#sorryyyyyy it’s so long but I hope this helps!!

[pumpkinsouppe]

I have complete aphantasia and I’ve been drawing my entire life!! Honestly I still kinda think people are lying when they say they can project images and see things with their minds eye bc it sounds so fake fjlsdk

And from what I know about aphantasia, you can’t train yourself to visualize. You can have stronger memories in certain aspects, I’m much better at remembering floor plans than I am faces, but it depends on the person. Also apologies this is gonna be long so I’ll hide under read more jfskdfj

So due to not being able to hold any visual images within your brain, you instead need to rely on other methods and adapt. Similar to if you break your dominant hand and need to adapt to using your non dominant hand. It’ll be hard to figure out at first but there are many things you can do to see what works for you, I’ll detail my process which includes many steps and hopefully it helps!

When I draw, I first determine what I’m in the mood to draw. Since we’re both cotl fans I’ll use cotl as an example! And let’s assume I want to do a unique pose/illustration instead of redrawing a screenshot. I’ve been wanting to draw a piece themed around knuckle bones so let’s start there.

Now that I have a general theme, ask the who what when where why and hows. Who? Well I want at the very least The Lamb and Ratau, but I might also try to include the other knuckle bones players as well. What? The lamb and ratau playing against each other, maybe if I want to make this piece more dynamic one of them could be throwing the dice waiting for the number. When? Well since knuckle bones is played indoors, this doesn’t matter as much but the time of day and lighting could affect the mood of the piece. If your piece was outdoors, what kind of emotion do you want your piece to evoke? What time of day do you personally associate with that emotion? (There’s no one right answer! It depends on how the artist depicts it). Where? Ratau’s house! More specifically if I want to think about this piece focusing on knuckle bones, I’ll want to frame the piece so the knuckle bones table is in most of the drawing. Why? Are you drawing this for fun? For an art shop? For a zine? Why are you making this piece? Your why can determine how much effort and time you spend on your piece. How? How are you making this drawing? Traditional? Digital? With what tools or brushes?

Just from starting with the premise I was able to think of a piece just by answering these questions. But my work doesn’t stop there. Since I have a lot of trouble visualizing, I’m going to need a lot of references to help me draw this piece accurately. This is where I utilize Pinterest, Google images, artists I love, etc. I do have a background in art history so I am able to think of paintings I’ve seen before that could help me with this piece, but if you are blanking on specific inspiration you can always search up things like ‘gamblers playing dice’ or ‘playing at a poker table’ or similar phrases that evoke the same sense of knucklebones (since you probably won’t be able to find much for knucklebones stock photos lolol). With the right phrasing and patience, you could find a reference picture for anything.

You can use these references images to block out your composition. Where do you want the lamb and ratau? Side by side facing the viewer or opposing each other on the left and right side of the table? Or something different? How much of the table do you want to see? Does your illustration fit the other players? How much of the background do you want to see? You can answer a lot of this just by looking at reference images and seeing what compositions you like. There’s no harm in taking inspiration from another’s composition so long as you’re not tracing their art and claiming it as your own

I also like to use sketchbooks. There I’ll write down all my inspirations, what I want in the piece, and make quick thumbnails. The thumbnails help a lot for quick small drawings to see if they fit the type of illustration I want to make. If it doesn’t work then no harm done as it took me like 30 seconds.

From there I start actually drawing, blocking out big shapes first then refining and refining until my sketch layer is ready to lineart… and from there I’m mostly done as I’m no longer using tons of my brain thinking about how I want to layout my piece. It does take a lot of thinking and searching online but it gets a lot faster the more you work. I’ve even gotten to the point where I can draw without needing to find specific reference pics, I’ll just use the character image and see what kind of sketches I can make.

It’s just a lot about training your brain and your muscle memory! The more you do it the easier it’ll be, but it’s hard to get in the habit especially when it seems like you’re at a disadvantage. I didn’t even know I was at a disadvantage until like 4 years ago! I just thought it was normal to think like this and I just adapted to what works for me. I’m also no expert but if you ever have any other questions I can do my best to answer them!! I believe in you and don’t let your aphantasia stop you from making the art you want to make!!!

Is there anyone else who has near complete aphantasia who knows how to draw because how the fuck do I do this I'm dying squirtle

How do I draw without being able to know what the image I'm trying to draw looks like until it's already on the paper/screen lmao

IM GONNA GET BETTER I am gonna Do Hard Things and Succeed but until very recently (and thanks to art) I did not know that not being able to visualize things in your mind wasnt a normal thing. Like if I have an idea of a piece of bread I can't imagine what the bread LOOKS like or "picture" it. Or like, those spatial puzzles where it gives you an image and it tells you "ok choose the image that represents this figure from x angle!" ???????? Motherfucker that feels like telepathy. I swear I thought this was a euphemism and I guess I never noticed because I never tried to use it for something . Anyhow I WANNA MAKE ART ANYWAY EVEN IF ITS HARD

Or wait. Is there a way you can train yourself to be able to imagine how things look like?

[midnighthazee]

Greenridge ABO Series

a/n: WOW YOU GUYS IM SORRYYYYYY!! I've been slacking a little bit and have no good excuse. Don't hate me!! I've been cranking all week to get this writing done since I know y'all are waiting. My lovely Greenies, thank you for your patience!! I LOVE YOU!

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: explicit language, fluff, mentions of murder

WC: 5660

Chapter 14

The manor was quiet as the sun crept in. The wolves returned to their rooms in the basement, getting breakfast and resting. Most of Reed’s men were upstairs sleeping after searching all night, Hudson included. He worried about you, hoping you found a place for the night, as he dozed off.

It was nine am when Reed arrived home. He waltzed right in and went straight for Hudson’s room. He burst through the door, scaring Hudson awake.

“Sleeping are we?” He was angry. “What the fuck did you tell her?”

“Nothing I swear.” Hudson insisted, sitting up and shaking his head.

“Then why are my men telling me she’s gone? I asked you to stay away from her. You helped her escape, didn’t you?” Reed snatched him up by the collar of his shirt.

“No. Reed, I swear. I didn’t. She slipped out just before nightfall. The guards were watching her. I stayed away like you asked.” Hudson’s voice trembled as he assured his brother.

“If I find out you had anything to do with this….” Reed threatened.

He let go of Hudson with a push, making him fall back on the bed.

“Get up, we’re going looking for her.” Reed headed for the hall.

“We looked all night. All the way to town, and then around town.” Hudson said.

Reed came back into his room, getting in Hudson’s face. “If you wanted our sister back, you would have looked harder. Instead of laying here sleeping.”

“Even if you get her back, if she finds out the truth….she’ll just leave again.” Hudson said…more to himself but Reed heard him.

Reed was quick to slap Hudson across the face. “Did you forget who saved you from a life of poverty?”

“No, sir.”

“I’m not weak like father was. Remember that.” And then Reed was off.

Morning came and you all went to breakfast at a diner nearby after checking out of the motel. Hyunjin insisted on getting a meal before hitting the road, instead of just having snack foods. Minho wanted to get back home but gave in after Hyunjin and Felix pouted at him, hugging his arms and pleading for hot food. 

The Enha pack joined in, and you got to know them a bit more as you all chatted in the booth of the diner. It didn’t take long for the food to come out, but you were starving. You couldn’t remember the last time you ate, so you eagerly dug in. The food was good, but you missed Minho’s cooking. 

You looked over to him, noticing his tense posture and the way he kept eyeing everyone in here. The way he kept scanning the parking lot out the window while everyone was lost in conversation, laughing and talking amongst each other. Minho was still keeping watch and somehow you knew he wouldn’t relax until you were back at Greenridge. Hell, he might not even relax then.

You felt guilty. Had you made things worse by running off to save Chan? Maybe the issues at hand would have occurred regardless? You chew your lower lip, wondering what you could do to resolve the problem. You couldn’t just sit back and let them do everything.

“What’s on your mind?” Hyunjin asked, interrupting your thoughts as he leaned over.

“Nothing.” You force a smile.

“You're chewing your lip, staring out in space. You're thinking hard about something...” 

You blush. “Just worrying about Chan…”

“He will be fine. We will get him out.” He squeezes your hand.

“How?” 

“Later. Let’s just enjoy breakfast.” Hyunjin smiles, taking a bite of your toast.

“Hey!” you say, making him smile.

Over the course of the meal, you also relaxed around Alpha Jungwon and his men as the two packs were sitting intermingled. Heeseung was his second in command and the only other alpha in the group - the rest were betas. 

It was nice to see the friendships between everyone. You had never had friends before, and it was something you were hoping to have one day. Maybe even with them someday. Or the other two packs that stayed behind to watch over the house (and be there in case you or the others had come home).

Back in the car, Minho declared another three hours worth of driving before they would arrive home. A few of the members groaned, wanting to be there already. HA headquarters had been nearly six hours away from Greenridge, Blackmane Manor being a little farther. They had driven up most of the way before Jisung had finally hacked his way in and found the address to Blackmane. As for the drive last night, Minho only got halfway home before stopping to rest. Had he not been so tired, he probably would have driven the whole way.

Changbin insisted on driving, allowing Minho a break. He didn’t rest well last night, nor the past week, so Minho agreed and tried to nap while they drove. You were in the way back of the suv, between Jeongin and Minho. In the middle row, Jisung and Felix were video gaming together on their switches while Seungmin drowned them out with his headphones. Hyunjin was in the passenger seat, being a DJ and rapping along to the songs. It made you giggle as you watched, Changbin just shaking his head at him.

After filling up the tank and getting on the road, Minho laid his head on your shoulder. You peeked over as best you could, seeing him resting. You smiled to yourself, resting your head on his. He snaked an arm across your waist, holding you close. Every time he touches you, you swear your mark tingles a little - it was as if it was doing a little happy dance. It wasn’t long before you both were asleep, Jeongin sneaking a photo of you two.

In his cell, Chan was alternating between pushups and crunches. He’d been doing it for the last forty five minutes. He was growing restless and agitated, losing track of the days without a window telling him whether it was light or dark out. He huffed, pacing his room once more as he went stir crazy.

“How are we feeling today, Mr. Bang?” a man’s voice echoed in the hall.

Chan stopped, staring at the door until the man came into view. He was flanked by a security officer.

“Finally!” Chan spoke, throwing a shirt on and coming to the gate. “He was here. My brother’s killer was here, taunting me.”

“Was he now? When?” the man raised an eyebrow at him.

“The first day I was put in a cell. It had to be within the first hour. Please, go look at the cameras.”

“And why would I believe a damn thing you say? Prisoners will say anything to get out, true or not.”

“I swear to god. I’m not lying. I wouldn’t kill anyone to improve my ranking. I was framed.”

“So you said in your statement.” The guy rolled his eyes.

“You’ve gotta believe me, man. I’m not a murderer.”

“And now you’re going to insult me, lying to my face?” the man scoffed. “Did you or did you not kill Hayes and Milo Carver?”

Chan clenched his jaw.

“That’s what I thought.”

“That was different, sir. It was in self-defense. They had me chained and were torturing me.” Chan explained.

“Something you also said in your statement.” he said in an annoyed tone.

Chan rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a smirk.

“I’m not here to rehash your statement. I’m here to bring you before the judge.”

“Now?”

“Yep. Hope your lawyer is ready.”

“I don’t have a lawyer.”

“Shame.” 

The man unlocked the gate, the officer handcuffing Chan’s wrists in front of him. Then he yanked him forward and guided him back to the courtroom he gave his statement in. Chan walked through the doorway and a tunnel (created by the seating above) and into the inner circle. He noticed the circular room was more populated now. 

It had the panel of judges and a jury section to the right that were elevated about ten feet in the air. Chan noticed behind him was the audience section, set at the same height as the panel - it was an intimidation tactic the HA used in all their courtrooms. 

He didn’t see any familiar faces as they all looked down on him from above. Did his pack not know about the trial either? What else were they not sharing?

Chan took his place behind a desk facing the panel. There was another desk, accompanied by a man in a suit who didn’t even bother to look over at him. Chan rolled his shoulders as the security officer connected his cuffs to the desk.

“Defendant Christopher Bang,” the head judge began, silencing the muffled chatter in the room.

“Y-yes, sir.” Chan pushed his shoulder back, standing tall and confident.

“Do you have a lawyer?”

“Uh, no sir.”

“Very well,” he grumbled. 

Was that a smirk on his face Chan saw?

“You’ve been charged with three counts of first degree murder. How do you plead?” the judge on the right asks.

“Uh, not guilty… to one of them.” Chan says. 

The jury mumbles at this.

“I see. And which one is that, Mr. Bang?”

“The murder of Aiden Bang, your honor.”

“You’re claiming you did not kill Aiden Bang?” the one on the left asks.

“No, your honor. He was my older brother who I loved dearly and looked up to. I was ready to be under his Alpha command. He was murdered before my eyes, but the man left before anyone else showed up. When they finally found us, I was covered in his blood from trying to stop the bleeding. When I failed with that, I held him in my arms as he gave his final breath. That is why I had his blood all over me.”

“And who was this man that you believe murdered your brother?” the one on the left questioned.

“I don’t know his name. But he was here. He visited me in my cell.”

“Mr. Bang, you’ve been in solitary confinement for the past week. No one has been allowed to visit you. You’ve only been served food by our employees. Are you insinuating-”

“It was when I was in the holding cell. I hadn’t been moved to solitary yet.” Chan clarified.

“Did you see the man?”

“On the night in question, yes. From my holding cell, no. But I knew his voice.”

“Objection! He can’t know for sure it was him if he didn’t see him. He could be making that up to frame someone.” The man in the suit finally spoke, rising from his chair.

“Mister….Blake? Is that correct?” asked the head judge.

“Griffin Blake, yes. Of the Blackmane pack.” Griffin spoke, adjusting his suit.

Chan whipped his head to look at the man. He didn’t recognize him, nor did he understand why a member of Blackmane was against him when they helped rescue him. 

“What brings you here?” the judge on the right asked.

“I’m here for justice. I was there the night he murder Hayes and Milo Carver.”

“You witnessed the murders?”

“Not first hand, your honor. My Alpha and I, with a few other pack members, had just arrived on scene. We helped to release his pack members and when we came around the corner to the supposed torture room, he was standing there. Blood was spattered on him and the walls. The two men were lying dead on the floor.” Griffin glared over at Chan.

“Is this true, Mr. Bang?”

“I never said I didn’t kill the two of them. But I acted in self defense. The two of them had been torturing me for nearly three days.”

The judges exchanged looks.

“We will look into the camera footage regarding your holding cell. Then we will make a decision, along with the jury, of whether or not to change the charges from three counts to two.” the main judge informed him.

“Thank you sir.” Chan bowed his head.

“Is there anyone we should contact who was there the night your brother was killed?”

“There was no other witness that I know of.” Chan swallows.

“Very well. Dismissed.”

Changbin finally pulled up at the manor, relieved to finally be back home. He turned off the car, everyone moving to get out. You had slept for over an hour before waking up but Minho had just woken up about thirty minutes ago.

You finally climbed out from the back, stretching before Seungmin snuck up behind you and swept you off your feet, spinning you around. You yelped before giggling. He spun you a few times, a big carefree smile on his face.

“Okay, put me down.” you laughed.

He put you down, smiling at you whilst tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You smiled back, biting your lip. He stepped closer and you hoped he would kiss you. Maybe you should kiss him. 

You could feel his warm breath on your skin, hear his heart rate speeding up. You looked down to his lips….wow did they look soft. You looked back up to his eyes which were hooded as he looked at your lips. You leaned forward, ever so slightly.

“Hey guys. Welcome back!” a man’s voice rang out.

You jumped, the interruption breaking the lust bubble you two had just been in. You noticed over a dozen people coming towards you all. There were a lot of people - a lot of smells - and you subtly moved to stand behind Seungmin.

“It’s alright. They’re friends.” Seungmin comforted, taking your hand in his.

You smile, grateful for the physical contact. You were still getting used to new people. And new smells. And large groups of people. You just got used to the Enha pack, now there were several more for you to get acquainted with. As you look at everyone, you realize you knew a few of them from before you ran off to the Nyko house.

“You must be y/n. We’ve heard a lot about you.” one of the new faces says. He was flanked by a couple other unfamiliar faces.

You blush, knowing most of what he heard probably wasn’t good.

“I’m Jaebeom. We are happy you got back safely. Minho called us and let us know when they found you. What luck that you were walking in the street that night.”

You nod, forcing a smile as you shake his outstretched hand.

