#the fluff will never end

[dcxdpdabbles]

Tim: Hello? Is someone in my closet?

Danny broke into the Drake manor, thinking it was abandoned and hiding in the closet once he realized there was a kid alseep on the bed: Um, no, it was just your imagination.

Tim: If you're my imagination, then how can you talk?

Danny sweating: Because I'm an imaginary friend?

Tim: ....

Danny:....

Tim:...

Danny: Ugh kid, you still there-

Tim throwing the closet door open: I HAVE A FRIEND!? WOW! YOU'RE SO PRETTY TOO! HOW ARE YOUR EYES SO GREEN, AND YOU'RE HAIR SO WHITE AND ARE YOU GLOWING!? YOU'RE FLOATING TOO! ARE YOU SMART? MY IQ IS 142. WHATS YOURS?!

Danny staring down at seven year old genius stun: I never had my IQ tested-

Tim: That's okay! I have the paper test! It can be the first thing we do together as best friends! I have a friend!!!!

Danny:....okay sure lets take that test. Don't be disappointed when I don't score high. I failed freshman English.

Tim: How can you fail a class I never took? Aren't you from my mind?

Danny: Sometimes imaginary friends are from parts of our minds that we don't know we have but are the heroes we need the most. By the way, kid, don't tell anyone about me.

Tim nodding: Because they won't be able to see you and think I'm crazy. I don't want to end up in Arkham, so I'll keep you secret, Glowy.

Danny: Glowy?

Tim: I made you so I name you. Your name is Glowy

Danny: I actually go by Phantom-

Tim: No. Glowy.

Danny: Hey, I'm older than you. I'm fifteenth, which is practically an adult, so if I say my name is Phantom, then my name is-

Tim: I made you. I can unmake you.

Danny: Well, that was a vaguely horrifying thing to hear from an ankle bitter. How about that IQ test, huh?

Tim: Its going to be so much fun Glowy!

Danny sighing: Yeah, I guess it will.

[hoonatic]

emergency contact | park sunghoon x reader

prompt: weeks after your breakup, sunghoon finds out that he’s still your emergency contact. pairing: non-idol sunghoon x implied female reader genre: angst with hopeful/happy? ending; second chance romance??; exes to lovers??? word count: 2800 note: i’ve had a cute fic idea that i wanted to write forever…but this is not it. the sad demons have visited me once again. hope y’all enjoy nevertheless and any feedback is much appreciated <3

sunghoon was miserable. 

it had been three weeks, five days, two hours, and thirty-two minutes since the two of you had gone no contact.

he wished he could say he was happy to be single, that he was no longer “locked down” and “whipped” as his friends had always called him. but the so-called “freedom” felt like hell since it meant losing you.

at first, he kept telling himself that time would heal the pain. “it’s natural,” he had repeated like a mantra, “she was your best friend and lover for years.” but no, this heartbreak was inhumane. his desire to see you, apologize endlessly, and spend days holding you until you could feel every ounce of his love was gnawing at his soul. if anything, it got worse by the minute.

he had tried so hard to balance work and the rest of his life, using the excuse several times that he was securing this future for your shared life with him. that one day, you’d be able to reap the rewards of his efforts and live comfortably together without stress.

but what was the use of all of that now? the future he had worked so hard to create was ripped out from his hands by no one other than himself. 

you had accused him of being too busy for you. dates canceled at the last minute, a birthday forgotten, and all the texts left on read had built up to the argument that ended it all. he was always good at fighting, a little too good. he had retorted that you weren’t being supportive, and he was never one to sugarcoat his words. his tongue was sharp, and he did nothing to dull its blade.

but there wasn’t too much yelling on your part, and he thought that that hurt more. he wanted you to fight back, to stand your ground because he knew deep down that he was being the asshole. his toxic thought was that by you fighting back, this meant that you were still fighting for your relationship. but instead, you just stared with silent tears and a blank expression. seeing the indifference in eyes that had previously held so much love was a sight that would stay with him forever. so, in fear of you leaving, he ran instead.

he was a coward, leaving your shared home to run back to the apartment he had still technically owned but hadn’t lived in for more than a year. he locked himself away for a few days, but the realization that you hadn’t attempted to contact him burned more than he could put into words. you were done with him. he had hurt you, had the audacity to be the one to run, and now he had lost you.

he had even run from his job. he couldn’t stand to walk into the same building he stayed in when he forgot dates with you. his coworkers wouldn’t stop asking what happened to him, why he looked so rough. he even found an empty container that had once held lunch you made for him. but his final straw was getting promoted. his first instinct was to call you, but he remembered the sad truth before he could dial. any ounce of pride was washed away with shame in that moment. that same day, he quit without notice.

so there he was: miserable, alone, and unemployed with nothing left to run from but memories. he had spent the last week going through his phone and saving your pictures together in a locked album. he wouldn’t dare delete them, but he couldn’t stomach looking at you either.

he wished he could get drunk and sleep away the pain. he had tried, he definitely did - but that night, he dreamt of you. you were smiling at first, eyes ever full of love. you were speaking, yet he couldn’t hear you. but he could see how your words started to gradually look sadder, and slowly, tears started to fall as your grin dropped. he woke up that next morning crying with the conclusion that he would have to face this heartbreak sober.

but another day of scrolling through albums had stopped abruptly when he saw the notification that changed everything.

SOS i called emergency services from this approximate location after my watch detected a hard fall. you are receiving this message because i have you listed as my emergency contact.

sunghoon had to remind himself to breathe.

he had purchased that watch for you as a “just because” present months ago. you had complained of bad sleep and he wanted you to use it as a way to track your slumber. he hated seeing you tired. he knew that the watch had a fall detection function, but it had never been used before.

his heart was in his stomach as he went to his favorite contacts page and selected your name for the first time in weeks.

“please,” he begged, all notion of running away from you leaving his brain, “pick up please.”

but you just weren’t answering. so he tried again and again and again.

for a moment while the line attempted to connect, he wondered if this was how he had made you feel for months - desperate for a sliver of attention from him. but instead, he was desperate for a sign of life.

finally, after about two minutes of trying to reach you, his body moved of its own accord. before he knew it, his car keys were in his hands and he was out the door.

the car ride there might have been the worst part. the speed at which he drove at almost defied the laws of physics. other drivers were cursing at him but he wasn’t registering anything except the thought of your safety. he just needed to get to you.

why did he run? why didn’t he try to talk it out? if he was so afraid of losing you, why did he do the one thing that would guarantee that? he should have been there like he promised to be from the beginning. you would have been safe with him.

when he pulled up to the house you had shared for so long, he suddenly felt the world slow down. why were emergency services there? you should’ve canceled them by now.

he had to double park as the ambulance was blocking the driveway. why were they here?

the emts and police had arrived at the same time as him, which both increased his anxiety and soothed him. for one, that meant he had been quick enough. but why did you need them?

“sir, do you know–” an officer had approached him as he stumbled to the front door. all he could understand was your name. why were they asking if he knew you? of course he knew you. you, the love of his life. you, his soulmate by every meaning of the word. you were you. and you were safe.

as if sensing his distress, he felt an emt worker pull him to the side as the same officer prepared to break down the door. seeing this, sunghoon finally returned to his senses.

“w-wait! sorry, i have a key.” sunghoon’s hands were shaking. the only way that door had unlocked was by pure muscle memory because he didn’t understand what he was doing at all.

as soon as the door opened, sunghoon tried to step in. finally, he was close to you. 

the officer, however, pulled him back.

“sir, you should wait here. we need to make an initial search before you can go in.”

“what, why? if she’s in there, i want to see–”

“sir, it’s just in case we find something we wouldn’t want you to see.”

all of sunghoon’s hesitation and fear went out the window at those words. his body flew automatically as he ran inside.

he screamed your name as he rushed in, ignoring the yells of the police officers who followed him in. as it had been for almost four weeks, his only thought was you. he just needed you.

he checked the ground floor first, eyes scanning the open space in less than a second as his body avoided an officer trying to grab him. sunghoon then moved to the staircase, long legs prepared to skip steps to reach you. then suddenly, he heard the voice his ears had been longing for,

“sunghoon?!”

his head shot up. there you were, finally. he saw the sadness, confusion, and fear all flash your face as you registered the emergency workers behind him. you looked exhausted and unruly, but he had never felt more in love.

he didn’t even remember climbing the steps, but suddenly he was at the top of the staircase and you were in his arms. 

you could feel him trembling as he held you. you took his face into your hands to look at him, “sunghoon? what’s wrong? why are you here? is it my parents? is someone hurt?” you watched as his mouth opened but no words came out. after a few seconds, one of the officers spoke from the bottom of the steps,

“ma’am, we received an alert from your device that a hard fall had occurred.”

suddenly, you understood everything. taking sunghoon’s hand gently, you led him down the stairs, afraid he’d fall from shock. he followed you silently, but his grip tightened seemingly with every step.

that’s when you noticed your shattered watch on the third step.

you let sunghoon go and you could hear his deep breath when you did. you picked up the watch and offered it up to the officer as an explanation, “i’m sorry officer, it looks like there’s been a misunderstanding…”

the officer nodded in understanding, and dismissed the emts, “got it, ma’am. we will still need a formal report for our records since this was registered as an emergency call.” he motioned to your couch as he took out a pen and paper.

you reached for sunghoon’s hand once more and led him to sit with you. in the moment, you knew he needed you more than you would ever understand. so, as you explained to the officer, you held his trembling hand, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb.

“i was doing laundry here downstairs and had taken off my watch to prevent it from getting wet,” you recounted, “i put it on top of the basket of clothes that i took upstairs. i remember tripping a little going up the stairs - i didn’t fall, but that must’ve been when the watch fell."

"what about your phone, where is it? i'm sure your boyfriend must've tried to call you."

sunghoon slowly nodded at that, turning to look at you. you smiled sheepishly, "i left it upstairs and it was on silent while i folded the clothes. i’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

after finishing up your statement, the remaining officer prepared to leave. as he walked out the door, he gave a soft smile to the both of you,

“glad to see it was a false alarm, ma’am. you had this gentleman quite worried - ran so fast i couldn’t even grab him!” the officer laughed, “you two have a nice day now! sorry about your watch, though!”

after he shut your door, the silence enveloped your home. you closed your eyes and breathed deeply to prepare to speak to your ex-boyfriend. but as soon as you opened them, sunghoon started to cry softly.

he hugged you tighter than he ever had, and soon enough, his face was buried in your neck. his cries were silent, but you could feel his body shaking as his tears soaked your shirt.

“sunghoon…” you started, stroking his back, “i’m sorry i worried you, honey.”

you knew you shouldn’t be calling your ex pet names, especially an ex that had run from you without properly ending the relationship. but your heart still held so much love for him that it flowed out naturally. and you knew he was crying from more than just worry, so you doubt he minded at all in the moment.

his crying slowed down as his arms took to loosely wrapping around your waist instead. he pulled away from your neck to rest his forehead on yours. from this angle, you could see his swollen eyes and red nose - a sight so rare in all the years you had dated. he was never a crier after all.

but memories of several late-night conversations rushed your mind. he always said his number one fear was your death, and now you could see he had never lied about that.

he could see your mind go elsewhere so he called your name softly, “don’t say you’re sorry. i’m so happy, these are relieved tears. and i just really, really missed you.” he croaked out. you knew he had more to say, so you just nodded, letting him go on.

