#there are one or two i almost put on the list

[rafesangelita]

♡ deciding to take a ride on the ‘tunnel of love’ roller coaster at the annual valentine’s day fair, rafe happens to catch you before it starts, conveniently locking himself in next to you. annoyed, you tell yourself you’ll be out and away from the man once the ride is over but (un)luckily for you, it just so happens to break down, leaving you two stuck together until it’s fixed..

warnings: one sided enemies to lovers (reader is the one who can’t stand rafe lol), forced proximity, teasing, flirty banter, slight angst (just a teeny tiny bit, it’s literally almost nonexistent), light fluff

a/n: now presenting… ‘TUNNEL OF LOVE’ 🤍 my town just so happens to be having a valentine’s day fair.. maybe (hopefully) i’ll go!

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 1.4k

[7:57 PM] bestie ♡: it looks like kelce is going to take me out for v-day after all!! don’t wait for me, i’ll catch up soon, promise!

you had just bought an extra large funnel cake for you and your best friend to share when you read her text, your sugary sweet smile faltering as you took a seat at a nearby bench. “more for me, i guess..” you sighed, feeling a little bit silly at the fact that you sat here by yourself when everyone who passed you by was either in a group setting or hand in hand with someone who was most likely their significant other.

you picked at the fried goodness, not really feeling as festive as you were just two minutes ago. “yo, y/n!” you recognized the voice before you even looked up, your eyes immediately rolling as none other than rafe ‘insufferable daddy’s money’ cameron made his way over to you. ‘please let this be quick..’ you whispered under your breath, not sparing the man a single glance as he plopped down ridiculously close to you.

“what do you want, rafe?” he smiled when he heard his name roll off of your tongue, his muscular arm draping across your shoulders as his mouth dropped next to your ear. “can you at least act like you could tolerate me?” you scoffed, shrugging him off. “no, i can’t,” you finally looked at him, “because even that is too difficult to do.” he swallowed thickly, feeling slightly defeated before he went for the funnel cake that sat in your lap.

“i’m really not that bad, i’ll make you realize that soon.” rafe was also too confident and cocky for your liking— more reasons you could add to your seemingly never ending list as to why you think you two would never work out.

“i highly doubt that.” rafe was licking powdered sugar off of his fingers when you met his gaze again, your eyes flickering down to his tongue. the one thing that you couldn’t put on your list was that he wasn’t hot. anyone with eyes can tell you that rafe was insanely attractive, but of course, you’d never admit that to him out loud.. or so you thought. “you’re staring.” he smiled when he saw that your eyes stayed trained on his mouth, a smug expression taking over his features.

you blinked away, deciding you had enough chit-chat for one night. “in your dreams, ‘cameron.” rafe watched you get up from your seat, gladly taking the funnel cake you basically shoved into his hands. “why, thank you.” he took another piece, popping it into his mouth. you flashed him a fake smile before adjusting the strap of your crossbody purse. “i’ll see you around!” he called out, waving obnoxiously in your direction. “no you won’t!” you whispered to yourself, deciding to explore the fair a bit more.

little did you know conversation between you and rafe was far from over.

you walked around the fair grounds for almost fifteen more minutes before you had decided you were better off at home eating some greasy takeout and having a rom-com movie marathon in nothing but your comfy pj’s.

just as you were on your way to the exit, a flashing heart with the words ‘TUNNEL OF LOVE.. find your lover inside!’ caught your attention. deciding you’d at least inquire about it, you walked up to the ride operator and asked away. “excuse me! hi, i was just wondering what does the whole ‘find your lover inside!’ thing mean?” the woman lit up as if she had been dying to answer this question.

