much as my fellow writer friends are to me and all the other reading I do.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I think it's (maybe) the stubbornness in coming back to writing every time I fall off the horse and feel like I'll never write again when it's been a week or two. I know so many of us writers feel that feeling.

Have you been told what is your greatest strength as a writer is by others?

I'm not sure, and I should keep track with gathering up kind comments to go back to look at, but maybe smut? lol. Or modern AU cute vibes in my farmers market and musician fics. My beloved Mr. Mezzo read one of my fics recently for the first time and said "It was like I could hear you reading it to me" so maybe a storytelling quality.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I am always pleasantly surprised when I go back and reread my own work. Even back in the beginning, I had tones of voice for characters that were what I wanted to get across.

When you write are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or is it a mix of both?

Not really influenced by others except when I'm feeling unsure like when I started Across That Fine Line and felt insecure about lore and such. I took requests in some ways then, although it turned out alright in the end and I don't do that as much now with letting reader comments shape things. Still, @stitchingatthecircuitboard made a comment on that fic recently and it changed the vibe of a few chapters a Ton, so maybe I'm a liar haha. But seriously, sometimes readers wondering where it will go can spark a new idea, and that's lovely.

Thanks again for the tag @klynnvakarian and I'm going to tag @thecoziestbean, @bad-surprise, @stitchingatthecircuitboard, @softlighter, and @thrillofhope because I would love to hear your thoughts on writing. No pressure at all, though, since writing is such an intimate act!

[demonslayedher]

Things that ran through my head while watching this episode (gotta keep it brief while I'm out of town):

--I still love the Tanjiro .vs. Enmu fight atop the train, it uses the dynamics of a classic train battle and the repeated sleeping and waking effects in such a convincing and exciting way. That last chomp of the watery dragon head as Enmu's head comes off is such a statement.

--The TV version really goes ham on that first effort Tanjiro makes to wake himself. I like both versions for their different dramatic effects.

--I wonder if Nezuko stays small because being inside the train feels similar to being inside her box?

--I still find it funny how Tanjiro is like, "that's the smell of Nezuko's Blood Technique, she bleeding somewhere, Nezuko is bleeding!" and he has absolutely no clue what part he played in this. Anyone among the Corp who says demons don't feel pain needs to witness what happened here. Someday while the kids are kicking back at home Nezuko's going to be like, "hey, remember that time when I was little and I was trying to get you to wake up, but you wouldn't, so I headbutted you? And then I lit you on fire?" and Tanjiro would be like, "what? No?? Wouldn't that had hurt you? Was your head ok, Nezuko---what? Oh. On a mission, you mean?"

--While Nezuko was burning the ropes, Tanjiro had to have been doing something to safely seperate Rengoku and Miss Braids. It was probably a delicate operation and involved coaching like, "here, Rengoku-san, uhh, please sit down."

--The cut to red and Rokuta's screams always gets me. Going by his expressions, Tanjiro really is overwhelmed by this dream at first, not just for the shocking imagery, but because it probably draws on some of his own feelings of guilt and uselessness. However, his mother's words cursing him for still being alive are both so unlike her to say and so not what's in Tanjiro's heart that Enmu has no power over him (sure would have taken down a Pillar or two, though).

--I'm a little tired of TB Boy for one reason, and one reason alone:

[recurring-polynya]

Renruki Week Day 2: Hot Springs

I wrote this some time ago, with the intent that it would someday fit into a longer TYBW fanfic, but I really like it, and it fit today’s Renruki Week prompt of Hot Springs and fits into the recent episodes of the anime. Maybe someday I’ll work it into the real final chapter of Heart is a Muscle, but that’s ages away, so you might as well enjoy it now!

| ao3 | ff.net |

♨ ♨ ♨

  As Renji checked over his shihakushou for the thousandth time-- tightening his wrist wraps, tugging on his sword knot, he glanced over at Kurosaki, squatting at the edge of the hot spring. He couldn't see the kid's face, and he was too far away to pick out individual words of the conversation, but he could tell from the tone and cadence of the voices that Ichigo and Rukia were trash-talking each other.

  Renji was glad. He was grateful, actually, unspeakably grateful to Ichigo, not just for showing up in the nick of time to save Soul Society once again, but for being here in the Royal Realm, for talking and laughing with Rukia, for giving Renji the cover to get the Hell out of here. He just wished they'd managed to escape a few hours earlier.

Renji had felt it, of course, the moment Rukia woke up. Her reiatsu had spiked wildly, exploding outwards in a panicked tidal wave until it washed over his own and abruptly calmed. Renji knew that relief. He had felt it himself after waking in sheer terror, his heart threatening to burst through the cage of his chest in the few seconds before he was able to feel both Byakuya and Rukia close at hand, his captain and the other half of his soul, unconscious, but blessedly, miraculously alive.

That didn't mean he was ready to talk to her.

Kurosaki said something that sounded like a farewell, and stood up, cracking his back. He sauntered over to Renji, and jerked a thumb back towards the spring. "Your turn."

"We gotta go," Renji grumbled, adjusting Zabimaru against his hip one more time.

Ichigo gave him a look that was half disbelief and half disgust. "She asked for you," he repeated, and Renji knew he was lost, there was no arguing with that. "Take as much time as you need, man. We're in a hurry, but we're not in that much of a hurry," Ichigo called to Renji's back, and Renji flinched at the easy kindness in the kid's tone. Renji didn't deserve this adolescent goon as a friend any more than Soul Society deserved him as a savior.