“and i’m sorry, baby. for everything. i shouldn’t have run, i shouldn’t have tried to egg you on to fight me back. i shouldn’t have even fought anything you said that night. you were right. i didn’t prioritize you. in my attempt to secure you for life, i let you go instead. i’m so sorry, i never wanted to break up.” he was rambling in earnest now, afraid that no words would make you take him back.

you listened quietly as he went on for a few minutes after that, hand continuing to rub his back, “i know honey, i know.”

“baby, you need to understand that i almost died thinking you almost died today,” you could’ve laughed at how dramatically he spoke, “i couldn’t breathe right thinking that our last conversation could’ve been an argument. that you wouldn't have ever known just how deeply i love you and need you. i have so much regret for how i treated you, but if you’d give me the chance, i have all the time in the world to make it up to you…let’s go on that vacation i promised you. we can leave tomorrow if you’d like.” he smiled hopefully at you.

“hoon,” his heart soared at the use of his beloved nickname, “what do you mean? don’t you have work? can you really leave with such short notice?”

“i quit my job.”

“excuse me?”

“no job that made me work that much is worth it. i’ll find one with better work-life balance…after our vacation. if that’s what you still want of course…” he spoke more quietly, as if afraid of rejection.

you sighed. you really should be realistic with this - you two had been broken up for a few weeks at that point. you knew the love was still there, but was this a good decision?

while there was still some hesitation on your part, you couldn't help but notice how gingerly he held you. his arms were still around your waist loosely, yet there was something desperate about their hold. you knew he was holding back from hurting you - you could tell how tightly he wanted to hug you.

he was so shaken up at the idea of you being hurt that he rushed over there despite the two of you not being on speaking terms. for someone who had trouble communicating how he felt sometimes, you knew his actions spoke louder than words. he always acted brave, but there was so much he feared. and you knew losing you was always at the top of this list.

you could also feel how he was simply soaking in the sight of your face. his eyes were shy, yet determined. he wasn't going to risk missing another second of staring at you. a part of you grew conscious, but you knew he was just taking in what he had missed for weeks.

“what about…” you started and almost giggled at how he perked up, “we take it slow - another two weeks or so to talk everything out and relax? to get us to a good place again before you hold me hostage in some foreign country?”

sunghoon smiled softly, kissing your forehead. you leaned in naturally to his warmth, to his touch that you missed so much. “that sounds like a great idea, love.” he spoke, “we’ll get you a new watch too. and i’ll do all the itinerary planning and packing whenever you’re ready, okay? i love you.”

“okay. and i love you too. can’t wait to enjoy your unemployment with you for now!”

one smile and nod from you had him taking you into his arms once more, relishing in your being. he was back where he belonged. he had experienced the scariest reminder ever that he needed you, and sunghoon was never letting you go now.

[suguruverse]

idk if anyone has ever talked about this but katsuki REFUSES to buy you flowers from the grocery store. like will not even look at it and will steer you away if he even catches you looking at it.

he genuinely looks at you crazy when you ask him why he’s avoiding the huge display of flowers because he cannot fathom why you would want “those cheap ugly shits” over a bouquet from the florist filled with your favourite flowers.

you pout when he drags you out the grocery store and back home only to wake up the next morning to a fresh bouquet on your bedside table with an obnoxiously large orange ribbon that screams katsuki name and a homemade breakfast from yours truly <3333

[vatelixx]

Ton 618,

S3-S4ish Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Fluff (no angst… surprisingly). Autistic Spencer (present in all of my one shots bcos it’s canon to me).

──── domesticated time inbetween cases & blind adoration.

Warnings: literally none (who am i???), brief mention of past trauma (Hankel).

w.c: 1.5k

— They’re both nerds who are a little too invested in space. Light biblical imagery & Greek mythology references. My writing has been sufficiently domesticated (dw i’ll be back to angst soon, war is not over.)

Loosely inspired by:

a/n: just giving him what he deserved to have.

────────────

For the first time, in a long time, there is little residing in Spencer’s mind. Beyond warm hands, and soft skin, and the pulse of someone else’s body. Obsessed is one word for it, a textbook definition that can’t truly articulate the ache he derives from the thought of you. Obsessed, fatefully ruined, if this is the work of divine intervention, then consider him, once obstinate in his atheism, entirely, profusely devout.

He’s still thinking about you. What’s new? The memory of your lips pressed against his, the tattooed promise of more, more because it will never be enough. He wants, god when has he ever wanted? Life before appears bleak now, black and white. Academia, pursuits of knowledge, lonely nights and the transient fear of forever being stuck in a cyclical cycle of loneliness.

You think he’s pretty. He smiles on the way home from work, Morgan pressing him, because ‘kid you can’t be that happy for no reason.’ There is a reason, a monumental, life-altering one that waits for him at the door. He likes that, the domesticity. He’s never asked for much, content in his mishaps of intimacy, always baring the weight because he wants needs to be good. For the people around him, for the home he’s carved into his skin, for anything that starves off the decades of isolation.

When he threads his arms around your waist, leaning all of his weight into the contact, you both go stumbling back.

He’s soft. Of course he’s endured more than anyone should, the sharp edge of addiction, the stifling weight of a morbid job that has him fixated, hook line and sinker, compass pointing South every time he’s thrown into the field. But for all of that, he still obtains naive, blinding light.

He burns. Or more so, he warms.

“Hi, hi. Sorry— that wasn’t very eloquent. Can I try again?” He’s halfway out of the door; you have to lean forward, grip his wrist, tug him closer, “Okay.” He laughs, “I’ll take that as a no?”

He’s certain your name is imprinted onto his heart. Carved just for you alone. There is no one else. There could never be anyone else.

That night he falls asleep on your shoulder. Hands interlocked, body splayed out across stressed leather, abandoning his book for the soft drab of safety. There’s a tangled wire of headphones draped between you, knotted further when you pull him, half conscious to bed. He follows mindlessly.

You spend his allocated time off as recluses, abandoning civilisation. No sunlight, his apartment is permanently drenched in molten light. Scattered lamps, balancing off stacked books and messy surfaces. Every morning he’ll wake you with butterfly kisses and the promise of a breakfast he will consistently burn. He’s content, over the moon, to forget the world around him. For it to just be, just the two of you.

Today, as usual, you eat his charred attempt at food. He’s trying, he’s definitely trying, even if the end result is… a health risk. Still, you eat it regardless, without complaint, you eat it.. and then he’s just… kissing you senseless in the middle of his kitchen. Cold tiled floor, and mismatched socks. Fuck, he loves you, he’s never loved someone the way he loves you.

“I’ve been dreaming about falling into black holes recently,” he says when you cradle his face. Pretty features besotted with the sight of you. “Weird. Kinda cool. Please don’t eat anymore of my food.”

“No promises,” you grin, and he has the audacity to pout.

Because that’s not fair, burnt food can cause carcinogens to form, to obstruct digestion and metabolism. “My cooking is going to kill you. Your death will be on my hands. The grief will be immeasurable. I’ll become a hermit, never leave my apartment again. Don’t do that to me.” hands wrapped around your wrists, he preserves the contact. “Please don’t do that to me.”

“Well only because you said please—“

He sighs, audibly, ”You just died, you’re dead, and the only thing you can focus on is a word. A word I very generously repeat, at any given moment.” — he’s polite, he will use his manners, and he will unceremoniously echo please please please to obtain even a fraction of you.

He’s senseless. Too far gone.

You take his hand, press it against your heart. “Still alive. I think?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “For now.”

“You’re dramatic—“

He cuts you off, “Did you know one of the largest black holes ever recorded is 66 billion times the mass of the sun? Ton 618.” Pausing to kiss you (a vital necessity), his hands play aimlessly with your hair, strands sliding through the crevices of his fingers. “Imagine falling into that—“ kiss, “You would die obviously,” kiss, “But it would be a pretty cool death.” Kiss. 

Time dilation, worm holes, cosmic demise, you. Sigh— you.

“It would take over 10 billion years for its light to reach earth.” you say, and yeah. Okay. Just casually recite facts to him. That’s okay. He won’t melt, because he’s a rational, dignified, highly-cerebral adult.

Lie. You always know when to talk, sometimes, sometimes, he gets so lost in thought-loops and spirals of intellectual confusion that you have to draw him back to the present. He disintegrates. Every. Single. Time. One intelligent word and the threads of him are woven tightly around your finger.

”You’re stealing my job. And—and you’re doing it better than me. I’m taking a vow of silence. No more words. I’m becoming a monk. Except, maybe without the celibacy?”

“Whore—“

“For you? Always.” he says, knocking his shoulder into yours, “You’re missing the important aspect to this. Don’t discard my threat.”

“Spence, if you ever stop reciting random facts to me at..” you scramble to check the time, early morning, it’s hard to differentiate the hours when they all bleed into one convoluted mess of intimacy. “At 9AM, we will have serious issues. I might get HR involved.“

He’ll ramble about the laws of thermodynamics. Dedicating hours to the philosophical differences between determinism and free-will. You’ll call him a nerd, and he’ll laugh, muffling your protests with his mouth. It’s routine. Something to fall back onto.

 “Hey! Don’t drag HR into our domestic affairs! That’s—“ he interrupts himself to kiss you, again. Just because he can.

Once he’s satisfied that his lips will ache for the next millennium, he continues. “Anyway. I think we should get old together, and then, when we’re losing our minds, and we can’t tell the days apart, we just.. take a casual trip to space, travel through Ton 618. I’d be scared, so I’d hold your hand when we fall. Getting sucked into eternal darkness would be an acceptable way to go.”

He laughs, “You know, as long as you’re by my side, or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” you repeat, before holding out your pinky. “Deal?”

He feeds his own through yours, “Deal.” 

Yeah, just promise eternal devotion to him. That wont have any lasting, fatal effects on his sanity. It’s not like he’ll cling to it for the remainder of his ephemeral existence.

Later that night, when you’re draped in limbs, skin pressed against skin, you sigh against the warm slope of his neck. “You’re reciting the periodic table in your sleep again..”

It’s a habit. A permanent, engrained idiosyncratic that he’s endured since adolescence. He stirs awake, turning to face you in the hazy light. Features swollen, sleep-soft and pretty. “Was I?” He murmurs, finding the audacity to ask, “What element was i on?”

Because that’s clearly essential.

“Osmium,” you say, tucking strands of tousled brown behind his ear. “Gonna continue?”

“Mhm— yeah. Iridium. One of my favourites, thank god you woke me up before I got to it.”

You humour his tendencies; you’re nothing if not a condoner of his weird quirks. “Discovered by Smithson Tennat in 1803.” is your response, “The name comes from Greek Mythology, Iris. Two stable Isotopes, 191 and 193.”

There you go again. Fracturing his mind, and stealing his information before it can fall from bruised lips.

He thinks you might be cut from the same cloth. He thinks he was probably just made for you. “I like the way you say Isotopes.” He mutters, “Like the way you kiss. You always take my top lip.”

