#sometimes it really hurts more that they’re well intentioned
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#sometimes it really hurts more that they’re well intentioned#and love me and want me to be part of the family still#than if they didn’t try to keep me included at all#like just. it just is rough that they’ll never acknowledge I’m living with a partner and committed#and have been in the relationship for years#they want me to come be a part of things and they want me to be happy and#they send a congrats on your new home card but don’t mention her. they include me in a family vacation jigsaw puzzle but not her even though#i told them I won’t lie to the kids and that she and I are a package deal for family parties and things if we do come into town for them#I can’t stop trying because I’ve seen them be so diffferent with the grandkids than to me on some things#and I’ve seen some of them treating me pretty normal despite everything about their beliefs#but I just#don’t know how many years it’ll take for me to learn to navigate this weird zone#I can’t talk to friends because they don’t understand how good and genuine my family is and only know the parts that hurt me in the past yrs#and I can’t talk to family because they get how good my family is at the heart of things but can’t understand the bad parts enough to#get how half of me wished I could never have to remember any of the good because it’s hard to protect myself if I do#but the line between black and white has to be walked#even if ONLY for my own sake because I have to un train black and white thinking from every area of my worldview#but anyway#it’s just hard. nothing particularly to be done about it. I just need to say it’s hard sometimes#it doesn’t seem to hurt less each time#it’s the same#but I think I’m getting better at not letting it affect my actual daily experience for as long now#idk#it’s hard. it will be for a long time. it’s worth trying anyway.#I know we’re double nope in that we’re queer and we’re not even civil married much less sacramentally married#so we’re in like five separate levels of mortal sin yadda yadda#but I tell you x hurts and you do x again and it sucks. I see you improving in other ways so I have hope but GOD it sucks right now. fuck#shh katie#personal
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I know how it sounds at first, but I really gotta feel bad for the boys that sacrificed edwin; I mean even the term “sacrificed edwin” paints them in a more sinister light than they really deserve– considering that wasn’t really, actually their intention.
they were bullies, they were homophobic (and/or were self loathing gay boys themselves taking it out on edwin, or were equally likely peer pressured into acting a certain way), they planned something stupid and mean to do to an innocent, anxious boy with the goal of scaring the shit out of him, all because he was effeminate and an easy target. but they didn’t know or expect any of the ritual stuff to be real. they were all laughing and joking during the ritual because it was just that to them– a joke. a cruel joke, but a joke.
teenagers can be mean and stupid and they usually regret it as adults and grow out of it / grow from it. they were stifled the chance to grow out of it, at least while alive. none of those boys deserved to be instakilled and sent to hell; they’re really not that much less deserving than edwin himself. they were all just kids, after all.
#random thought but. yeah……#I mean think about if crystal happened to be killed somehow pre-demonic intervention#she would’ve been deemed deserving of hell by the standards we’ve seen. no doubt about it. if the dragon guys were pulled to hell then yeah.#she would be as well. simply put- she was a bully#she was also a teenager. not a fully developed person. a very damaged and neglected teenager at that#it’s kinda like the criminal justice system right. it’s like. hey you really think sending them to be tormented is the most humane and#efficient way to heal these kids of what makes them act out and allow them to grow and improve?#Crystal’s such a good case to look at because she’s. well. to compare to The Good Place which you can probably already tell I’ve watched 800#times and adore with all my heart. she’s kinda the michael of the group#no one knows it at first but she’s actually kind of a terror to people most of the time. but she’s put in a situation where she#suddenly has a support system- people who care about her and want the best for her- she’s given a purpose and realizes how much better it is#to use her powers to help rather than hurt (well. sometimes helping can involve hurting but you get it)#and by the time she’s regained her memories and has a place in the agency it’s much easier to reflect on her life and be like huh!#this system kinda fucking sucks!#not that edwin wasn’t an example unto himself but he was a ‘clerical error’ not a ‘rightfully’ condemned person#with his situation someone could argue that the problem isn’t with the system being wack as a whole- it should just be maintained better so#these ‘errors’ don’t happen and all the good kids go to their afterlives and the Bad Evil Kids go to hell.#yes yes I know they’re not in hell forever (hopefully) but uhh Simon was still there for over a century and for fucking What?#gay self-loathing and catholic guilt? his intentions were clearly not Truly Evil and more than anything he seems to have been punished using#how much he hated himself for being gay and how guilty he felt for it all. like shit aren’t those feelings enough of a punishment? if he had#lived through that ritual and edwin hadn’t– do you think he would’ve been Okay? I think it would’ve crushed him. chronically#man. anyway#this was an especially long ramble huh#rambling#edwin#edwin payne#dead boy detectives
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love you till my lungs give out
paige bueckers x reader
word count- 2k(lord)
notes: this fic was such a great write for me, as it focuses around eating disorders, which is something i’ve personally struggled with. i know this is a sensitive topic, so please, if this makes you uncomfortable, scroll away, or read at your own risk.
thanks to: literally the biggest thanks ever to @melpthatsme for dming me your idea and helping me work through it, i really could not have done this without you, so everyone thank them
also thanks to @imaginespazzi and @bueckersstrap for reacting to my random messages about this
—
the first time it happened, i barely realized i did it.
“paigey, my head hurts so bad right now. like, im gonna die right here,” i groan, hiding my face in the fabric of her hoodie, trying to lock out any stray amounts of light coming from the covered windows. she runs her hand through my hair, and starts to ever-so-gently massage my temples. i sigh in quiet relief, and then she tries to pull me up to lay on top of her.
“uh uh, paige, no,” i say. i try to shake my head at her, but a bolt of pain flies through me, forcing my head back down.
“jus’ tryna help you get comfy, ma,” she whispers, bundling me up in a blanket and pulling me back into her side. she moves her warm hands up and under my t-shirt, but i squirm about, complaining that they’re too cold, even though i’ve never felt anything more soft and warm, so she moves them back over my shirt. but i don’t notice it, not really. and neither does she.
the second time, i know what i did.
“so, what should we order to eat?” paige asks, scrolling on her phone for different options.
“mm, what if i cooked here, for something different! i can make you a grilled cheese,” i joke, nudging her arm with my shoulder. “that’s all i know how to cook anyway.”
she giggles, standing up with me and following me to the kitchen. she hoists herself onto the counter, and watches me intently as i pull out the things for a sandwich. i grin at her, moving to step in between her legs and take her face in my hands.
“you’re so cute,” i say, pressing a kiss to her nose. she hops off of the counter and follows me to the stove. paige is just too sweet to me sometimes. i’m cooking dinner for her, the least i can do, really, and she’s cozied up behind me, arms around my waist her hands are barely touching, she can barely fit them around me and her chin is resting softly on my shoulder. she’s pressing light pecks to whatever area she can reach, and i feel at peace, in the kitchen, for a few moments. then it stops.
“why aren’t you making one for yourself baby?” she asks, spinning me around to lean me against the countertop, forgetting her sandwich beside her.
“i’m feeling, um, nauseous,” i stutter, stumbling over the excuse. she lets me go, though she looks skeptical.
“cmon, just have a bite of mine then. baby, you really need to eat more, that’s probably why you haven’t been feeling very well lately.”
i allow her to feed me a small bite, then quickly use my fingers to silently add that to whatever else i ate today. i read somewhere that to lose weight, you need to burn more calories that you eat. tomorrow, i need to burn around 800. Well, 804 now.
the third time, i think paige noticed something was up.
“ma, this is literally the fourth time you’ve said that you’re cold. just take my fucking hoodie, i’m actually begging you,” she pleads, taking it off and offering it up to me. i shake my head, again, and press myself further into her chest, rubbing my arms to try and make the goosebumps disappear. she pulls me into her, then moves her mouth to my ear.
“is everything okay baby? do you wanna go home?” she whispers, nuzzling my neck with her nose. i shrug, not wanting to make her leave if she wasn’t done chatting with people yet. she makes the decision for me, standing up and tugging me with her. her hand finds its way to the small of my back, and she guides me towards the door. i sway slightly as we stand, blood rushing to my head. i take it as my lack of protein, or anything really, catching up to me. she stops walking, lurching to grab me by both shoulders and bend to eye level with me.
“darling, i want you to be honest with me. what have you eaten today?” i shake my head, feeling my cheeks going red at the thought of her confronting me. i look down, trying to avoid eye contact with her as my eyes fill with tears. she wraps me up into a hug, planting a kiss to the top of my head. she pulls me to the car and helps me in, then climbs into her own door, but makes no move to turn the car on. instead she pulls out her phone and asks me “so, where do you wanna stop and pick up food on our way home?”
“paige, i’m really not that hungry, just tired and need to be with you in bed for the night. can we please just go home?”
she nods, but looks at me skeptically out of the corner of her eye. she must know that all i’ve eaten today is half an energy drink and a piece of gum. i’ll eat something with her tomorrow, i guess. we can go out to lunch together and then when she goes to the gym ill go on a run. then she’ll see that im okay.
the fourth time, or probably the fifth or sixth, really, i don’t notice it, so i don’t think she does either.
“cmere pretty,” paige mumbles, reaching her arms out to me from where she’s laying on the bed. i slowly move to lay next to her, but roll away when she tries to take my sweater off.
“hey, baby, what?” she whines, apparently frustrated by the lack of contact.
“i wanna leave it on, paigey,” i tell her, moving my hand into the waistband of her shorts.
“but i wanna see you, please baby,” i don’t like saying no to her, but this is one thing i very rarely back down on.
“uh uh, sorry. lemme taste you, though,” i respond, moving to tug her shorts down.
“nah, come and sit on my face, cutie.” she smirks at her own words, but i’m not laughing. i scramble off the bed, standing up to black spots in my vision. i stand still, squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the feeling. i stay there for im not sure how long, when i feel strong arms loop around my shoulders and help me onto the bed. paige helps me lay down, placing my head in her lap, then starts to comb through my hair with her fingers. she doesn’t say anything, and i’m grateful for that. obviously, she just thinks im tired. she knows im okay.
this time, im sure she noticed. it would be hard not to.
i’ve just come home from a run to the gym, dripping in sweat. it’s part of my new routine. i jog a mile and a half to the gym, i walk on a stairmaster or inclined treadmill there, then run home. normally i leave when paige leaves for practice, and come home just as she’s getting home, if not a little before so i can shower before she gets here. today, i must’ve done a little too much, because by the time i walk in the door, my head is spinning. i walk into the kitchen, sitting down at the island and resting my head in my hands, trying to clear my vision. i don’t hear when the door opens.
“baby, are you okay?” i hear. i sit up quickly, startled, then put my head back down immediately, because my vision goes nearly dark again.
“mhm, just tired you know? just got back from a run.”