“Hey you wanna go get settled in your room?” Seungmin asks, noticing your discomfort.

You nod, squeezing his hand inconspicuously. 

“We will catch up with you guys later. She really wants to shower after everything.”

“Of course.” Jaebeom smiles. 

Seungmin leads you off towards the house as some of the others bring in their luggage.

“How was the drive?” You hear Jaebeom ask as you walk off.

You get up into your room, your shoulders relaxing even more at the comfort of your nest.

“Feel better already, huh?” Seungmin asks, leaning against the doorframe.

You nod excitedly. “So much. I didn’t realize how much I would miss my nest.”

“Oh yeah. Nests are crucial for your comfort and security.” Seungmin says, pushing off the frame. “I’ll leave you to shower and settle.”

You nod, taking in your room and its smells. “Oh! Seungmin…”

“Hmm?”

You walk over to Seungmin, lightly kissing him on the lips. Your stomach did flips, butterflies all over, as you moved your lips with his. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush with him as he kisses you back. His tongue swipes your lips, pleading for them to part and grant him access. You let him, intertwining your tongues as you get lost in the kiss.

If it wasn’t for the sudden commotion downstairs, you would have kept going. The laughs and chatter downstairs broke the bubble once more, reminding you to come up for air. You pant, your palms against his chest as you ground yourself.

“Can’t believe I waited so long to do that…” he says breathlessly.

You giggle.

“Go settle in. I’ll see you in a bit.” He kisses your forehead before walking out of your room.

You took in your room one last time before retreating to your bathroom and taking a shower. It was so relaxing to finally shower in your own shower again. You took longer than normal since you didn’t want to leave the warmth.

After getting out and dressed in your own clothes, you open your bedroom door. You go back into the bathroom, putting some lotion on and a few spritz of perfume before coming back out of your bathroom. 

“He kissed you, didn’t he?”

You jumped, only to find Jisung standing there. “Maybe.... Jealous?”

“Yes.” He pouted.

“You could ask for one, you know…” you wink at him.

He blushes, his ears going red as he looks away. “I know.”

With that, he turns from your room and heads to his own, leaving you dumbstruck. You would have kissed him right then if he had asked. So why didn’t he? You groan, going to his room.

“Why aren’t you asking?” 

Jisung shrugged, making you pout.

“If you want to kiss me so bad you could ask me, you know…” Jisung mocks as he digs through drawers in his dresser and throws some clothes on the bed.

You give him a glare, to which he just laughs. 

“You’re cute when you’re mad.” he says. “Now are you here to watch me strip or can I shower?”

You roll your eyes, shutting the door as you exit. You make your way downstairs, finding an array of people sitting around. You get uncomfortable and turn to go back upstairs.

“Ah ah ah…. No running away. You’re safe here. They are good people.” It was Changbin, spinning you around and making you come into the kitchen.

“There she is!” Jungwon cheered, joined by everyone.

You grew embarrassed, hiding your face in Changbin’s chest. Why were they all cheering for you?

“We made food so please come eat.” Woozi said, coming to grab your hand and take you over to the spread on the island. 

Your stomach growled in response, making you realize how hungry you really were. So you reluctantly let them feed you, filling a plate with food. Hyunjin sat next to you, helping you eat some of it. You were grateful for his never ending appetite - him and Changbin as they nibbled off your plate before getting their own. 

After eating, the packs decided to go home to refresh themselves. They would regroup soon to find a way to get Chan out, but for now it was good to get some quality pack time. And now that the house was quieter, Minho insisted on the rundown of everything that happened. So you told them. But first you apologized for running off and worrying them.

Then you told them how you snuck downstairs only to find Lewis dead. How you passed out and woke up in a hotel. How you found out Reed was your eldest brother.

“I thought you had a younger brother.” Jeongin says.

“I do, his name is Hudson.” you say. “I didn’t know about Reed. But apparently my parents sold him off, just like me.”

“And you believed him?”

“He knew a lot of facts…” you shrugged. “Some he couldn’t know unless he was telling the truth.”

The boys exchanged looks but didn’t say anything more.

So you told him what he told you about Chan and how they were sent to HA for their statements. Hyunjin and Jisung confirmed that did in fact happen, but they didn’t get the guy’s name. They also told you the girl who was your old cell neighbor was named Piper, and that she said Lewis sold off the omega male to a pack in Montana.

You were wondering why Reed only mentioned Piper, but that made sense. What didn’t make sense was why Lewis sold an omega in the first place, but it was irrelevant now.

You proceeded to tell them that he brought you to HA for your statement, then you both left promptly after and returned to his manor.

“Wait, so you were at his place the whole week?” Changbin asked.

“Yes…against my will. He kept promising to take me home but all I got were excuses.” you rolled your eyes.

“Do you know about the wolves he had?”

“They are his night patrol. He believes they are more loyal apparently. He only lets them out at night I guess, otherwise they are in their own sort of cell.” You tell them.

“Interesting.” Changbin ponders.

“Yeah, they nearly bit off Changbin’s leg.” Seungmin states.

“What?!” You sit up straighter.

“We were trying to rescue you and jumped the fence. But we couldn’t get to the house because they came running. Worked out though since you weren’t even there.” Minho shrugged.

“So then what?” Felix asked you.

You tell them about Hudson. And how you escaped. You tell them about the bar and how Hudson helped you get out. They were shocked to learn he was there but happy that you got to see him. 

Once they were caught up, they caught you up with their side. How they were collecting allies. How the three of them were in a car accident on the way home, thanks to Lewis. It panged your heart to hear that they were going through this.

They told you about how they went to get you from Lewis, only to find dead bodies and an empty house. They told you about how they followed the Blackmane clue to HA and how they begged to see Chan. And they explained why he was stuck there, Minho explaining Chan’s past.

It made you mad to know that Chan was locked up with no visitors while they worked the trial. Or that they wouldn’t believe him about his own brother. Jisung grabbed his laptop and began researching, sudden inspiration sparked.

“Hey guys, Chan had his first meeting with the judges today.” Jisung furrowed his brow as everyone listened intently. “He was charged with three counts of first degree murder. But they are reviewing evidence and will see if it drops to two charges.”

Minho sighed, rubbing his temples. 

“Maybe we can communicate with him through his lawyer.” Felix suggested.

“It says here he represented himself.” Jisung said.

“Why would he do that?” Hyunjin asked.

“Maybe they didn’t let him have a lawyer.” Jeongin shrugged.

“So we send a lawyer his way, with a message from us.” Seungmin suggests. “They can’t turn down a lawyer.”

“Good idea. Find him a good one too. He’s going to need it.” Minho instructs Jisung, who spends the rest of the evening doing that.

That night, you were eager to sleep in your own bed. Your nest had been calling your name all day, the blankets and pillows galore. You piled some blankets and pillows on your bed, grabbing one of the books from your library. Is it a library if there’s only five books so far? You already read one, so you started a new one. You only managed five pages, however, before you fell asleep.

It was hours later when you woke up, realizing your door was still cracked open and your lamp was on. You got up, put your book on the nightstand, and turned off your lamp. You walked over to shut your door but stopped at the sound of whimpers. Who was that?

You walked into the hall, following the sound. It was coming from Felix’s room. You hadn’t seen much of him that day since returning home, Seungmin and Jeongin keeping you to themselves. Cautiously, you tried the handle, finding it unlocked.

You crept inside, closing the door behind you. Tiptoeing over, you look at the blonde boy. His sweet face was scrunched as if in pain, his lips pouting and his brows furrowed. He was jerking a little back and forth as if fighting off something in his sleep.

A gasp leaves your mouth when you hear him mumble your name. It was faint but you heard it. Was he dreaming about you?

You reach out and shake his shoulder gently. He doesn’t wake so you shake a little harder, whispering his name.

“Felix…”

“Mmm, what?” he jumped up. “Y/n? You’re here!?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

He pulled you into a desperate hug, squeezing you tight. You didn’t miss the twinkle of fear in his eyes as he did so. You returned the hug, rubbing his back soothingly. You two stayed like that for a moment before he spoke.

“I keep having this nightmare that you’re taken from us and we find you…dead.” he whispers as he holds you close.

“Well, it’s just a bad dream. I’m very much alive.” you chuckle.

Felix pulls away and looks into your eyes. “W-would it be okay if you, um…would you want to-to stay? It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable. I just-”

“Felix…” you say, cupping his face. “I would love to stay.”

He nodded, blushing. 

Felix moves to lay down, opening the sheets for you. You climb in, back to him as you rest your head on his pillow. He lays the covers over you before laying down himself. He hesitates for a moment, before putting his arm around you and pulling you closer to him. You snuggle back into him, smiling to yourself. His scent was everywhere and it made you feel so comfortable and relaxed.

“Felix?”

“Hmmm?” 

You turned in his arm, facing him. You look into his eyes, now a deep blue in the faint shine of the moonlight peeking through his curtains. You leaned forward, kissing him deeply. His arm tightened around your waist as he kissed you back. It was sweet and gentle but still had so much love and passion in it. Your tongues danced together as you rested your hand on the side of his neck.

You pulled away, smiling up at him. “I love you too.”

Felix smiled, rubbing his nose with yours briefly before kissing you again.  He was floating after finally hearing you say it back.

After what felt like forever, you finally came up for air once more, turning in his arms so that he was spooning you again. He held you tight, the both of you falling asleep fairly quickly. 

“Wake up, Mr. Bang.” a hoarse man’s voice interrupting his thoughts.

“I wasn’t asleep.” Chan says, sitting up from the bed.

“Step up.” the officer motioned for him to come forward.

Chan stepped up to the gate and offered his wrists. The guard opened the door of his cell and handcuffed his wrists. 

“They made a decision already? Has it even been a day?”

The guard didn’t say anything. He continued to lead Chan down the hall, stopping before the end and bringing him into a room he hadn’t been in before.

Inside the room was a table and two chairs sitting opposite of each other. One chair had a man in a suit sitting there, a briefcase on the table.

Chan looked at him confused as the cop locked his handcuff to the notch on the table. Chan sat, waiting for the guard to leave.

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Bang.” the man spoke. “My name is Park Seojoon. I will be your attorney.”

“I didn’t think they were giving me a lawyer…” 

“I was hired by Lee Minho. He told me to report here urgently for your case.” Seojoon placed a brown paper bag on the table. “Please eat.”

“How did he know?” Chan asked, eagerly opening the bag and seeing edible looking food for once.

“Your case has made the local news.” Seojoon pursed his lips.

“Oh great.” Chan groaned, running his hands through his hair.

“He also told me to give you this envelope.” The man passed him a padded envelope. “Now, everything you say is confidential. It stays between us. Whether you’re guilty or not, we will fight to remove or at least reduce the charges. So catch me up to speed.”

Chan spent the next hour giving Seojoon every detail he asked for, full honesty, as he ate his lunch. Seojoon felt confident in the case and getting him off with a mild punishment like probation.

“The last possible option you could do is a battle of the alphas. Prove your True Alpha status. If you killed your brother, you wouldn’t possess that strength.” Seojoon offered. “But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Yeah, I’d rather it not.”

“Alright. Well, I will coordinate with the judges and be here for the next trial. We got this.” Seojoon fist bumped Chan.

Seojoon left and the guard came to return Chan to his cell.

Back in his cell, Chan opened the envelope and was pleased to find all of his pack wrote little notes. He smiled to himself, his heart warming. 

Jisung: I miss you Chan Hyung. Don’t worry Hyunjin and I got home safely. We are working hard to free you. I can’t wait to have you home again. Love you! - x Ji

Seungmin: I need you to hurry up and get home. Being in charge of everyone is so much work. It’s exhausting honestly….I don’t know how you do it. Hurry home hyung. - Love Seungmin.

Changbin: I hope you at least stay in shape. You know how to do it without equipment! At least push ups, crunches, maybe bar raises if you can.

It was a little rough there for a minute but we are managing. So don’t worry about us - Minho and I got this. We miss you terribly. Love you, hope to see you soon. - Love Changbin.

Felix: Channie Hyung! I miss you! I’m going to try not to cry as I write this. Minho is taking such good care of us. Changbin too. So you don’t have to worry about us. We are in good hands. How are you? I hope you are eating well. I hope the guards aren’t being mean to you. Are you resting? Please rest!

Oh also, y/n is doing well! I’m sure you miss her a lot. She misses you a lot too. I found her in your room this morning sniffing a shirt you left behind. We had our first kiss last night! It was amazing! I probably shouldn’t be bragging… Sorry Hyung, I’m just so excited. Anyways, Minho is yelling at me to hurry up. I love you! I miss you! See you soon! - Love, Lixie XOXO

Hyunjin sent a drawing he made with a note attached saying: To make those cement walls a little less drab ;). - Love you! 

Jeongin: Hyung! I’ve been getting better with my control! I haven’t had an outburst the whole time you’ve been gone. Despite all the stress, my training and everything you taught me is working. I’m sure the others are telling you it’s all good here and not to worry. And it is…finally. A lot has happened without you here. But this isn’t the way to tell you. Things are finally feeling normal again…as normal as can be without our alpha. Just know we are okay and fighting to bring you home. - Love Innie.

Minho: Felix is making everyone write a letter to you. I just wanted to give you an update via the lawyer that everything is good on our end…but Felix said I should say more. So…is this enough? 

I have stuff to tell you but it’s better face to face…at least I hope it will be. It’s not bad…I guess… so don’t worry. I just…I’m taking care of everyone. I’m being the alpha you always knew I could be. Although I prefer being second in command…but for you…I’ll do this as long as I have to. I’m going to get you home. No Matter What. So just hang in there and know we are out here fighting for you. Okay…Felix said it’s long enough now. Love you. See you soon! - Minho

Chan smiled and laughed, occasionally wiping away some of the tears that fell as he read the notes from his mates. He missed them terribly, but was happy to see everything was okay on their end. He was so worried Lewis had done something…or his pack would in retaliation. And everyone said so much happened….he wondered what went down in his absence.

The last letter in the envelope was from you.

Hi Chan,

Channie…not really sure what to say. I miss you…a lot. I’m furious that I was there at the same time. If only I could have seen you before you were put in solitary. Just another hug or kiss…

Your scent is faint in your room. I miss it. I felt so safe and secure with you around. I don’t know how I went my whole life without you in it (or any of the boys). I feel safe with the boys too of course. :) 

A lot has happened since you’ve been gone. I don’t want to burden you with all the details… Okay maybe one: I learned I had an older brother. I don’t know how I feel about him though. His name is Reed Kang. Apparently he’s the alpha to the Blackmane pack. They helped free you so maybe you met him already. I don’t know how I feel about him yet. I think there’s still a part of me that might feel he’s lying about our connection but I don’t know. 

He found my little brother Hudson though! Hudson’s a part of his pack too. I wish he could join ours… but I don’t know how those things work. Or even if he would want that. So that’s a discussion for later. 

Anyways, I miss you Channie. Come back soon! Especially because I really wanna say those three words to you…. - Love, y/n

TAGLIST:

@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1 @bah2004 @sinfulfic @bowsnbang @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @dreamerwasfound @motheraiya55 @m00njinnie @writeuntilthebitterend @jutdwae-flower @staytinyluv @emmxxsworld @galaxy4489 @wolfo2027 @iknow-uknow-leeknow @thatgirlangelb @fr34k4c1dr41n @stwq2349 @rylea08 @sang-09 @scarlet789 @hxnnielk

Shout out to my lovely beta @cherry-erii

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Hey I’m not sure if you’re doing requests right now (if not then please just ignore😭) if you are doing requests I was wondering if you could write and Aemond x Wife Reader where she’s with child, in where the dinner scene takes place but when Jace goes to hit Aemond the reader tries to stop him and jace blond in anger pushes her and she falls to the floor and starts to bleed (the child is okay in the end) and it the whole table goes quite! Please and thank you!! I love your writing sm💕💕

'If looks could kill'

A/N: I got this request ages ago so sorryyyyyy~ I was unsure how to approach this one as there is a very similar fic by the wonderful @aemonds-war-crime and I was really weary and making it not too similar, hopefully I did it? lol

Go read theirs cos honestly it's better anyway

Warnings: mention of miscarriages, hurt reader, protective aemond, childbirth / Ao3 link

You raised your arms out in a silent plea, feeling too heavy and weak to be able to pull yourself up. Smiling up to him, you wiggle your fingers.

“A little help?” you say in a half-mischievous tone. 

“Hm” Aemond responded with that half-smile before bending at the knees to take your hands to pull you up. 