There’s no epiphany. No sharp blade, dragging, penetrating, skin, forcing you to confront stifled feelings. They’ve always been there. Red string of fate, Plato’s Symposium: Aristophanes’ account of the ‘other half.’ Hero and Leander. It doesn’t matter. There’s only the here and now.

He does this thing. Often. Where he’ll moan into your open-mouth. Fingers sunk deep into your hair, keeping you impossibly tethered to him. You’re not sure what planet he fell from, but you’re glad they deported him, if only for your selfish benefit of circuiting around him.

“I’m in love with you,” the admittance is easy. Maybe the words have always been waiting for you to verbalise, bated breath, inexorably interlinked. Maybe they’re long overdue. Something pleading to be let out. But, maybe, it matters more to wait until this, when everything is soft and untouchable. Fresh, untainted. He’d like to live in your skin.

Here’s the thing, Spencer always thought he would be the first one to say it. Reciprocation was always a fantastical hypothetical, something he could only blindly hope for. But, to have his illimitable feelings, in their extensive capacity, matched? That’s— more than he ever thought he deserved.

He presses his forehead to yours, “Saying ‘i’m in love with you’ doesn’t measure up, doesn’t articulate even a fraction of what I feel for you.”

He’s pretty sure he could die right here, in this one fragile moment, and be happy with everything he’s accomplished.

[i-think-too-loud]

andrew thinks it’s funny to get neil a coffee mug for christmas one year that’s of aaron’s face. they both know it’s aaron. aaron knows it’s aaron. everyone else would (obviously) assume it’s andrew. they both claim it’s a joke and will sit in the back of the cabinet but somehow one of them ends up using it almost every morning

[celestialwrites]

star-crossed lovers dialogue and prompts

@celestialwrites for more!!

♡ one of them always knew they were destined to end, but accepted the fate despite it all, because they could not let their s/o go.

♡ “do you think i want to die? there isn’t any other way!”

♡ in an apocalyptic world, the end is nearing and they run into each others arms, embracing for the last time.

♡ “for you i would defy fate, i would defy the gods, and anyone who stands to hurt you.”

♡ “wake up! we could never be together.”

♡ reconnecting after years apart, just to be torn apart forever after a few weeks.

♡ “losing you is a fate worse than death.”

♡ character A’s face is the last face character B sees, “beautiful, just beautiful.” B mutters, before their eyes freeze, forever encapsulated in that moment.

♡ “don’t lie to me and tell me this is nothing! you feel it, i know you do.” “i feel nothing.”

♡ character A is forced to marry someone else while B sits in the audience and watches.

♡ “meeting her was the worst thing that ever happened to me, now i have to live in the absence of her. i have to feel the absence of her.”

♡ “he was sitting right next to me! i could have touched him, he was so close, so close yet so far away.”

♡ spy/assassin couple dying together saving the world, even though they only needed one sacrifice.

♡ “we are tragedy, nothing will change that.”

♡ character B lying about cheating on character A so character A would leave and be safe.

♡ “do not say you’re going to leave, drive a knife into my heart, truly, it would hurt less.” "don't joke about this." "you think i'm kidding?"

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS!!<33

[made-my-peace-with-all-the-bad]

Headcanon that Darrel did this thing where he would pick Ponyboy up and throw him like half over his shoulder then would walk to his room and toss Ponyboy onto the bed before telling him to go to sleep.

It started when Ponyboy was six and his parents told him it was bed time and he stubbornly crossed his arms and shook his head, saying that he didn’t wanna. After 20 minutes of his parents trying to get him to listen, Darrel had come in and just plucked Ponyboy into his arms and walked him to his bed before tossing him onto the bed, Ponyboy giggling the whole time. Once Ponyboy was fully tucked in, Darrel had put his hands on his hips and asked which story he wanted before going to bed. While all this was happening, Mr and Mrs Curtis sat on the couch, stunned at how easily Pony complied when his oldest brother was asking.

It kept happening, so much so that it became their little tradition. Pony would never admit it, but sometimes he’d refuse to go to bed because he wanted to bond with his brother. That especially started happening when Darrel hit high school and was suddenly at practice, or a game, or a party more often.

Like one time when Darrel was 16 and about to leave for a party. He’d kissed his mama’s cheek and told her he’d be back the next morning. As he was about to open his front door to jog over to Paul’s car, he heard his mama tell Ponyboy it was time for bed, and he’d heard the familiar groan that meant Ponyboy wouldn’t be listening. He’d chuckled, and turned around to run up and grab his little brother, laughing harder when Pony shrieked. He’d walked to his brother’s room and tossed him onto the bed like normal, this time pausing as Pony looked up at him like he wanted to ask for something. Darrel sighed before sitting on Pony’s bed and ruffling his kid brother’s hair. He expected Pony to shake him off or smack his hand away not lunge forward and hug him. He held his little brother and smiled when he felt Pony mumble “I love ya Darry” into his chest, before saying a simple “I love ya too, buddy. g’night”. Once he knew Pony was situated, he got up and flicked off the light, smiling as he watched his baby brother snore quietly. He’d said another goodbye to his mama before running to Paul’s car and recounting the story on the drive to whatever shitty party they were headed to.

The next big time was Darrel’s last night before college. It was a bittersweet time for their family, they were overflowing with pride, but they were going to miss him. When it had gotten late, Mrs. Curtis had turned towards her youngest and told him it was time to go to bed. This time, instead of contradicting her or refusing, Ponyboy had simply turned his gaze to his oldest brother, silently pleading for him to do their tradition. Seeing that look in Pony’s eyes made Darrel’s heart hurt, because Ponyboy was twelve now and constantly insisting that he was getting too old for it, but here he was, sitting on the floor, a movie playing on the tv, silently begging Darrel to be his annoying older brother. So Darrel kissed his mama’s cheek, thanked her for the dinner celebration, and told her he could take care of this. When he started towards Ponyboy, his expression shifted to be a mischievous one, before he started tickling his brother. He let him squirm for a bit before picking him up. Once they were in Pony’s room, Darrel stopped and sat down on the bed. He didn’t miss the tears that threatened to spill out of his brother’s eyes, so he pulled him in close. He felt his shoulder start to dampen, then he heard something that took his heart and stomped on it. “I’m gonna miss you Darry, don’t forget ‘bout me ‘n Soda, okay?” Darrel just rubbed his brother’s back and promised him, “I ain’t never gonna forget ‘bout you, buddy, and I’ll miss ya too, every damn day”. That night, Darrel stayed in Pony’s room. And if Soda crept in and tucked himself against his brother too, that was his business.

It stopped happening once their parents died. Suddenly, Darrel was too tired from work and taking care of the house and the gang. Suddenly, what was once playful banter became screaming matches. Suddenly, Pony’s brother was drifting away.

But then it happened again. It was a normal night with the gang, Soda and Pony and Steve were engaged in an intense card game, where in which Soda was obviously cheating but still managing to lose at the same time. Two Bit was sprawled across the couch, watching Mickey on tv. Darrel was in his chair, watching the game and laughing. When he checked the time, he realized how late it was, so he looked at Ponyboy and told him, “alright time for bed little buddy”. Pony rolled his eyes and whined about how it wasn’t that late and couldn’t he just stay up tonight. Darrel gave him a knowing glance but Pony wouldn’t budge. So Darrel got up, pulled Ponyboy up from where he was sitting and threw him over his shoulder. When he got to his brothers’ room, he plopped pony down on the bed, but was shocked when he looked at Pony, who worse a smile with tear filled eyes. Darrel immediately stopped and looked at him, worrying he’d accidentally hurt his brother again. When he asked what was wrong, Pony choked out “‘s nothin, just, it’s the first time you done that since mama and dad died” all while bringing his arm up to wipe his eyes. Darrel sucked in a short breath before hugging his brother tight to his chest and responding with a simple, “I love ya, honey, don’t you ever forget that, okay?” He felt Ponyboy nod against him before he responded with a quick, “‘course, love ya too Darry”.

Maybe they weren’t perfect, maybe they wouldn’t ever be, but they were getting better. Pony was closer to having his oldest brother back and Darrel was slowly becoming Darry again.

[levisrations]

Warnings: sorry more corny family stuff. Gn reader.

“Here you go bud” Levi sets down the little toddler plate, filled with cut strawberries, yogurt and some eggs, unto the high chair table.

“Tank yew”

“You’re welcome, kid”

After your toddler finishes his plate he signs he’s all done while also saying “Ah done” to his father, who was having his own breakfast next to him.

“Finished the whole plate. Good job”

Levi ruffles his sons hair and clears his little table. Then proceeds to clean his berry and yogurt stained face. Levi then sets your son down, distracted with some toys while he cleans up the kitchen.

“Alright kid, you ready to work out with your old man?” Which is just Levi lifting weights while your 1 year old is in a play pen watching his dad and playing with toys.

After a workout and some more play time. It’s time for a quick nap, so he’s not cranky when they go to see you at your job for lunch. You’ve got deadlines to meet by the end of the year so you’ve been staying late before you take a proper, long vacation with your little family. Though you and Levi made some plans to see each other during the day. You were sobbing realizing you weren’t gonna see much of them, especially your son since you had to leave before he wakes up and came home by the time he was asleep.

Thankfully you married the worlds greatest man and he came up with ways to see each other during the day. You cannot wait until vacation and spend some uninterrupted time with your little family.

[lighteyed]

can it be easy this once? / steve harrington

summary: steve accidentally gives a stupid answer to your honest question. (best friends with benefits pining idiots to lovers, fem!reader)

unedited we die like men & title from the alcott by the national ft taylor swift hehehe enjoy

It started as a means of comfort after Starcourt, when he was bloody and bruised up but you took him home and got closer, closer, closer, until it turned into a mess of blurred lines and panting breaths, lips swollen for reasons other than being hurt, for better reasons, reasons that brought forth safety and relief for the two of you. You both tend to hunger for such things. It’d been good, easy, for a bit there. Lately it’d felt like the intimacy was threatening to choke you. Like you’d never met a form of  closeness you didn’t cling to. And God, did it feel like you were clinging. Craving an unwarranted change. Was it so unwarranted? You weren’t sure, you could never tell.

    The air in his room is hot and sticky with summer, the ceiling fan providing the barest relief, your bare skin providing the slightest bit more. You stare all around his room, taking in all the stark traces of him, though in truth it doesn’t betray much, just as he attempts to. It’s a plain room, plaid walls, matching curtains, his desk messy and cluttered, all the dresser’s drawers slightly ajar like he spent a touch too long shuffling through all his clothes to determine which outfit would be best, which, knowing him in the way you do, he probably did. You knew he wasn’t as secure as he liked everyone to believe. Steve Harrington tried his best, but sometimes you saw right through him.

     Other times he was harder to read. It was probably purposeful, layers of protection built around himself. Don’t love anyone, don’t let anyone love you, and you won’t get hurt. People can only hurt you if you let them. Steve wasn’t letting anyone anymore. Definitely not his parents, definitely not Nancy Wheeler, definitely not random girls who would inevitably end up disappointed with him. He swore it all off. He was a hopeless romantic who never wanted to be in love again. You understood it for the most part. Or you attempted to. It was hard when you were halfway (maybe more than halfway) in love with the guy, in his bed most nights, in his company most days, acting like a couple without being an established couple because he was too hesitant and you were too gentle to be pushy.