“so basically there’s another roller coaster coming from the other side, and once you two meet inside, the ride will stop for two minutes before coming back out to the respective entrances.” she explained. “so it’s like speed dating?” you smiled, the idea enthralling you. “yeah, that’s exactly it!” she nodded. you weighed out your options and decided a little excitement wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“i’m suprised you don’t have a line, how much is it to get on?” you took your wallet out of your purse as she replied. “if you have a full-access wristband it’s free, but if not then it’ll be five dollars exactly.” you handed over the small bill, smiling to yourself as she let you through the metal gate. “it looks like two people can fit in here—” just as you stepped in, rafe came running from the opposite direction.

“stop the ride!” he shouted, his chest rising and falling as he bent over to catch his breath. you blinked. “it’s not even on, you drama queen.” taking a seat, you were about to pull the metal bar over your lap before he shouted again. “i’ll give you fifty bucks if you let me get on with her!” you crossed your arms over your chest, not expecting the ride operator to actually let him in. “seriously?!” you gasped when he walked through, flashing you a wink.

“sorry!” she pushed the guardrail over you and rafe until it locked in place before starting the ride. “this will all be over in two minutes.” you glared at him, trying to scoot as many centimeters away from him as you could. “that’s fine with me.” he shrugged. he leaned back in the cart, red and pink flashing lights illuminating the space in which you two rolled into slowly.

rafe kept his eyes on you, watching as you avoided his gaze. “why don’t you like me? serious question..” you sighed, finally giving him your full undivided attention. you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. “what?” you acted like you didn’t hear him the first time, wracking your brain for any kind of answer. he smiled teasingly, pointing a finger at you. “i asked you why you don’t like me and you can’t even answer me!” you waved him off, facing the other way to hide the smile on your lips.

truthfully, you didn’t really know who rafe was. like just by himself as an individual. you knew that his friends were all assholes though, including the one who your best friend was willing to drop everything for. “i hate your friends,” you started, “and you are who you keep company with, sooo..” rafe cleared his throat as the roller coaster came to a stop. the inside of the ‘love tunnel’ was lit up with baby cherubs along the walls, red hearts and fairy lights adorning the interior.

“me and my friends are very different from each other.. i think you’d be surprised.” you hummed, adjusting the pendant on your necklace. “maybe..” the other roller coaster cart strolled in from the other side, the seats empty. “i guess it’s a good thing that i tagged along, since you would’ve been all by yourself if i didn’t.”

you glanced over at him, his blue eyes standing out in the pinkish lighting. “..yeah, i guess.” rafe’s head shot up as soon as the words left your mouth. “you really think so?” he scooted closer, the action making you laugh. “don’t push it.” you warned him, in which he held his hands up defensively. “okay, okay!” rafe had this smitten look on his face as if making you smile was his life’s greatest achievement.

“so you told me why you didn’t like me, which is fair, but i want a real chance at proving you wrong. can you at least give me that?” rafe hesitantly rested a hand on your knee, the hopeful look in his eyes making your heart melt into a soft puddle of mush. “hmm..” you pretended to think, the anticipation making rafe’s leg bounce. “okay. only under one condition though..” rafe nodded frantically.

“anything.”

“tell me why you like me so much when i avoid you like the plague, and never seemingly look in your direction.. like ever.” the man next to you snorted. “you want me to go down my full list? ‘cause we’ll be sitting here all night—” just then, the ride operator’s voice boomed through the intercom speakers from inside the tunnel. “hi, i’m so sorry for the inconvenience, but we’re having some technical difficulties and my electrician guy says it’ll be at least an hour or two before you could leave. i promise to issue a full refund once you two are off.”

you and rafe looked at each other half concerned and half amused. “..so, you were saying?”

[lqfiles]

PAY THE PRICE — 58. a second try

previous — master list — next

notes ; WE ARE FINALLY HERE. i can’t tell if it feels rushed but atp idec i’m just trying to get this out 😭✌🏽 POP DA MF APPLE JUICE GET THE FRICKING FIRE WORKS WE ARE GETTING LIT.