“you’ve got to take a rest day sometimes, darling,” she coos, taking my face into her hands and pressing a kiss to my nose. i nod, knowing i won’t do it.
sometimes i don’t realize it, but she knows exactly what to do.
i’ve just finished cooking dinner, just some simple spaghetti and a salad. i place her bowl of noodles in front of her, then settle down with my salad. when i stand up to get a glass of water, then come back, i can’t help but notice she’s switched our bowls.
“paigey, could i, possibly, maybe, have my bowl back?” i ask, trying to seem lighthearted.
“oh, yeah, sure,” she answers, sliding it back towards me. but when i try to slide hers back, she stops me.
“nah, you eat that too. seems like you forgot to serve yourself noodles, so ill go make myself a new bowl.” she stands up, but i scramble in front of the stove quicker, blocking her way.
“why would you do that, when i made you a whole bowl? eat it,” i tell her, pointing back to the countertop. she lunges at me, lifting me easily and placing me on the countertop. why would she pick me up? she definitely thought i was too heavy. i bet she leaves after this. she drags her my bowl over, twirls a few noodles onto the fork, and begins to prod my mouth with it.
“cmon honey, just a bite. it’s not like it’s poison, you literally just cooked it,” she presses. i start to shake my head, so she moves the fork and instead swoops in for a kiss. i return her advances eagerly. hoping it distracts her. she moves her head down, pressing open mouthed kisses to my neck, and my mouth falls open. i don’t realize she’s noticed that until she’s setting the forkful of food between my lips and lightly closing them.
“it’s one bite, ma. let’s get it eaten, then you can be done.” i chew, not really having the choice to run and spit it out. once i swallow, she beams at me.
“such a good girl, baby. i’m so proud of you.”
at some point, she wins
“come here now, baby,” paige demands, grasping me by the waist and yanking me in front of her. i’d been about to climb into the shower when she spotted me through the bathroom mirror, stripped down to nothing. she’d grabbed me, pulled me into my room, and positioned us in front of the full-length mirror to the side.
“you see how perfect you are? how pretty?” she mumbles into my ear. i let my eyes flutter shut as she snakes her hand down my body, stopping to circle her finger over my clit. a groan slips out from my lips, and she stops.
“alright, i want you to keep on looking right in the mirror, ma. want you to see how perfectly you take my fingers.” i writhe against her, trying to keep my eyes open and hold myself up at the same time. she plunges three fingers into me. i cry out, locking eyes with her in the mirror, she smirks, the same way she always does when drawing a climax from me. i go boneless. if she hadn’t been holding me so tightly, i would be on the floor.
“now can you see how amazing you are? you don’t gotta change anything about you, i’ll love you no matter what. you should stop listening to what others say, because people that love you, like me, want you, no matter what you look like. i, personally, think you’re perfect. i’ll love you till the day my lungs give out, and even then, i’ll use my last breath to say it again.”
after that, it happens less often. some days, i still forget to eat, and some days even looking at a scale makes me want to throw up. but paige is always there. she’s always there to hold me, or help me eat just a little bit, or to help me lay down and relax after i’ve panicked so hard ive puked into the toilet. one day, looking at her from across the couch, i realize that when she told me she’d love me no matter what, she was telling the truth.
#mutuals💀#paige bueckers#ask#uconn wbb#paige bueckers x reader#cellythe”goat”#celly😗#i love you sisterwifey forever <3#anons😗
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Astrology Observations 🌴
air venus/air mars are usually the type of people to fall for the friends or find nothing wrong with having a fwb (friend with benefits)
venus touching the ascendant (no matter the aspect) can manifest a beautiful appearance (same with mars but with mars, i would say this gives more of a sex appeal vibe)
scorpio moon/mars definitely wins the title for holding grudges the longest/being the most unforgivable if you cross them
i realized that a lot of aries mercury people don’t really think before they speak😂
taurus mercury people are those type of people to repeat what they already said just to make sure everyone understood
my gemini mercury people.. i know how hard it is for you to stay focused. you’re doing great reading this sweetie
cancer mercury people have craaazy intuition
if you’re looking for someone to tell a good story, find you a leo mercury!! these people are such good story tellers 😂
virgo mercury people can be brutally honest people when giving advice, which can hurt people in the process but that’s not their intention most of the time!
if you need a mediator during an argument, find u a libra mercury. they’re always looking at both sides of an argument
scorpio mercury people can become very rude/disrespectful if they feel annoyed or bothered. especially if they have sag/cap placements.. scary
sagittarius mercury people almost always come off as too blunt
capricorn mercury people, how often are you put in leadership positions? 🤔
aquarius mercury people and their way of coming up with ideas no one else could think of >>
pisces mercury people.. you and that imagination of yours. always in your head. i know you enjoy living in your imagination dont you (my neptune 3rd house can relate so you’re not alone lol)
taurus moon + scorpio venus lovers >>
the best omg this guy that im talking to right now has this combo and he’s always spoiling me with gifts, mind you we’re not even dating 😂 and they’re SO observant. like i play my music around him sometimes and yesterday he literally surprised me with a playlist of my favorite songs & his favorite songs (he’s moving away so he made it for me to listen while he’s gone when i miss him 💔) but wow. if you want real love, these people are it
pluto 4th house people.. how’s your family/home life?
pluto 1st house people.. how many times has it felt like you killed your old self just to make a new one? coming back stronger and stronger each time of course
im soo tired of this gemini venus slander and saying WE CHEAT! we dont cheat we just lose interest fast if you’re boring or fail to keep our brains stimulated. just dont be monotone/boring, make us laugh & we’ll be willing to work on the connection 😁 its also just that we dont really deal well with a bunch of intense emotions being thrown at us. give us time
capricorn moon people.. are you ok? and dont lie to me
scorpio suns.. how is your relationship with your father?
i saw someone say how saturn in 1st house people hate the inverted filter & they were nott wrong. my sister has this placement and she despises it. always picking at every single flaw she has whole time she looks fine lol
#astrology#astro community#astro notes#astro placements#astrology observations#air venus#venus ascendant#mars ascendant#scorpio moon#scorpio mars#aries mercury#taurus mercury#gemini mercury#cancer mercury#leo mercury#virgo mercury#libra mercury#scorpio mercury#sagittarius mercury#capricorn mercury#aquarius mercury#pisces mercury#taurus moon#gemini venus#capricorn moon#saturn 1st house#scorpio#pluto 1st house#pluto 4th house
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soap who grew up with a grandmother who constantly warned him about all the kinds of fae folk that existed, how to tell if someone was something, how to avoid them and how to fend for himself were anything to happen.
as a child, he soaked up all of her stories with awe, keeping all the rules in mind. as a teenager, he’d secretly roll his eyes but go along with her words to appease her. obviously fae folk weren’t real.
as an adult, not seeing her so often, he kind of… forgets. the stories and rules stay dormant in the back of his mind, never completely lost, but they’re not relevant anymore—at least, so he thinks. it’s all been dumbed down to fae folk are bad, and that’s about all he needs. soap goes years without so much as thinking the word fae, and his life goes on just as normally as anyone could have anticipated.
or, well. as normal as it can get, being in the sas.
and then he’s invited to join an elite task force, and that’s where he meets ghost.
soap doesn’t think it’s too odd to regard ghost as strange right away, not with the whole mask and mysterious persona thing, but as he gets to know the lieutenant more, there are certain things that start to have soap on edge. that have him thinking about fae lore more than he has in years.
like how his eyes reflect light like a cat’s at just the right angle. or how sometimes the way he talks just sounds off, almost like he’s trying to mimic someone else. the first and only time soap sees ghost’s face, there’s something uncanny about it that he can’t quite put a finger on. the tells continue to add up as soap starts to really look, and while he could never say exactly what ghost is, soap is sure as hell he isn’t human.
but the thing is… ghost isn’t bad. not in the way soap’s grandmother had warned him fae folk would be, at least. sure, ghost is a damn good soldier who’s garnered quite the kill count through various honed, deadly skills, but he isn’t bad. or evil, soap should say—even with questionable decisions, ghost’s heart always seems to be in the right place. he doesn’t have bad intentions unless something involves getting revenge, and he doesn’t unnecessarily hurt people just for the sake of his own entertainment.
it’s all confusing for soap, to say the least. his conflicting knowledge leaves him wondering if he should be trusting ghost, even in spite of the plentiful times ghost has proven he’s trustworthy. soap wonders if he should say something, wonders if he should drop hints he knows, wonders if ghost would be dropping an act the moment he’s been made.
the conclusion is pretty anticlimactic, all things given.
ghost catches soap alone after soap has had his realizations, having immediately noticed something off about the sergeant—which isn’t right, because soap is the human. he asks if something’s the matter, soap spills everything, and ghost doesn’t even flinch. just tells soap that his suspicions are justified, because ghost is a changeling.
“you’d admit it, just like that?” soap asks, dumbfounded.
ghost offers a stiff shrug, and no further explanation. he leaves soap feeling stunned, returning to whatever it is changelings do in their down time.
as if that didn’t open a whole new can of worms. as if a dam wouldn’t burst, and a million questions would come flooding into soap’s mind.
maybe he should pay a visit to his grandmother some time soon. it’d be nice to know whether he’s now in danger of being eaten, or something. soap can’t remember.
and now somehow, for some reason, soap has a burning desire to get to know ghost even better.
maybe ghost is evil, despite all prior judgements.
(or maybe soap is just in denial about a few things. but one thing at a time.)
#later down the line soap is gonna be panicking about how to introduce his fae bf to his grandma#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#soapghost#ghostsoap#ghost x soap#ghoap#alternate universe
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I can’t stop talking about Byler fighting. I truly can’t. Because it’s the greatest evidence for me that they’re endgame if not also incredibly compatible.
Their arguments do not ring with an air of “get away from me.” They’re not telling each other, “you’re my enemy.” They sound more like “what’s wrong? Talk to me,” and, “you’re my best friend. I want to keep what we have.” And what’s wilder yet is that they don’t lack in understanding with each other. They understand each other so well that one of them has to retreat.
This is what happens when you become so overwhelmed that you have to step away from the emotion - and would a truly hateful fight end like this? Look, the answer is partly yes, but when you then look at how these two come back together, there’s an active pursuit, a turning back - specifically from Mike both times - where repentance is sought after. And that’s where we veer away from hatred and into love.
Love does this. Love fights and hits right where it hurts and sometimes goes way too far, but then in the end, you don’t pull away. You don’t just leave it or come back angry and want to stake your claim, you think about what’s been done and grow from it. And I think that Mike’s apology in s4e4 was the single greatest moment of growth for him as a character. As was Will’s acceptance of his apology and trying to apologize, too.
I think that where the general audience get mixed up is that Mike and Will’s fights end on a sour note. They always look like they get cut short, they’re obviously talking about El, oh, they’re clearly trying to get away from each other and can’t finish their thoughts.