You feigned a groan of pain as you came to your feet, one hand stationed under the large bump as if for protection. It took no effort from Aemond at all to pull you up and he smoothed his large hands down your side. He stood before you in silence, but you could feel his eye over your form, beaming with pride at the bump that touched against him. So much so, he placed his palm to it and closed his eye. His expression was so peaceful you would think he is falling asleep, but with a soft laugh you lay your own palm on his face, softly stroking your thumb against it. 

When he looks down at you, there is a flash of worry.

“Are you sure you are well enough to do this?” he asks.

Without a beat, you nod, hand still finding its home on his face. 

It was only natural that Aemond was worried for you throughout this long and tortuous pregnancy. He had concerned himself with your wellbeing the entire time, making sure the right foods and the right care was provided, lest the servants feel the wrath of a Targaryen soon-to-be father.

It made you regard him with love and trust the way he took care of you. But a tug of sadness was always there.

Before this pregnancy, your marriage had been plagued with a few miscarriages, some later than others, but still painful nonetheless. The first had been the most painful to your emotions and every one after had chipped a little piece of you away with it. But what worried you the most was the extent at which Aemond seemed to hide his own feelings from you. He was always there for comfort when it happened and you desperately wanted him to at least tell you what was on his mind. If he was grief-stricken, would he tell you?

When this pregnancy came around, there was a deep, dark and hurt part of you that thought it would not last. You thought to not get any hopes of passing a particular milestone and many nights you were crying in Aemond’s arms just praying for the Gods to end it if it was not to result in a baby. To spare you the sadness and grief at another lost child.

But days, weeks and months passed and you only swelled more. You would pull the dress under your bump in the mirror to see how big you had gotten and a motherly pride would overwhelm you at the feeling of growing Aemond’s child and heir inside you. 

You meet Aemond’s gaze, half-worried, “Are you going to be alright?”

He sighs deeply, “I shall have to be”

You send him a sad smile, resting your hand on top of his, “And you will not antagonise them?”

I raise my eyebrow when Aemond doesn’t respond, a smirk appears on his face.

“I am not sure if that’s a promise I can make”

You huff a laugh and press a quick kiss to his lips, closing your eyes to savour the feeling of him alone with you before you were to share the evening with Rhaenyra and her children.

“Just try and be good” 

You smile, knowing that he most certainly will not. 

Between waddling to the table and feeling the kicks of the baby against your insides, the evening wasn’t so bad. There was a bit of squabbling for certain and some glares exchanged, namely by Aemond and Luke, but you supposed it was to be expected. Nobody had expected them to be the best of friends after all. 

You pushed the food around your place, feeling your appetite dwindle as the night went on. Even the comfort of wine didn’t seem to touch the discomfort you felt at the baby resting on your pelvis. But nothing seemed to cause more discomfort than when Viserys was escorted from the table back to his chambers. The atmosphere changed entirely and there was a thick layer of tension to the room, threatening to snap at any moment.

You watched as Jace invited Helaena for a dance. It would have been nice to see had Aegon not adopted a sour frown at the sight of the brunet’s hands on his sister-wife. Perhaps he felt embarrassed, you were not sure, but it was certainly of no bother to you as you closed your eyes, one hand rested at the bump. A habit adopted only in the last month or two.

You jumped slightly and opened your eyes when Aemond squeezed his hand over yours, looking at you with concern.

“Are you alright, my love” he asked.

You nodded slowly, “Just tired. I may retire soon”

Aemond tapped your hand before pulling back, passing a scathing look to the younger brunet at the other side of the table. Your eyes watch your husband as a roasted pig is brought to the table, and to your discomfort, is placed right before your husband. You close your eyes, hoping Luke isn’t stupid enough to retort to it, but when Aemond turns to see Luke and a hateful smirk makes its way to his face, you know it was too late for the kind words of a wife to bring him back.

Luke immediately ceases his laughter when Aemond’s fist makes contact with the table, standing with his cup. You open your mouth to ask Aemond to calm down, but the words tumble from your husband’s mouth before you get the chance. Everyone in the room has their eyes trained on Aemond. 

The tension in the room is as tight as a bowstring. 

“Final tribute” he finally says. His deep voice resonates throughout the room, authoritative and well-meaning in his eyes.

“To the health of my nephews”

His eye meets Jace, who is sending daggers at him from across the room, “Jace” Aemond says.

“Luke”

The younger brunet pretends to feign indifference, but he must know as well as everyone else, he is afraid of what his Uncle might do or say, given the circumstances of their relationship. 

“And Joffrey”

The table braces themself for more. You look up to your husband on the off chance he is looking down at you to ask him to stop, but he is far too deep now.

“Each of them handsome, wise…”

Alicent looks as if she might throw up anticipating what Aemond then says.

“...strong”

“Aemond” Alicent scolds in a soothing voice, her panicked eyes meet yours. Both the women in Aemond’s life give one another a silent plea that all this end, but powerless to do anything to stop him. And in some strange truth, perhaps Aemond deserves to have this word in some way.

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys”

Jace’s return sounds angrier even though he is to your back and you cannot see his face, “I dare you to say that again”

“Why?” Aemond barks back, “T’was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?”

You had enough and you rise from your chair as Aemond rounds the table to approach Jace. 

“That is enough, Aemond” you scold quietly, placing yourself before him. 

Aemond attempts to go around you, but Jace is already advancing and before you know it he is almost right before you. He looks blind with rage, almost unrecognisably so and there is something in his eye which seems unhinged, as if not thinking clearly. 

Instinctively, you step in front of Aemond, arm reaching across as if you could offer any protection despite Aemond’s clearly larger frame. But Jace’s eyes only land on his Uncle and without thinking he places his palm flat on your shoulder to shove you out of the way to land a punch to the side of Aemond’s face. 

You gasp out as your hand reaches out for the table as you tumble, your weight off balance due to the bump before you. But your eyes widen when your hands miss the table and you topple over the chair to land square on your front on the cold, hard stone floor, landing with a groan of pain.

Hands flat on the stone floor, it takes you a moment to really realise what has happened. Everyone in the room takes a breath and is completely silent while they watch you come to the realisation of what had just happened. Pushing yourself from the floor shakily, you realise you have landed on your bump and a sound halfway between a cry and a choke escapes you as you feel the familiar ache in your womb. 

You look up to Aemond with glassy eyes and his form is entirely still, his face stoic and you see his eye flit from you to Jace. His whole body is charged with something and you realise exactly what it is when in just a second he had Jace pressed against the wall, his dagger pressed against the older brunet’s throat. His expression is not crazed or angry and you are surprised just how calm Aemond looks as he threatens Jace’s life.

Jace blabbers incoherently, making half-apologies. All on deaf ears.

Alicent rounds the table in a jog to kneel by you and she goes from helping you to a more comfortable position, to wiping away the tears on your face. 

“You dare harm my wife, bastard” Aemond spits, pinning the smaller boy to the wall with ease.

You grip Alicent’s forearm, a new wave of pain crashing through you, taking every ounce of strength with it. She looks down at you with furrowed eyes and out-of-breath you say,

“What’s happening…?” you ask, feeling a warm sensation between your legs. 

Rhaenyra and Daemon only watch from the other side of the table as the scene unfolds. Daemon has one hand resting on his sword’s handle, just in case anything goes too far, a sickening smirk on his face.

You look up to Aemond to find he is already staring down at you. The previous anger now turned to complete shock and concern at the situation that has befallen the evening. With a soft sheen of sweat on your face and the lines of tears that had run down your face, you meet his gaze with concern and fear. This feeling you knew and you shook your head, it could not be another, could it? Could the gods truly be this cruel?

Alicent is jittering with anxiety and pulls Aemond off of Jace, having spaced out with the blade still at the brunet’s throat. 

“Aemond…” you let out a quiet sob as he kneels to you, “...something is wrong…”

Without thinking, Aemond brings your body into his arms, rushing you with an entourage of people to your chambers. Before he has a chance to question, the family are pushed to the other side of the door, various maesters and midwives all filing in to fill their stations. It was like preparing for battle.

Concealed on the outside, Aemond was entirely inconsolable and paced for hours, flinching whenever you made a sound that evoked pain. He felt his fist clench so hard he thought the bones may give out, and he imagined bashing Jace’s head through for merely laying a hand on you in your delicate condition. Oh the things he would like to do to that boy.

But the sheer anxiety of your situation had him obediently outside your chambers. The family could only wait for those fated doors to open. Alicent grasped her son’s arm in comfort, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Aemond had been sitting outside the doors for hours now and to put it bluntly, he had made himself sick with worry for your wellbeing. He had heard very little through the thick doors, and this seemed to concern him even more. His eye looked up to find Alicent pacing the hallway before him, seemingly attempting to soothe herself. 

One side of the door opened and the maester poked his head out and almost immediately Aemond stood to attention, lending his ear to the maester to whisper. It was the dead of night and in fact may have been very early the next morning, and the Keep was completely silent, even the whispers of the maester seemed to echo.

Face blanched with worry, Aemond was allowed into the room. His gaze scanned the room in a panic, eventually landing on your form, sitting upright in the bed you shared together. Your tired eyes met him and gave him a soft, but exhausted smile, one hand underneath a bundle held tightly to your chest. Your husband’s ghostly white expression never faltered once, fully expectant for all this to be some cruel dream. 

You extended a hand out to him and swallowing heavily, Aemond dragged his feet over to you and shakily reached out to touch you. You pulled him to sit next to you, but his gaze was stuck on you the entire time to observe you. Your shift had been abandoned and a silk robe had been tied around you as you laid in bed, multiple cushions and blankets stacked upon one another to create the soft mound to rest your body against. 

Your face was flushed and a thin layer of sweat was still evident on your brow, but all the same, your smile warmed him. You huff a laugh as you lay a hand against his face,

“My love” you say, bringing him out of a trance-like state, “this is our daughter” 

His eyeline follows yours down to your chest, where a small bundle of a baby was suckling against your chest. A warmth that was not previously there spreads through Aemond’s heart almost painfully and some semblance of colour is once again painted at his cheeks.

His index finger reaches out to stroke the infant’s head. Halfway between a choked sob and a laugh rattles through Aemond’s chest. The infant was small, but flushed with a pink flush, looking healthy. You leaned forward to stroke his hair and he leaned against you, placing his forehead with yours. A silent act of love.

He grasped your hand tightly, not wanting to let go.

“Well done, my love” he said quietly, “I thought the worst”

You look back down at your daughter, who made a content sound, “I did as well” you admit.

After a few minutes, Aemond stood and straightened his clothing, turning towards the door.

“Aemond” you call after him.

His purple eye lands on you once more, softening instantly.

“Don’t hurt him too badly” you smile.

[thebibliosphere]

This is just a silly little ask:

I finally started reading True Love Pangs ( I needed to be in the right headspace because I figured I was going to be way too obsessed and emotionally involved (I was right)). I love this book so much, it's so good!

I love the way each character has a specific voice, but it's still recognizable as your writing. I've read so many books where all the different povs feel the same, but this is so well done.

There's so many things I want to say, but I won't, because it would take too long and I want to finish reading it lmao

Just... Thank you, for writing this, for hitting that specific queer romance fantasy corner, for bringing joy into my life and helping me get back into fantasy romances in general!

I'm so sorry I'm so sleep deprived (new born baby, breastfeeding) I didn't even realize I butchered the title of the book. I feel stupid lmao.

Anyway I still love it sorryyyyyy

----

Oh my god, please don't feel bad! I was grinning like a loon the whole time. (do you have any idea how many times I type "hungry pants" in my tags? so many times)

The fact that you took the time to send me such an AMAZING message while sleep-deprived with a newborn is incredible, and I'm so, so happy you're enjoying it.

I hope all is well with you and the little one, and you get a chance to rest soon. If not, I hope my characters can keep you company 😅

[hiskillingjar]

Heeey if ur down maybe

Strade x reader...but it's like a hitch hiker situation it's like 3 am and he picks them up off the side of the road yadda yadda their phone is dead maybe some awkward small talk (I can imagine th asking if he wants to play I spy or something)

Anyway I'm getting off track we all know hitch hiking is dangerous we've all heard horror stories of girls hitch hiking and then she's found in a ditch chopped into a billion pieces we all know this so does reader...so they keep asking if he's gonna kill them every five minutes...they're weirdly into it too

Sorry it's so long and just rambling I got off track I just really love strade

haughhhh this prompt haunted me and i just had to fill it. not totally what you asked for but. like. same vibe ya know?

3200+ words, cw for like. the lead up to actual noncon, i love strade most when he's evil and sexy and condescending sorryyyyyy. also crossposted on ao3 because i like having my longer fics there

"Hey, buddy, climb in!"

When the large, black SUV slid to a stop beside the road’s dirt path, you could have cheered. 

You had been walking for what felt like hours after getting off the bus at its last stop, your thumb raised high beside you in hopes of someone pitying you and stopping to pick you up. Had this stranger not stopped, you might have considered calling it quits and sitting in the cold to wait it out until morning rather than exhausting yourself with the walk.

Thank god you didn’t have to worry about that.

"Hey! Thanks for pulling over!" You beamed brightly and politely, as you climbed into the front of the stranger's truck, running a hand through your messy hair and dusting your boots off before you got comfortable in the expensive-looking car. "I really appreciate it, man, I've been standing there for, like, an hour now."

His own smile widened, dimpling handsome smile lines and crinkling his golden eyes. You had no idea what a guy like this was doing travelling on the highway at three in the morning, but you were sure that he would say the same about you, so didn’t think much about your wondering.

"Oh no, that sucks.” He said with a sympathetic click of his tongue. “Here, let me help you with that, you must be exhausted after such a tough night."

The friendly attitude remained as he reached out for your backpack, showing off muscular (albeit slightly scarred) arms and tan skin. You smiled appreciatively, all the same, as he took your backpack and tossed it into the back seat of the truck, before starting the engine back up with a twist of the keys in the ignition.

"Yeah, uh, I accidentally rode the bus to the end of the line and...yeah, the last stop was a little over two miles away?" You said, buckling your seatbelt as he pulled off the dirt path and continued down the road. "It's a total ghost town there, and I have no charge on my phone either. I really thought I'd be walking all night."

His smile shifted into a more sympathetic expression before it went to the road ahead of him.

"Ah, I feel you on the phone thing, it really sucks when your battery decides to die on you when you need it most.” He replied, both hands on the wheel, as he let the speed of the truck climb back up to the naturally higher speed of a highway drive. “No charge, huh? What a shame."

You nodded, unsure of what else to say.

"So, what's in the backpack?” He asked after barely a beat, and you got a sense that he wasn’t one to stay in silence for long. You didn’t mind the opportunity for small talk though, not really, even if it was late at night and…you mostly just wanted to get some rest. “You a tourist, or..."

"Yeah, kind of a tourist." You nodded with a little smile. "Um, I'm trying to get to Toronto, actually. I know that's pretty far, so no pressure to get me there,” You chuckled awkwardly. “But I think there's a bus station nearby, a few towns over? I was just gonna stay there tonight and get another ticket in the morning."

He nodded along as you spoke, an attentive audience member, like he was listening to you in place of late-night talk radio or music.

"Oh, so you've got quite the journey ahead, huh?" He peered towards you out of the corner of his eye when you nodded in response to his question. 

"Mmhmm, it’s still another day or so of travel,” You said with a shrug and a little nod. “So, um, I didn't get your name?"

"Ah, right, yeah, I forgot to tell you."

He took his eyes off the road for a moment to smile at you.

"Name's Strade,” No last name. Makes sense, you probably wouldn’t have told him your last name, either. “And you are...?"

You smiled back and told him your name.

"And, um,” You tittered a little coyly. “You know, I’m just trying to make small talk here, but I'm noticing a bit of an accent there...not Canadian, huh?"

He laughed, a friendly and warm chuckle that put you at ease, despite your less-than-ideal situation.

"Haha, you're good.” He said, sounding genuinely impressed. “Yeah, not Canadian. German, actually. I’ve been living here for, ah…” He sucked a hiss in through his teeth and tilted his head in thought. “A while. Just never managed to shake the accent, I guess."

"No, that's super cool. I’ve always thought Germany was an interesting place" You nodded with a bit more of a smile. "I've never been there, or anywhere in Europe or anything, but I've always wanted to."

"Oh yeah?” He hummed thoughtfully, still smiling. “You should definitely visit, it's great...I mean, yeah..." He peered out his window as he turned onto a new road, though you hadn’t seen where the illuminated sign was leading him. "The people...the cities...you know…” He continued, his words trailing off and his tone sounding distracted as he drove. “Germany's great...beautiful country...definitely worth the visit."