BONUS — 570 wc, just a little fun extra that i felt like writing 🫰🏽

you could feel the beating of your heart all the way in the back of you ear, it’s rhythmic patter at an abnormally fast rate as you nervously stood in front of donghyuck’s apartment door. a place that was very familiar to you once, but felt totally foreign now.

you wondered how it would all unfold, what the first few seconds of your interaction would go like. would he have a moment of realisation that maybe you weren’t worth his time? would you two even talk much? would everything just go back to normal after a month of not seeing each other? you were tempted to back out for a split second, rethinking this moment and reschedule your ‘date’ so you could mentally prepare yourself, even if you were the one who proposed it.

but the door opened, almost as if donghyuck knew you were there this whole time. with a slow pull, you were met with him, and the emotions washed over you like a wave. you could never forget what donghyuck looked like, you’re sure that an image of his face has been permanently scarred in your mind, serving as both a fond or traumatic reminder. the only change was the new jet black hair he wore, its length having grown by a little bit.

“i missed you.” were his first words, a bashful smile already stuck on his face that he couldn’t fight off. it was contagious, as soon enough you smiled back at him, unable to hide your joy. you missed him too, and you told him exactly that. “can i hug you?” donghyuck followed up, this time avoiding any eye contact.

the cuteness aggression you felt for him were put aside for a moment as you leaned forward and embraced the boy next door in a soft embrace, one which tightened as he pulled you closer. you got a whiff of his signature vanilla scent, one you wished to drown in by never letting go off him. but donghyuck already pulled away, retracting his arms back to his side.

“do you like the hair?” he asked with a shy smile sporting his face. you smiled again, nodding your head. you loved it. you loved everything about his look. and after seeing him again, you came to the conclusion that you just loved seeing donghyuck. “it’s a nice look.” you decided on keeping your answer simple, though your answer was enough for donghyuck to beam.

“thank you, it’s a new me. i got the website ready so let’s hurry up.” donghyuck motioned for you to follow him into his apartment. you followed the boy into his place and as you did, donghyuck’s words fully sunk in your head. they lingered as you watched the episodes, and they lingered even after you finished watching them all. looking to your side, you were met with donghyuck who’s head was slumped, having dozed off some time ago.

focusing on the newly dyed black hair, his words came back to mind. a new me. you couldn’t agree more with his simple statement as the hair brought a new identity to the boy you knew. it signified the start of something new, and new him, a new era, a new chance.

staring at his softened features that were in deep rest, you came to the conclusion that you truly were willing to take this new chance, and new him into your life.

TAGLIST ; @90s-belladonna @pnkified @2jisungs @swee7dream @sinisxtea @en-dream @h-aecat @lostinneocity @sunflowerbebe07 @pookime @aerivrs @alethea-moon @hcvenue @prettyrenjunn @manooffline @bath1lda @hyejooistic @emvrd @dojaejunging @odxrilove @hyuckluvr-com @jaeims @ihyucksol @tddyhyck @dalsosapple @https-yeonjun @luvlyrenwoo @yoursyuno @lilacsxjoon @heymsperfectlyfine @mystverse @ne0c0r3 @casperbutnot-theghost @hyuckies18 @w3bqrl @ckline35 @nosungluv @luvvsnae @chcnlcs @cryingforgyu @thatgirlkay @222brainrot @junviadinho @n0hyuck @sinsgaybutthatsokay @choerubies @goldustupmysea @cyber-innie @hyunjungjae @blamemef0rit @lowkeychenle @lecheugo

[crescenthistory]

Hey Carina congratulations on 2k!! Such a wonderful milestone for a even more wonderful writer I'm happy for you it's more than well deserved

Perhaps I can ask for an Argue? I thought of the prompt 6 from List B the Bookshop AU with Regulus and muggle reader just for the twist inside Reggie's brain baby definetly doesn't know how to act around muggles but is smitten by reader at first sight

thank you so so much my love<33 you're an angel

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ARGUE for prompt 6 "bookshop au" with regulus black

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: fem!reader, use of y/n, muggle!reader, references to walburga and orion's great parenting (abuse + discrimination), shy!regulus, implied overstimulation, exposure therapy

wc: 1.3k

Sirius insisted that part of deconstructing everything they had been taught growing up was emerging yourself in the muggle world.