But you can’t just stop there. You can’t deny that these emotions are reserved for each other alone. When you analyze their fights and really see what they’re talking about - “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls,” “well, we used to be best friends!” - it’s not that difficult to see they’re emotional over each other.
At the heart of it, when you care about something, when you love it. You get emotional. If you didn’t love it, if it meant nothing to you, you wouldn’t react. Mike and Will react to each other.
It’s not hard to imagine them continuing to fight and learning more about each other. Facing more of what hurts. I agree that they get cut short, and I think that one jab too deep may reveal something incredibly important to them. But we just don’t get to see it in Mike’s garage nor at the Rink-o-Mania, and I think that that’s wholly intentional and possibly reserved for season 5. And from there, it’s not hard to see their emotions turn into something more, too. Because at the end of the day, they’re passionate about their relationship.
All this is to say, I’m really excited for them to dig deeper next season. Maybe it’s a fight, maybe it’s a confession, maybe it’s both. And just like how their fights don’t truly end in one leaving the other but coming back together later on, their stories aren’t over yet.
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hai i want to req a scenario where bsd characters has a crush on the reader and tries dropping hints but the reader just thinks that they’re being nice :D
characters: yosano, nikolai, akutagawa, ranpo, jouno
I added Chuuya cause I am self-indulgent, but enjoy!
Tw: Very light talk of characters being very touchy, but still sfw
Yosano
she's so obvious
Constantly complimenting you
Saying how pretty/handsome you are
Maybe a little touchy iykyk
She honestly wants to confess and have a serious relationship with you
and she's been trying to drop hints but..
"Oh Y/n~, you're so cute I could eat you up.."
"Huh? You can't eat people Yosano! Do you need something to snack on?"
"ugh. No, thank you, dear..."
Finally, she'll confess to you after patching you up after a small mission.
"Y/n.. I uhm, really like you."
"Awe, I like you too Yosano! You're my best friend"
She falls on the floor momentarily before just jumping up, grabbing you by the collar, and kissing you.
"O-Oh!" "Yeah. Oh."
"So? Do you.. Like me too?"
"W-Well. If it means we could do that agai- MPHM!"
Nikolai
Another obvious one
Now he's the real feeler upper
He will not let you GO MAN
Definitely a grabber too
I have this vision of him full-on grabbing your ass and you're just like "Oh? What's up, Nikolai?"
Surprise hugs from behind
He lets you braid his hair
Unlike Yosano, he will not be as patient
He'll grab your hands, get down on one knee, and scream:
"Y/n~! I love you! Please go out with me so we can be free together!"
You are not expecting this at all
So you shakily nod
Then he'll pick you up bridal style and run around with you in his arms <3
Akutagawa
Now with him
I wouldn't fucking notice either bro
His idea of hints is odd
"You don't suck at fighting.."
"Uhm... Thank you?"
He's read that some people give food to their crushes, so he'll randomly just set a cup of tea down on your desk
Since it's a food he likes, he'll also just leave figs on your desk???
It's, very confusing to say the least
In this case, I don't see him ever actually confessing
it was actually Chuuya that found out and pushed him along
Aka, he dragged you both into the same room and pushed Akutagawa along
but it all worked out in the end
Ranpo
Oh my God you gotta be real dence
CLIMBS ON YOU?
LIKE FULL ON SCALES YOUR BODY AND SITS ON YOUR SHOULDERS
And when you get tired and ask him to get off he's just like "Nah I'm good."
Shares his snacks with you
You brought him sweet mochi one day and that was the day he vowed to marry you
You thought he was joking?
Likes pitching your cheeks
"You're so squishy and cute Y/n~ Just like a dumpling" "Ranpo that hurts-"
The way he confesses I hear you ask?
One morning he just, out of nowhere kisses your cheek.
You FLIPPED out and he was just confused
"oh, are we not dating?" "WHAT? NO?!"
He didn't realize you were too busy to notice his feelings
Jouno
Side note: God we need more Jouno hc's fr tho
Jouno's way of showing he loves you?
Training you to the mfing bone.
Bro does not let up
If you're a hunting dog it's even worse
Y'know that scene where he stands on tecchou's back?
He does that all the time
Sometimes hits your head too
But, if he sees you're genuinely struggling he eases up
Honestly, he shows hints in very small ways that you wouldn't notice
Like a small pat on the back or bringing you water after a long day
All the other hunting dogs can see the way he listens extra intently when you talk as well
Another thing, he remembers almost every conversation you two have even had.
So he knows all your interests, likes, and hobbies
He would probably just casually do a normal confession, bring you a rose and a gift <3
Chuuya
Chuuya is terrified of letting people get too close to him (Kinnie moment-)
So for a while he wouldn't make any attempts at a relationship with you at all
But after you've stuck around him for years, even when others didn't, how could he not be smitten for you?
After a while of denying, he'll finally drop hints
He'll offer to drive you too and from work (mostly for the excuse to have your arms around him)
He also started bringing you lunches on Monday's
Has bought you jewelery and chokers galore
The expensive ones too cause he rich rich
He will drunkenly confess
"Damn.. Why do you have to go and make me fall in love with you?"
"..What?"
He has never sobered up so fast
He tried to stand up and leave, but you grabbed him and hugged him tight
After a few seconds, he did the same
#bungo stray dogs#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs#bsd#chuuya x reader#bsd fanfic#bungo stray dogs x reader#ranpo x reader#jouno x reader#yosano x reader#nikolai x reader#akutagawa x reader#glitchs✧works
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as long as i’m here (no one can hurt you)
| alessia x reader | hurt/comfort | 3.1k | disclaimer: mentions of anxiety & self loathing -this gets dark so please read at your own discretion! | a/n: based of this req! initially was supposed to be really fluffy but then somehow it just became 2/3 angst soooo welp. honestly it started off really strong imo but idk what happened towards the end, but oh well. not proofread as usual. anyways, take care amigos, happy reading!
~~~
Your heart’s in your throat and you don’t know how it got there.
Your heart’s in your throat and the world around you’s dark.
Your heart’s in your throat and you don’t know where you are.
All you know is you’ve gotta go- you’ve gotta go fast- because if you stay any longer, the voices are going to catch up.
They’re going to catch up and they’re going to tell you- no scratch that- they’re going to remind- they’re going to remind you that aren’t good enough.
They’re going to remind you that there’s better, that there always will be someone smarter, more athletic, more confident, more outgoing, more fun.
They’re going to remind you that none of this is real- convince you that everything is just fake. That you’ve lost your mind enough to devise your own reality, where nothing exists yet everything is perfect.
They’re going to remind you that you aren’t worthy. That you’ve fluked your way through life- everything gifted to you, everything undeserved.
It’s the way it always goes. You running and running and running, only stopping either when the voices catch up or when you wake up, and if you were honest, you don’t know which one you prefer.
It’s not that you’d be dead, nor is it that you didn’t want to be alive.
It’s that you don’t know how you could explain to the sleeping girl beside you that even with every second you lay asleep, the voices in your head don’t cease.
That each time she comforts you as you wake, shirt damp with sweat, shuddering breath escaping your lips, the words get louder in your mind.
And with each circle rubbed into your back, or reassuring word mumbled against your tangled hair, you think about how she could do better, better than you, better than this mess of troubling dreams, this mess of tangled voices, nonexistent but real to you, shouting, screaming, yelling, reminding you, telling you, letting you know.
You aren’t good enough, nor will you ever be.
She deserves better, better than you.
You’re a fraud, a fake, a phony.
The words repeat and repeat and repeat.
~~~
It’s the third time this week, and it’s only Wednesday, that you wake up, heart racing, palms sweating as you try and regulate your uneven breaths.
It’s new to you, this whole nightmare thing.
You’d even go as far as to call yourself a lucky child, able to count on one hand how many nightmares you had when you were younger.
Now? Now though, it’s a miracle if you sleep through the night.
You don’t know when it started- maybe sometime between the middle of last season and its end- when all you saw attached to your name was negative chatter.
Flooding comments on social media calling you unreliable, unworthy, unneeded for your team.
Offhand remarks of how you could’ve played better, could’ve done more, didn’t deserve a starting position, maybe would be better as a late sub, for the sake of the team.
Maybe it was when you spent countless hours post practices perfecting your free kicks and running shots, only to be told to not take them as much, the dismissing tone in your coach’s voice clear, disapproval clear in their eyes.
Words said and said and said, their intent to hurt, to prick, to wound successful.
It was those words that rang out in your dreams, among the thousands of other outcries you were used to having directed your way.
You thought you could take it, firmly believed so.
You were a professional athlete for fuck’s sake, a little bit of verbal battering was nothing you couldn’t handle, right?
At least that’s what you told yourself each time you woke up in cold sweat, mind exhausted, heart tired as you tried to remind yourself those opinions weren’t facts.
As usual, it led you to now.
Now being you stiffly lying on your side of the bed, the room bathed in darkness, only the sound of Alessia’s soft snores to be heard.
Swallowing hard, you shuddered as fragments of your latest nightmare floated through your mind.
This one was different from the usual.
This one might have even been the worst.
The nightmare had started off as they typically do, the realistic image of the team’s pitch clear in your mind.
It seemed to be a replay of a normal game day.
Arsenal dressed in their bright red jerseys, your opponents in a shade of blur, all the same but unidentifiable- not like it mattered much anyways- you didn’t need much convincing to feel how real it seemed.
It felt like a normal game day, but you saw yourself in third person, following yourself on the pitch like a drone, able to see each mistake you made so sharply, so distinctly.
You watched in horror as you tripped over your feet. Your heart dropped as you passed the ball directly to the other team. You’re nearly in tears watching as each tackle you made either did nothing or nearly took out the opposing player.
You looked on in fear as the crowd begged for you to be subbed off.
Your own home crowd, cheering any time you lost the ball, any time you slipped and fell, any time you erred.
As much as it hurt each time the dream played out, this was normal to you.
You were used to this.
Used to the sinking feeling in your stomach. The flips it would do as you felt your heart break, the realization that maybe you just didn’t matter, the thought that you didn’t need to exist floating through your mind as your throat closed up.
The sinking feeling as you realized you were unwanted was nothing new.
The knowledge that you just weren’t good enough was basically a mantra ingrained in your mind.
So even though it hurt as if it was new each time, you were used to it.
This was normal, no matter how many times it occurred, night in night out, it had become a part of you.
What wasn’t normal though, was how the game faded away slowly for once, a new environment blurring into your vision, the once typical dream changing drastically.
You tried to shake your head in your mind, very much disoriented at the unfamiliar setting.
You weren’t at the field anymore. The green grass you were always so used to seeing, the one that haunted you now in real life, gone within seconds.