Rukia had her arms crossed, propped up on the stones that ringed the healing spring. She bore the folded towel draped over her head as regally as a tiara. Through her exhaustion, there was a contented happiness on her face, a momentary peace in having her important people around her, a peace that Renji couldn't bring himself to share.

"Hey there, y'big dummy," she greeted him. "Get down here so I can see you."

Renji squatted down, resting his forearms across his thighs. “Hey, there, y'little dummy," he replied gently. "Whaddya want? Ichigo and I got places to go, heads to crack open."

"You better wait for me to catch up before you go back down there," Rukia warned. She made a very Kuchiki-like face. "I'm trusting you to keep an eye on my boy, okay? I'm taking care of your captain for you, so you owe me." She jerked her head back toward the spring, where an unconscious Byakuya slumped against a rock.

"Rukia…" Renji started, not even sure of what he was going to say.

"Listen to me, Abarai," Rukia said, suddenly very serious. "We both know you shoulda stayed in here a little longer. I'm gonna let that slide, but you gotta promise me you'll take your time and get trained up right. You think I don't know what's going on in your thick skull right now, but I do, and I need you to listen.

"You did your best. Those guys beat Brother. They beat the Captain-Commander, Renji. You. Did. Your. Best." Rukia's eyes locked with his own, big and serious and beautiful. "You gotta put what happened behind you and concentrate on making your best better. You're really good at that, Renji, but sometimes you panic and think it would be better to just sacrifice yourself, throw yourself in the path of a sword meant for someone else. Don't do that." There was exasperation in her voice, but something else, too. Fear. Fear that he was gonna blow this, Renji supposed. Rukia furrowed her brows. "You're strong and you can get stronger, and you're important. We're gonna need you at your strongest when we pound these guys back into the shadows they crawled out of. So take care o' yourself, y'hear me?"

"Okay," Renji agreed.

Rukia scowled for a moment, and then stood up.

Renji kept his eyes glued to her face with the discipline of a career soldier.

Rukia reached out and wrapped her hand against the line of his jaw, her thumb resting gently on his cheek. "And my brother needs you, Lieutenant Abarai, and so do I. So wait for me before you do anything stupid, you got it?"

Renji swallowed thickly. "Got it."

"Promise me, Renji."

Renji closed his eyes and leaned, just for a moment, into her hand. "I promise." He opened his eyes again. She was studying his face, looking for what, he didn't know.

Whether or not she found it, she made a little sigh, and slipped back down into the water again.

Renji might have the discipline of a soldier, but he also had the lightning reflexes of one. His eyes flicked down and then back up again, just fast enough to catch a glimpse of something he could reflect on happily in his dying moments if the next few days didn't go so well.

"I saw that," Rukia noted dryly, but she seemed more amused than angry.

"Like you wouldn'ta spent that entire conversation blatantly staring at my package if our situations were reversed," he returned.

"I wasn't criticizing you for being an opportunist, I was making fun of you for trying to be sneaky and failing."

Renji smiled fondly at her. Not for the first time, he felt immensely grateful to have been a part of her life, even if he had never managed to make himself worthy of telling her how much she meant to him. He had come close. So close. "Take care, Ru," he bid her. "I'll catch you on the flipside."

"It's a date," she agreed.

As Renji stood and prepared to go, there was a brief, jarring spike of reiatsu, like a stutter in reality itself.

Byakuya cracked one eye painfully open. "Lieutenant," he croaked, his voice faint and caked with rust. "Come here."

"Brother, you're not ready to be up yet," Rukia scolded. "You need to be resting!"

Resigned to his fate, Renji made his way around the perimeter of the spring. Naturally, trying to sneak a glance at his sister's tits would bring Captain Kuchiki back from the dead. Renji was happy enough to accept his dress-down, though-- he'd take a dozen scathing lectures on propriety and then cheerfully scrub the floors of every training room in Squad 6, just as a reminder that his captain was still alive.

"Down here, Abarai," Captain Kuchiki commanded through slitted eyes.

As Renji crouched low on the bank, a damp hand clamped onto the back of his neck, fingertips like brands digging into his flesh, pulling him almost nose-to-nose with his captain.

Byakuya was not well. His reiatsu was uncontrolled at best, non-existent at worst. Nevertheless, his closeness, his presence, forced all the air from Renji's lungs. Renji was a kid again, gangly in his student robes, standing frozen in an Academy doorway, unable to move, unable to even think.

"If you return to the battlefield before I, Abarai," Byakuya wheezed, "Give. Them. Hell."

Renji's lip curled into a fangy, humorless smile. "Sir, yes, sir."

Byakuya gave the smallest of nods, then closed his eyes and leaned back again. The iron grip on Renji's neck loosened, and Renji reached up to lower Byakuya's hand back down into the water.

He looked up and realized that Rukia was watching him, her eyes soft. “I’ll keep him out of trouble,” she promised.

Good luck with that, Renji wanted to say, except that he wasn’t entirely sure if Byakuya was still conscious or not. “You just focus on healing up,” he said instead. “I’m not gonna wait forever for you, you know.”

“Ha,” barked Rukia. “We’ll just see about that.”