"Mm," You nodded. "Sounds nice."

After another long moment of silence (with you staring out the window, not seeing much other than fields and woods, and him focusing on driving and looking more and more put off by the quiet), he cleared his throat and reached up with one hand to rub his stubbly (and scarred) chin. 

"Listen…not to be intrusive or anything, I'm just trying to make some small talk,” He placed his hand back on the wheel, though he was still smiling. “But what's a pretty girl like you doing all by themselves, anyway? What, not got a boyfriend to travel with you?"

You let out an uncomfortable laugh, a slight flush coming to your cheeks as you tried to think of an appropriate (and smart) response. 

You knew you should have been...put off, to say the least, by a stranger asking why you were alone in the middle of the night, but...well, he had picked you up in the middle of nowhere, and you kind of owed him for that. Maybe he was just a curious guy.

And…he was pretty hot. Maybe he was just asking so he could make a pass at you.

"Hah, nope, all on my lonesome. But, um," You bit your lip, considering your next words very carefully. If you said something about…meeting people, perhaps, maybe it would have been enough to scare off any darker intentions he might have had with you. "I have friends in the city that I'll be staying with who know I’m coming. So, just need to get there, ya know."

He nodded again, smiling as casually as he had been.

"I see.” He said simply. “So, you must be pretty brave then, huh? Not many girls your age would feel safe travelling and staying in a bus station all alone without any protection, especially not these days."

An idle smirk crossed his lips as he kept his eyes forward, tapping the steering wheel with the pale palms of his hands.

"Lots of weirdos on these roads late at night, ya know?” His golden eyes went to yours then, and you could see they had narrowed just a touch, his eyebrows quirking with a silent challenge, or...threat. “Good thing I found you first, hm?"

"Mmhmm..." You nodded politely, letting out another uncomfortable chuckle. 

"Mhm…” He mimicked. “But, maybe we should change topics, ja? Let's talk about something...a bit more interesting~"

"Interesting?" You looked up at him with a curious blink, watching as he turned the truck again and started down a darker road, surrounded by woods. You still didn’t have a reason to be concerned though…at least, that’s what you were telling yourself. "How do you mean?"

"Oh, you know...a little more personal." He suggested with a shrug of his shoulders, like he was trying to appear more casual. "How old are you?"

"Oh, I'm twenty," You replied, raising a brow. "Yeah, second year of college, actually. I'm on spring break."

"Really?" He said, raising his own brows with pseudo-surprise. "Wow, I'm almost double that....way to make me feel like a creepy old man picking up a vulnerable girl on the side of the road, hah."

"Hah," You chuckled awkwardly, a slight flush coming to your face as you chewed the inside of your cheek. You’d read countless horror stories about this situation, and yet, when you were sitting in it, you still couldn’t help but be a little charmed by him and his self-deprecation. "Y-Yeah, sorry...um, I don't think you're creepy, though. I actually really appreciate it. I would have been stuck there all night, if you hadn't picked me up." You smiled. “Thank you.”

"Aw, how sweet," He crooned, taking one hand from the steering wheel and placing it on your bare thigh, making your breath hitch tightly. Denim shorts had been a fine choice when you dressed that morning, but a far stupider one at three in the morning, it seemed. "You really are very gracious, aren't you?"

"Mm..." You dug your teeth into your bottom lip as his hand roamed further up your thigh, calloused skin against smooth, goose-pimpled flesh.

"But, ah, graciousness can only get you so far in this world, right?" He said after a beat of silence, his voice taking on a lower tone as he looked towards you, pulling the truck to the side of the road and…slowing it to a stop.

"Huh?"

You didn't expect (though maybe you should have, considering all the hints he had been dropping) for him to stop the car, and you suddenly felt a lot more scared to be in a strange truck, in a strange country, with a strange man.

"If you're too grateful,” He murmurs, taking the keys out of the ignition. “Some people can take advantage. And why wouldn't they."

Your polite (albeit tight) smile dropped and you swallowed tightly, as you saw him pocket his keys and turn to you, those golden eyes that had once been so inviting narrowed and sinister, as the hand on your thigh crawled further and further up.

"It's late at night, we're all alone, you’re in some…stranger’s truck,” He cut himself off with a chuckle and a shake of his head, like he was chiding you. “And who knows what someone could do to you."

Now that the car was stopped, he was able to lean in a little closer to you, the hand on your thigh ascending to your hip.

“Helpless, right?”

"Ah..." 

You let out a little whimper, swallowing tightly as he pressed himself even closer towards you, sliding a knee under himself so he could push himself forward, over the wide console of the truck. 

You were so stupid. 

Your pocket knife, your only means of protection while you were on the road, was in your backpack, of all places, which was in his back seat…where he had thrown it. Somehow, though, you had a sense that even if you did have a weapon of some kind, some sort of defence against him, it probably wouldn't have done anything to stop him, anyway. 

The predatory glint that had always been in his eyes, looking back on the encounter retroactively, became a whole lot less concealed, as he reached up and idly pushed a thick chunk of your hair behind your ear, almost like he was admiring you innocently. His mouth tilted into a mocking smile and his tone became lower and even more lecherous.

"Twenty,” He said, like he was reminiscing. “Just twenty years old and doing this all by yourself. So young...and so pretty too.” He leaned a little closer, so close you could smell the thick scent of motor oil and sweat lingering on him. “It would be a shame if something happened to a girl like you..."

He let out a small chuckle, keeping his gaze locked on yours as his hand shifted from your hip and down to his side.

Your eyes followed it almost instantly. You didn't know what he was doing, but you knew that it couldn’t be good.

Strade noticed your gaze too, raising his brows and giving you a smile that he had practised so many times before, one that was supposed to settle a nervous spirit, a fretting hostage. He shifted his hand to the side, making it seem as if he was just casually adjusting himself, when, in fact, he was hiding something else, something much darker and more sinister altogether.

"Were you not scared...of a stranger like me, picking you up in the middle of the night?" He tilted his head, considering you closely like you were a new specimen for examination.

“Strade,” You mumbled softly, your eyes flitting to the side to try and spot your backpack. “Come on…let’s not do this.”

"Now, now...don't be so frightened.” He said, with almost the start of a hurt pout to his lips. Why was that enough to make you feel bad? “I don't mean you any harm at all, but you still haven't answered my question..."

He pressed even closer, his fingers suddenly trailing down your neck as his stubbly cheek grazed yours.

“Were you not scared?”

"I...didn't think I needed to be scared," You mumbled quietly, taking in a slow breath and feeling like your skin was prickling with nerves each time he pressed close to you.

"Why's that, hmm...don't you think it's dangerous to be alone at night?"

His staring eyes met yours, spanning up and down your face, like he was trying to take in every detail of you, each freckle, wrinkle and pore, before…

"Don't you think it's dangerous...to be alone...with...me..."

"NGH!" 

You let out a shrill grunt as he quickly pressed his body entirely against yours, climbing over the console of the truck and pinning you down to the seat. You attempted to quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and reach for the car door on the passenger side, gripping fingers scrambling for the handle as you heaved with his added weight on top of you.

"Oh no no no…” He chided lightly, sitting back as he straddled your hips and reached down in his jacket pocket. "Don't think you're getting away from me now, fraulein, not when I’ve just gotten you where I want you."

Your eyes widened when you saw him pull out a long bowie knife, hidden in plain sight, all this time. It wasn't even in a sheath to protect it.

"Please," You pleaded quietly, as he slid the knife up your front and severed the seat belt like hot metal through butter. "Please, Strade, please, let me go. I-I have friends, I'm going somewhere, you know that, they'll know I'm gone, they’ll know." You babbled erratically, every part of you trembling.

Strade just laughed, using the cut seatbelt as a makeshift rope to tie your trembling wrists to the car seat headrest above you (you had sunk down enough in the seat to get away from him that it was high up now).

You didn’t even try to fight him off that hard.

"Aww...you're still so hopeful, aren't you?"

His grin broadened, laced with malice as he watched the terror build in your eyes indulgently, like your fear was enough to sustain him.

"Do you actually think someone's going to come and save you...little college girl on her spring break, hm?” He asked, shaking his head further with a condescending little chuckle, before leaning in, his breathing heavy and ragged and excited. “No, I don’t think I’m going to let you go, fraulein…not when I have you right where I want you.”

"Please," You whimpered, your lip trembling as the first sting of tears began to bead in your eyes. "Don't kill me, please..."

"Oh, I'm not going to kill you. Don't worry."

You took in a shaky gasp as he raised the knife to your throat, immediately stilling when you felt the sharp edge of polished metal dig into your skin.

"I'm just going to have a bit of fun with you, that's all. That’s why you let me pick you up, isn’t it?" He pressed the knife down a little harder against your throat, leaning in even closer, thee bridge of his nose nestling against your jaw as you felt the sting of the blade. "You wanted someone to have fun with you, just like this..."

"Please don't hurt me...I-I'll do whatever you want," You murmured, tears spilling down your cheeks, trying not to move or struggle or shake too much and…encourage the knife to slip. “Please, please, please…”

"Aw, are you begging?" Strade’s grin widened even more, as he laughed at you, cruelly, meanly. “You really just get cuter and cuter the more you speak. I almost can’t stand it.”

You whimpered again as he raised his head to look at you, his face close enough to yours that he could have kissed you (if he wanted to), his tongue slipping out and licking his lips, and his breath heavy on your neck as his laugh trailed off into a low chuckle.

"Maybe I want to keep pretty things like you around...take my time with you, perhaps?” He mused softly, dragging the knife to a point and pressing it to the bottom of your chin. “Or maybe…I just want to do something with that pretty mouth of yours, hm?"

You gulped and squeezed your eyes shut, revolted by what you were about to say.

"Yes," You whispered, trembling a little more and pulling at the seatbelt that was binding you. "Do…a-anything you want to me. Just...please, please don't hurt me..."

He pulled back from you for a moment, raising his dark brows in a questioning look…like he was wondering if you were being truthful with him.

"Hmph. I know your type, you know. You'd say anything right now."

His expression shifted to one of mocking disappointment as he sighed, the knife moving slightly downwards and pressing into the hollow of your bobbing throat, as he studied your face.

"Do you really mean that? Or are you just trying to survive, eh?"

"I-I mean it," You stammered, pulling at the seatbelt again and swallowing hard, trying to sit up straight. "Anything. I'll...I'll even like it, too. I won't fight or scream or..." You sniffled, trying to shed the last of your tears. "Or cry."

"Really?” He gave you a doubtful smirk as he slid the knife downwards, easily cutting through the buttoned collar of your shirt. “You don't even know me, and you'd let me do whatever I want? With that pretty…” He enunciated each word by cutting away the buttons of your shirt, exposing more of your chest, your sternum, and your stomach. “Little,” Another button gone. “Mouth." Another.

“Yes. Anything.”

Once your shirt was completely open (showing your ratty sports bra), he lightly pressed the point of the knife against your breast, like it was about to be punctured. 

"And you'll like it?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Yes," You sniffled again. "Just...don't hurt me."

"You promise~?” 

He lilted airily in your ear as the knife trailed over to the band between your bra cups, severing it without a modicum of effort and revealing even more of your chest as he peeled away each flap of fabric with the point of his knife.

You bit your lip when he let out an appreciative whistle at the sight of your bare chest, the buds of your nipples erect and perky in the cool air of the night, the silver piercings glinting in the dark.

"Nice tits," He commented with a snicker. "I'm surprised someone else didn't pick you up first with a rack like that." His lecherous dirty talk was enough to make you blush and look away. "Maybe you should have been a little more...open with them, hm?" "Strade-"

“Mm, no apprehension, please.” He chided, poking one of the piercings with the point of the knife and bringing his face close to yours. “We’re going to have fun, and you’re going to smile and say ‘thank you’ the entire time...no looking away or playing shy, now.” He pressed the point of the knife to the bud of your nipple then, his golden eyes locked on yours as it dug deeper and deeper. “Understood?”

You took in an unsteady gasp as a delicate bead of blood spilled down your breast, and looked up at him quickly.

He wasn't fucking around with you.

“U-Understand!" You said quickly, a rictus grin of pleasure coming to your face, the air cool on your tear-streaked face. Thank you~”

“Good girl ♡”

[forwhump]

a/n; IM SORRYYYYYY I feel like I haven’t posted anything in forever here’s something horrible to make up for it <3 (wren’s tortured again in this one)(but outside pov this time ! fun fun 🤩)(not actually fun tho v upsetting) (basically point murders a family but uses them to fuck w wren a little bit first)

word count: 4.5k

tw/cw: gun violence, sexual violence, rape/noncon, mass murder, misgendering (constant but unintentional)(also intentional), transphobia, psychological torture, imprisonment, implied sexual slavery

creepy whumper, outside pov

Running so hard he doesn’t have time to stop himself, Jonny collides with his mother’s kitchen door with enough force that his teeth rattle in his jaw. Benny, running behind him, collides with his back, and the added weight of him forces open the old door and they go sprawling across the kitchen floor together.

For a second, everything is almost normal. Mama’s standing over her cutting board. Billie’s burning something at the stove. Jenny’s sitting at the kitchen table, pretending to get work done but really playing solitaire on her laptop. They’d all moved home again to help Mama out with the farm and the house after their dad had died randomly and unexpectedly. It was nice, for a time, having them all together again. Jonny isn’t usually a sap, but it was nice. Until this.

Until the weirdo moved into Meadow. Meadow’s a farm, so to speak, and it’s on farmland, but it’s fenced off from the rest of the world with rows of tall trees. The place had been empty for a long time; it was weird anybody had moved in at all. It was weirder that the guy kept so much to himself. It made the choice of farm make sense, but it made him stick out like a sore thumb. People just aren’t like that in this corner of the world. With farms miles wide, neighbours aren’t close, so efforts have to be made to get to know them. You visit. You greet. You help out when you can. Town socials. It’s just what everybody does — except this guy.

Makes more sense now, though. The privacy. The secrecy.

“Slow down,” Mama chastises, as the both of them scramble up from the floor. “You’re too old now to be playing like that.”

Jenny scoffs. “Dorks.”

“Call the police,” Benny wheezes.

Mama looks up again. “What?”

“Call the police,” Jonny pants, and as soon as he’s on his feet, he slams the kitchen door shut, bolting it as quickly as he can with shaking hands.

“Jesus,” Billie says.

“What?” Mama repeats, putting her knife down to brush off her hands.

“You pick that thing up again right now,” Jonny commands. “Keep that in your hand. Call the police with the other. Jenny,” he orders. “You’re already on your phone. Call them, too. Get everybody out here.”

“Why?” Mama asks, but she does grab the knife. “What did you do?”

Benny shakes his head quickly. He’d managed to pull himself into a chair at the table, still catching his breath. Bit of a stoner these days, Benny. Better hope they don’t need to do a lot more running. Better hope the police get here before that guy does.

“Call, Mama!” Jonny snaps.

“What’s going on?” Billie asks. She’s a stoner, too. Useless lot of them. Not that running or sharp reflexes is gonna do a lot of good against that much military grade ammunition.

“Did you call, Jenny?” Jonny snaps.

“You know we have no service out here,” Jenny says with a snort, not looking up from the screen, too calm. “Mama has to call.”

“Are you calling?”

Mama isn’t. She’s hesitating. “I won’t if it’ll get you boys in a lot of trouble.”

“Oh my God,” Benny finally roars, “he’s got a girl, Mama!”

All three of the girls look up at the same time. Not appropriately shocked, but they’re getting there.

“What?” Jenny says.

“And so many guns,” Jonny says.

“And weird shit,” Benny adds. “Weird weapons. Weird torture shit.”

“And a girl,” Jonny repeats. “We thought she was dead, Mama, that’s why we went in —”

“You went in?” Billie asks, horrified.

At the same time, light explodes through the big window above the sink. Obnoxious headlights are swung towards their kitchen, the way they had run.

“He’s here,” Benny says.

“I’ll call!” Jonny shouts, and launches himself at the phone.

It’s dead. Almost comically, the phone is dead.

“Okay,” he says, and slams it back on the receiver. “Which one of you useless fucks was supposed to make sure the phone bill was paid?”

“Phone was Billie,” Jenny says.

“No, it wasn’t,” Billie says. “It was you, Jonny.”

Something slams against the kitchen door with a force that splinters the wood towards the centre.

Jenny screams.

Jonny says, “fuck!”