Instead, in its place, was a dark atmosphere, bright lights flashing occasionally as you felt vibrations hum through you rhythmically.
Hearing laughter coming from your left, you whipped your head to the side.
Mere metres away from you stood the rest of your team, all dressed to enjoy a night out, drinks cradled in their hands.
You were at a club.
Chest constricting as you watched the girls peer over at you, then laugh, you felt your face flush, embarrassment seizing your ability to breathe.
Quickly turning around, you searched for Alessia.
Alessia usually made the anxiety go away.
Alessia was safe.
Alessia.
You needed to find her.
Pushing your way through the mass of crowded, faceless bodies crammed in front of you, you tried to look for the blonde.
The further you went though, the smaller you seemed to get.
With each step you were taking, the room seemed to grow in size, the people around you taller, peering judgmentally at you as you pushed through, the faceless partygoers somehow displaying a clear emotion of distaste at your presence.
You could feel your heart beat faster with each second.
Too many people.
You needed to find Alessia.
Too many people.
You couldn’t breathe.
Too many people.
Alessia.
Continuing to push through the mass, air getting harder and harder to breathe, you closed your eyes, blindly moving forward.
Squeezing your way past the final few bodies, you felt yourself stumble as you came across a hallway, the door at the end of it bathed in a dim glow.
Maybe she was there?
Unable to stop yourself, your mind pleading for you to do so but frozen, your feet carried you towards the light.
You wanted to find Alessia.
You needed her right now, and you’d do whatever it took.
Hands shaking at the uneasy feeling in your stomach, you approached the door, fingers reaching out to rest on the door.
Surely Alessia had to be here, right?
You’d soon get your comfort…
Letting out a shaky breath at the thought of finally being okay soon, in the presence of Alessia, you pushed the door open, ready to feel okay, only for your eyes to widen as you felt a lump form in your throat.
No, surely not. No…no…no…
Frozen in your spot, you stared, white as ghost, at the sight in front of you.
There, in the dark room ahead, was Alessia.
Except she wasn’t alone.
Eyes flitting between the blonde and the faceless body in her arms, you felt your world crash.
There she was, your girlfriend, your Alessia, arms wrapped around another person that wasn’t you.
Another person that had their body pressed against hers in a way that was most definitely not friendly, not platonic in the least.
In front of you stood the two, hair dishevelled, their eyes as wide as yours, mouths agape as they realized they’d been caught.
In front of you stood your Alessia, in the arms of another, as you finally felt the ground slip away from beneath you.
~~~
You knew it was just a dream.
You knew she wouldn’t cheat on you.
You knew it.
You believed it.
You felt it, each and every day that she loved you.
Yet, in this moment, darkness bathing you as the silence stretched on, the sinking feeling in your stomach and the way your heart still hadn’t stopped aching since you’d woken up told you otherwise.
Furiously wiping the tears that had fallen from your eyes, you tried to do your best not to sniffle, lest you wake your girlfriend up.
You already had a dream about her cheating- you didn’t want to go and make your night worse by waking her when she so desperately needed her rest.
Doing your best to take deep breaths, you tried to regulate your shaky breathing.
Slowly inhaling and exhaling, you paid keen attention to how much noise you were making with each gasp.
You needed to be quiet- had to be quiet.
She couldn’t see you like this.
No, you wouldn’t let her.
Taking a chance, you slowly turned your head to the side, eyes tracing the faint outline of the striker’s face as you wiped another round of tears on your hands.
Every single fibre in you wanted so desperately to reach out, to be in her hold, to let her soft murmur comfort you like countless times before.
But you couldn’t.
You’d get through this night eventually.
Closing your eyes in frustration at the impending headache you knew was coming, you pressed the heel of your palms harshly to your eyes.
You’d be okay. You’d be okay. You’d be okay.
Repeating the words to yourself, you whined in frustration, unable to find yourself to believe the words.
It was only when your eyes stung due to brute force did you realize what you had just done, freezing as you heard shuffling beside you.
Holding your breath, you felt Alessia’s arm reach out blindly towards you, sleepily patting around, trying to find your body, her even in her sleep ready to take care of you.
You couldn’t have her wake up for you, not again. Not when it’s been multiple nights of her waking up, holding you till the dawn breaks, treating you ever so carefully, so delicately,
Letting go of the breath you were holding as you heard the movement stop, you closed your eyes as more tears of frustration escaped.
How many times- how many fucking times were you going to wake up each night? Why, why for the love of god, could your mind not be normal?
Flexing your jaw as you tried to force your emotions away, you didn’t see the way Alessia sleepily awoke from beside you.
Mind preoccupied by not waking up the Gunner, you didn’t realize that she had long since been awake, trying to give you the time to collect yourself like she knew you wanted.
In all honesty, the blonde had been up before you had been.
Recent days had oddly trained her to sleep a bit lighter. The combined with hearing your mumbling during your dreams had easily woken her up.
She’d let you be though, well aware that you hated that she woke up each time.
So she laid in silence, doing her best to continue her sleepy state, hoping that the night didn’t get too horrible, that she didn’t have to step in, for your sake.
She stayed awake though, lethargically alert, ready to jump in if needed.
Throat tightening up when she heard your sniffles, the furious movement of your hands as you wiped your tears away quietly pulling at her heart strings, the blonde quietly laid there as you dealt with the storm in your mind.
A stalemate of sorts, an inevitable cycle of hurt.
Slowly but surely though, your sniffles died down, movement slowing as you calmed, initial stabbing pain at the nightmare slowing until it became a dull ache.
It’s then that Alessia chose to take her chances, knowing you were easier to talk to after you had ridden your wave of emotions.
“You think you’re hurting me each time you wake me up, but I don’t think you realize how much it pains me to see you like this…”
The words a near whisper into the darkness, Alessia waited a beat before slowly turning to face you, head resting on her arm as she faced you.
Please let me help you.
The plea went unsaid.
Continuing, the whispered words brought on another round of damp eyes.
“You think you’re protecting me, but if it’s just hurting you more and I care for you, are you really succeeding?”
Let me be there to comfort you.
Feeling her heart start to pound at your silence, Alessia wondered if you’d fallen asleep.
Raising her head to try and decipher whether you were awake, she waited as a beat passed, and then another, both without an inch of movement from you.
Shaking her head at the cruel timing between her speaking and your presumably sleeping state, the blonde opened her mouth to sigh, only to be cut off by your timid voice.
“I hate it enough that I have to go through this…it’s not fair to make you go through it too…”
The shaky admission had the blonde’s breath catching in her throat.
She never once felt forced to be there for you. Never.
The fact that being a burden to her had you holding back so significantly pained her to hear.
If the constricting of her heart at your quiet sobs had hurt, then the admission nearly felt like being stabbed.
You weren’t a burden- not to her. Not now, not ever. She just needed to make sure you knew that. Believed it.
“You’re not making me go through anything. I want to be there for you. I want to be able to hold you through the good nights and the bad. Especially the bad. You aren’t a burden to me…”
Swallowing lightly at the prolonged silence that followed her words, Alessia continued, shuffling closer to you until she was nearly pressed up against your side, only a sliver of space between the two of you.
“You make it seem like me loving you is a burden. That I can love you only when you’re perfect...when you’ve got it all together and don’t need a shoulder to cry on.
I don’t want that though. I don’t want to love you when you’re pristine. I want to love you when the days are dark and it’s raining so hard that you’re confined inside. I want to love you when it’s four pm and you didn’t sleep the night before and you’re grumpy because your coffee’s too cold. I want to love you when you can’t remember what it’s like to be loved. When it’s nearly three am and you’re having a nightmare and you don’t know who to turn to. That’s when I want to love you- when you need it most.”
A silence blanketed the room at the end of Alessia’s admission, only the quiet hum of the electrical wiring to be heard.
Feeling her cheeks heat up but not finding it in herself to care- to be embarrassed- the blonde took her chances.
Slowly letting her arm come to wrap around your midsection, she pulled you close.
With you still laid on your back, the side of your torso pressed up against the striker’s front, your hands gently intertwined as she found where it rested under the sheets, she continued.
“Not waking me won’t do either of us good. Yes, you could deal with it on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I want to be there for you. I want to hold you when things get tough. I want to love you. You just need to let me do that…”
Feeling you nod in response, she moved to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.
Moving to lay on her back as she felt you turn towards her, the Gunner opened her arms in an easy welcome, gathering you in her embrace as you sank into her comfort.
Whispering a quiet ‘thank you’ at your understanding, she wondered out loud if you wanted to talk about it.
A quiet but firm ‘no’ escaping your lips, she nodded her head in understanding as ran her hand through your hair.
If you didn’t want to talk, so be it- as long as you let her love you, take care of you, hold you, it didn’t matter.
As long as you felt loved, because you very much were if Alessia had anything to say about it.
Hands coming to wrap strongly around you, you sighing contently at the warmth as you felt the tiredness of the past hour catch up with you, the pair of you drifted off into a dreamless sleep, Alessia’s last tiredly whispered sentence ringing reassuringly, protectively in your mind as the tension in your shoulder eased.
"It's easy to love you on your good days, but I want to love you on your worst. On the days you don't believe in love and don't think you deserve it, it's when I want to love you most. 'Cause I'll love you through all of them, now and forever, if you let me."
'If I could change the way that you see yourself, you wouldn’t wonder why you hear ‘they don’t deserve you'"
#this one gets dark- sorry guys#not proofread because we don't do that here#alessia russo#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo imagine#woso fanfics#woso one shot#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso community#woso#my writing#fic req#hurt/comfort#fic#alaih
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can you write another remus lupin drabble? I love, love, love your work so much!
here you go, love! thank you for requesting! i’m in a remus mood today i suppose <3
cw: fem!reader, mentions of alcohol, mentions of a party, drunkenness, fluff, minimal kissing, remus taking care of reader, remus being a sweetheart, 1.3k
<3
“Remus, thank god, you’re here!” Lily almost yells, but the blaring music in the Gryffindor common room still manages to drown out her voice. She waves her hand quickly, gesturing for Remus to follow her, and leads him through the crowd of drunk and high classmates, “She’s been drinking like crazy—” someone knocks into Remus, causing him to stubble backward and separate from Lily. He’s offered a drink as amends, but puts his hand up to decline before quickly catching up with Lily, without her noticing his absence, “—I couldn’t get her to stop!”
Lily comes to an abrupt stop and Remus almost steps on her heels. When Remus looks down to ask why she’d stopped, he notices her eyes are locked on a commotion that is happening right in front of them. He follows her gaze and is met with his bestfriend—you—dancing on a table with drinks in either hand. You skin is glowing, presumably with sweat, but you look like a goddess nonetheless. You hair sticks to your neck and it looks uncomfortable from Remus’s viewpoint, but you don’t seem to mind as you take sip of one of your drinks. If it was anyone but you, Remus would grimace, but he knows you’re an absolute sweetheart, and just like to have fun. He doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with that. However, sometimes you probably shouldn’t be doing some of the things that you do, like now. Tonight especially with upcoming tests, you should probably be in bed, reading a book, like you normally do.