    He nudges you lightly, naked chest peeking up from his covers, naked everything else kept firmly underneath. “You okay? You’re quiet.” He sits up so he’s level with you, and you avoid eye contact by leaning down toward the floor to grasp for the shirt he let you borrow, a faded Spider-Man one he insisted was from middle school. You didn’t entirely believe him, but maybe it was just funny, and kind of sweet, to picture Steve sleeping in a Spider-Man shirt and keeping it a secret just for himself. You pull the shirt on over your head, and before you can do it for yourself, he reaches for your hair and takes it out from where it’s caught under the shirt. The familiarity of it makes you flinch. You can have sex with him all you want but God forbid he’s the slightest bit loving outside of that. It confuses you, the softness in the touches that aren’t in bed with him. If he holds your hand in any context other than bringing you as into him as possible while he slips himself in and out, you lose all sense of normalcy between the two of you. You can’t be normal when he’s holding your hand and stroking your cheeks and being kind, soft, adoring Steve, without being your Steve.

     “I’m fine, I’m just…” You reach for your shorts at the end of the bed. Steve watches you get dressed with his eyebrows scrunched together, confused. You’re not usually in a rush to leave after you have sex. Not that he wants you to. He likes that you stay until day sinks into night and he drives you home and waits to repeat it all again. Waits to see you, generally. And it’s not sex every single time. You drag him to see whatever’s playing at the Hawk and he makes you sit with him at Family Video on slow days when it’s just him on the clock and a single tumbleweed blows through the store instead of any customers. He drives you just about anywhere you ask and he lets you put on any cassettes you want in his car even if he hates what’s playing. It’s nice, the friendship part of all of it. If you had to give everything else up and just keep the friendship you’d be willing. He’d be willing. You consider it. “Nothing, just tired, probably gonna head home,” you smile at him over your shoulder before pulling on your socks and it’s half-hearted and he knows it.

    “What? You can sleep here, you know that,” he waves a hand around the room, trying to catch your gaze, but you avoid his eyes again. Descending light slants in through the curtains and envelopes him in gold. He glows, he’s so pretty. His hair is messy from where you heatedly ran your hands through it, but it still looks nearly perfect. The fact that he always looks so good infuriates you.

    “No yeah, I know, I wanna like shower and stuff too, and I left my new book at home and I wanted to do some reading,” you bluff calmly, standing up from tangled bedsheets and roaming the room in search of your sneakers.

   “That Stephen King scary clown book? I’ll take you home and you can come back and read it here, so you don’t get scared,” and he knows you won’t get scared and that you love horror far more than he ever could but he just really, really doesn’t want to be alone. Why would you go when everything’s right here? His parents aren’t home and something about you leaving makes him antsy and desperate. When you still refuse to look at him he feels himself, his confidence, growing smaller and smaller. “Did I- did I do something?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound as pathetic as it does.

   You whip around to face him, finally, finally, and touch a hand to his face. Relief floods through him at the heat of your fingers. “No, of course not, it’s all me, okay? I’m all sweaty and awful.”

    “You look beautiful, I swear,” he squeezes your hand and you feel like you’re drowning. It’s hard to breathe, your chest tight. “Are you sure you’re okay? You can talk to me, it’s me.” He scoots closer, if that’s possible. “You’re one of my best friends, we tell each other everything.” You look up toward the ceiling, inwardly groaning. Best friend.

   “You do this with all your best friends?”  

    “Well, no, Robin wouldn’t touch me even if she didn’t like girls-“ He feels himself starting to grin, teasing smile lilting at his lips.

     “Steve!” You’re laughing a little and so is he as you push his arm back. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

    “What’d you mean, then?” He’s still smiling, that entrancing, deliberately pouty, lazy smile. Vaguely smirky. You don’t know if it’s deliberate, a ploy to distract you, con you into staying, make you less prone to saying what you want to say, but you press anyway, even though he’s making you want to lean forward and endlessly kiss the smirk off his mouth.

   “I just think, I don’t know… you’re not seeing anyone else, right?”

   “’Course not, why, you got other plans after this?” He grins again. You roll your eyes. He makes it so hard sometimes.

    “Steve,” you whine, “I’m so serious right now.”

    “Okay, okay. No, you’re the only one for me.” He means it. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever heard. “Are you seeing anyone else?” He asks you like it’s the easiest question in the world for him to ask but honestly he’s shitting his pants a little. He’s not sure what’d he say if you said yes, I am, and I think we should end this, which is where he’s assuming the conversation is going. You’ve got we shouldn’t do this anymore written all over you in his eyes and he’s steeling himself for the heartbreak.

     “Does it look like I am?”

     “Does it look like I am?” He repeats back, and he reaches for your hand in that too intimate way of his, takes it all careful and slow. “What’s this about?”

     “I just, I just think, that, you know, I’m not seeing anyone, and you’re not seeing anyone, but we’re sorta… seeing each other, yeah?” You gesture between the two of you. He nods. He’s staring at you very intensely, waiting for you to get your words out. He’s still waiting for you to say you think this whole thing has been a very bad mistake, a miscalculated judgement on your part, you should go back to the way things were, so he’s not expecting what comes out of you next. “Shouldn’t we be, like, official, then?”

     And instead of throwing up all the ways he so badly would love for that to happen, he chokes out, because he’s stupid and speechless, “Official?” And the way he says it, like it’s a curse when it’s only his disbelief that you’d want that with him after all this time, makes you immediately go into panic mode.

    He quite literally sees the way you lose any sense of confidence in your question and he immediately tries to take it back as you stand from his side and start trying to force your words back in your mouth, too. “Fuck, forget I said anything,” you mumble, spying your shoes shoved under his desk where you’d comfortably kicked them off. You hasten to put them on as Steve scrambles up from the bed and starts dressing, matching your frantic speed.

    “Hey, wait, that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that-“

     “It’s fine, Steve, I get it, I totally do, this isn’t that for you, it’s fine-“

      “It is, it is-“ but you’re not hearing him, your mind is already elsewhere. It’s in your own bed in the quiet, alone with your thoughts and not with him, mercifully not with him. You need this one mercy, “I’ll drive you home, babe, c’mon, I’ll explain everything, please-“

    “I got it, it’s fine, I’m fine, you don’t have to explain, okay? I got it,” and you don’t just walk out of his house and down the block to yours, you absolutely flee. You take Steve’s heart with you.

      He’s pacing the floor behind the register at Family Video three days and three shifts later, practically clawing at the walls of the place, and Robin is pulling her hair out at the sight of him in distress this way.

     “What did you do?” She finally breaks, flipping her magazine shut.

      “What? How do you know it was me?” He stops pacing. He hadn’t even noticed he was doing it.

       “You’ve had three shifts and she hasn’t visited one single time. She always visits. And I know I didn’t do anything wrong, because I never do anything wrong, so, what’d you do?” Robin places her hand under his chin and stares at him expectantly.

      He huffs, his hands on hips. “Maybe she did something, Robin, did you ever think of that?”

     “Definitely not,” Robin retorts, waiting for Steve to be serious.

      He deflates. “Okay, it was me.”

      “I know that, now continue.”

      “We were, you know,” he tilts his head down and raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes.

     “Having sex, sure,” Robin bobs her head. A customer in the nearest aisle frowns and shuffles toward a different section further away from the two of them.

     Steve shushes her. “I wasn’t trying to say it so loud.”

    “Having sex,” Robin repeats, louder this time, not bothering to fight back a laugh at Steve’s exasperated expression, “continue.”

      “Well, after that, she started asking if, if I was seeing anyone, which of course I’m not, because, you know, I’m into her, obviously, so I told her I wasn’t, and she said she wasn’t, so she said maybe we should be official.” Steve hesitates to say the rest of what happened. He still can’t believe all he could do when you said the words was repeat them back to you with that stupid look on his face instead of giving you the biggest, loudest declaration of love in a big, messy, pathetic, devoted way, the way he pictures himself when it comes to you, messy and pathetic and devoted, and he replays that moment back to himself all day long, thinking of everything else he could’ve said to make you understand.

    “That’s what you want, isn’t it? She’s all you talk about all day long, you want to be with her, don’t you?”

    “Of course I do!” He snaps, dragging a hand across his face. “But when she said it I just couldn’t get the words out and she got, she got so sad and she left without me being able to explain anything and she hasn’t answered the phone which, yes, I’ve been calling, and I don’t know how to do this.” He’d never been good at school but he knew he’d get a Grade A in Pitiful.

    “Do what? Tell a girl you love her? You’ve been in relationships before, Steve.”

    “I know, but…” he sighs. “I’m different now, like, it’s not as easy anymore, for me, and I- I don’t want her to get hurt, and I don’t want to get hurt, it’s like, everything used to be my fault, and I wasn’t as good as I could have been, and I don’t want to break anything, I don’t want it to get fucked up, because it’ll be my fault, and I can’t do that again. Not to her.” He swallows, the words harder to come by than he would care to admit. “I’m a little… I’m a little in love with her, I think.” This is said quietly. It frightens him to say it out loud. He’s gone over it in his head, those words, so few of them, but they say so much, and it’s scary. He hasn’t said them to someone in years. The last time he did he got so brutally hurt he thought he’d never recover. But he had. So why was it still so scary?

    “A little bit?” Robin teases, but it’s all love for him, truly.

    “Alright, a lot in love,” he concedes. He wants to get used to saying it. He wants to say it to you. For real. Loudly. “I still don’t know how to do this, though. Not anymore.”

   “Come on!” Robin gets up from her stool and places her hands on his shoulders. “You’re supposed to be Steve Harrington. You were using those…” she pauses for a beat and then, “charms,” the word is said with the smallest hint of sarcasm but she persists nonetheless, “on tons of girls in high school and at Scoops! Now whip them out again for our very nice friend that you sometimes go to town with!”

   “When did any of those charms,” he says it with a matching sarcastic tone, “work aside from when I was sixteen and an idiot?”

   “You might not be sixteen anymore but you’re still an idiot, if that helps.”

    “It doesn’t but thank you for the encouragement.”

    “I’m just saying!” She exclaims, throwing her hands up and returning back to her seat. “Putting yourself out there is always gonna be scary, but you can’t let that stop you. You’d actually be an idiot if you let that stop you. Are you just never gonna see her again? No, because you’d go insane. It’s not like what you did was all that bad anyway.”

    “You really think so?” He perks up a bit, needing that confirmation that he isn’t a totally awful and irredeemable person. It’s easy for him to fall headfirst into that spiral of thinking. It was a trap set with the most accessible, perfect bait and he somehow always found himself walking straight into it without stopping to think if he was being fair to himself.

    “You’ve both been in bad spots, you reacted the way you did and she reacted the way she did out of what was most likely panic and embarrassment. She’s definitely not even mad at you. Probably just, again, embarrassed. If you explain I think it’ll all be okay, Steve, I swear.” Robin can’t take much more of this conversation circling around, as much as she loves Steve and wants to be there for him, she would love him even more if he acted on his feelings and allowed himself some happiness for once.  “So do you think you can you, like, maybe go tell her so she can keep visiting us at work? I need more company than just you and Keith and these customers with no taste,” she complains, glaring at the closed door that hides Keith, in all his absolute glory. The customer from before hears her comment and storms out. Robin rolls her eyes.