The door is kicked in. Jonny hadn’t actually seen their neighbour, not himself, not yet, just a fraction of the inside of his house and the bleeding, naked corpse he was keeping chained up inside. He sees him now as he fills the kitchen doorway. He’s a big fucking guy.

Fuck.

He’s got a big fucking gun in one hand. He’s keeping the girl slung over his shoulder with the other. Her hair is really long, and it’s kind of pink. Probably with blood, Jonny realizes, and it makes it hard to look at her.

Their neighbour looks at each of them, and there’s something not right in his eyes — he doesn’t have human eyes. He has the eyes of an animal.

Jonny doesn’t mean to, but he takes a step back.

He smirks, and Jonny almost takes another one. “What’s wrong?” He asks. His accent is deep, slow and Texan. It sounds fake. “Y’all were just so keen to meet me. And here,” he says, and lifts the girl off his shoulder to drop her, limp, onto the linoleum. He’d clothed her, but he’d dressed her in some stupid little doll dress. She’s so thin, in fact, her skin, where it isn’t bruised, so waxy, she almost looks like she could be a doll. Emaciated, probably, is the word for it. She’s probably dying, actually, and if she’s not, she’s probably getting there; she looks a lot like the way dying people are supposed to look. “Since you were so keen to get a good look at my wife.”

“Your wife?” Billie repeats.

Not a lot of her skin is waxy, in fact, because most of her is mottled in bruises or pink, shiny burns. Her hair is pink with bleeding. Her head moves a little, but she’s still face down, and she doesn’t move at all after that. For the second time that night, Jonny’s certain he’s looking at a corpse.

“Purty,” he says. “Ain’t she?”

“Oh my God,” Mama breathes.

“Oh my God,” he mocks, “how rude of me. I haven’t met you yet,” he says, and points, with his gun, at Mama. “I’m Darren. I’m your neighbour on Meadow. In the house your boys broke into.”

He keeps pointing it at her. She’s still holding a knife, but it’s a big fucking gun. Who brings a knife to a gunfight? What are they supposed to do? “I’m sorry,” Mama says.

“You will be,” Darren answers.

Without warning and with a speed Jonny would swear was unnatural, he turns the gun on Jenny. He pulls the trigger, and the gun sprays ammunition. He blows a good chunk out of her face.

For a second, after the skin of her cheek and the grey of her brain have sprayed the wall behind her, her body stays upright. Then it slumps forward onto the table with a horribly wet sound and Benny just manages to push back from it before he leans over and throws up, splattered with blood and chunks of teeth. Jonny can’t tell his shouting from Mama’s, from Billie’s, from Benny’s once he starts.

“You should’ve stayed away from my house,” Darren says, and his voice isn’t Texan at all.

“I’m sorry,” Benny breathes.

Mama’s wailing, unintelligible, and Billie slides an arm around her.

Jonny doesn’t mean to but his legs give out and he sinks to his knees. His ears are ringing. He doesn’t want to look at Jenny, what’s left of her, but this close to the ground puts him too close to the neighbour’s wife and Jonny doesn’t want to look at her, either. He can’t help it.

“Not yet,” Darren says. He pulls the trigger again, blows Mama’s kneecap right out of her leg and she goes sprawling across the kitchen floor with a scream. The barrel is still hot, sizzling against Jonny’s skin as Darren uses it to tilt his face upwards by the chin. “You,” he says. “You’re looking awfully hard at my wife,” he says, and his fake accent is back. It’s hard to tell if he keeps forgetting to put it on or if it’s just a layer to fucking with them. Something psychological.

He looks too close at Jonny with those fucked up eyes and Jonny can’t say anything.

“You like what you see?” He asks, and he asks like there’s a right answer. Jonny has no idea what the right answer could be.

“Is she still alive?” Is what comes out, and it’s not the right answer.

He frowns. “Of course she’s still alive,” and kicks her hard in the side. She makes a soft sound, and it makes the hair on the back of Jonny’s neck stand up, but she makes a sound. She isn’t dead. Darren clicks his tongue. “C’mon, cowgirl. Rise and shine, now.” With his boot, he pushes her onto her back.

She makes another soft, horrible sound. Jonny inhales sharply. Slowly, she blinks up at the ceiling, wide eyed and probably dazed. She has startlingly dark eyes, and her left eyes, where it’s supposed to be white, is a dark, bleeding red.

Darren smiles with all his teeth and it’s unnatural the way it stretches across his face, like he’s wearing a mask that doesn’t quite fit. It doesn’t reach his eyes even a little bit. “There she is.”

“What?” The girl says, definitely dazed. Her voice is rougher than it looks like it would be. She sounds like she’s from Texas, too, but she sounds like her accent might be real. She blinks at the ceiling, vacant.

“It’s time to meet our neighbours, baby,” Darren says. “And you’re being awfully rude, sleeping through it.”

Her hands are tied tightly in front of her. Slowly, her head turns against the linoleum, just far enough that she looks, for the first time, at Jonny. For a long few moments, she looks right through him. Then she sees him, and something horrible dawns on her face. She looks quickly up at Darren, who grins again, grotesque. “What are you doing?” She breathes.

“They wanted to meet you,” he says. “And I know you’ve been getting lonely in that big ol’ house, only me around to keep you company.” He smirks as he looks up, and it’s still unnatural, but it reaches his eyes. He’s mean. “Used to have a lot of gentlemen callers, my girl. Didn’t you, baby? Wasn’t anything I could do to get her to keep her legs closed.”

She starts to sit up but Darren plants his boot hard in the centre of her chest, hard enough it knocks the wind out of her. She gasps.

Benny sniffles and says, “listen, man —“

“Listen, man,” Darren mocks. “I have been trying to mind my own business. We have been trying to keep to ourselves. You broke into my home. You put your hands on my wife.”

“Oh my God,” she says, still winded, but her words fold in disgust, “I’m not —“

He points the gun down into her face and says, “stop talking.” She does.

It had been pretty obvious something really fucked up was going on over on Meadow. It was weird anybody had moved in because it had been vacant for so long, and it had been vacant for so long because it just had such bad vibes. Anybody that came to look at it left and didn’t come back for it. It was too isolated. Creepy. Anybody that moved into that place had to be up to something. Jonny and Benny had been curious, that was all. Jonny had figured it was some weird, creep old man with a taxidermy hobby, that he’d borrow one of their horses sometime to fuel it. Benny had said doomsday prepper; Benny was closer, in the end. When the first thing they had seen were all the military weapons, they thought he was right, actually. The bound, naked girl that was obviously not his wife had thrown them off course a little.

And still, Jonny couldn’t have anticipated he’d be the kind of man to then show up in their kitchen to shoot his sister in the face. They’re all gonna die, right? That has to be how this ends. How else are they gonna get out of this? What the fuck is wrong with this guy?

Across the kitchen, crouched protectively next to Mama, Billie sniffles. “Jenny didn’t do anything. Jenny didn’t break into your house.”

“She knew too much,” Darren answers, lifting his head too quickly, jerky. “You all know too much now, matter of fact. Figured your boys wouldn’t do a good job of keeping their mouths shut.”

“Then what are you doing?” Billie asks. When did she get so brave? Jonny must’ve missed it while he was cowering. “Get it over with.”

“Nah,” he says, and grins again, most grotesque this time. It reaches too much of his weird eyes. “I wanted to play with y’all a little. And you,” he turns the gun suddenly on Jonny, “are still looking awfully hard at my wife.”

He’d been trying really hard not to look at her, in fact. He swallows, and it kind of hurts.

“C’mere,” Darren says.

It goes in one ear and leaves out the other. Jonny only looks at him. Swallows again.

“Now,” he orders, and the irritation that leaks into his voice clears it of the fake accent.

“What?” Jonny says.

Darren sucks his teeth and says, “come here, boy. If I have to repeat myself again I’ll put down your other sister.”

Billie inhales sharply.

Dazed, Jonny heaves himself to his feet. He staggers closer, closer to Darren, to the barrel of that fucking gun.

Darren lifts it and says, “go on, now. Since you’ve been so fuckin’ curious. Get a good look at her. Go on.”

With shaking legs, Jonny kneels again, somewhere close by her thigh. He tries not to touch her. It’s hard to look. She probably was very beautiful once; she looks really sick now.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

Darren points the gun at her again. “Stop. Talking.” She does, and he turns it back on Jonny. “Well? What do you think? Looker, isn’t she?”

Jonny doesn’t say anything. Swallows again.

The gun clicks. “Isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Jonny says.

“I know,” he agrees. He’s forgetting the accent. It’s starting to slip, replaced with something Northern, something more carefully militant. “You like what you see?”

“Yes,” he repeats.

“Go on, then,” Darren says, Texan. “Fuck my wife.”

Her knees close in time with Jonny’s leaning away. “What?” He says. Mama sobs, and Jonny hears it clearer than anything.

“Oh my God,” the girl says, and she sobs, too. “Point —“

He aims the gun at her. His face is completely blank. He’s probably old — he’s twenty years older than her, at least — his hair is starting to grey by the temples, but he has skin kinda like a doll. Jonny doesn’t think there’s anything artificial about it — he wonders if any sort of expression just doesn’t come naturally to this guy. “Don’t call me that,” he says, flat. Northern. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop talking?”

Jonny wonders if he’d really kill her. It doesn’t seem like she’d be so lucky; he’d probably just make it hurt.

She sobs again. Jonny wonders how long she’s been with Darren, and for how much of that time she’s been sick. He wonders how old she is. He wonders if he wants to know.

“Relax,” Darren says to her, dismissive and cruel. “You used to fuck dogs. You can take this.”

Her chest heaves with crying but there aren’t any tears. Jonny wonders if she just doesn’t have any left. “Shoot me,” she says, thick.

He does. He points the gun down and shoots her in the foot. Jonny scrambles away. The gunshot is loud, explosive; the sound she makes is soft. Wet. Her head lolls to one side.

Darren steps down hard on her foot and she barrels back into consciousness with a cry, something ear piercing. “Be a good girl,” he says, “and keep your eyes open. You,” he says, and points the gun at Jonny again. “Get back over here and fuck my wife.”

Jonny swallows audibly. What is he supposed to do? He’s gonna die anyway. But how much does he want it to hurt?

Maybe it doesn’t have to hurt. Maybe he won’t kill them. Maybe, if they just play along —

“Darren,” she’s sobbing. “Darren, I’m sorry, please —“

Darren’s mocking the way that she cries, a hitching sort of rasp of a sound. “Be a good girl, now,” he says, and he lays the accent on thick. “Hitch up your skirt, cowgirl.”

She covers her face with bound, trembling hands. Sobs something that sounds like, “I’m so tired.”

“You can lay right there, sugar,” Darren says. “You know you do your best work on your back.” She sobs, and he says, “lie back and think of Texas.”

She lowers her hands. She’s getting really pale. “I think about Silas,” is what she says.

Darren’s face falls, right back into something flat and doll like. He points the gun down, shoots her in the same foot. She screams at a pitch that makes Jonny flinch. Darren spits in her face. “How many times do I have to tell you,” he seethes, lethal and Northern, “not to think about that fuckin’ thing? Get over here,” he snaps, and he’s speaking to Jonny this time. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

Jonny swallows bile.

Darren says, “you know what? What the hell,” and points the gun at Benny. “You, too. You’re watching awfully close. Get over here.”

Benny doesn’t look up from the girl, but he shakes his head.

Darren turns the gun. Aims it into the kitchen. “You boys get over here,” he says, “or I’m gonna shoot your mother in the fuckin’ face.”

Mama screams. Billie sobs as she hugs her tighter.

Jonny’s ears rings with the sound of them as he looks at Benny. Benny looks back, and he looks at him blankly before he looks away. Slowly, he heaves himself from his chair. Staggers to Darren and the girl like he’s possessed.

Darren smirks, angling his head towards Jonny. “Your turn, now.”

Jonny doesn’t remember moving but he finds himself swaying on his feet.

To Benny, he says, “kneel by her head.” To the girl, he says, “be good. Spread your legs.” She doesn’t, but she’s sick and she’s skinny and he kicks them apart, anyway, easy, steps down again with all his weight on her broken foot to keep her still. She cries out so hard her back arches off the floor and Jonny takes an instinctive step back. Just as quickly, he’s looking down the barrel of the biggest fuckin’ gun he’s ever seen. “Kneel,” Darren says.

Jonny does. He wishes he didn’t, but he does, sinking to his knees between the spread of her thighs. Her tied hands are shaking. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Don’t,” she begs softly. “Please.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and she sobs.

“No —“

“Tip your head back, cowgirl,” Darren says. “Open wide.”

“No,” she says, and her breath hitches.

Benny doesn’t say anything but he slowly slides his fingers into her bloody hair, turning her head gently.

“No,” she pleads, trying to reach out with tied hands and it makes Jonny’s skin crawl. “Don’t,” she begs, and Jonny retches.

The barrel of the gun is pressed to the base of his skull and the size of it could probably blow his head clean off his shoulders. “Go on, now,” Darren says.

“Please,” she sobs, and she’s looking up at Benny as Benny tips her head back.

Jonny’s hands are shaking so hard he struggles with the button on his jeans. The ruffles of her dress are already soaked with blood and he retches again. She’d been bleeding when they found her in the house, but not this much. What did he do to her before he brought her to them? What’s wrong with this guy?

There’s something still so surreal about it, even with Jenny’s brain staining the wallpaper, even with the barrel hot against his scalp through his hair. This kind of shit doesn’t happen in real life, especially not to people like them, like Mama, unassuming farmers. Maybe a little nosey, but they’re only bored. Harmless. This is the kind of shit that happens in horror movies that aren’t even all that scary, they’re so unrealistic. How can this be happening to them?

He leans into her and her whole body trembles as she cries, as she pleads. Jonny tries his best to leave his body, to go somewhere else, but there’s too much and it keeps pulling him back to himself, to this place, to the floor of his mother’s kitchen. There’s the girl, the rough, panicked hitching of her crying, how desperately she begs him to stop, how hard she trembles. She presses her knee into him, tries to push him away, and Jonny can feel too much of the bones in her leg.

And then she isn’t crying, she doesn’t beg, because Benny is holding her head still as he eases himself into her mouth and Jonny doesn’t mean to, but he sobs, something hoarse.

Still, she struggles, but her hands are braced against Benny as she tries to push him away and it isn’t much of a fight as Jonny pushes up her skirts. As Jonny pushes himself inside her.

He tries to go somewhere else again, somewhere far outside himself, to someplace he isn’t fucking a crying girl in his mother’s kitchen on the floor in front of her at gunpoint. It’s hard to escape. He screws his eyes shut, tries to think about anything else, but she’s so wet and she’s so warm she’s almost too warm and Jonny knows it’s with bleeding, he can’t think about anything else, accidentally pushes into her harder than he meant to and her bleeding body makes a wet sound that makes him gag.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs.

Benny doesn’t say anything. Benny doesn’t say anything until he grunts. Shudders. Scrambles away from her suddenly and unsteadily.

She has just enough time to turn her head before she vomits across the linoleum.

Jonny bows his head as he sobs again.

Darren says, “enough.”

Jonny jerks away from her too quickly and her body makes another horribly wet sound. The sound she makes in return is too soft, kind of broken. “I’m sorry,” Jonny says.

“I’ve been telling you,” Darren says with a smile, “you will be.” There’s nothing natural in his smile. There’s nothing human in his eyes. “Get up,” he tells them, and steps over the girl, crossing the kitchen with slow strides. He stops, standing across from Mama. “And come here.”

Slowly, they do. They stand, fix their pants, stagger across the kitchen. It’s hard to explain, but Jonny feels kind of out of it, like he’d been hit really hard in the head. Everything’s gotten kinda fuzzy around the edges.

Darren smiles again. “Face your mother.”

Slowly, they do.

“On your knees,” Darren says.

Jonny doesn’t sob again but the tears don’t stop.

“I’m sorry,” Benny’s stuck. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Darren exhales a sound that might be a laugh, if he were human. “Choice last words,” he says. The barrel of the gun finds the back of Jonny’s head.

“Please,” Mama says, and he hears her louder than anything. “Don’t hurt my boys.”

“What would you propose I do?” Darren asks. The barrel is so hot through his hair Jonny’s sure his scalp is burning. “Your boys just raped my wife.”

“I’m sorry,” Benny’s chanting, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He’s always been a big guy, now a farmer — he’s never seemed so small before.

“I’d hope so,” Darren says, and he says it with a flat, Northern accent, nothing Texan about it at all.