While Regulus thought that logic was sound when they were sitting in his living room, talking everything through over a glass of wine, he most decidedly did not think so anymore. He was taking his first stroll down a strictly muggle street in Central London and though he would not admit it, he was beyond stressed and overwhelmed. 

He kept overthinking, second-guessing everything he did and whether it would give him away too much, hand constantly itching for his wand. Regulus felt naked, exposed, and was two seconds away from tucking tail and running back home to Sirius to promptly tell him exactly what he thought of this plan.

It was something he had never thought much of before as he would always just spell away any annoying sounds, but the noise level around him was deafening to the point where it genuinely hurt. Becoming increasingly desperate to get away from the sound and hide in a corner where he could apparate without being seen, Regulus began scouting for a place to hide. An alleyway, a quiet shop – anything.

When a wooden sign stood out to him in the sea of neon lights, with something scribbled about books, he knew he had found the spot. 

Sidestepping the many strangers in his path, Regulus reached for the narrow door and pushed it open, all but clambering into the space.

The bookshop was a stark contrast to the outside world, to his relief seeming more like something he might find in Diagon Alley than Oxford Street. There were small glowing orbs on grey wire strung up around the ceiling to soften the light, all the furniture was wooden and dark, and several plants decorated the space to liven it up.

At the very back, past all the beautifully decorated shelves, was a desk that he currently saw only a tuft of hair poking up from behind. On instinct, Regulus took a step closer to see what it was when the person rose back up to their full height, holding at least five books in their arms.

“Oh!” you exclaimed as you saw him, nearly losing all the books you were holding. He jumped too, clearly not having expected to see someone, despite being the one fleeing into your shop. “So sorry, darling, I didn’t hear you come in.”

Regulus tried to get his vocal chords working again. “That’s quite alright, my apologies.”

You waved him off with one hand as you rounded your little till to walk up to a semi-full shelf and begin putting the books into it. “No apologies needed around here. What can I do for you, love?”

Your voice was so melodic, almost lilting through your sentence as if you and Regulus were old friends, as if you knew him. He wondered how that was even possible, if you could be a witch in disguise using legilimency on him.

When you turned your head to look at his awestruck expression with an entertained smile, he realised that was certainly not the case — and that he had yet to answer your question.

“Sorry, no, I, uh–” Regulus had to stop himself to gather his thoughts, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose a bit abashedly. “No, sorry, it’s just my first time in this… neighbourhood and I got a bit overwhelmed by all the noise.” He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder to the treacherous, big and confusing world outside.

You pressed your lips together as you smiled, almost as if you were holding back an even bigger one. You nodded in complete understanding. “It’s rowdy at this time of day, even for us seasoned veterans.” You kept talking as you walked around your shop, fetching a ladder to fix something at the top of the shelf he stood by. “You are more than welcome to hide away in here with me, no pressure.”

Part of Regulus was terrified at the thought of being alone in a room with a muggle that he had to keep this huge secret from – it was different than with Ted, because at least he knew about magic by the time Regulus met him. You had no idea and the thought really messed with his head. More importantly though, part of Regulus was terrified at your offer because you were painfully pretty and he was too much of a stumbling mess to be trusted around you right now.

Yet a simple glance over his shoulder told him that there was no way he was heading back out there right away. 

With a sigh and his slumping shoulders, he resigned himself to his fate. He closed his eyes in defeat for a few second before turning them back on you, accompanied by a small and probably shy smile. “I would really like that, thank you…”

“Y/N,” you supplied at his pause. “And it’s no problem, it’s usually during rush hours that I have the most time to kill anyway. Those who head out for books are usually the ones wishing to avoid that chaos.” You gave him a knowing wink as you climbed back down the ladder and stowed it away in favour of bringing out a paper box filled with more books.