    “Right, yeah, tell her I love her, tell my best friend I love her,” he frowns, nerves creeping up the back of his neck. “Maybe you could just call her first and ask-“

     “Steve! I am not meddling in your love life like that when you already know everything there is to know!” She throws her magazine at him. “She said she wants to be with you, go be with her!”

    “Alright, alright!” He waves his hands dismissively. He begins to pace again, this time his eyes held to the clock. Robin groans. There’s still three hours left of their shift.

     You’re in your room wallowing, or doing what’d you call attempting not to wallow but failing at it miserably. You haven’t touched a single page of your book, mostly content to just listen to sad records and more or less stare at the wall. It was stupid, you knew, to behave in such a way over some guy. But it didn’t feel like some guy. It was Steve, after all. It all felt deeper than just some guy. You two had been through a lot together, more than most people have been, and if you’d just ruined your friendship with someone you always felt safe, felt at home with, over feelings you couldn’t control and probably would be better off not having, you were going to need some serious therapy.

     It probably was silly of the two of you to start this thing up anyway, you reason, fighting back your urge to do any further crying into a pillow. You try to focus on painting your nails a nice shade of dark blue but it reminds you of Steve’s old Scoops uniform and of that night (and all that nights that followed) so you stop in the middle of your second thumb and grab nail polish remover and start scrubbing away at your finished right hand.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you mutter, the cotton ball in your hand soaked through with blue and your nails discolored and muddy. “I am ridiculous,” you say to yourself, shaking off your wet hand. Your room is filled with the smell of acetone and disappointment. You think about lighting a candle when your doorbell rings. You debate answering it before it rings again. And then again. And again, more frenzied this time.

    You open the door to a distressed Steve. His cheeks are red and he’s breathing like he can’t anymore. He’s not the multi-star athlete he was in high school, he realizes in this moment. “Did you- did you just run here from work?” You ask him, but he’s already too close to you, not answering your question, gazing at you because simply looking isn’t enough and has never been enough. He is gazing. He is flush with adoration. It’s hard not to bloom under that radiance. He makes you want to forget everything and go back to plush lips on hot skin and the quiet contentment that came alongside being with him in those first few months. You back up a little into your doorway but he steps up to you, following your steps. “Where’s your car-“

    “Forget that for a sec,” he says, and you stop talking out of surprise. “Just, just tell me if we do this it’ll be okay, and we won’t be terrible for each other, and we’ll be good,” because he needs to hear it, even if it’s ridiculous and he’s jinxing it before it’s begun he needs to know you’re right there with him. “Like, just tell me it can be easy this once. If you broke my heart I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. ‘Cause I love you. I do. And I want this.” And you get it. He’s letting you get it. He’s letting you all the way in. You realize, flustered and basking in it, that he’s the first one to say those words. That you hadn’t even said them when you posed your first question. But he’s saying them out loud and it’s brilliant and beautiful. He is beautiful.

    It makes you want to weep, the love that swells here, out in the open. “Fuck, Steve, what type of girl do you think I am, breaking the heart of the guy I’ve been in love with since he started sneaking into my bedroom?” He smiles. He glows. It’s so beautifully Steve. Maybe it can be easy.

    When he kisses you, he proves it: the ease, the tranquility. He is fervent and burning. Everything is urgent with Steve. Especially kissing. He captures every bit of you immediately. His touch is light when he urges you out of your doorway and into your living room so he can shut your front door and quit giving the neighbors what he’s sure is the show of a lifetime. It is for him, at least.

[obsessedwrhys]

THE PAIN OF PRETENDING

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Where your relationship with Abby is hidden because of your religious parents. Heartbreaking angst, some fluff, mention of intimacy but no doing it, religious things (reader's religion is not specified dw), homophobia, reader has religious trauma (only real ones know 😔), this could be triggering for some, reader has mommy issues/ is a mommy's girl, reader will go through character growth (whoop whoop!!). reader is fem!!!

ᯓ★

How you found yourself curled up on the sofa was perpetual. Same frown, same feeling. It just seems like the cycle never ends. You wonder how many more days can you tolerate this pattern of lifestyle.

This lifestyle of living in fear.

Soon you snap out of your worries once you hear the door open. The person you've been waiting for finally coming in.

"Hey babe" Your girlfriend, Abby flashes you a sweet smile. You don't say anything but watch as she puts away her bag, then taking off the rest of her equipments and placing it on the table.

"How did it go with your parents?" She asks. The very topic you were hoping she would have forgotten about after a day of patrol.

"... oh... you know..." You chuckle anxiously but almost instantly she knew something was off by your tone. She's dated you long enough to know when you're tensed.

She approaches you and every step she took was making you even more nervous. Once she was close enough, she kneels down in front of you with her hand placed gently on your lap. Her palm grasping your thigh.

"You did talk to them right? About us?" She asks, the way she's talking so softly to you was making the guilt swallowing you whole.

Because of that, you chose to stay quiet.

Seeing your lack of an answer, she sighs with her other hand pinching the bridge of her nose. Almost like an attempt to convince herself to be patient with you.

"Did you or did you not?" She looks up at you and your hands couldn't help but scratch at each other due to the nerves getting to you.

"... I didn't..." You finally said. She looks at you, a mix of disappointment and empathy on her face.

Maybe if this was the first time she'd forgive you.

But it's been a year that you've been trying to come out to your parents.

It's like everytime you gain the courage to confront them about it. Their faces always made you feel so small.

"You promised me you would (Y/N)..." She said and you could tell from her reaction that she was also getting tired of this.

Tired of having to pretend.

Pretending like she doesn't wanna kiss you in public.

To hold you.

To show everyone that you're hers and she's yours.

Yet she can only be known as your friend.

"I know... but they were just so happy about reaching the goal of the fundraiser and I didn't want to ruin that moment for them"

"What about you? Do you not want to be happy??"

"That's different"

"How is that different? Are you happy constantly having to deal with your parents setting you up with guys you don't even like? Or do you actually like that shit??"

"Of course not!!"

"Then just tell them!"

"It's not that fucking easy Abby! They have people that look up to their teachings. Do you have any idea the amount of damage I could do to their lifetime of work?"

"We live in a world with flesh eating zombies. I'm sure they'll survive having their reputation tainted for having a gay daughter" She gets up and you stare at her standing form. Somehow her perspective of the situation made you feel better.

You look down at your pendant, the one your parents had gifted you since you were a child. You still remember the very words they've swore to you, to always have your soul be on the right path in life.

"I'm sorry" You apologised and she turns to look at you. It pained her to see yourself looking like a wounded dog. She let's out a defeated sigh while she reaches to rub both your arms soothingly.

"Let's deal with this tomorrow... hm?" She then leaned in to nuzzle her face into the crook of your neck as she slowly pushes you down on the sofa.

You didn't notice you were smiling when Abby made herself comfortable on top of you. Her arms wrapped securely around your waist and you couldn't resist but run your fingers across her biceps. She hums at the delicacy of your touch.

"I'm so sorry..." You muttered.

"Tomorrow... please..." She lifts up her head and got inches closer to you until she's kissing you on the lips.

-

Just like that, the next day came. Since you had nothing to do that day, you decided to spend some time with Abby. Which is how you found yourself playing at the field inside the headquarters. You laughed as you took the frisbee from Alice's mouth before throwing it again. Abby was simply sitting on the grass a feet away, her face full of adoration as she watches you play.

Just seeing you smile was enough to brighten up her mood.

The feeling always felt so magical.

"Wowow— calm down girl" You chuckled when Alice nearly knocked you off balance when asking for more head pats. After giving her her deserved pats, you threw the frisbee and she ran after it without hesitation.

You watched her go with a smile on your face and soon your eyes trailed to where Abby is rested but you've already caught her staring first. You had to admit, you felt both embarrassed and cocky when you saw the way she was looking at you.

"Is my hair bad or something?" You asked but she simply tilt her head with a humoured smirk.

"Your hair can be a total mess and you'd still look like a model on the cover of a magazine" She said and her flattery made you snort.

"Liar"

"Oh? You want me to prove it to you?" She chuckles mischievously as she began approaching you and the sight of her coming after you made your first instincts to run.

"ATTACK HER ALICE!!" You ordered but Alice was too busy chewing on the toy to even care.

Damn dog.

"STOP IT ABBY!!"

"C'mere!"

Soon you found yourself cornered and you let out an annoyed whine while she couldn't help but laugh at your dismay. Once you were trapped, she stepped closer to shorten the distance between you two.

Eventually the pout on your face was gone the second she enveloped you in her arms, you chuckled uncontrollably at the touch of her lips smooching your collarbone slowly up to your jaw. You smiled when she gently grabbed you by the chin to have you face her.

"I don't think I say this enough but I love you. I mean it" She caresses your cheek and you didn't know how to respond but to kiss her.

It was a gentle kiss at first, tender and tentative, as if she was treating you like you were fragile glass. But soon the sweetness of the kiss transcended to something desperate. Her hand moving down to your waist to pull you closer than you were. Her forceful act made you yelp as your hands fell to the back of her neck.

"Fuck..." She sighs, her eyes half lidded from the heat of the moment.

"Are you sure she's out here?" What felt like a thunder struck. You immediately part away from Abby's grip when the sound of your mother's voice could be heard from afar.

"Yeah, I saw her leaving with Abs just now... Well, there she is" Nora stands with her hand on her hip as your mother's face lit up at the sight of you.

"Oh there's my sunshine!"

"Hey mom..." You greeted her back.

You were too focused on trying to act normal that you failed to realise the discomfort in Abby's eyes as she awkwardly rubs her neck, but she soon covers it up with a forced smile when your mother turned to greet her.

"And Abby! It's good to see you!"

"Haha... sure is auntie"

"Well I hope you don't mind if I steal my little sunshine from you. I need her to help me set up tonight's celebration. We managed to raise up enough resources to build our very own temple to worship. Oh! You should definitely come! Dinner will be delicious" Your mother said while waving at you to stand at her side... and you did just that. It was like she had this power over you.

You might as well be her puppet on a string.

"Sure, I don't really have anything to do" Abby responded but the smile on her face fades a bit when she turned to look at you.

Your brows were slightly narrowed as you had your head lowered. Just seconds ago you were both kissing and now she felt like a total stranger to you. But how could she blame you? You never wanted any of this.

"Oh you're such a sweet girl and a good friend to my daughter. If only you weren't so bulk you'd find yourself a fine man who'd take care of you" Your mother said and it took every muscle in Abby's body not to react to her words.

"Hm... yeah" Abby replied. Her jaw clenches as she grinds her teeth to try to ease the burn in her chest.

"Well let's go, we have a lot to prepare" Your mother shoos you and you shoot Abby an apologetic look before getting dragged away.

The moment you were gone, she let's out a sigh while running her hands across her face and then letting it rest there. Her eyes were completely shut in order to put her entire focus on not being upset at you or anyone.

"You cool?" Nora spoke up but Abby didn't bother looking at her.