When Remus takes a step forward, separating himself from the crowd, your eyes immediately catch his and the infectious smile that takes over your face is heart-stopping, “Remus!” you call to him, taking a clumsy step forward, towards the edge of the table. With quick strides and some internal panic for your well-being, Remus comes to your aid, stepping onto a chair and gently lifting you off the table and bring you both back onto the sturdy ground. Your cute little shirt was already riding up, but with Remus’s hands on you, it does so even more and your face becomes expressionless when all you can feel is warm hands on your waist.
Much to your dismay, Remus’s hands leave your bare skin just as quickly as they came, instead they reach up to gently take the two drinks away from your grasp. He sets them onto the table you were previously on before they’re quickly snatched up by a few randoms too lazy to grab their own. The same beaming smile from earlier returns to your face when Remus turns back towards you after setting down the drinks. He returns your smile, his a bit softer, more persuading. He’s making an attempt to charm you into following him out of the party. He knows it works everytime and you know you can’t help it.
“Hey, lovely,” Remus greets sweetly, having to lean down to ear level in order for you to hear over all the noise and taking your hands in his, “Do you want to get out of here with me?” He asks, that charming smile planted upon his lips and you gasp, quickly glancing around as if the question is scandalous. In other circumstances it could be, but Remus had no intention of doing whatever you’re thinking.
“Really?” you ask after stepping on your tip-toes while Remus bent down slightly, your tone is hushed but still loud enough to reach Remus’s ears.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” Remus chuckles lightly, dropping one of your hands to brush your hair out of your sweaty face before cupping your cheek. You smile again and Remus wonders if your cheeks hurt by now, “You need to go to bed.” He adds, gently rubbing his thumb under your eye, wiping away a smudge of mascara. Your smile falls, but his touch is a soothing distraction to your disappointment because you definitely weren’t planning on sleeping. However, with Remus’s hand on your face, you close your eyes for a moment, the truth of your fatigue washing over you.
“I am a little tired.” you admit after reopening your eyes and meeting Remus’s. His gaze is soft, understanding. His hand leaves your cheek and he pulls you in front of him before placing his hand on your back and gently allowing you to lead him towards your dorm room. You move slowly, the alcohol flowing through your system, but you appreciate Remus letting you have control over yourself. Remus knows it bothers you when you don’t and you know it requires more patience on Remus’s part. How he tolerates it, you’re not sure. But Remus knows it’s because he loves you.
You arrive at the top of the stairs to your dorm and the noise of the party is blocked out as Remus closes the door behind you. His hand leaves your back for a moment and you stand there unknowingly watching him shut the door. You feel warm all over, whether it’s because of him or the alcohol you don’t really care, you just want to get out of your own sweaty skin. When Remus turns back towards you, he’s quick to notice your discomfort and with his hand in between your shoulder blades, he silently leads you to the bathroom.
“Sit down, love.” Remus orders gently, pushing on your shoulders to get you to sit on the toilet seat, “I’ll take care of you.” He says, pressing a kiss to your hairline as he kneels on the ground before you.
All you can do is nod and watch his movements closely, memorizing every detail. His eyelashes delicately brush the top of his cheeks as he blinks slowly and his sandy brown hair falls into his face as he brings his hands up to the bottom hem of your shirt, fingers brushing your sticky skin.
“Lift.” Remus whispers and you comply, slowly lifting your arms above your head as he carefully pulls your shirt off of your body. You’re left in your bra and goosebumps rise to your skin. Remus stands, wetting a cloth under the sink, before kneeling again and bringing the cloth to your skin. He brushes the cloth along your arms, stomach, and chest, careful to not get your bra wet. His movements are slow, soothing, and you can’t resist the urge to slow your eyes and sigh, allowing yourself to feel the immense relief.
“That feel good?” Remus chuckles and you nod vigorously. Remus’s movements suddenly come to a halt, causing you to open your eyes. “Here.” Remus is offering you the cloth which you take and repeat the same movements as him.
Remus grabs another cloth from the cabinet overhead, this time bringing it to your face, gently wiping your face clean of makeup. One of his hands rests on your chin, turning your head when he needs to, while the other holds the cloth. Your eyes close and Remus watches your eyelashes kiss the tops of your cheeks. His movements pause and you reopen your eyes like before. Your face is close to his, so close. And then you smile. Oh god, Remus could kiss you, he wants to, he always does, but you’re drunk. Even if the effects are starting to wear off, he would never do that.
“Thank you.” you break the silence, your expression looking slightly guilty, “I know I’m a bit of a pain sometimes.” You admit, glancing towards the bathroom mat beneath you.
“You’re never a pain, lovely.” Remus smiles and the hand still on your chin brings your gaze back up to his.
“Besides the point,” you quickly brush his previous words off with the wave of your hand before smiling sadly, “I appreciate you always doing this.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Remus replies, leaning forward to kiss your cheek before grabbing both of your hands to lift you up off the toilet seat.
You yawn, almost falling forward onto Remus, “I’m so tired.” you admit and Remus chuckles, giving your hands a tight squeeze.
“Then let’s get you to bed.” Remus offers gently, pulling you towards your bed. When you climb in and ask him to stay, to hold you, Remus thinks he’ll never let go.
<3
masterlist . remus lupin masterlist . taglist
thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!
tags: @googie-jeon, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @jordie-gvf, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker, @moonsupremacy01, @enamoredwithbella
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#my works ──★ ˙☕️ ̟ !!#masterlist#remus lupin x you#remus lupin angst#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin smut#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin scenario#marauders fluff#marauders imagine#marauders fandom#marauders era#marauders#remus x reader
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Hi, I was wondering if you could do platonic yandere monkiefam and bull demonfam with a younger sibling/child that is blind but can sense vibrations, like toph from Atla
Monkiefam with a blind Y/N
Out of all three of them, MK struggles the most with your blindness. He means well, he really does! You didn’t grow up with the ability to sense vibrations and interpret them- you had to learn. And sometimes he thinks back to the days before you did, comforting you in his arms after a nasty spill brought on by a rearranged environment. He thinks back to getting into fistfights with bullies and pranksters, how he would see red each time someone would snatch things away from you or knock you over- and he remembers the feeling of teaching them to keep their hands off of you.
“I’m not trying to baby you,” MK loudly insists as you struggle in his grip. “But you need to take this with you if you’re going so far out!”
The two of you continue to struggle against one another as your older brother tries in vain to pin a tracking device to your backpack, notably holding back so he doesn’t hurt you. “C’mon, please?! Just let me put it on already!” MK lessens the force he’s exerting on you, deciding to try and barter instead. “You don’t even have to keep it on! Just for today, Y/N!”
Predictably, his attempts at diplomacy fail and you’re left to wrestle even more fervently in his grip, trying your absolute hardest to writhe free.
And then something slips under your shirt- a fluffy, prehensile tail that writhes against your ribs and leaves you in a giggling fit, MK free to stuff the tracker somewhere deep inside your bag. “Monkey King! Knock it off,” you wail out, fighting against his playful assault. “Stop!”
“Nope! Hate to be a joykill, bud- but I agree with MK. You’re taking the tracker if you wanna head out to that new cafe. Honestly, I don’t see why you wanna go at all when I could just whip something up with my-“
“I am not eating hair! Now get your tail off me!”
It’s incredibly frustrating, the way they treat you. It’s not quite to the point that you’d say they’re infantilizing you with their actions, but it can come very close.
MK’s babying is mostly tolerable, given that it comes from a lifetime of watching over you before you learned to sense vibrations and find your way around. He was there for you at your absolute lowest, and he’s not gonna forget all the people that messed with you because you looked like an easy target. Still, as you grow older his actions feel less ‘protective’ and more ‘stifling’.
Sun Wukong is far, far more irritating. You’re just too easy to scoop up! He can sneak up behind you on his cloud and sweep you into his arms and keep you there for hours on end as you struggle and kick, futilely trying to escape his furry grip. No vibrations can travel through the misty mounds of his nimbus mount, leaving you well and truly helpless in his arms.
The Great Sage’s intention isn’t to make you feel weak or vulnerable, but he certainly won’t raise a fuss as you squirm into his lap so you can at least feel the vibrations that race through his body with each breath he takes- it’s something, at least. Wukong twists around a little to accommodate your body, letting your head rest again this chest, listening to his thrumming heartbeat. The outline of his body flashes in your eyes, something to ground and settle you.
“Dad’s gotcha, bud/hun… I’ve gotcha…”
As for your other ‘dad’, Macaque mostly watches you from afar when you’re with Wukong and MK. He prefers to step in when he has the chance to have you all to himself, springing umbral portals underneath your feet, the shadowy pit dropping you from the ceiling and into his arms with a smug: “Hey kiddo-going somewhere?”
And before you can yell at him for springing this nonsense with you again, you pause, because… hey, why not use a chance when you’ve got it?
“Dad,” you start, forcing the awkward word off your tongue. Already, the sable simian perks up, his ego stroked at your acknowledgement of the role he wishes to take. “I’m heading to a café. You want me to bring you something back?”
Macaque traces a clawed finger across the bottom of your face, curving up in a semi-circle motion: cheek to chin to cheek. His way of telling you: ‘I’m smiling’. Softly, his palm comes to cup your cheek.
“I’ll take you there myself, kiddo.”
It’s not that he’s a better person than MK or Sun Wukong. In fact, he’s a lot worse. He was a vindictive, egotistical villain not too long ago. You think of the Dragon Palace of the East Sea, smashed to pieces, it’s residents displaced and it’s people injured. Men. Women. Children. Each of them, innocent. Mere collateral damage to the simian.
He’s displayed no remorse or regret for his actions. The only thing he’s felt shame for is his long-ago submissiveness to his sworn brothers.
He’s not a good person. Not in the slightest.
But he’ll try to be one. If only for your sake.
Bullfam with a blind Y/N
It’s easy to feel out of place here. Your parents and brother are demon warriors, powerful celestials, prideful members of their esteemed and feared clan. Your vibration technique is nothing short of impressive, if not outright groundbreaking, but it hardly holds to the level your kin can reach.
It doesn’t help that you are rarely given the opportunity to prove your worth, no matter how you strive and fight for those precious chances.
Instead, you’re often relegated to support and menial chores, your family finding worth in your services by putting you to task with (safe) time-consuming labor. And you… kind of enjoy it? Because instead of “Don’t touch the laundry machine, you don’t know what you’re doing”, it’s “Y/N, clear the table and bring us the grimoire we unearthed last month,” Princess Iron Fan says, brushing some hair behind your ears and clipping it into place.