“You… this is what you do?” Regulus asked as he took in the place, almost in awe. “You get to just spend every day surrounded by books?”

You looked at him with a curious smile, almost as if he asked a very obvious question. “Yes, it’s quite neat, isn’t it? I organise the shelves and various seasonal collections, I dust and keep everything clean and I sell books to passerbys. There’s much worse gigs to land.”

“Sounds like kind of a dream, actually.” He had never seen a bookshop that wasn’t kept running mostly by magic. Watching you unload the books yourself and organise them, floating around the small shop with an inherent elegance was magical in itself. “I assume you’re a reader, then?”

Finally a topic he might be a bit more steady on. Until this, his only interactions with the muggle world had been through its literature. As he scanned the shelves while you worked around him, he saw various titles and names he recognised. He basked in the atmosphere of them, in how this was going quite well despite his previous shaking fear. 

You laughed heartily. “Of course, I think that has to be part of the application you send in. I trust you’re the same?”

You gestured vaguely to Regulus, presumably making some comment on how he was dressed. He didn’t quite have the muggle social cues to decipher it, so he just smiled nervously and nodded. “Yes, though I have mostly only read classics. You know, old philosophers and the like. I would like to expand my taste.”

Upon that comment, you stopped in your work to lean against a bookshelf and study him. A small smile was sneaking around your lips. “I never did ask you your name.”

“It’s Regulus. Regulus Black.”

Any hope that you might have been a witch disappeared when the name invoked no response in your face. Yet, Regulus was finding that so far, it really was no huge problem that you were a muggle. There was still some connection to be found, and you most certainly were not any of the words leftover from Walburga rattling in his brain.

“Well, then, Regulus,” you drawled with your gaze happily trained on him. “Care to have your taste expanded today?”

There was no hesitation in his smile. “I would love to.”

You had no idea to what degree that sentiment rang true for him.

[ginnyw-potter]

Ginny Weasley should die.

Thank you for the prompt anon! 😊 I hope you like it.

Death's cup

"Ginny Weasley should die."

Harry looked up from his newspaper and thought about his wife upstairs. 50 years old. Not quite in her quidditch years anymore but not old enough to die of natural causes, or so Harry would think. He did not want to let her go.

He looked at death. He seemed familiar. "Ah. Interesting that you tell me this. I thought you wielded your scythe on your own time, sir."

He stood up from the table and Death was yet still taller than him by almost more than a head.

Death moved uneasily. His face was hardly visible under his hood. "I do, but you... are the Master of Death and I will not take your wife away unannounced."

"I don't have the Elder Wand. The Stone is lost to time. The cloak belongs to James."

Death nodded. "You do not lose the title until someone else brings the items together. James is a special one. He hides from Death just as well as his father. There were some close calls under that cloak."

Though the thought of his son dying prickled as much as thinking about Ginny dying did, he only nodded. "He has no clue what it used to be like."

"He grew up safe thanks to the efforts of the generation before him," Death said. "I need to go and start on my day. I will be back in a few moments."

And just like that, Death walked out of his back door and soared straight up into the sky.

Harry had not even moved from his spot when James appeared by the same back door and knocked before entering.

"Morning dad, here's the cloak like you asked." His son put the cloak down on the table. "Mum still asleep?"

He nodded, dumbfounded but didn't reveal that he had never asked for the cloak. "Sleeping in."

"Alright. I'll see you two for dinner, yeah?"

Harry nodded again, trying not to think of the horrible possibility of Ginny not making it to dinner. "Of course," he said around the lump in his throat.

His son walked to the door again but Harry stopped him. James turned around to look at him.