“Darren,” the girl says, and Jonny feels a bit sick, he still doesn’t know her name and he probably won’t ever find out, “don’t do this.” She sounds like she’s from Texas for real, and it’s not the first time Jonny’s noticed but it’s the first time it occurs to him that maybe Darren’s accent isn’t psychological warfare at all, maybe he’s making fun of his wife.

It’s obvious, suddenly, in the way he drawls, “I’m defending your honour, cowgirl.”

He’s quick. It almost seems like he’s too quick, too, to be human. The barrel is pressed to the back of Jonny’s head one second, and the next, Benny’s head bursts into plates of skull and meaty chunks of brain tissue. Blood is sprayed aagainst Jonny’s side.

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t do anything; he freezes, and he watches across the kitchen through red mist as another gunshot rings out and crouched next to Mama, a hole explodes in the centre of Billie’s chest. She makes a wheezing, gasping soft of sound. Her throat bursts open with the next gunshot, and she never makes a sound again.

“Why are you doing this to us?” Mama breathes. She’s been painted red with Billie.

“This is what happens to nosey families who don’t mind their fuckin’ business,” he answers. And he shoots Jonny’s mother in the face.

Finally, he turns the gun on Jonny. “Any last words?”

“I don’t know,” Jonny says.

He doesn’t hear the gunshot, there isn’t time, but he can feel the heat building against the side of his face.

Then, finally, it’s over.

For a long time, Wren stares up at the ceiling, at the blood splattered across the beams.

It was their kitchen. Point had slaughtered these people in their kitchen.

Wren doesn’t know why the cruelty surprises him, but it does. He didn’t think he had it left in him to be scared anymore but he’s that, too.

Point’s face comes into view above him. “This is what happens to people that try and help you,” he says. “I want you to remember that.”

He doesn’t look disturbed that he just massacred a family in the heart of their home, but he doesn’t look pleased, either. He doesn’t look anything. Somehow it’s worse. “What are you gonna do with me when I die?” He asks.

It makes Point smile. “You know I won’t let that happen,” he says. “We’re having too much fun, cowgirl.”

[the-cobalt-coast]

I hope you don’t mind if I ask a bunch!

9, 41, 42, 56, 58, 63, 65, 70

9.describe your prefect mate.

Hmm idk it would definitely be more on the personality side than anything physical. Anyone who helps me be my best self and work through and patterns or habits that aren’t serving me any more in a gentle way.

41. have you had sex so far this year?

Yes I definitely have. It’s April lol.

42. How long can you kiss before your hands start to wander?

Honestly not long at all 💀 a few minutes max.

56 and 58 sounds like a lot to do so I’ll pass lol sorryyyyyy

63. What’s your definition of having sex?

It used to be penetrative but now it’s anything sexual like hand stuff or oral or all that lol

65. What’s your favorite foreplay routine?

Idk lol but a nice long kiss in our underwear is fun

70. what turns you on?

I absolutely love verbal guys, nipple play, and being bitten 😈

[artycreaty]

A Gentle Touch

Hello, @faru-itsok​! I am your @dcmksecretsanta ​for this year! 🎅🏻 🎁 (or rather, last year because it’s already 2023 aaaaaaa I’m very very sorryyyyyy!🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️)

Here it is, your gift! I had to cut it in half because I didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer!

Wishing you a very Merry belated Christmas/Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year 2023! May 2023 bring you hope, creativity and health! 🎆 📣 ✨

Special thanks to Raka ( @rakashith ) for your thoughts and advices, and @blenderfullasarcasm for beta-ing this fic, and also thanks to @mirrorfalls for giving me the idea to start writing this work! Thank you all, you’ve helped me a BUNCH!

And also Special Thanks to the host Sabrina for being patient with me and also for being very understanding! Thank you for hosting this event, I’ve enjoyed every gifts everyone shared! 💜Now then, please enjoy the first part! I’m currently in process of writing the second part! 💜 ✨

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapters: 1/2

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 3.9k

Characters: Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Nakamori Aoko

Additional Tags: DCMK Secret Santa, Secret Santa, Gift Fic, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, i guess?, Dessert & Sweets, Touch-Starved, Forehead Touching, Swearing, a bit - Freeform

Summary:

Humans bond through physical touch. Hugging and other forms of nonsexual touching causes your brain to release oxytocin, known as the ‘bonding hormone’. From the day we are born till the day we die, our need for physical contact remains. Giving and receiving physical touch has the power to heal more than a broken heart.

Aoko doesn’t understand why Kaito is avoiding her, and she resolves to do something about it.

.

.

.

Kaito has been avoiding Aoko lately.

Well, not quite like that - they see each other everyday. Aoko will whack him with her mop if Kaito even so much as tries to avoid Aoko’s presence. No, it’s not that.

Kaito has been avoiding skin-to-skin contact with Aoko. No, not like that, either, would you get your damn minds out of the gutter, please!

It’s just…

Aoko and Kaito have been best friends for as long as she can remember, from the moment Kaito gave her that beautiful blue rose under that clocktower. Since then, they’ve gone through everything together, holding hands most of the time. They’ve always had skin-to-skin contact, whether it be hand holding or hugging or teasing touches. They’re also used to touching the other’s forehead with their own for reassurances when they’re down sometimes.

For example, if Kaito ever sees someone performing street magic, his mind turns to his father, and his eyes lose their light a little. Aoko always notices, and she'll poke his cheek in a teasing but grounding way or hold his hand to bring Kaito out of his slump before it goes any deeper. Kaito, in turn, gives Aoko pats on the head and thus teasingly messes up her hair, which will bring Aoko’s head back to the present. He also holds Aoko’s hand whenever they both feel like it.

She doesn’t mind it. And she knows Kaito feels the same.

However, since starting high school, their skin-to-skin touches have lessened slightly. Aoko hadn’t thought of it much, because they were both so busy with school and after school clubs that they hadn’t had time to catch up with each other as often as they’d liked.

Even still, they’d touched each other whenever they had the chance to. Aoko likes having skin-to-skin contact with her best friend.

Please read the rest on the link (AO3)!

[venusacrossthestars]

rollercoaster rookie

Pairing- Logan Sargeant x fem!reader

WC- 725

Summary- who would've thought that logan hated rollercoasters, definitely not you.

f1 masterlist

You would think that your boyfriend who drove cars that went 150+ mph wouldn’t be scared of many things, but as the two of you stand in line for a roller coaster at a theme park you learn that you are quickly mistaken. 

The American driver was currently on summer break and you, being the genius that you were, had the bright idea to bring your boyfriend to an amusement park. You have always loved roller coasters, there was something almost freeing about the twists and turns, the wind against your skin, the falling feeling in your stomach. Logan understood the feeling all too well, so when you suggested the two of you make a date out of it he eagerly agreed with a grin. 

In the days leading up to your outing, Logan said nothing. The car ride to the amusement park, not a peep. Getting your tickets and going through security, zilch. Deciding which ride and waiting in line for it, complainless. It wasn’t until the two of you were getting strapped into your first ride of the day that he spoke up. 

“I hate rollercoaster,” he deadpanned. 

Your eyes bludge at the confession and before you could say anything the ride lurched forward. 45 seconds of loops and turns had never felt so long. You are too busy keeping your eyes on Logan, whose eyes are wired shut, to fully enjoy the ride. It is over as quickly as it had started, and the both of you are freed of your restraints. 

Logan nearly launches out of his seat to the area where your belongings are kept, you are quick on his heels. He grabs the railing and braces himself against it, taking deep breaths in and out. Trying to be a good girlfriend you rub his back in small circles, occasionally patting him when he dry heaves. You can’t help but hope that he doesn’t throw up. 

“Are you going to be okay? Do you me to get you some water?” 

“It’ll pass,” he reassures you. 

“Logan,” you begin, “why didn’t you tell me you hated rollercoasters?” 

“Because you love them?” Logan states, almost uncertain of his own answer. “I was going to say something but you were so excited when you came up with the idea. I thought I could stomach it.” 

“Obviously not. There is one thing that puzzles me.” 

“I have a feeling I know what your gonna say,” he groans.  

“I would think that being a professional driver you would be able to handle something as simple as a roller coaster.” 

Logan shoots his hands up in the air. “Cars don’t have random 100-foot, or higher, drops and we most certainly don’t go upside down three loops in a row!” 

Staring at Logan you try to keep a straight face, you really try to, but you can’t help the giggles that escape you. 

“I also happen to know all the parts in my car, and that the people who built it know what they are doing. I can’t say the same for this monstrosity,” he waves at the ride behind you. 

You roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior, “you’re such a drama queen, you know that right?” 

Logan gasps at the accusation, hands brought to his chest in mock offense, “I am sorry that I am concerned for my well-being, unlike some people.” 

“Mmmhmmm, Mr. Spin out in pre-season testing.” 

“You little minx,” Logan reaches out for you but you dodge him. “And to think I was going to suck it up and tell you we could go on more rides.” 

“I’m sorryyyyyy, please Logie-Pie,” you coo mockingly, now moving closer to him, trying to pinch his cheeks. 

“Fine, I guess I’ll spend time with my girlfriend.” 

“Keep up the attitude mister and you won’t have one,” you tease. “But if you don’t want to go on anymore rides that’s okay, I don’t want you getting sick.” 

“I’ll be okay, which one did you want to go on next?” 

You grab his hand, pulling him towards your favorite ride. “The one where it raises you and drops you unexpectedly! I love how it makes you feel like your stomach is falling out.” 

Logan can say nothing, the only look he can muster is one of horror. It was going to be a very long day.

taglist- crossed out names mean I couldn't tag you

@arieslost @naaanasworld @rebesobrino @poppyleeonline @imwaytootires @kitypawz @ineedmoremilkk @sparklehummingbird @jettlawrence @enthusiatoffandoms14 @dylan-obrienn24 @giada-chan @bre013 @nush14 @perfectsublimekid @finite-stars @k3nmakyan @what-is-happening-helpp @haasterplan @r0nnsblog @trying-to-survive-with-kpop @youcannotcancelquidditch @hollieeelol @phantom-demise @amandaesstuff @stinkyjax @myxticmoon @marekmybeloved @annemajbayla @mrosales16

[sxlver-sweet]

HEY BABE!! How are you ? Just wanted to speak cause I'm feeling ✨ romantic ✨

Imagine reader crushing on Mitsuya but being scared of confessing because the whole school crush already on him? So reader who saw that he was really close to a tall guy approach this guy ?? And like she ask "hum... You're hakkai right?" And Hakkai freeze the hell out of his life just for reader to say that she actually has a crush on Mitsuya because he's "perfect" and Hakkai beating the number one fanboy of ✨taka-chan✨ just finded his new bro ?? Because he has nobody to fanboy over mitsuya with all day and they become best friends and he tries to help reader with her crush.

But little did they know Mitsuya already crush on reader and see reader and Hakkai becoming closer and closer and he start to become jealous and like when he is with Hakkai he's like "oh that's new this when can you talk to a girl beside yuzuha?" Reader is just always with him but he doesn't know and it's starting to pissed him off 😩 but she's just talking about him with his best friend. And one day reader is with Hakkai on top of the rooftop during lunch talking about him and reader slips and Hakkai catch her but mitsuya only see them like hugging and that's when he has enough so he come and takes reader's wrist and drag her to reveal his feeling.

and Hakkai being the clueless clumsy person he is just "huh?"

I'm sorryyyyyy babe it's too long I just wanted to have your thoughts but I got excited😩😩

I'M SO LATE I'M SO SORRY FDSKLFSND THIS GOT LOST IN MY INBOX i hope you still want to talk 👉🏽👈🏽

but kdflskmdfl that's such a cute idea wait—

i can absolutely see hakkai finding it easier to bond with another girl over a common interest that they both feel so strongly about. it would still take him some time to get used to interacting with another girl, but i feel that more progress would be made faster. when you shyly admit to him that you actually have a crush on mitsuya and aren't just admiring him as a person like he is, i feel like hakkai would gape at you, eyes wide with shock and lips parted in a shouted, "seriously?" you latch onto his wrist, shaking his arm desperately and hissing at him to quit being so loud about it. i can imagine this being the point where mitsuya notices your close bond with hakkai, courtesy of hakkai's tall ass having summoned the attention of everyone in a two-mile radius with his screech.

at that point, all mitsuya sees is you clinging to hakkai's arm and feverishly whispering something to him, clearly flustered by his outburst. he examines the pout gracing your glossed lips as you stand there, all cute and sugar-sweet with your short uniform skirt swirling around your thighs and eyes vibrant with a sense of excitement that he can't quite decipher the source of—or, maybe, he just doesn't want to admit that the sight of you hovering around hakkai causes a flicker of irritation to stir in the pit of his stomach. maybe, he doesn't want to entertain the possibility of hakkai—who, before now, has never been able to so much as greet another girl—sharing a romantic interest in you. he'll proceed to examine you from afar, the tick in his jaw and white-knuckled fingers digging into his knees betraying the faux-unbothered expression adorning his face as a member from the sewing club grills him about fixing a button on their uniform. truth be told, he hasn't heard a word they've said.

he likely won't go out of his way to disrupt the bond he thinks you and hakkai have. he'll immerse himself in his other responsibilities as a method of distracting himself, and you'll probably end up seeing less of him. he really doesn't want to distance himself from you, but, seeing as how hakkai appears to have finally found himself a suitable partner, he deems it the only solution to handling the crush he developed on you somewhere along the way. when hakkai visits the sewing club after school, mitsuya will likely thread his burning inquiry into casual conversation so that he won’t run the risk of deterring hakkai from pursuing you. he chuckles, "ah, yeah, i've seen you around with (name). i didn't know there was a girl here you actually felt comfortable talking to."

then, when hakkai answers, "oh, yeah... she's nice," mitsuya's deft fingers twitch involuntarily and he promptly stabs his finger with a sewing needle.

the cycle of mitsuya running himself ragged trying to forget his feelings for you won't be broken until he spots you and hakkai embracing on the rooftop from the sliver of space between the ajar doors. he doesn’t even register how awkward you two looked, you clutching onto the railing for dear life and hakkai stooped over you with one arm tightened around your waist. all he noticed was that you two were close enough for this moment of be classified as intimate, and neither of you seemed uncomfortable. actually, knowing his dumbass, mitsuya will most likely just accept this as his new reality and decide to resign himself to merely watching from the sidelines—watching as fate intertwines his and hakkai's fates together in the most heart-wrenching way possible. he doesn’t want to stir up any kind of conflict, especially when he’s positive that his feelings for you would be unrequited, anyway. he would be prepared to turn his back and walk away, only to pause when he hears your voice ring out.

"thanks for catching me!" you chirp to hakkai, who immediately releases you and steps away, "that fall would've been pretty bad. anyway, about mitsuya... i was thinking of inviting him on like... a study date. is that weird?" when hakkai simply answers with a thoughtful hum, you scramble to explain yourself, "look, i just want to go on a date with him! and, i thought this would be the least awkward way to do it—whatever. the point is, i need your help with this. i'm planning on asking him after lunch tomorrow, but i was hoping that you would... kind of... ask him for me."

pls, the way your heart sinks when the rooftop doors creak open and mitsuya strolls through with a small smile curving his lips.

"why not just ask me yourself right now?"

[sylvie-writes]

okay i had to come again cause you gave me 3 so i thought i’d give you one more 😂

could i get a 💐 for steve just anything cute and fluffy :)

Florence

pairing: steve rogers x reader

a/n: hehe i hope this is fluffy enough 😌 not proofread sorryyyyyy

it had been a couple of months since you’d been on a mission with just steve.

the two of you always worried over the other so maybe it was better when you worked together.

for a whole month, you and steve had to hide out in florence, italy, waiting for a man named aleksandr and his accomplices to show their faces.

aleksandr was well known for smuggling important documents so needless to say, waiting for him to make his next move would be time-consuming.

oftentimes, the radios were silent and there was barely any new intel on the man so you and steve would just sit in the hotel room, order room service, and watch random movies from the bed.

except for today! steve finally had something big planned for you, once natasha gave him the okay to be offline for the day.

you woke up same time as usual, sun from the balcony shining in, but this time a steaming cup of coffee sat on the nightstand with a note attached to the mug.

went downstairs to arrange transportation. made your coffee the way you like it ;) take your time getting ready, i’ll be in the lobby when you’re done. love, steve.

taking gracious sips of the coffee, you reread steve’s note at least a thousand times more because it just made your heart bubble with excitement.

not too long after, the elevator doors in the lobby opened for the umpteenth time, but this time you appeared in steve’s line of sight.

he stood from the velvet chair, making his way across the luxury marble floor to greet you at the elevators.

with a kiss to your forehead, steve held out his arm for you.