"Uh-huh" Abby replied with her voice muffled from her hands covering her face.

-

It was soon the night of the celebration. Pretty much everyone was invited to it. You were dressed formally and forced to greet every guest. It just seems like to your parents that having a child also means having a servant. You were greeting people until someone caught your eye.

A wave of relief washed over you when you saw Abby approaching you and also being the last guest you'll have to say hi to for the night. She smiles when she sees your face finally easing up at the sight of her.

"Tired of playing the perfect daughter?" She jokes and you smack her playfully on the chest.

"Shut up.." You said and just as she's gonna wrap her hands around your waist. You stepped back, nodding at the crowd not far away.

It's not that anyone really cared if someone was gay.

It was more like if YOU were gay.

Because you can bet your ass that they'll come running to your parents to spread the hot gossip. It's like they have everyone as their pal and gals here.

"Right... can you show me where the food is? I'm starving" She said.

Cue to the both of you now in the kitchen where you're standing with your plate in hand. This might be the only time you get some privacy together.

"Mmm~" Abby hums as she happily ate the food. You chuckled when you saw how much she was enjoying herself.

"I'm starting to think you came to the celebration for the food"

"Isn't that the point of celebrations? To celebrate?" She looks at you while still munching on the chicken meat. You shake your head with a laugh.

"I forgot to say, your parents really made you look like eye candy" She said pointing out the dress you had on you. You look away feeling a bit embarrassed. This wasn't really your style but you didn't have much of a say in it.

"They're still trying to find me a 'boyfriend' so it's expected" You said as you began stabbing at your chicken with the fork. Abby notices and she had to admit it was painful to hear those words from your mouth. As a matter of fact, it was beginning to make her feel uneasy.

"But... I'm your boyfriend right?" She said and you laughed thinking she was joking but when you looked up and saw the seriousness in her eyes. The smile on your face dropped instantly.

"Oh... of course. This is what they want, not me. To be honest I really want to sneak off to my room right now" You said but you knew the lecture that would come if you did.

It's either gonna be words like "You're the host's daughter so go be a host!" Or "Why are you hiding in your room instead of socialising with people!" Honestly you can't choose.

"Then let's go... there's nobody stopping you" She said and you could see the mischief in her eyes. Guilty enough you grinned.

"Fine but if we get caught I'm gonna jump out the window"

-

Now you're in your room, the two of you laying down as you decided to cuddle. Honestly at this point you might fall asleep from how relaxing it felt. Your lips formed a smile when you could feel Abby running her hands through your hair or just touching it in general.

"You're gorgeous..." She uttered and from her tone you can hear the genuine love she had for you. If you asked her to take on a whole pack of infected she'll literally do it.

She'll do anything for you and yet...

You can't even do the same.

You can't even tell your parents that you're in love with her...

You're too much of a pussy to do it.

"You alright?" Abby rubs her thumb on your hand that you didn't realise was clenched into a fist. You quickly loosen your grip once you did.

"Sorry I was thinking" You said.

"About?" She looks at you, waiting for your answer that took you a while to give to her.

"I just feel awful that I keep leaving you in the dark with things... I'm too afraid of how my parents will react if I told them I was dating a girl" You said, nuzzling closer into her embrace. She hums in acknowledgement as she cups the side of your face.

"I'm pretty sure they'll freak out more about the fact I'm so muscular. Your dad can't even look me in the eye"

"I..." You stare at her, speechless.

She must have taken what your mother said to heart.

Fuck if you didn't realise you were hurting her, you were hurting her even more by letting this go on.

"I'm so sorry Abs"

"Shhh... it doesn't matter. I'll endure all of this, anything it takes to finally have my happy ending with you" She smiles softly down at you.

You really don't deserve her...

Suddenly there's a knock on the door and the sound itself was enough to have you both jump out of your bed in a hurry. Quickly you checked your reflection on the mirror to fix your appearance while Abby went to find something to busy herself with. The knock on the door continues, growing louder each time until you finally open it, finding your father at the door.

"Hey dad" You said, forcing the most genuine smile you could.

He doesn't say anything but stare at Abby who's back is turned to you, her focus on the collection of toys you've collected. He stared at her for an unsettling long 10 seconds before looking back at you, a faint smile on his face.

"Your mother and I want you to meet someone" He said and you tilt your head.

"Oh? Uh okay..." You responded and it took every strength in your body not to turn around to look at Abby as you're forced to leave your room.

Alone in your bedroom, Abby let out a long sigh as she rests both her palms on the table. Her eyes shut close after the close call. Moments like these seem to never get old.

It always leaves her feeling tensed each time.

After a minute, she was done calming herself down, she hopped herself off the table. But before she left, she walked near the window that had a whole view of the backyard. The same unsettling feeling she had earlier in the kitchen slowly crawled it's way back into her chest as she caught glimpses of you talking to a boy, both of your parents standing by your sides.

It wasn't the fact that you talking to a boy was irritating her, but the sight of you smiling and LAUGHING. That was what settled the score.

Without even realising, she began breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Is she childish for feeling like this? Being jealous? She can't even flirt with you in public and this guy who you just knew for a minute is now trying to hook up with you, in front of your fucking parents!!

Fed up and needing to get away from all of this, she left your room while making sure to slam the door shut. Several guests looking at her in concern when she made her way through.

-

After what felt like hours of chatting with people, you began to feel your face hurt from the constant talking and smiling. So the second the party was over, you were glad to have the privilege to change back into your normal clothes. To be honest the itch of the dress was killing you the entire night.

You laid on your bed and it was then you realised you haven't seen Abby ever since. Maybe she left early? Even if she did, you still felt bad for leaving her at that state. She must have felt so alone. You hurt just by the thought of it so you grabbed your stuff, being as quiet as possible when sneaking out.

It's not your first time sneaking out so it wasn't that hard.

After all, strict parents always raised the most rebellious kids.

-

By the time you were done sneaking past several people and making it to Abby's room, you knocked it a few times and waited for her to answer but she doesn't. Confused, you knocked again but before your fist could make contact with the door. It opened. You froze as you looked to see Abby staring at you, her brows were narrowed and the way she glared at you, you could tell she was pissed off.

It actually made you feel upset.

You don't know exactly what you did wrong but you just knew that you did.

That was until you noticed the dried tears in the corner of her eyes.

"Have you been—?" You hesitantly point at her eyes and for a glimpse second, her eyes widened but she was quick to rub her eye and cover it up.

"It's an itch.... What the hell are you doing here?" She said, quickly changing the topic.

"I wanted to see you" You smiled a bit, not sure if this is even the right time to act all affectionate and sweet.

"Oh..." Her tone was almost like she was mocking you. She then looked down the hallway left and right before letting you in.

While Abby closed the door, you felt uncomfortable being in the room. It wasn't the same comfort you would feel after a whole day of pretending to be the perfect daughter. Somehow it just drained you the very same. You looked at Abby when you heard her sit down on her bed, not caring the least about your presence.

Yeah there's definitely something going on.

And you're not the type to beat around the bush for it.

"Did I do something wrong?" You asked, straight to the point. She doesn't look up at you but her grip around her book tightened vaguely.

"I don't know. Did you?" She asks.

Oh great... she's in her mood again...

"If you're mad at me for leaving you in my room. I'm sorry... but that's the reason why I'm here, to make it up to you" You looked at her, hoping she would give you the basic respect of LOOKING at you when talking.

"Mhm..." She responded.

Fuck... it feels like your head is about to explode.

"Can you fucking talk to me instead of doing that whole shit? I fucking hate it when you do that"

"Then don't talk to me" She looks at you, finally.

You stare back at her with a look of disbelief before letting out a scoff as you roll your eyes.

"The door's that way" She pointed and that was the last straw.

"Don't— Don't you fucking treat me like that!" You raised your voice and she chuckles amusingly to herself.

"What? Did your boyfriend at the party treat you better?" She said, her words left you startled.

"What the fuck?" You blurted out.

Is that what she's so pissed about?

"Is that what you're mad at me for?" Suddenly it was like a whole new rage washed over your face. It didn't make it better with a storm brewing just outside.

"He's my FUCKING COUSIN YOU IGNORANT PIECE OF SHIT!! HE TRAVELLED ALL THE WAY FROM SPOKANE TO GET HERE!!" You yelled that you could feel your face burn up completely.

"And you expect me to just take your word for it?" She got up, standing in front of you.

"I'm starting to think you don't want to come out!! You love the attention don't you?!! DO YOU EVEN LOVE ME?!! Or am I just one of your experiments??"

"Of course I do!! I FUCKING LOVE YOU!!"

"But??? I fucking yearn for you (Y/N)!! Every fucking second I'm with you in public. I can't even hold you or kiss you!! Do you know how much it sucks being treated like I'm nothing to you?!!" She said and you could see the tears pour out of her eyes.

"If you love me then why do you still let this shit go on? Are you more scared of losing your image or me? You pick" She returned to her bed, her head lowered as she doesn't want you to look at her crying.

You stare at her, unable to make up the right mind. Suddenly a thunder struck and rain began to pour down heavily. You sigh.

There's no way that a bunch of infected is easier dealt with than this right now.

Your mom's gonna kill you...

"...I'll talk to them tomorrow" You said and she looks at you. Honestly now you're just standing in the middle of the room not sure whether if you should join her in bed after that heated argument.

"C'mere" She said, her arms spread and you stare at her... before completely breaking into tears. You walk over to her which she doesn't waste a second to hold you close.

You placed kisses on her cheek as you muttered the word 'sorry' over and over again. Even when she shakes her head telling you it's fine, you simply ignored her and placed your head on top of hers as you continued on apologising.

Not just for this moment now but for every other time you've made broken promises to her.

-

It was the next day, all the crying last night left you completely numb. You've never felt like such a piece of shit before. Seeing how Abby is still asleep, you decided not to wake her up and just go wash yourself up. Once you were done, you grabbed your stuff and tried to be as quiet as possible when leaving.

Your parents usually volunteer at the stadium's canteen early in the morning so there's no denying that they're already there. Watching your steps as you got down the stairs, you turned a few corners and walked a few more before making it there.

"Hey (Y/N)!" Manny greeted you and you greeted him back.

"You've seen my parents?"

"Yup, they're just in there" He pointed and you made sure to thank him before going ahead. When entering the backdoor to the stall, you could see them busy restocking the supplies.

The moment they spot you, you could tell they were upset.

"Where were you?!! You weren't in your room in the morning!!" Your mother expressed her concern.

"I wanted to go gun training" You lied so naturally that it caught you by surprise. You sucked in both your lips to try to stop yourself from doing so.

"Nonsense, you're a girl, that's a man's job" Your mother said while your father carried the boxes to the table. You took a deep breath.

"Sorry I lied... I was at Abby's" The two perked up at the mention of Abby's name.

"Abby's? What were you doing there?" They suddenly exchanged glances. It's almost too obvious that the two doesn't quite like her too much. Then your father spoke up right after your mother.

"No offense darling but Abby's a rebellious girl and we don't want you following in her footsteps—"

"We kissed" You said, an unmoved expression on your face.

For a second you had thought the two were frozen in time at your words but suddenly your mother laughs.