"With or without that cloak, you're not invincible. Don't forget that," Harry said.

James offered him a lop-sided smile. "Is this another lesson from you where you take the cloak away from me to prove something?"

"No. Just a reminder."

"Because I am getting married soon and then I want to give you some of those grandkid-things mum dreams about." James hugged him.

Harry hugged him back. "Don't tell her that or she'll bug you about it until you bring her one."

"Merlin," his son let out with a chuckle. "I know it. I thought Al was going to beat me to it, to be fair." James released him and stepped back.

"He might still," Harry mused out loud.

James nodded in agreement. "Alright, see you tonight, dad!"

Harry waved absent-mindedly, his fingers of his other hand already wrapping around the cloak.

As soon as James had disapparated, he walked upstairs and into the master bed room. Ginny was sleeping soundly.

He tried not to think too hard about losing her but his arms shook as he draped the cloak over her. She did not stir.

"I love you, Gin," he said just in case and then he walked back downstairs.

He had just poured himself another cup of coffee when Death descended the stairs and walked back into the kitchen.

"The oddest thing just happened," Death said with an air of innocence, holding a list. "It says Ginny Weasley, bedroom, but I could not find her."

"That is odd," he agreed, the knot around his heart loosening a little. "Coffee?"

"Oh. Yes, thank you."

Harry poured Death a cup and handed it to him.

The skeletal hand wrapped around the ear of the cup. Both of them leaned against the counter as Death took a sip. A bit of steam escaped from the ear holes in his hood as he drank.

He seemed to leisurely read the list to see what was ahead for the day.

"Sir Barkington?" Harry inquired as he couldn't help but glance at the list.

"Yes," Death said. "Elderly dog. One of my favourites. It's such a joy to see them escape their old body with their achey joints and bad eyesight and see them chase around like a young puppy once more. It gets me every time."

Harry smiled. "That does sound rather nice." He looked at the name still at the top of his list. "Isn't it rather odd that my wife should be listed as 'Ginny Weasley' when she's been a Potter for thirty years?"

The cup of coffee hesitated in front of Death's mouth as his eyes slipped down. "That is odd."

"So?" Harry asked.

Death grumbled. "I wonder if the stupid fragmented souls messed with my list. Can't move on, can't go back. Trying to defy nature and now I have to pass those sorry excuses for a soul every morning on my commute!"

Harry's eyebrows rose. "If one was previously occupying a diary, it would know my wife's name rather well."

"Ah." Death's gaze fell on the list again. "That may very well be it. I'll need to investigate." He set the cup of coffee down on the counter and a quil appeared in his hand. He crossed Ginny's name off the list. "One way or another, consider her off the hook. I'll talk to her in another century or so." He rolled up the list and tucked it in the pocket of his cloak. "I'll see you soon."

Harry swallowed.

"Just kidding!" Death said, opening the door and stepping outside. "That never gets old! But you will. Live a long life, Harry. I will meet you again when it's time." He waved and then soared off once more.

Harry walked up the door and closed it. He returned to his coffee and took another sip.

"Why was the cloak on me?" She held it in her hands. She looked so very alive with tousled long hair and her night dress wrapped around her form.

"If I told you Death was looking for you, would you believe me?"

She snorted a laugh and picked up the cup of coffee from the counter. "No." She took a sip and promptly spat it out. "That tastes like death!"

"Told you he was here," Harry mumbled under his breath. "I'll get you a new one."

She playfully pushed him out of the way with her hip. "I'll make myself one. You clearly can't be trusted around the coffee machine anymore."

He laughed and took hold of her, kissing her eagerly.

"On second thought..." she said as she slipped her hand down his back. "Why don't you come back upstairs with me..."

"The counter is right there..." Harry offered.

She laughed. "I am not twenty anymore."

"No, you're not," he said happily, his hand caressing the curve of her hip. "But you get better every year."

"My joints don't," she said against his lips.