“steven grant, where are we going? did nat okay this because with our luck, you know who will decide to put his plan into action!”

steve chuckled, “yes, i checked with mom, she said it was okay as long as i returned you home by ten.”

you looked up at the man and shook your head, wearing a silly smile of your own.

“well, where are we going then!”

steve opened the door for you to walk through.

“that you’ll have to find out for yourself, sweetheart.”

the two of you got in a cab where a friendly older man greeted you from behind the wheel.

you heard steve tell the driver where to go in italian but you weren’t exactly keen on what he said so the location so remained a surprise.

some time later the uffizi gallery came into view and your jaw almost dropped.

actually the whole way through the entrance and security you couldn’t even believe you were standing within one of the most beautiful art museums.

finally after all the formalities, you and steve made it into the actual museum where tons of historic artwork came into sight.

you turned to steve whose arm was wrapped around your waist as he guided you around the museum floor.

you admired his facial features as he spoke about each piece of art and it’s history

it amazed you how much he knew about the different items on exhibit.

he was like your personal tour guide, the adorable art nerd that he is.

just as steve finished up speaking about the birth of venus, you couldn’t help but speak about your admiration of this whole gesture.

“steve, it’s beautiful here. i can’t believe you remembered that i wanted to visit here one day.”

pulling away from your waist and now interlocking your hands, steve just brought your hand to his lips.

“how could i forget? you told me on our first date that you always wanted to come here with someone who appreciated art as much as those who created it.”

you shied away from his stare and turned the other direction as heat took over your face.

“not to flatter myself or anything but i’d say i appreciate art, don’t you think?”

you looked back at steve who was wearing a playful smirk as he referenced to his prior little art tour.

“yes i think you do, mr. rogers. i mean you are definitely eligible for retirement. maybe you should retire and work at the museum.”

“hey! i’m not that old!”

you giggled and stood on tippy toes to kiss his cheek. “you keep telling yourself that, honey.”

[notasdriedapricots]

Bedroom for Liz, Lucas, and Gary? 👀

OH, GARY? Interesting.

Here's bedroom for Lucas!

Now, for Liz:

Bedroom:

How does this character sleep? (Position, sleeping habits, bedtime routines)

Showers and brushes her teeth right before bed; is very concious about her bedtime because as a night own she’ll end up staying up until 5 if she doesn’t). 

Always on her side, sometimes almost on her stomach, both hands under the pillow. If with someone, little spoon, using him as a pillow, or snuggled against his chest (yes, her and Lucas are perfect), and she will insist on being on the left side. She won’t oppose or get offended if the other wants to stick to their side of the bed, though.

What are their pajamas like?

Typically matching shorts and tops, in either very soft cotton or satin. In winter, long bottoms with short sleeved shirts, also matching. She has three satin robes to go around the house: black, navy blue, and deep purple.

What do they dream about usually?

Typically can’t remember her dreams. The only exception is when she’s half-awake-half-asleep and has that almost lucid dream thing, but can’t really control it, and if it goes bad she wakes up anguished.

How neat/tidy is this character?

She’s superficially tidy. Like, you’ll look around and everything will look just fine but god help you if you dare open a closet. When she’s stressed, though, her coping mecanism is to put some storage place in order to clear her head.

How affectionate is this character?

If it’s up to her, she’s very affectionate. Unless the other person moves a lot or snores or something... She will kick him.

Now, Gary (oh god, I’m terrified, Gary is my second favourite guy but I’ve never done his route so I’m missing so much info I’m sorry don’t kill me. This is why this took me so long I’m sorryyyyyy):

Bedroom:

How does this character sleep? (Position, sleeping habits, bedtime routines)

I think he gets home, has dinner, maybe cracks a beer while watching TV, showers and gets to bed. Not much of a fixed routine. I think when he goes to sleep he starts on his stomach, but he moves throuoght the night.

What are their pajamas like?

Just pajama bottoms, too. He has a couple he rotates and has had for years, but they’re still super comfy. Never wears a shirt, not even in winter; if he’s cold he just piles up more blankets.

What do they dream about usually?

I think he has average dreams. The usual “elements of the day rearranged” thing. If he has a funny one he’ll try to remember and tell it to any friends he sees that day. If he has a nightmare he’ll look around, recenter, and go back to sleep.

How neat/tidy is this character?

He’s a bit messy, but not too much. He won’t pay much attention during the week, leaving things around the place, but he’ll kinda reset everything in his apartment once a week, going around and tidying the things that were left behind.

How affectionate is this character?

He’s affectionate, but not soffocating. He likes being the big spoon, but will find it funny and endearing if she wants to be it sometimes and indulge her without a second thought. If they’re not spooning, he at least has an arm around her.

I hope these are not too bad! This was really fun, though.

Send me a character and a room and I’ll tell you my HC for them!

[barsformars]

reaction: their s/o being very shy & unusually quiet around the other members; ateez

req: hello~~ can i request ateez's reaction to their s/o being very shy and unusually quiet around the other members? thank you so much

a/n : aaa it's been awhile since someone requested a reaction so thank you!! hope you like it 💖 also i feel like this is more scenario than reaction hhhh so just take the gif as the reaction sorryyyyyy 🥺🥺

Seonghwa

when seonghwa came back from grocery shopping, you immediately jumped out of your seat and ran towards him with open arms and a bright smile, "hwahwa~~~"

"wow y/n can smile huh….." mingi said, baffled at how excited you were to see your boyfriend when you had been so timid and quiet for the past hour with them that even yunho felt at a loss because you wouldn't open up

"awwww honey, there's no need to be shy around them, you know. you're so cute" seonghwa cooed as he caressed your chin. he did want you to open up to the other members as well but he also felt special that you could only be comfortable when he was around. he likes being needed.

Hongjoong

hongjoong already knew that you were really shy around the other members and that's exactly why he had invited you to their practice room to hang out, only to excuse himself half an hour in with the excuse that he suddenly had inspiration for new songs. he wanted you to bond with his team members since if you were his lover, the nine of you would be family.

hongjoong would come out of his studio every now & then to shoot you kissy faces and smile at you like a proud mom as he witnessed you slowly warming up to the other members after a couple of hours.

Yunho

yunho was doing a vlive with mingi when you came over to their company building and you had planned to just sit somewhere and wait for him to be done but woosan had dragged you to their practice room to play with the rest of 99z because they didn't want you to be lonely.

it was so exhausting to keep up with the three of them especially since you were so self conscious and couldn't be yourself comfortably, but you tried your best anyways.

when yunho finally came to your rescue, you would pout as you hugged him before beginning to 'rant' about how tiring playing with the other boys were not long after and he would just hug you back as he listened to you blabber on and on non stop about your day. he loved hearing you talk.

"omg i can't believe the quiet y/n is more talkative than wooyoung" said yeosang

Yeosang

the nine of you were having dinner together for the first time and yeosang noticed how awfully quiet you were, your eyes only darting between him and your plate of food, never at the other members even when they spoke to you

yeosang would tease you a little in front of the other members like "oh come on, why are you acting shy?" and then proceed to expose some very mildly embarrassing stories of you so that you could relax. it didn't really bother you since those stories were ones that you could laugh about and with his help, you started to feel less awkward and could joke around with the others since they already heard about your embarrassing stories.

San

you were also very shy around san initially so he already expected it when you told him you were going to their mv filming site to support him. and he was right, because you were just sitting alone scrolling through Instagram mindlessly as he filmed his solo scenes.

"are you usually this quiet with san too? from what i heard, you're supposedly a lot of fun...." hongjoong asked but seonghwa had pulled him away from you after seeing how uncomfortable you looked. not that hongjoong scared you or anything, you just really can't talk to people you don't already know for weeks.

once san was done, he would sneak up from behind you and snatch your phone away from you and push you to the other members, forcing you to make friends with them since you can't be shy around them if you were dating him. but ofc, he would be there with you as you interacted with the rest, making you feel a little more at ease at least.

Mingi

you went to their music show performance to support your mingi and he decided that it was a good idea to invite you backstage. he had went to the toilet when you went backstage and so you just stood outside their waiting room awkwardly since you weren't close with the other ateez members.

when he came back from the washroom and saw you waiting outside, he would grab your arm and guide you into the room while announcing to the whole world, "MY SWEETHEART IS HERE!!!"

it was lowkey embarrassing but now that Mingi was there, you felt more at ease and could interact with the other members more easily.

Wooyoung

you and wooyoung were both crackheads when y'all were alone and so wooyoung knows exactly how to get your inner crackhead out no matter where and when.

so when he noticed that you were holding back and not being yourself when the 99z had tagged along on your date, he would put on those ridiculous shades that he always brought along and start doing the stupidest things and cracking the funniest jokes.

needless to say, you couldn't hold in your laughter nor the urge to join in on the fun.

Jongho

jongho would be so caring and gentle when he saw that you were struggling to open up to the other members, since you were the same when the both of y'all first met. he would always make sure to be beside you whenever the nine of you were hanging out and if he did have to go somewhere he would tell seonghwa to make sure the members don't bother you too much until he's back.

he would also say things like "you don't have to be shy around them, they are my closest friends and they won't judge you no matter what, I promise." to assure you.

it took you quite awhile to become friendly with them, as usual, but jongho definitely made the whole process much more comforting.

[gaasaku-fanfests]

I can't hold enough of you in my hands

Title: I can't hold enough of you in my hands Author: elleurs Rating: T Word Count: 2,504 words Summary: Band!au. Gaara as the vocalist. Sakura on bass. Gaara making moves on Sakura just before the show/during the show? Author’s Note(s): Someone help me, this took way too long to write and I hate myself haha. I love GaaSaku but AU is not my forte omg I’m sorryyyyyy I don’t know a lot of music stuff so forgive me uwu I did my best. Thanks for the prompt anon! Trope: Band!au. Gaara as the vocalist. Sakura on bass. Gaara making moves on Sakura just before the show/during the show?

.

X

D-Day: 7 days

Sakura has never played bass before, but it doesn’t stop Naruto from recruiting her into the band. She’s a sucker for her blond friend, especially when he pulls out his signature puppy-dog eyes and pleading pout combo.

How can she say no?

And okay, maybe Naruto buttering up to her for weeks with pandering statements of “Sakura-chan, you’re a genius, you’ll pick it up in no time!” and “You’re the only one I know who can definitely do it!” stroked her ego until she believed those words herself. Resigned, she’d finally agreed.

Bass guitar resting on her lap (courtesy of Ten-Ten’s brother), she opens the video tutorial Naruto sent to her the day before.

And promptly realises her book-smarts do not translate well to musical instruments.

She fumbles spectacularly. It’s not like she’s never held a guitar before (Ino dated Kiba for a while and he loved to show off how well he could play – he let her borrow it a few times for the ‘gram), but playing it is another matter.

The theory she understands – she can read the notes just fine, but once her fingers try to find the right string, it’s all downhill from there.

It sounds so horrible even to her untrained ears and she feels like crying.

Fuck her life.

X

D-Day: 6 days

Gaara is…quiet.

It’s weird, because he’s the vocalist, but she doesn’t complain – Naruto speaks enough for the both of them.

For all three of them, really.

“We’re planning to just do a cover of this song,” Naruto explains, slinging an arm on her shoulder. He works out daily at the gym, and his arm is so heavy that she hurriedly shrugs it off before her neck breaks.

Gaara’s behind them, hands in pockets and headphones blasting who knows what song. She looks between him and Naruto and wonders how they met.

She meets Gaara’s gaze, and he’s the first to look away, frowning.

“Gaara’s on strict orders not to say anything until near the performance,” Naruto continues, blissfully unaware. “Aren’t you, Gaara? He’s had a sore throat for the past few days! Only one song, don’t worry. They know Neji stopped playing for us, so they just want us to play something different.” She nods, half-listening.

Their usual bass player, Neji, had to stop once his uncle found out he’d been skipping cello lessons to play in their band. Sakura had only met the uncle once. She can’t blame Neji for backing down.

She doesn’t have the heart to tell Naruto how badly her first foray into bass playing went. Instead she keeps her mouth shut.

It’s just one song.

She can do it.

When she gets home, she works through the online bass tutorials between homework sets and assignment research. She practices until the pads of her fingers on her left hand have little creases from when she would press the strings. She practices hard because she doesn’t want to embarrass herself, but most of all, she didn’t want to let Naruto down.

Naruto has that effect on people, she thinks as she carefully places the bass guitar back on its stand (thank you, Tenten’s brother).

He makes you want to try harder.

X

D-Day: 5 days

Naruto hands her the music sheet with no words. Then he hands her another sheet with just the bass tabs.

“I wasn’t sure which one you’re more comfortable with reading,” he said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. She smiles, grateful, and takes the tab.

It’s a lot easier than the music sheet because it shows the strings and which part to press. But still, she gets the placing of her fingers the other way around, or she plucks the wrong string.

There’s only four strings in a bass guitar, which makes her feel even more of a failure, but she struggles on, practising her part diligently until Gaara comes in. Naruto stops playing the drums and throws his friend a grin.

“Maybe help Sakura for now?” he calls out. “If you play the guitar, she might get confused.” Normally, Sakura will be affronted because Sakura does not get confused. She silently endures and makes personal executive decisions in order to prevent that very scenario. That is quintessential Sakura Haruno right there.

But before she can retort, Gaara grabs a chair and sits in front of her, arms crossed and face carefully blank. She’s not sure what to do, but then decides to hell with it and starts from the beginning.

His stares are heavy and she feels uncomfortable. He waits until she finishes the song and made a circle with his finger, indicating for her to start again. Shrugging, she flips back to the first page of the tab and starts to play. Too focused on the music in front of her, she doesn’t notice Gaara until he stood right behind her.

Both his hands brush past her waist and he places them on top of hers. He positions her right hand until her thumb is resting on the highest string and her other fingers are curled, poised for the next note. Next, he fixes her left hand so that the pad of her index finger is on the edge of the fret.

She feels his breath near her ear and her brain short-circuits at the proximity. His hands over hers is warm as he leads her to play the next few notes. When he plucks the strings, she’s surprised at the clear sound the bass makes.

“T-Thanks,” she says, “I got it from here.” Gaara steps back and sits back down.

She messes up so badly that Naruto stops playing the drums and asks her if she’s okay.

X

       D-Day: 4 days

She may or may not have stayed up late last night going over the music.

In typical Naruto fashion, he only gave her the music sheet for the bass, so she has no idea what the song even is, or how the main melody goes. She hopes what she practiced will be enough because what happened yesterday –

She doesn’t even want to think about it. Her cheeks are red from embarrassment.

In the next practice, she doesn’t make a mistake until Gaara walks in. And then her fingers fumble, missing a few beats.

“Don’t do that on the day,” Gaara says as he straps his guitar. It’s the first thing he says to her. That – That –

That asshole!

“I won’t,” she retorts, gritting her teeth. She turns her body away, part embarrassed, part angry, and practises her strumming, trying to remember where to place her fingers and to strum on time. She can feel his gaze on her but she doesn’t care about that pompous asshole and keeps playing.

They’re lucky she even said yes to this thing! Didn’t he know she’s a busy person? She could be doing a hundred other things, but here she is, playing this stupid bass on their stupid band.

When Naruto arrives, Sakura is ready to go home.

“But we have to practice!” Naruto shouts as she stomps out of the room.

“I’ll practise by myself!” she says without turning back.

That night, Sakura practices her part over and over again until she memorises where her fingers are supposed to go and which string she’s supposed to pluck. Every time she falters, she thinks back on Gaara’s words and his haughty expression. It’s enough to make her want to wow him tomorrow and make him eat his words.

She imagines playing the bass so good his jaw drops on the floor, but privately, she thinks that it would be easier to just smash the bass on his face.

It’d be much more satisfying, too.

X

D-Day: 3 days

In the next practice, Gaara is absent.

“His body finally gave out, I guess,” Naruto says as he twirls the drumsticks in the air and catches one of them. He hurriedly stoops down to pick it up. When he stands up, he sees Sakura’s alarmed expression and hastily adds, “He finds it really hard to sleep, so he can go a couple of days without sleeping.”

Sakura still looks alarmed. “What?” Naruto scratches his cheek absentmindedly.

“He’s an insomniac,” he clarifies. “That’s why he doesn’t practice with us. He usually practices late at night until early morning. Hey, did you know he can play a lot of instruments? His house has like, a huge music room with just instruments, you know?”