"Are you messing with us?" She asked but you could see from her gaze she was threatening you to shut up.

For some reason you didn't really care anymore.

"We also fucked... and I really liked it" You said as you watched for their reactions. You knew that deep down that they'll never accept you for the way you are but it's fine. They never really did even when you weren't yourself.

Your mother laughs again but this time louder, almost like she's losing it. Your father who didn't know how to react laughed along to her but his wary eyes weren't in his favour.

"I thought from the lessons our uncle taught you you'd stop having these thoughts! I knew I shouldn't have let you read those comics!" She said with a smile, almost like she's forcing herself to be happy, to stay calm.

"It didn't help. I lied saying it did because I didn't want to go back there. They treated me weird. They made me feel like I didn't belong anywhere, that I was a mistake, that I should have hated myself for having these thoughts" You then smiled, returning the same emotion your mother is feeling.

"But truthfully I love girls"

SLAP

Your eyes widened after feeling your mother slap you, it happened so fast if it werent for the burning numbness on your cheek you didn't think it even happened. You slowly turn to look at your mother who's eyes are red.

"Don't you fucking say that! You're a girl! You were born to marry a man!" She said but you shrug. Your action made her tilt her head in disbelief.

"I love Abby, she's a woman not a man. If you don't like that then that's your problem" With nothing more to prove, you decided to leave but stopped yourself when you were close to the door.

"Oh and... it had nothing to do with the comics. I've always felt this way" You added with your back turned to her. The second you were out in the canteen you couldn't help but stop for a second to catch your breath.

It actually felt like you were breathing right for the first time ever.

It felt so good.

You felt so weightless.

"(Y/N)? You okay?" You look up ahead to see Abby. Her hair a bit messy from just waking up but you could tell she just smoothed it over to make it work.

"I'm so fucking great" You approached her and threw your arms around her but she was fast to observe the hand print on your face. Her face clearly full of worry.

"Who did this to you?" Her tone clearly indicating she's not gonna let this slide.

"It's my mom. I just came out to them" You smiled and she looked at you like you were kidding.

"Without me? I thought you'd want me to support you—?"

"Its fine— but you can support me now. I'm starving" You smiled and seeing how overjoyed you are, she couldn't help but let you have your moment. Not wanting to disrupt this euphoric memory of yours.

"Alright baby" She said before gently kissing you on the lips and you smiled when kissing her back. An obstacle in your life finally dealt with.

Tags:

@bready101

[loveyni]

hii can i req for terms of endearment that bnd would call their s/o? ><

yes of course ~~ sorry i got to this ask vv late!! thank u for ur patience my love <333 hope i didn’t disappoint! this is written w fem!reader in mind, but some are gender neutral ^^

terms of endearment w/ bonedo

sungho calls you by (your name) and dear. your name itself is a term endearment for sungho. often there are times when he will just call out for you repeatedly with nothing else to add just because he likes to say it so much. as for dear, it’s simply what you are to him: the most precious person in his life.

alt. names: babe, princess, pumpkin

our riwoo is a bit traditional when using pet names, his most used being honey and sweetie. he addresses you like one would for their spouse of 30+ years; proof of a bond that will last long beyond your last breaths. everyone always points out how envious they are of your relationship. ><

alt. names: dear, love, my love, sweetheart

myungjae is absolutely shameless when it comes to loving you; of which includes calling you various pet names. at his point, he has called you every one under the sun (although he WILL whine if you call him bro). however, he does admit that his favorite to use + receive is baby. doubts about jaehyun’s love for you are rare because he always calls out for you soso sweetly, eye smile and all.

alt names: jagi, yeobo, wifey

now our resident romantic... han taesan has pretty girl, darling and doll written all over him. these are mainly attributed to how striking (beautiful) he finds you. it’s sickening—the slight mischief laced in his voice whenever he calls for you. it’s almost like he understands what effects his words have on you and chooses to torture you on purpose (naughty, naughty)!!

alt. names: baby, jagi, bunny

leehan is particular when it comes to pet names. he wants to be special so he calls you (a loving name based off of one of your features), angel, and pretty. he will even go as far as telling you not to let other people call you these things. he wants to be the only one (okay gatekeeper!!…). he also jumps at the chance to learn terms of endearment in your native language.

alt. names: mi amor, bub, cutie

given the innate boyish charm that woonhak possesses, he gets a bit more playful with his approaches. he isn’t afraid to pull out bro or loser (but never in a hurtful way)… and don’t let him EVER hear about pookie, because i fear you’ll never hear the end of it from him. but when unhak is feeling more #romantic, he will pull out babe.

alt names: my girl, jagi, shawty… (smh)

[flying-cat]

If Link Click ends with Lu Guang managing to save Cheng Xiaoshi by going back in time again somehow (even though he said this was his last chance) and just never meeting him at all so that Cheng Xiaoshi never knows him and never takes the bullet for him I'm Going To Run Myself Over With A Car

[leviscolwill]

meet me in the afterglow ★

pairing: ex!jamal musiala x reader

req: 33 (nervous kisses) + 23 (sitting on their lap) & 1 (‘can i kiss you?’) w jamal for miss @brocedes

note: putting you out of your jamal drought, hope it meets ur expectations my love xx 🫶🏻

now playing afterglow by taylor swift...

you felt your heart tighten at the three knocks on your door. you already knew who was behind it, but you were still caught in a daze when your eyes met. was he always this tall? did his brown eyes always have this magnetic energy to them?

his voice brought you out of your thoughts.

"excuse me? didn't hear you." lies. you were too busy with your own thoughts to even make sense of his words.

"can i get in?"

you felt the heat rush to your face in embarrassment at his words, "oh. of course." thankfully, jamal only chuckled at your antics, he knew you were in a world of your own oftentimes.

you subconsciously smiled when jamal made himself at home, and took a seat on your sofa. you missed the domesticity of your relationship and having him around, even when your days together were sometimes only filled with board games and movies. that's what you loved most, the normality of it all, in the midst of jamal uncommon lifestyle.

"do you want to drink anything?" it was supposed to take five seconds: jamal coming over, picking up the stuff he left at yours, and then he's gone as fast as possible. but it seemed like none of you wanted to let go just yet, even if the breakup was a mutual decision.

"wait, can we have a talk before..." you didn't know what the 'before' meant, before you grab me water? before we end this for good?

you sat down next to him, careful to leave a reasonable distance between the two of you. jamal seemed more nervous than you if that was possible, fidgeting with the hem of his oversized hoodie, his knee constantly bouncing.

you laid your hand on it to stop him, giving him a heartwarming smile, the kind of smile he missed everytime he was away from you.

you were afraid you crossed a line with your gesture, but before you could pull away jamal's hand was on your cheek, stroking your hair.

you got closer to him without even noticing, your eyes scanning his face as to not forget any part of him.

"can i kiss you?" your voice wasn't louder than a whisper, but it didn't matter. jamal closed the gap between you two.

he pressed his lips on yours in a small kiss at first, tentative. he pulled away from you quickly, reading your face, making sure it showed no trace of hesitation.

you were the one to bring the two of you together once again. this time, he kissed you the way he wanted to for the past month he spent without you, like he was scared he would lose you once again if he let go for one second. one of his hand rested on your waist, while the other was on your cheek, desperate to bring you even closer if that was even possible.

jamal's hands pushed you on his lap, his touch on the small of your back feeling lighting up a fire in you. your fingers met at the back of his neck, absentmindedly tracing patterns.

once he pulled back, you smiled looking at his lipstick stained lips, swollen from the attention you gave them.

jamal took the opportunity to press quick kisses on your smile, no words needed between you two to show your caring for each other.

[th3cadav3r]

I wanna try to do smth again with the hurt/comfort angst again, but it's different. Keep the Anya x Male/GN reader, but it's after Jimmy did... y'know. Anya shares a bed with a reader to feel safer, considering the reader and Anya are close ever since the Tulpar's launch. It leads to a confession of feelings and ends with cuddles. However, it only happens when Anya wakes up from a night terror in the middle of the night.

You Alright?

Anya X Male Reader

summary: You hear your coworker Anya crying in her room due to a night terror. You try your best comfort her but in the process you learn something very unexpected

content: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, mentions of SA, romantic confessions, happy ending

author’s note: Thanks for requesting again! I hope you enjoy this one too!(I also hope this one does better than the last Anya X Male Reader fic cuz uhhh it kinda flopped)

For some reason, you just could not fall asleep tonight. You stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, eyes fixated on nothing in particular. Your bed wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was usually warm and soft enough to have you falling asleep in only a matter of minutes. Not this time though, because for some strange reason you just couldn’t close your eyes long enough to drift off. So you wait in a stagnant silence that is shortly interrupted by what sounds like crying.

You pause for a moment, making sure that the noise wasn’t just your sleep-deprived brain playing a trick on you. But sure enough, you do indeed hear someone crying softly. You sit up, shivering as the blanket slips off of your body and you make your way over to your door. The sound was definitely coming from the other side of the wall. Anya’s Room

You slowly walk up to it and hesitate before knocking on it. The crying stops immediately, followed by an eerie silence.

Your hand slowly slides the unlocked door to the side and you peek your head into her room. “Anya?” You whisper while looking around, trying to find her in the dark.

Your eyes finally land on her. Anya stares right back at you, wide eyed and unblinking. Her body trembles as she clutches onto a pillow that she placed in front of her, almost like a shield. Though, she becomes noticeably less tense when she realises that it’s you standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” you speak calmly yet still concerned, “you alright?”

You step into her room slowly, making your way towards where she was huddled. But she tenses up again, making you stop dead in your tracks.

“Sorry, I—” you apologise frantically while taking a step back, “—I heard you crying and wanted to make sure that you’re, y’know, okay”

She relaxes again, sighing deeply as her eyes fixate on you. They were as big and beautiful as always, though they were noticeably glossy and slightly red.

“I’m…Fine,” she muttered. “Just had a nightmare, that’s all.” She tries to force a reassuring smile, but you saw right through it. You had spent almost an entire year with her by now; you could always tell when she had something to hide.

“A nightmare hm?” You say while slowly making your way towards her again. This time she doesn’t tense up, allowing you to take a seat right next to her on the bed. “Wanna talk about it?”

Anya draws in a sharp and shaky breath, burying her face in the pillow. You hear her sniffle as she desperately tries to stifle her crying.

Your heart drops at the sight of her in pain. “Hey, it’s alright” You reach out and gently place your hand on her back. She flinches, making you retract it and keep it hovering just above where it was. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to”

She shook her head. “It’s…because of Jimmy,” she finally spoke, her voice muffled by the pillow. The way she said his name sounded like it physically hurt her to say it.

“Jimmy?” You said tilting your head to the side in confusion. He and you were never really that close. It’s not like you had anything against each other, it’s just that he seemed more reserved than the others, who opened up to you almost immediately. Still, he wasn’t a bad guy in your eyes

“The night terrors. They’re his fault,” she confessed quietly, lifting her head but still avoiding your gaze. “He did something to me”

Now you were really confused. She probably sensed that because not too long after she shakily whispers, “He…raped me”

Your eyes widen. Your heart pounds in your chest as your mind races. An intense wave of rage, sympathy, and sadness hits you all at once. You have so many questions and so much hatred in your body for that damned co-pilot that you want to release right here and now.