You shouldn’t be so happy about such a mild thing, shouldn’t be happy to be commanded and directed. But it’s proof that they don’t see you as entirely helpless, and allow you to contribute in some way, even if it’s small.
There’s a degree of normalcy in it, something you crave. To be treated like a regular member of the family, responsibilities and all.
Unlike the Monkiefam, Y/N doesn’t have much freedom before they learn their vibration technique. The Bullfam keeps you on a much shorter leash, often locking you in your room during fights or training, refusing to let you potentially wander into harm’s way. MK would carry you across the street to keep you safe while still giving you a chance to explore the city with him, Red Son would lock you in your room and serve you exclusively blended meals to keep you from making a mess and spilling things on yourself.
Secretly, he misses making those drinks for you. It was a very strange and unwanted; if surprisingly heartfelt, way of caring for you.
After all, they got used to the ways they took care of you. Learning to utilize the vibration technique teaches you how to be independent, but also shakes up the dynamics you have with your family. No more being gently bundled around the fortress on the Demon Bull King’s hands, for example. He used to scoop you into his palms and let you sit there, safely nestled into plush purple fur. His steps grow more cautious now that you absolutely insist on walking on your own (and your father does want to make you happy, so he begrudgingly allows you to wander the walls alone) the taurine warlord doing his best to keep from crushing you underfoot.
Not that they’re suddenly going to stop being obsessed with your safety and welfare. You are still under strict orders and schedules, and they don’t go easy on you for breaking them.
And if you ever do step out of line?
Red Son has an incredibly devious method of punishment for you- snow boots.
Sounds like a joke, right? It sounds funny, almost. Your parents don’t seem to mind all too much, and Red certainly derives are least a little bit of amusement from the scenario.
It’s not funny to you, though.
The matter of getting punished for exerting basic control over your life aside- they’re taking away your crutch. Without a thought of how helpless and vulnerable you feel as result, how terrified you are to be plunged into darkness again, how bad it hurts to remember the days you spent crying as child, scared and alone when you got lost, no way to find the path home.
He’ll feel bad for doing this to you, eventually. He always does, no matter how many times he swears that this will be the time he’ll “Make you wear them for a full hour, and it will be raised to two if you complain, Y/N!”
You’re wrapped in a blanket and drinking tea with him by the time a half-hour has passed.
He loves you, after all. Even if he thinks of you as a blithering little idiot sometimes- you’re still his cherished little sibling.
#Platonic Yandere#Yandere Lego Monkie Kid#Yandere LMK#Yandere MK#Yandere Sun Wukong#Yandere Macaque#Yandere Red Son#Yandere Princess Iron Fan#Yandere Demon Bull King#Monkiefam#Bullfam#Yandere Brother#Yandere Father#Yandere Mother
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Star Performer
A (once again) angsty Showtime fic
Woo! Haven’t written Showtime on here yet, i don’t think. They’re so silly!
Synopsis: Caine and Pomni recently got together, and a certain rabbit needs to make his two cents known about Caine’s priorities.
TW: Hurt/Comfort, Angst
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Caine wouldn’t say he had a favorite.
He barely even knew what the concept was, and he didn’t ever think about it. Just another complex human behavior he didn’t have the time or memory space to try and comprehend.
That is, until Pomni came along.
She was nervous and somewhat hotheaded, but Caine saw how much she tried to adjust. To enjoy his adventures. To make heads or even tails of what this world was.
And, over time, they had gotten closer. His worldview was a window, only letting a limited view in. Pomni pushed the proverbial window open, and he understood *so* much more now.
Her laugh, the concern she felt for others, what made her upset and made her smile, everything about her made him feel less like code and more like one of them.
They had just gone on another ‘date night’, as Caine had dubbed it. He’d make an adventure, a beautiful pocket of space just for her, and they’d indulge in the endless possibilities that awaited them.
It was a picnic date, after Pomni had pitched the idea (and explained what a picnic was). The digital moon was high in the sky, and the wind was soft and cool. Caine pulled absolutely every trick in the book to make it a beautiful landscape.
Sometime during the date, right near the end, Pomni yawned. She rested her head on his shoulder and fell asleep on him.
Now, this shouldn’t be surprising for any other couple, really. This kind of thing was normal. Not for them.
Pomni was affectionate and sweet, but not touchy. Caine always respected this. He never put a hand on her without silently asking if he could. She loved in her way, he loved in his.
So when Caine felt a head burying itself in the crook of his neck (???), he almost blue-screened. Soft snoring came from the jester’s mouth as she slept on his shoulder.
He knew he absolutely couldn’t mess this up or waste the opportunity. He snapped his fingers, and his coat appeared over her as a blanket. She made a soft, contented noise and smiled just as soft.
He snapped again, wincing at the noise he made. The portal appeared, and he pressed a small kiss to her forehead and floated through.
It was nighttime, and he didn’t think anyone would still be up at all. He was halfway to the dorms to lay her to bed, when a voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Hey, ringmaster!” Jax. The tone was taunting and mischievous. Of course.
“Oh, hello Jax! I didn’t think you would be up at this hour.” Caine tried to keep his voice down as much as he could. Pomni was still dozing peacefully in his arms.
Jax’s eyes darted to Pomni, and then back to Caine. He strutted over. “So, how’s your favorite doing?” He had a terrible grin on his face.
Caine didn’t necessarily pick up on the sarcasm. “Oh! She’s alright! Though, I must ask you to be quiet. She’s sleeping.” He explained, hoping he would just leave.
But this was Jax, and this opportunity was golden.
“Oh, is she now? That’s a shame. Oh well. Maybe tomorrow you’ll find some way to put her on a pedestal.” He sneered, more venom than usual in his voice.
“Pedestal? Now, now, Jax! I don’t have any favorites in this circus.” He gave him a scolding look. He’d wag his finger if he wasn’t so intent on holding Pomni.
“Oh, yeah! That’s right!” He said in mock surprise. “Definitely no favorites! Please. Jingles here shows up outta nowhere, and you let her skip adventures and get whatever she asks for.” He snapped, standing over the two now.
Caine sighed a bit. “I’m afraid we must talk at a later date, Jax! I really do need to bring her to her room.” He said in a tone that implied it was the end of the conversation.
Jax was quiet for a second, and Caine inwardly sighed of relief. He started to float again down the dorm hallway. How did everyone else deal with him? It was something he’d need to figure out-
“Actually! I was thinking.” Oh god, why was Jax still talking? He caught up with the two, causing Caine to stop again. Pomni was still asleep, still peaceful.
“Pomni’s pretty desperate to date you.”
Caine stopped at that. It was like those words shook him to his core.
That funny feeling he got when thinking too hard about their differences. Human. Artificial Intelligence. They could never be equal. He could never give her what she needed. She’d leave, and he’d be alone, and she’d abstract, and he’d be alone, andandand-
A whimper of pain.
Caine’s eyes widened and he gasped softly. He was gripping Pomni in his arms, too emotional and angry and insecure to realize he was doing so.
Pomni looked hurt. Her mouth was a tiny frown and she curled up a bit. He instantly softened his hold. She seemed to calm down at that.
Caine just stared. He just stared down at her face. This was supposed to be good. Supposed to be a stepping stone in their relationship. Now, she didn’t know if she’d trust him like this again.
Jax burst out laughing, his mouth opened and chest heaving. “Oh, careful now! Wouldn’t want to hurt your little jester.”
Caine took a shuddering breath. He held Pomni closer and floated down the hallway once more without a word.
That small noise of discomfort would forever lodge itself in his code. His very being. She winced in pain and he was the one to do it.
He snapped his fingers to open the door to her room. It was decorated more now, with items and lights Pomni had requested.
He floated over to the bed, laying her very gently down on the covers. He even tucked her in. He put a gloved hand on her cheek, caressing it with his thumb. She smiled and leaned into the contact.
“Don’t you worry, my dear. I’ll be what you need. I’ll make you happy.”
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im happy w this one! i listened to ‘Washington On Your Side’ from Hamilton and thought ab what it would be like for Jax to suspect favoritism to Pomni
Reblogs are appreciated! See u guys next time!
#tadc showtime#tadc#the amazing digital circus#tadc fic#writers on tumblr#pomni x caine#the amazing digital circus caine#pomni tadc#tadc caine#caine x pomni#tadc jax#the amazing digital circus jax#tadc angst#tadc pomni
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I have an imagie idea for Joe Goldberg. So imagine the reader likes Joe and works with him at Mooney's and he developes a soft spot for her and teaches her how to repair the old books down there. And it isn't uncommon for her to go down there on her own to do that herself.
You give out a long sigh as you walk toward Ethan standing behind the cash register, and you drop your arms and head on the counter as soon as you arrive. Ethan gives out a chuckle as he observes your melodramatic act.
“Let me guess. One of too many customers asked you one of too many dumb questions?”
“No, there’s barely anyone in here.” You give out another sigh and look up at him with desperation. “I’m just so bored.”
“Well, you can always re-stack the shelves.” Your friend and coworker speaks as he counts the money in the cash register, his eyes sometimes looking up so he can send a smile when a new customer walks in. “We got a few new boxes in this morning.”
“But my arms are so sore.”
Ethan gives out a small smile. “Oh, really?”
“Yes, really. They hurt so bad. Actually, I think I might need to ampute them.” Your comment only manages to bring a chuckle out of Ethan, then you notice something from the corner of your eyes, and a spark of curiosity appears in your eyes. “Hey, what’s that?”
You point at a small pile of wrapped books on the far edge of the counter.
“Oh, a client dropped these earlier. They’re old books that need some restoration.” Ethan continues to count the cash, humming a familiar song in-between his words. “I’ve been planning to tell Joe as soon as he comes back from his errands.”
“What? No, forget Joe.” You rapidly grab the pile of books, a wide smile taking over your lips. “I’m gonna go downstairs and take care of these myself.”
“Um...” Ethan gives you a look of hesitance. “I’m not sure you should do that.”
“Aw, come on, Ethan.” You give him a pout, batting your eyes. “You know Joe trusts me to do these. He even said I’m doing a better job than he is.”
He bites his bottom lip, still unsure. “Yeah, I’m not saying you aren’t good, but he’s given us straight orders not to go down there for a week now.”
You point at the half empty store with your head, your voice lowering to a whisper. “Whatever’s down there isn’t worth this deadly boredom up here.”
“(Y/N).” Ethan calls out your name as you walk away, his voice coming out a bit more panicky when you ignore him. “(Y/N)!”
“Relax! Joe won’t mind, I’m sure.” You unlock the door to the basement, then send your friend a wink. “Call me if there’s an emergency.”