Sakura holds up a hand to stop her friend before he completely derails the conversation. “Is his body okay? Should we check on him?”

“I dunno, he said it’s been like that since he’s young. Oh yeah, you know the music sheet I gave you? He transcribed all of it, by the way! He even made the bass parts himself! I couldn’t find the bass tabs anywhere so-“

Sakura’s stomach backflips at this piece of information. “Should we check on him?”

“Nah, he won’t answer the phone. It’s probably a good idea to let him sleep, it’s been a while since he could get a proper rest.”

“He’ll be fine?”

“Don’t worry, Sakura-chan! He’ll be here tomorrow!”

Sakura stares at the empty chair where Gaara usually sits and frowns. Turning away, she gives a signal to Naruto.

“One, two, three!”

She doesn’t make a mistake once.

X

D-Day: 2 days

Gaara is here and his stare is heavy.

Sakura loves books, and she knows the expression well (trashy romance books are her ultimate guilty pleasures, after all), but it’s the first time in her life she actually experiences it– she’s not sure what to think.

It’s intense, and the way their eyes meet every so often causes her to redden – from embarrassment or what, she’s not sure.

Still, she refuses to be embarrassed – honestly, it’s too late for that now. Their performance is in a few days (!!!!), and the thought makes Sakura’s hands sweat. She misses a few bars in the song, and she doesn’t miss the way Gaara’s eyebrow raised, mocking her.

She grits her teeth when Naruto stops his drumming and tells her they’re going to start from the top. He’s unusually determined, and she can’t muster her usual sarcastic retort because this time, the fault is with her. Instead, she nods and grips the neck of the bass guitar a little tighter.

Gaara’s stare is as heavy as having Naruto’s arm around her shoulders.

Maybe even heavier.

She ignores it, and after a few play throughs, she finally plays it all the way through without any mistakes. It’s a miracle, she thinks, because her mind is half on the song and half on the red-haired boy in front of her.

She wants to meet his stare head on. Maybe narrow them in distaste. Except she maybe kind of likes him. A little bit. A super tiny little bit. A microscopic, tiny bit. The thought of him transcribing bass tabs for her in the middle of the night makes her stomach queasy and her heart tighten. He’s still an asshole, though.

So maybe not distaste but – silent contemplation?

Something like that.

 X

D-Day: 1 day

It’s the day before the performance and Sakura’s heart beats so fast she thinks she might throw up. The stage manager at Shuriken fusses around them on small stage, a short woman with hair up in a bun and wearing a perpetual bitch face. She screams at a poor guy named Tobi.

“No, Tobi,” the stage manager says. Sakura listens to their conversation because it’s better than realising she’ll have to play to a live audience. “Damnit, where’s Deidara? Let me speak to him instead – why? Because you’re a fucking idiot, that’s why! Fuck off and find me Deidara!” Tobi scurries off, but not before flipping a finger behind her back. The stage manager gives Sakura a brief once over and groans, before pointing at her guitar.

Sakura’s confused look only serves to make her impatient, and she snaps her fingers and points at her guitar again. Does she want the guitar?

“I’m surrounded by idiots, fucking hell,” the woman grumbles, before kneeling down and plugging something onto Sakura’s guitar. “Damnit, Tobi, where the fuck is Deidara?” She storms off and the other staff gives her wide berth.

Naruto bumps elbows with her. “Don’t take her too seriously, Sakura-chan! She’s like that, but she’s very good at her job. Right, Gaara?” Gaara grunts.

Sakura isn’t reassured, but tries to smile anyway. The Shuriken isn’t that big – with Konoha University’s funds focusing on sports, it’s a dingy bar at best. Most students go there anyway instead of the games. The drinks are cheap, and if you’re with a band, you get a few drinks for free.

“Gaara’s going to do an acoustic at the first part,” Naruto explains as he sits down in front of the drum set. “Then he’s going to swap the acoustic for electric. Once he does, I’ll count you in.”

It takes them a couple of times but they finally figure it out. Gaara doesn’t sing because Tobi lost the mics.

“Tobi, you’re fucking useless!” the stage woman screams while they practice. “You’re dead meat, you hear me? And where the fuck is Deidara?”

Sakura prays tomorrow will be smooth sailing.

 X

D-Day

Sakura’s hands are sweating and shaking so much. They’re behind a curtain, waiting for Sasuke’s band, Sharingan, to finish their set. Her heart is beating so loudly she can’t even focus or enjoy the music. Naruto is nowhere to be found, probably hanging out with Hinata before their performance.

Where’s Naruto when you need him?

Gaara sees her alarmed expression and approaches. Her heartbeat skyrockets.

“Put your hands out like this,” he says, placing his hands as if in prayer. She does the same. He slaps the backs of her hands, surprising her. It stings a little. “Are they still shaking?” She looks at her hands.

“N-No,” she stammers. Gaara smiles (HE CAN SMILE????) and pats her head.

“Just do what you did yesterday,” he says. She’s still stupefied at seeing his smile (HE IS CAPABLE OF SMILING!!). “If you mess up, I’ll cover for you.”

“You’re singing and playing the guitar though,” she points out.

Gaara raises a brow. “So?” So cocky. Much asshole.

She doesn’t notice because her brain is still restarting from his smile.

He can smile. And his eyes crinkle in the cutest way possible. She wants to melt, and realises his smile is a potent weapon against her. Even more potent than Naruto’s his signature puppy-dog eyes and pleading pout combo. She’ll never be able to say ‘no’ to that smile.

The thought scares her.

Fuck.

The Sharingan finishes their set and leaves the stage.

Fuck.

“Wanna go out for drinks later?” Gaara asks nonchalantly as they walk to the stage.

She stares at him, eyes wide as the reality sinks in. Adrenaline is coursing through her veins as she stares at the crowd and then stares at him.

Fuck fuck fuck.

“Fuck yes.”

X

[billhaderplsholdme]

starting to work at the movie theater with college!bill

warnings: swearing, that’s p much it

- you were drowning in student loan debt so you needed to pick up a part time job to cover some of the expenses

- you applied everywhere: the coffee shop, the local diner, your favorite restaurant... and the only place you were able to even get an interview at was the shitty movie theater at the shopping center

- you didn’t mind since you loved movies but it definitely wasn’t your first choice

- on your first day it was really slow and there was only one other person working

- your manager walked you to the concessions stand and yelled over at the boy working the popcorn machine, “hey bill, doesn’t look like it’s gonna be too busy tonight. could you train her?”

- bill turned to look where you were standing and you couldn’t help but swoon

- he was so cute and had the prettiest curly hair you’ve ever seen

- you were snapped out of your thoughts when he walked up to you and held his hand out

- “sorry, what?” you said, blushing so hard you felt like a tomato

- bill just smiled, “I said I’m bill, what’s your name?”

- “oh, sorry. I’m y/n. nice to meet you.” you shook his hand. you felt butterflies in your stomach at the contact but you shook them off, reminding yourself that this is your co-worker and you literally just met

- he walks you over behind the counter and goes over the general stuff

- “so uh, this is how they say you should make the popcorn, but I always put a little more butter because why not” he shrugs and pours more than he should

- you laughed and nodded along, entranced by his voice and distracted by how cute he was

- you weren’t even sure if you were gonna remember anything he taught you because you couldn’t stop staring

- “uhh, the slurpee machine, pretty simple. you just pull down and it shits out all the slurpee you need. my favorite mixture is the cherry and Mountain Dew. kinda my special recipe. wanna try?”

- you nod and he grins, grabbing a water cup and filling it up with the perfect amount of cherry and mountain dew slurpee, handing it to you, “just don’t do this in front of the managers, they go batshit crazy whenever we drink the slurpees”

- your hands brush when he hands you the cup and you get goosebumps. you take a sip and it’s so fucking good. “holy shit”

- he laughs, “right?!”

- after he finishes teaching you the rest of the basics, you guys get to talking.

- it’s a Wednesday night so there was really no one there, which was great because no customers came to interrupt you two.

- you guys talk about your favorite movies, what movies you’re looking forward to... all that jazz

- you guys flip out when you mention that the evil dead movies are some of your favorites, and end up talking about that for like 30 minutes straight

- then he makes fun of you for not having seen back to the future yet

- “WHAT THE FUCK? are you fuckin nuts?! how are you alive right now?”

- “I’ve just never gotten around to it!”

- “oh so you can watch 16 candles everyday but never watch one of the greatest movies of all time?”

- you laughed, slightly embarrassed but knowing he was joking

- “ok.. what about... Airplane?” he asks

- you grimace out of embarrassment as you look at him

- he flips out again, “WHAT?! that’s like, the funniest movie of all time man. you gotta watch it.”

- you promise you will and smile at him

- he goes, “okay, you know what? make a list of every classic movie you haven’t seen yet and I can have you over to watch them if you want”

- you were shocked by his confidence and the fact that he wanted to hang out with you outside of work, especially having just met. “really?”

- he just shrugs, like it’s nothing. “really!”

- you smile wide, “...okay”

- you were about to make this list as long as possible just so you could spend more time with him

- suddenly, your manager walks up to you guys, “alright, you two are good to clock out for the night. hope bill didn’t bore you to death there, y/n”

- bill raised his arms, “what did I ever do to you man?”

- you laughed and bill walked with you to clock out, grabbing his jacket and throwing it on while you guys walked out to the parking lot.

- you awkwardly point to your car, “well... this is me.”

- he chuckles, “no way, I’m parked here too! what a coincidence”

- you couldn’t help but laugh. why was he so damn charming?!

- he takes out his phone, “here, why don’t we exchange numbers so we can schedule our film festival?”

- you laugh and pull yours out, handing your phones to each other to exchange information

- you got yours back and saw that he saved his contact name under “bill (your movie jedi)” you laugh and look up at him

- “get it? cause like, you’re kinda the padawan in this situation but instead of the force it’s movies?”

- you burst out laughing at how cute but nerdy that was

- he puts his hands up laughing and goes, “I thought it would be funny, man. sorryyyyyy for making a perfect connection right there.”

- you reassure him, “no, it was great. I promise.”

- he laughs, he almost looks relieved. like he wanted you to like his joke.

- you cut in, “alright, well I better get going. thanks for uh, you know. training me and stuff. and talking about movies. not a bad first day”

- he smiles, “no problem. remember to send me that list, okay?”

- “I will! okay, uh bye..” you hold out your hand for him to shake, but to your surprise one of his arms pulls you in for a hug

- “sorry, I’m a hugger,” and pulls back casually. “alright, goodnight y/n, see ya soon.”

- you lose your mind over the fact that he just hugged you and can’t find the words to say, so you just smile and wave, then he turns around towards his car, walking in the opposite direction

- you turned on your heels quickly and started giddily walking to your car. oh my god oh my god oh my god

- you get in and rest your head on the steering wheel, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

- maybe working at the movie theater wouldn’t be so bad

[hithoeshi]

angst, 17 w/ shinsou ?🥺

—empty promises

request: 17. “stop making empty promises”  words: 1.2k  a/n: oof this hurrrttttt im sorryyyyyy  🥺

He promised.

His words echoed in your mind for what seemed like the thousandth time within the last two hours. With each passing minute, the anxious tapping of your foot against the hardwood floor turned to agitation, boiling your blood as hurt ebbed into your heart.

He promised.

Your glassy eyes turned to the candles burned down to the stub of a wick, the steam that was emitting from the food long gone just like the wine in the glass that was emptied into your throat after the thirty-minute mark. The warmth from the alcohol was only helping the hurt and anger fester inside until you felt like you were breaking.

He promised he would be here.

Before you could let yourself truly break down, you sniffed and pushed yourself to your feet. Numbly, you began cleaning up. There was no need for it now, anyway. You started with the plates still filled with food, scraping the wasted food and effort into the garbage with a clenched jaw. You knew you probably should have eaten but the anxiety prevented you from starting without him and the anger churned your appetite.

You tackled the dishes next, hopeful that the mundane task would help you forget just for a moment. Unfortunately, your mind had other plans.

This wasn’t the first time you were stood up by Hitoshi.

You were understanding. You had to be. With your boyfriend being a pro hero, he often worked long and grueling hours with almost no time off. You didn’t mind that. You understood. What kind of significant other would you be if you didn’t support your boyfriend?

No, this wasn’t the first time. The first time Hitoshi stood you up, it was more public. More humiliating. He was quick to apologize profusely and sincerely so you had forgiven him, although the feeling of sitting alone with eyes filled with pity staring at you made your heartache. But you forgave him because things happen right?

First, the excuses were pointed toward work so you naturally understood. You knew going into the relationship that it would be rough having alone time, even if he was working as an underground hero.

But then they developed into other excuses, weaker excuses.

“I had some errands to run.”

“I was held up at the bar with Kaminari.”

“I had to deal with some things.”

Soon he stopped using excuses and just apologized.

And you felt...overbearing questioning him on why he was late or where he was. But mostly you felt hurt because it felt like you weren’t a priority anymore.

You even tried to fix the issue. You had sat him down and talked, expressing your hurt and how you really wanted to make this work but you wanted to feel like he cared enough for you to let you know if he was going to run late instead of leaving radio silence.

“I’m sorry, kitten.” Hitoshi had said, pulling you closer with his hands resting on your waist. “I promise I’ll make more of an effort.”

“You promise?” You had asked, eyes still glossy from the emotion the talk had brought into your heart.

And he had leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead before repeating the phrase. “I promise.”

You laughed harshly as you scrubbed the pan roughly, jaw clenched tight at the memory. You had then given him a hand in the dark, this dinner as a peace offering and a new beginning of sorts while celebrating their anniversary. You were excited. You got premium ingredients, cooked almost all day, cleaned up the apartment, and even bought new clothes for the occasion. You had went all out.

And when you had told him dinner was at six, your heart had swooned as he promised that he would be there.

He promised.

You felt like a fool for getting emotional again, the tears beginning to fall as you continued washing the dishes.

It was around eleven o’clock when you heard the click of the front door shutting quietly. You had wrapped a blanket around you and laid curled up against the back of the couch, deciding to wait up until he finally showed up to confront him instead of going to bed and pushing it off until morning.

You looked up with slightly puffy and tired eyes, noting the worried and ashamed look on Hitoshi’s face as he hesitantly walked into the living room with his hands deep in his pockets. You stood up, letting the blanket fall back onto the couch as your arms crossed your chest.

“Baby, I'm-”

"You promised.” Your words cracked as they slipped from your lips, unsure if it was due to lack of use or emotion.

Hitoshi winced slightly, nodding as one hand went to rub the back of his neck. “I know. I’m sorry, baby. Time just got ahead of me and I-”

“Five hours got away from you?” You asked incredulously, jaw clenched and your nose flaring in anger. The hurt was continuously building in your chest, threatening to burn behind your eyes. “You knew about tonight. I know you knew because we talked about it this morning.”

Hitoshi sighed, running his hand through his disheveled hair as his brow furrowed. “What do you want me to say, Y/N? What do you want me to do? Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it-”

“I wanted you to stop making empty promises!” You cried out, eyes glassy and clenched fists shaky by your side. “I wanted you to make me feel like I wasn’t just another thing you had to take care of. I wanted to feel like I meant something to you...” You rubbed the heel of your hand against your eyes as you felt the hurt accumulate to fall against your cheeks. You could hear him stepping forward, still hesitant.

And in that moment, you broke.

You choked on a sob, trying your hardest to collect yourself as you straightened up. After months of dealing with this feeling of not being enough, you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t stand there and try and fix what was broken if he kept breaking it.

“I can’t do this.” You breathed out shakily, sidestepping him and stormed over to the door, pulling your jacket from the hook.

“Wait, where are you going Y/N? It’s late.” His voice was laced with worry as he followed after you.

“I don’t care. I can’t be here right now. I'm...I'm done, I can’t..” You couldn’t even get your words out and you hated it. You wanted to be angry with him, you wanted to scream at him. But you couldn’t. It just...it hurt too damn much to look at him knowing that he didn’t love you as much as you loved him.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m going to stay with Uraraka for a while. To think things through.” Your voice shook as you pushed your arms through the sleeves and grabbed your keys, tucking your phone into your pocket. You opened the door and, against your better judgment, looked back at the confused but worried expression on Hitoshi's features.

You bit your lip, debating on your next words before you sniffed and cleared your throat. Your next words echoed in the hallway and in Hitoshi’s mind for the rest of the night.

“Happy anniversary, Toshi.”

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