But you stop yourself. That wouldn’t help. She feels far worse than you do right now. The fear and hurt that she is feeling right now is something that you flying off the rails wouldn’t help.

So you embrace her, approaching her gently enough for her not to be startled or frightened. She hugs you back, clutching onto you tightly.

“Oh, Anya,” you tell her softly, not really knowing what else to say. The last thing you wanted to do was make her feel worse. “I’m so sorry”

“It’s not your fault.” Her voice trembles as she speaks.

“It’s not yours, either.” You gently caress her cheek, prompting her to look up at you. “None of this is your fault, okay?”

She nods as her eyes gaze directly into yours. Hearing you reassure her with so much care and understanding in your voice was what she desperately needed.

You held onto each other for a little while longer. “Can I sleep in your room? Just for tonight?” she asks.

“You can stay with me for as long as you want,” you respond without even thinking. You feel like you already failed to protect her and there’s no way in hell you’re going to let that happen again.

You both eventually make your way over to your room, walking down the hallway quietly to not wake the others. Before entering your room, though, you glance over at Jimmy’s room a few doors away. You huff, fighting the urge to go in there and beat him to a bloody pulp right now. You knew that right now, you need to be there for Anya. You tell yourself that you will deal with him tomorrow

“Make yourself comfortable,” you tell her. She smiles and climbs into your bed, taking the side farthest away from the door. You join her, sliding into the warm sheets and turning to your side so you can face her.

“It’ll be alright, Anya. I’ll make sure that asshole never harms you again, I promise”

“Wait–” Her pale face shifts to a look of concern. “–He can’t know that I told anyone”

“What?” You looked at her confused. “But we should report this to Curly, shouldn’t we? So he can inform the company–”

“No,” she cuts your words off. “No one else can know. Just…please don’t tell anyone. At least not now”

You don’t want to fight her on this. As much as you wish to report it to the captain and bring that bastard to justice, you try your best to understand why she’s so hesitant.

“Okay,” you reassure. “I won’t say anything. Not until you’re ready”

Her face relaxes again. She sighs, smiling softly. “Thank you. I knew you’d understand”

You feel a warmth spread throughout your chest. Out of the entire crew, she chose you. She trusted you with her secret. She loved you, and you loved her right back.

“Thank you for trusting me,” you respond.

The air between you two feels different. You’ve both changed and transformed together in just this one night. You reached an entirely new level with her–one that felt even deeper than a friendship.

You have more to say but you hold your tongue. You both feel the same about each other, there’s no denying that; you just want to wait for a better time to actually say it outloud

“We should probably get some rest,” you gently suggest.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she responds. She snuggles in closer to you, resting her head against your chest. She could definitely hear your racing heartbeat, but she says nothing about it. You put your arm around her protectively, drawing her in close

“Goodnight,” she whispers

“‘Night,” you whisper back, kissing the top of her head

[gfdazai]

Kissing his tears away. ♡

no cws rlly, Atsushi is having a flashback and is in a state of confusion for the first half of it. established relationship. It implies his episodes to be a repeated thing towards the end. Hurt/comfort? Wc 500ish, not edited/proofchecked. GN reader! {No pronouns or terms (other than precious) being used towards reader.}

Atsushi, who's crying after having an episode of flashbacks. He's stuck in his dorm, curled up in a closet as he mutters and pleads for whoever to stop.

You, precious, you. You stepping into his dorm, the door falling shut alarming him of your presence — taking your shoes off by the door, wanting to be polite, after all.

Atsushi doesn't want to come out of the closet, scared of what's waiting outside of it for him. He's shaking — his breathing quiet, but panicked.

He's wants to plead for forgiveness, scared of whatever punishment he's getting from the head of the orphanage, but is frozen when he hears footsteps approaching.

He puts his hands over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut, silently praying for forgiveness, when he hears a short, soft voice.

"Atsushi?"

He pauses, not sure of what to do. What if this was all a trick? He's probably imagining you, and the director will find him any moment...

He doesn't fight when you gently tug him up, or out of the closet, just apologizing and standing there, unsure of what to do. ...Should he say he's fine, when he's clearly not?... He's never been caught in this bad of an episode. He's supposed to be bright and sunny Atsushi Nakajima.

"Atsushi..." You say softly, "Can I touch you?" His eyes slowly and hesitantly open, eyes fluttering to your face — the image being slightly distorted by his tearful eyes.

His hands slowly unclench his hair, the stinging finally settling into his scalp — he hopes he didn't cause himself to bleed. Again. He nods a little, swallowing — not trusting his voice.

You smile, and God. You look so trustworthy, so... So different from the director. Of course you're not the director — how could he ever think so?... The director is gone, Atsushi is out of the orphanage. He's not there anymore... He shouldn't be having these thoughts — these memories.

You gently tug him onto the couch, your hand lovingly combing out the tangles in his messy hair. He lets you. He stiffens a little at first, but when you intertwine your fingers with his? His breathing grows a little softer.

"Would you be comfortable sharing what triggered you?" You ask, voice not pressuring him at all, but he still feels guilty for not answering automatically. He swallows, his gaze falling to the floor as he shakes his head.

"It's okay, Atsushi." You murmur, and he feels your soft, slightly warm lips pressing against the coolness of his tears. When did he start crying?... He sniffles pathetically at that.

"I'm sorry..." He mutters, hiding his face in his hands. "I'm sorry." He repeats. He doesn't know how to react, but he doesn't stop you again.

"It's okay. I'm not mad." You mumble softly, and he folds, turning and clinging to you. He hides his face in your neck and just... Cries. He cries like a broken boy — like a broken child.

You kiss his tears, kissing away the salty, memories of the past. You kiss away his scars, his scares — his past.

Please don't steal my work, nor feed it to any sort of AI. Thank you! ♡

[heywardsdoll]

“this isn’t neighbourhood watch," pope muttered under his breath as he rolled his eyes, "if anything they should start a neighbourhood watch to look out for you." he jabbed at jj, and yet the blonde boy hadn't even noticed it.

pope sighing, knocked jj's knees off his lap, scurrying forward to a cold soda that john b had brought for them. 

the drink was nice and cool in his mouth, a small bubbly drink that made him mellow out. but he still felt antsy staring at jj. and jj? jj was deadly staring ahead with his binoculars, waiting for a glimpse of ms. kathy left her house. she'd given jj a talking back and mentioned that she was going to mention to the board of a possible expulsion.

jj, the boy that he was instead of saying sorry or running off to study the way that pope did, decided that he was going to teach her a "lesson." that lesson involved egging her house, and then stealing her precious watch. it was the same watch that she used to tell jj he was late. 

it was embarrassing that pope was here with jj but sometimes he couldn't help but tail around. if anything, he had a story rehearsed if she caught them. it consisted of grabbing the boys, running away, and if they were caught....then he would have to turn into the people-pleaser he was. all that would probably come out of his mouth at that point would be, 'yes ma'am,' or 'no ma'am."

though he was nervous, john b was practically alseep, munching on the stale popcorn for their sleepover. pope saw his eyes flicker before closing again as he let out a small satisfied sigh. 

yes, their whole hang out had started with the promise of sleeping over at john b's. and yet, that had taken a sour turn. the sleepover was something that they were used to and pope had never dared to change the way things were...except that one time where he retaliated about where they should have it. pop had given him shit about messing the place and he huffed into the treehouse to complain. after all, either slept over at pope's or john b's, and jj's house seemed to be off limit. 

"i'm just saying, we should switch places. and my pop's is sick of us. he makes me do extra chores after you guys leave," pope whined, giving jj a pointed look. after all it was jj's idea that they should paint themselves blue with paint and then scare the crap out of his cousins who were staying over. what really happened was...they were caught by pope's dad and them embarrassingly hosed down in the middle of the night.

that being said, pope was called 'smurf boy,' for the rest of the week. that memory fresh in his head, he pointed at jj as if he was expecting him to say something and unlike what poe was expecting, jj seemed to cower and muttered something.

then he turned back into himself, and started looking out the window of the treehouse. john b instead was glaring pope down so hard, he felt like there was a hole taht was being borne into him. it was after that he never brought it up. the only thing that he seemed to remember very clearly was the look on jj's face when he looked at him more clearly. 

jj's face was a light pink, as his hands shook. and there was a look of sadness on his face. a look that pope had never seen on his friend. so he never ever brought up going over to jj's. frankly, he didn't remember the last time that he'd seen jj's dad outside of the small scary encounters whenever they picked up jj in the middle of the night. 

it was nights like those that had taught him that there was something wrong in that house. now he must have been staring at jj for too long because he felt a smack on his face.

it was john b, grinning. 

"fucks wrong with you? bro you are so out of it," john jeered, a playful smile on his face. pope rolled his eyes again, leaning back feeling his face heat up. john b, as ill-mannered as he was, he was insightful and when he found something he was interested in all he did was focus on that thing. currently, it was the look on pope's face when he looked at jj. 

pope sighed, running a hand over his face and finally leaned back letting his eyes rest. there was a peaceful moment before he felt someone shake him.

it was jj, "c'mon man! she's asleep," he laughed before shaking him harder. pope couldn't help but smile a little at the look on jj's face. he looked a crazed kid who was opening gifts early on chrismas. only after he looked at john b did he tone it down and shook his head. 

" it is your thing. i'll stay back and keep watch." 

"alright, dude, whatever you say. see you soon." 

john b instead seemed to having fun with it, and pointed at pope with a mocking look, "yeah," he crooned, flashlight illuminating his face as he howled, " stay safe ..." 

it was only after pope grinned, smacking john b on the side of the face did the both of them hustle down the treehouse. and it was only after both of them left that pope let out a breath he was holding in. now it was time to wait.

:3 x :3 x :3 x :3 x :3 :3 :3

“i see your true colors now.” jj jeered, laughing even harder as he mimicked the way that ms. kathy talked in class. "man, i still can't believe that's what she said to me. i was this close to tearing her lying face off," he makes a gesture, his fingers almost touching.

john b smiled before jj aggressively took a mouthful out of the cereal they had to poured out infront of the TV. scooby doo played lightly in the back, it was a goofy show but it was calming and it wasn't like john b had cable anyways. 

pope yawned as john b talked about how crazy ms. kathy looked like when she was yelling at jj. it was now where he could relax. 

finally, pope rested his head on jj's shoulder. unsurprisingly, jj let him do it, even adjusting a bit so pope could rest his face a bit better. they were in sync, always entangled in one and another, if anything jj was pope's best friend. john be seemed to smirk just a bit when pope nestled into jj's head but decided to say nothing. the death glare that pope gave john b probably had nothing to do with it. 

"listen, i wasn't scared at all. really, it felt like i was getting what i had to do. you know who was scared, this guy," jj said, gently bumping pope's head with his shoulder. pope let out a small yelp before falling back on the couch with a drowsy smile. it was nearly 3. am now as they talked. pope could barely keep up with anything that was being said. 

and even as they continued, the light conversation never bothered him, because that was where he belonged. and as he sweetly drifted away to sleep he could hear the soft laughter of his best friends.