You open the door and close it behind you before Ethan can say anything else, your feet already making you walk down the stairs as you hum a song. It doesn’t take long for you to reach the main area of the basement where the rare books are, your mind settled on getting to the restoration table. Although, a putrid smell brings your pace to an abrupt stop, and you frown in both disgust and confusion. Curious of the origin of the smell, you turn your head toward the glass cage on your left, internally wondering if you should adjust its humidity levels.
You drop the books on the floor the moment your eyes settle on the body decaying in there.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Hey, Ethan.” Joe smiles as he walks into the shop; although, his smile slightly falters when he notices his friend jumping up at the sound of his voice. “Whoa. You’re okay? You seem nervous.”
“Ah...” Ethan’s fingers fidget with the cash register for a moment, trying his best to focus on finishing his counting task. “No... No, I’m good! Great even!”
Joe quirks an eyebrow at that, thinking that this kind of behavior could only mean one thing, and he crosses his arms over the counter with a grin.
“So, what did (Y/N) do?” He stares intently at his friend, his head slightly tilting. “Tell me the truth.”
Ethan’s eyes quickly shift toward the basement door, but Joe immediately catches onto it.
“No...” His heart sink with fear as he realizes what you’ve done, and Ethan doesn’t have time to reply anything that Joe’s already running to get downstairs. “No, no, no!”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Bitter vomit pours out of your mouth to splash in the trash can you barely managed to grab, violent trembles taking over your body soon enough. The image of the body’s glazed white eyes staring back into your soul sticks into your mind, and it only worsens your sickness. You breathe sharply the moment you stop throwing up, using your sleeve to wipe off your mouth as you take another look at the cage. Whoever this body used to be, you can tell he’s been trapped in there for a while, his decaying skin looking like a gooey moldy paste. You can see some dry white foam around what used to be his mouth, and it doesn’t take you more than a few neurons to realize that he was poisoned.
And that Joe killed him.
“Oh my God...” You cry out those words as you stand up, your legs shaking as you try to run back to the stairs. “Oh my God, Ethan! Ethan, we have to call the police...!”
The door opens before you reach the top of the stairs, and your heart drops when you realize that it’s not Ethan who’s standing up there.
It’s Joe.
“... (Y/N).” Joe whispers that name as soon as he sees you standing down there with a look of terror on your face, his hands already closing and locking the door behind him. “(Y/N), please, let me explain. I... I can explain-(Y/N)!”
You don’t waste a second to run back down, your mind now focused on finding the basement exit to reach the alleyway. Tears fall out of your eyes when you hear Joe run down behind you, screaming your name out of desperation.
“(Y/N), wait! Wait!”
He manages to grab the back of your shirt and pulls you back.
“No!” You scream as loud as you can the moment you feel his arms wrap around your body, hoping Ethan would be able to hear you as you try to kick yourself out of Joe’s grip. “No, no, no, let me go!”
“I’m sorry...” Joe whispers those words into your ears, struggling to wrap one of his arms around your neck. “You weren’t supposed to see that...”
You gasp for air when you feel his arm squeezing your neck, your hands desperately scratching at his skin to stop him. “Let... me go...!”
“I can’t do that.” He puts more pressure on your neck, making you moan in pain as you give out raspy shot breaths. “I’m so sorry.”
I’m gonna die. You think, your movements slowing down as your vision blacken. He’s going to kill me.
Joe frees your neck the moment your arms fall victim to gravity, and he gently lays you on the floor. His eyes fill up with tears when he sees your unconscious face and the red marks around your neck.
“I’ll fix this.” He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead, his mind already racing to find a solution that would save you from himself. “I promise you I’ll fix this.”
In the meantime, he’ll have to keep you down here.
And hopefully Ethan won’t question his excuses.
#you#joe goldberg#joe goldberg imagine#joe goldberg imagines#joe goldberg x reader#you imagine#you imagines#you x reader#request#requests#imagine#imagines#x reader#reader insert
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Hi :))) I think I’ll do some more general Headcanons since those did shockingly really well lolll- just a reminder that requests are open! I have a few I need to get to, but I appreciate hearing from everyone.
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
Norton Campbell | Prospector / “Fools gold” General relationship Headcanons
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
(That title is certainly a lot to read..)
Tw : mentions of nightmares, possessive behavior.
Extra : Some things can be read in a kind of suggestive tone?? That was on accident lol but I left it because it is true 💀I’ve recently been really into Norton and felt like dumping my personal Headcanons here.
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
|🩷| Norton has a tendency to be a hot and cold type of lover. One moment he can be his normal self, and the next he’s mad at the world and pushing himself away from you.
|🩷| Of course, he’ll make up for those moments when he isolates himself, or at least attempt to. With Norton, you need to be patient and show him that he won’t scare you away.
|🩷| In his normal form he can be slightly possessive but wouldn’t act out on it too much if at all. He’ll exchange harsh glares with the person he suspects has any intentions of either stealing you from him, or of harming you.
|🩷| As fools gold though… he’s much more willing to get involved and use physical measures to keep others from messing around with you. Though he is quite intimidating, so his typical glares would likely do the trick most of the time
|🩷| In either form, he’s incredibly protective of you and couldn’t imagine what would happen if you were to get seriously hurt. How they would react is different, with nortons normal self hyperfixating on your health and getting you better. His other side however would likely take care of you first, but there’s no question the person who hurt you would be roughed up quite badly.
|🩷| In terms of physical preferences in his partners- I don’t see Norton as somebody who would be terribly picky. Though, if there was one thing he would have a preference for, it would probably be eyes. If they’re striking, they’ve caught his attention.
|🩷| When it comes to his love language in a receiving type of way, he’d likely be most comfortable with words of affirmation. Reassurance that you still love him despite all his imperfections is something that comforts him and makes him swoon all the more at the same time.
|🩷| In terms of giving, Norton would be super interested in physical touch, even if it’s small. Part of it is reassurance for himself that you’re with him, but another part is the rush he feels when he gets to hold you. Things like hand holding are present almost all the time, sometimes in a more possessive type of way.
|🩷| When it comes to PDA- Norton isn’t the most reserved in the manor but he’s also not the most showy. It depends on his state day to day just how showy he is, but usually it only includes hand holding and an occasional quick kiss or two
|🩷| Big. Spoon. He loves holding you close to him and knowing that you’re safe in his arms. (And In a sense.. he likely also enjoys knowing that he’s the one in control while he’s holding you ☺️)
|🩷| His favorite nickname for you is just a simple “Babe”, or sometimes if he’s feeling generous.. “Baby”
|🩷| When you call him things like Handsome, Love, ect, he’d probably take a slight ego boost from it. Expect for him to ask you to repeat it. “Just to make sure” he didn’t mishear what you said. But we all know he just wants to hear you call him Handsome again.
|🩷| Things like “Sweetheart” or returning the “Baby” nickname would probably get him blushing and a little embarrassed, those are his names for you, not the other way around! Though despite his attitude towards being called these nicknames, he does love to hear you call him all these sweet things.
|🩷| If he has extra clothing to give you, he’d absolutely give you all of it. Seeing you in his clothing gives Norton such a rush that he cannot explain. On this same note, if he could fit into your clothing I doubt he’d be willing to wear it, he prefers to be giving things even if he cannot really afford to buy gifts.
|🩷| Norton does suffer from frequent nightmares remembering his life from before he came to the manor. He tries to hide his weaknesses from everyone, including you, though occasionally his facade slips and he breaks. Just allowing him to cry and hold you as tight as he can is usually greatly appreciated, though he will be embarrassed about the crying part later.
|🩷| He’s not the best at comforting others, but if you had a rough day or two, Norton would definitely try his best to cheer you up at least a little bit. Things like attempting to cook your favorite meal, showering you with extra love and compliments. No matter what headspace he’s in, Norton will always try his best to get a smile on your face. You matter more to him than anything else at the end of the day, and he’ll make sure to protect you.
#idv fandom#idv fanfic#idv headcanons#idv imagines#idv x reader#idv scenarios#idv matchup#norton idv#idv norton#identity v norton#idv fools gold#fools gold idv#fools gold#prospector idv#idv prospector
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your every expression, paint you with both my eyes closed
If it will inspire you 💙
Soo, this may be a tad more than a ficlet, consider me inspired! I hope you like it <3
Buck’s feeling a little more than nervous. Tommy had called earlier to let him know he was cooking dinner tonight, told him there was something he wanted to share with him. He came home, after work, to Tommy plating his grandma’s famous pasta, the one with the best sauce Buck had ever tasted (what Bobby doesn’t know won’t hurt him.)
Tommy making the pasta isn’t that unusual in and of itself, but that paired with his earlier statement made Buck feel a little uneasy. He didn’t think it was anything bad, or else this whole romantic dinner setup would be a little cruel. The point is, he’s starting to spiral just a bit, and he knows Tommy notices, clocks his every little micro expression. Still, he tampers his anxiety enough to enjoy the delicious meal his boyfriend made him and they make comfortable conversation about their days.
By the time they’ve finished dinner and cleared the table, he’s all but vibrating out of his skin. He smooths his hands up and down the seams of his jeans in an attempt to calm down. Of course, Tommy’s in front of him in an instant. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He stops Buck’s nervous hands, grasping them in his own.
“N-nothing,” he tries to lie, but folds immediately. Tommy reads him like no other and he's always big about communication so really, it’s pointless to try to lie. “It’s silly, but ever since you said you wanted to share something with me, I’ve been… a little anxious. I mean, logically I know it can’t be anything bad, but I can’t fully convince my brain- unless it is? Oh god, don’t tell me! Wait that’s dumb, of course you’d have to tell me- ”
Tommy cuts his blabbing off with a firm kiss to his lips, more to ground him than to stop him from talking. Buck lets himself sag into his arms, starting to feel a little more tethered.
“Better?” Tommy whispers in the space between their mouths.
“Yes, thank you for that,” he chuckles, darting forward for another kiss. Tommy eagerly complies. When they break apart, they stand with their arms wrapped around each other for a minute. Then, Tommy leans back enough to look him in the eye.
“It wasn’t my intention to cause you distress, baby,” he says, rubbing his thumb across Buck’s cheekbone. “I just wanted to surprise you, I promise it’s nothing bad,” he gives him a reassuring smile. “And feeling your feelings is not silly. You’re allowed to do that, yeah?”
“I know- in here, I knew,” Buck mumbles, touching a hand to his heart, “but you know how I get sometimes,” he shrugs.
“I do,” Tommy nods, a soft smile on his lips, “just know I’m here to be the lightning rod for that big, beautiful mind of yours, as many times as you need me to,” he promises.
Buck’s heart skips a beat. Tommy always seems to possess the ability to drop these devastatingly earnest and romantic truths on him, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, to love him. “Well, you are good at navigating hurricanes,” he grins and squeezes Tommy’s hand, hoping it’s enough to convey his gratitude. “So, about that surprise?”