He pulled her up against him. "Oh, alright. And I'll make you a proper cup in a bit."

She dragged him upstairs, Death's cup forgotten.

[lilgarbitch]

lovesick - Noah Sebastian

Beside You Pt. 3

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

CW: groveling, anxiety, angst, the whole shabang

Word Count: 4.5k

Author‘s Note: 🫵🏻 HAHA SUCKERS jk i hope you enjoy

Tags: @theanarchymuse95 @dontwantthemoney @chey-h @badomensgoodomens @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @enemiestolovershoe @blade-dressed-in-red @xmads-omensx @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @thatchickwiththecamera @tosoundlessdarkistare @lacy1986

Y/N

I had to force myself out of bed again today. Some days are better than others, but days like these, ones where I don‘t have work or anything planned, I have to give myself a reason to actually get up. Sometimes just the walk to the living room is all I can do, but today I‘m making myself do some shopping. The cupboards are running dry and I‘ve been surviving on delivery for too long to be healthy. After throwing on presentable but comfortable clothes, I make my way to the grocery store. 

My mind has been in a fog for as long as I can remember, so as I shop, I have to repeatedly check my list to make sure I don‘t forget anything, causing me to circle the store a few times. As I make it to the wine aisle, far back into the store, I hear a bit of laughter nearby. Like a bunch of college kids on their first grocery trip together who can‘t help but laugh at everything. It puts a small smile on my face, remembering what it was like to try and do things like this with the boys. Folio always doing whatever he could to make us laugh, Noah tripping over his own feet (Or Nick‘s) and almost crashing the cart, and Nick pretending like he hated us for causing a ruckus, even if he was constantly adding to it. 

I let the small sweet memory play in my mind as I scan the aisle, debating on what I wanted. I‘ve been good with drinking away my sorrows in the last few years, calming down after the first one, but I never know when those days will creep back in, so I decide on two bottles of a sweet, low ABV wine, and place them in my cart. I pause to take one last glance at my list, making sure I got everything, before looking back up to start heading to the check-out. 

And that‘s when my eyes land on someone. Someone in a cap, sunglasses, too familiar long hair, and an identical sleeve as Nick‘s. Every cell in my body froze as I watched him walk towards the aisle near mine, eyeing up the rows of beer. I watch as he decides on a case, grabbing it and finally lifting his head. His eyes barely grazed mine, before he did a double take. And then we just stand there, staring at each other. After a few moments, he blinks, glances behind him for a second, and then turns back towards me. I can practically hear the gears spinning in his head, debating how he wants this interaction to go. Or maybe they‘re the gears in my mind, thinking the same thing. Finally, he starts walking towards me, an awkward yet warming smile on his face. 

‘‘Y/N…Hi,“ He practically whispers, knocking me back into reality as I finally hear his voice again after almost 4 years. 

‘‘Uh..Hi. How are you?“ I almost grimace at how awkward this is, when, for years, we used to be able to talk about anything.

‘‘I‘m good. The boys and I are actually playing a show at the Canal Club tonight,“ He rushes out, like he needed to explain why he was finally here after so long. I nod, trying to show how proud I was, and not the pain and fear I was feeling, knowing that they were all back in Richmond tonight, ‘‘How have you been?“

I take the most subtle deep breath I could, needing to put all my energy into putting on a front. It would be embarrassing for him to find out that I‘m still hurting all these years later. That to this day, I‘ve yet to move on and I still miss them all more than anything. 

‘‘I‘m good!,“ I reply, maybe a little too enthusiastically. I try to keep a smile on my face, trying my best not to make it seem too forced, “Still at the same house. Still waitressing at the same place. Not much has changed.”

I almost see a small hint of shock on his face, but he just nods. He’s probably thinking about how I’ve gone nowhere with my life since they left, which was true. Them leaving destroyed me. I haven’t been able to do much other than the bare minimum. But I don’t want him or anyone else to know that, so I just let him know that life is the same old shit as before. 