Tommy clears his throat and it seems like now, he’s the nervous one. “Right, um, come with me,” he leads Buck by the hand, down the hallway, past their bedroom to office space that had long been converted into Tommy’s art studio. Tommy pushes the door open and flicks the light on, never letting go of Buck’s hand.
When they walk into the studio, Buck notices what looks to be a large canvas covered by a sheet in the middle of the room. He knows Tommy had been spending a lot of time on a project, but was pretty secretive about it, and as much as Buck wanted to sneak a peek, he respects and understands the sanctity of this space and outlet for Tommy. He knew Tommy would show him when he was ready.
Evidently, he’s ready now. He walks with him, until they’re standing in front of the canvas and Buck waits with baited breath for Tommy to unveil it.
“Before I show you,” Tommy begins, “know that you’re not obligated to say anything, a- and if it’s too much, you can tell me. It’s just you and me, okay?”
“Okay,” Buck says, squeezing Tommy’s hands again. “Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it,” he smiles encouragingly.
Tommy takes a deep breath and releases Buck’s hands to lift the sheet from the canvas. The piece underneath strikes Buck to his core. He knows Tommy’s talented, knows the years of practice he’s put in to refine his skills, knew whatever it was would be amazing, but this is nothing short of worship and reverence.
Floating ethereally in the center is a depiction of Buck as- well, as an angel, or a god maybe, with big, bright wings in mid-flight painted in hues of reds, oranges, and golds. His arms are reaching out to the beam of light above him, rays caressing his fingers, like he’s harnessing it in his fingertips. Light highlights the birthmark on his brow and he feels the fondness in the brushstrokes. The background is a magical sunset, done in splashes of purples and pinks with fiery bits peeking through wisps of clouds, blending ever so softly into his wings. The expression on his face is blissful, peaceful, but the slight quirk of his mouth betrays a sense of mirth.
Buck stares and stares and stares. He doesn’t know how long he stands there; It feels like time stopped, he’s suspended in the sacred warmth of this moment. But he knows he needs to say something. He’s aware of Tommy breathing beside him, the suspense he must be in, after practically taking his heart raw from his chest to display it on canvas.
“T-This is how you see me?” He finally breathes. His cheeks are wet with tears had wasn’t aware he shed.
“Yeah,” Tommy says, voice barely above a whisper. “Evan- this piece was always going to be you, but it took on a shape of its own, before I knew it. I wasn’t consciously aware until I painted the wings that I wanted to depict you as the phoenix that you are- you bright, colorful, beautiful, brave man. You’ve overcome so much, rising and shining even brighter than before, each time. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I just hope you keep shining some of that light on me, sweetheart,” he finishes with a watery smile.
“This is the most loving and beautiful thing anyone’s ever done for me,” Buck says with a hushed voice. Tears are streaming down both their faces now. “I know you love me- but, god, you really love me,” he lets out a sob, hopes every atom of his being leaks out and fuses with Tommy’s.
“I do, I really do, forever and always,” Tommy vows, reaching out to pull him in. He wipes away the tears, then cups Buck’s face with both hands and kisses his birthmark, the jut of both cheekbones, the planes of his jaw, then finally, pours as much love as he can muster into his mouth. Bucks feels it down to his soul. The kiss is salty from their tears but it’s the best kiss Buck’s ever had. Tommy rests their foreheads together, when they pause to take a breath. “So you like it?”
“It’s everything, Tommy- y-you’re everything.”
Tommy smiles and gently disentangles their bodies. Buck’s already mourning the steady, warm line of his body. He watches curiously, as Tommy reaches for something on the base of the easel.
Then, he drops to one knee, eyes crinkling with the force of his smile, as he tilts his face up. “You’re my everything, too, sweetheart. So, Evan Buckley, will you do me the honor of putting this ring on your finger about it?”
#bucks says yes btw in case that wasn’t obvious lol#made myself cry but what else is new?#i loved writing this prompt so much#bucktommy#911 abc#my fic#bidisasterevankinard
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Hi,may I request ratchet and arcee hcs making a sarcastic and hurtful comment about a human that gets loud and very talkative and trying to make things right once the human closes in on themselves and seems genuinely miserable trying to keep quiet?
A/N: I like this idea, I just don’t know if I wrote it very well
~Arcee~
•You tend to be very loud and talkative, especially when you’re excited or interested in something
•You were telling Arcee about this new game you’d found and she wasn’t really in the mood to listen
•Arcee was having a bad day and snapped at you when you were talking about the new game
•She actually went on a kind of a rant about how you were always just talking and talking and talking, and she couldn’t listen to the sound of your voice anymore
•You of course got a bit upset at this, but you tried not to show it, so you just tried to keep quiet after that
•At first, Arcee didn’t notice how hard it was for you, but when you were barely talking and only answering when you were spoken to
•You seemed to be withdrawing and really miserable
•Arcee realized that she had caused this by snapping at you and she kind of sucks at apologizing
•She is genuine, but she has a hard time finding the words that would best convey her feelings
•She tells you she’s sorry she snapped at you and you come to a compromise
•You can talk to her about stuff just like before, but you also agree on a sign or gesture that Arcee can fo when she doesn’t want to listen anymore or is too tired
•She doesn’t actually use it that often, only on bad days or when she’s really tired
~Ratchet~
•Ratchet made an offhand comment about how loud you were being and a while later another one about how “you say very little for how much you talk”
•You tried to be quieter after that, sometimes you started talking as you usually would, all excited and pretty loud, but then you sort of just trailed off and stopped talking
•This happened many times over the next couple of days before Ratchet noticed it and put two and two together
•Ratchet does make comments like that sometimes, but they aren’t really ever directed at you
•He mostly just whispers them to himself, and they’re just more like observations
•So when he noticed that he had obviously upset you, he apologized quite quickly for his comments
•It still took you a couple of days to get back to your normal bubbly self and even then the comments stayed with you
•You remember his words occasionally, and it makes you consider your volume and if he cares about what you’re talking about
•Ratchet might not always listen to you super intently, but he does still usually enjoy hearing about whatever you have to say
#transformers#tfp#transformers prime#autobots#arcee#ratchet#tfp headcanons#reader insert#platonic transformers x reader
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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: indelicate/@steddielations ! They have 13 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!
lees_musings recommends the following works by @steddielations:
A Cup of Good Intentions
Trouble Looks Good On You
Wrap Me Around Your Finger
"their fics are so heartwarming and tender, i read them like comfort food"
"a cup of good intentions was the first steddie fic i read, it has a little velvet box in my heart <3" -- lees_musings
Below the cut, @steddielations answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
They’re just a really fun ship that you can do so many different things with. Just guys who need some healing and loving and I like giving it to them!! Also I see a lot of myself in both Steve and Eddie, so there’s some catharsis in writing them too.
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
Friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, friends with benefits
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
The same as above definitely
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
These are all phenomenal and I think about them every day, they truly stick with me METAMORPHOSES by fastcardotmp3 A Certain Type by ann_anotherthing Sugar on my tongue by deadratz shake and sway me through the night by Craftnarok
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
I feel like I’ve written all the canonverse stuff that I wanted to now, so I’m excited to try out some au’s. Maybe once I finish up my current wips, I have this batman Steve and comic book writer Eddie idea that’s been in my mind forever now
What is your writing process like?
I brainstorm by writing down all the ideas I have for a particular story, then I try to organize it into a plot. Sometimes I just plan scene by scene, but I always write the dialogue first and then build around it.
Do you have any writing quirks?
Usually the best things aren’t added until I’m editing at the end, going back and doing finishing touches. Like with Trouble for instance, I didn’t add the kitchen conversation or the porch swing conversation or the joking scene with Gareth originally, it was all stuff I just decided to add when editing. Same for a lot of my fics, usually the things I get comments about the most are things I almost didn’t add.
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
I’m the worst at scheduling and posting so whenever it’s done is when it goes up
Which fic are you most proud of?
I’m most proud of Bleed Me Dry Before You Go because it’s the fic that I was really able to put the most of myself into.
How did you get the idea for Trouble Looks Good On You?
Well I knew I wanted to write a sub Eddie discovery fic, and honestly this just started as like a gag, just thinking about Steve’s jock habit of slapping asses and what would happen if he did that to Eddie, and that’s what awakens it. Then it gradually became something more serious and more thoughtful. I wanted to explore more of Eddie having this past where he’s had bad experiences with certain dynamics, and what it would mean for him to be comfortable enough to get to explore that side of himself with Steve.
When writing Trouble Looks Good On You, what was something you didn’t expect?
It started out as mostly crack so I didn’t expect it to become my longest, most character involved fic. Also I didn’t expect people to read it or like it because it was mostly for myself, so I’ve been very pleasantly surprised and grateful for the response to it.
What inspired Wrap Me Around Your Finger?
I realized I hadn’t written a virgin Eddie fic, and at the same time I wanted to explore more of what Eddie’s aftermath in Hawkins would be like, the full extent of his injuries and his reputation in the town, and maybe Steve helping him out, so it all meshed together. I worked on this for like a year so it had many phases, but adding in some Flight of Icarus lore also inspired me to make Eddie more gritty in this, very stubbornly attached to his independence, and I just love the depth it gave him in that fic in the end.
What was your favorite part to write from Wrap Me Around Your Finger?
Definitely all the banter, especially during the smut scenes, love a silly smut scene. Also can’t forget “I made sure there’s no stairs”
How do/did you feel writing A Cup of Good Intentions?
I cried so many times writing that. I just put myself in the position of Eddie and Wayne, thinking about my relationship with my dad. It was cathartic just writing that familial bond between Eddie and Wayne, and how deep that love goes through mourning and missing each other and then actually getting to reunite. It was an emotional one.
What was the most difficult part of writing A Cup of Good Intentions?
The fic had several different tones from grieving to yearning to suspense and also fluff and romance, so it was hard to blend that all together and make it flow without whiplash. Not sure if I succeeded but it was hard to do.
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
The cold open in Trouble, where it sounds like they’re hooking up but they’re actually moving an amp, probably the most clever innuendo unfolding I’ll ever make
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
I’ve got some stuff for sub Eddie week but after that I’m just focusing on finishing up Trouble finally
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
At the moment that I’m writing this, I don’t know who nominated me, so I want to say thanks so much to that person!! I’m so flattered and I appreciate it!! Also to anyone who reads my fics, thank you genuinely. And to the mods of this blog, you’re all awesome for doing this and you’re so appreciated in the fandom!!
Thank you to our author, indelicate, and our nominator, lees_musings! See more of indelicate's works featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
#writer's spotlight#writer's wednesday#steddie#steddie fic recs#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#stranger things#ao3 writer#steddie writers
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