“Well, you look great. I like what you’ve done with your hair,” He says with a small smile. I mirror his smile, ignoring the fact that he’s talking about the grown out, faded hair that I was currently covering with a beanie. I give him a small thanks, before I see a face pop up out of the corner of my eye. 

My stomach drops, I knew he wasn’t here alone, but I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could handle at the moment without fully preparing myself. All I saw was a tall, tattooed man with long hair walking our way in my peripheral, and I was silently begging to any higher being watching over it wasn’t who I thought it was. And thankfully, they answered. In comes their new member I haven't met yet. Nick glances to the side and gives him a small nod. 

“Jolly, this is Y/N. Y/N, Jolly,” Nick introduces us. I reach my hand out with a small smile, truly happy it was him and not any of the other guys. I pretend I don’t see the small look Nick gives Jolly before we shake hands. 

“Nice to meet you,” I say with the best sweet voice I could muster at the moment. 

“You, too. I’ve always wanted to meet some of the boy’s home friends they talk about,” he replies, with one of the thickest accents I’ve probably ever heard around here. I ignore the way he called me their friend, not knowing if he knows the full story or not. 

“Yeah, we were just uh..catching up. I mentioned that we were playing here tonight,” Nick throws in, trying to keep the conversation going. 

“Oh? They didn’t tell you already?” And there was my answer to if he knew our history or not. “Well why don’t you come down to see us perform? I bet we can hook you up with a ticket.”

I glance at Nick as I debate my answer, and surprisingly, he has an almost hopeful look in his eyes, making me rethink everything. 

“I..Uh..I’ll see if I can free up some time,” I lie.

”Well, we’ll tell them that there’s a free ticket waiting for you with your name on it. Why don’t you text one of the guys when you figure it out so we know. Maybe we can hang out after the show? I bet it’s been a while since you’ve all seen each other,” Jolly says, to which I nod. 

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do. I’m still at the old house, like I said, so we can hang there if the others are up for it,” I awkwardly ramble, already feeling a pit forming in my stomach at the invitation I almost wish I didn’t give, both desperately wanting to have them in my home again, but also knowing I won’t be able to handle it.

Nick nods with an even more hopeful look on his face, and Jolly has a pleased, relaxed look, completely oblivious to what he’s about to witness if we all come together again. They talk a bit about the show, still sounding hopeful I’ll come, before we say our goodbyes, Jolly’s being a “See you later,” as if he already knows I want to see the other boys more than anything. 

My mind was racing even more than before as I pay for my groceries and make my way home. As I look through my closet, trying to find the perfect outfit to wear. As I stare at my appearance, knowing I’ll see Noah again tonight.

Do I wear something from the time we spent together? It’s not like I’ve gotten that much clothes since then, other than outfits that aren’t really ‘going out’ wear. My hair’s a mess. I have a few hours until the show. Do I redye it? Do I present myself as someone who hasn’t been slowly dying on the inside since the day they left? 

They’ve all changed so much in the last few years, so do I want to show that I have as well? Even though my version of change wasn’t for the better? Or do I show up looking like a day hasn’t passed, wearing what I always used to and bring back old memories like they will for me?

I already know I’m going to spend the next few hours freaking out over everything, knowing it’s going to be an emotional night as well. 

Noah

Folio swats at my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts and causing me to pull my fingers from my mouth as I was chewing my nails with anxiety. I go to glare at him before Nick catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I asked him to run to the store for snacks and drinks, specifically requesting some type of alcohol in hopes it would ease my nerves just a little bit, so I was thankful he was finally back. But as our eyes met, I see that he has this sheepish look on his face. Then Jolly bounds through the door, as excited as ever. 

“We ran into your friend at the store! She’s really pretty,” he exclaims, causing me to completely stop breathing. I look back over at Nick, probably looking absolutely terrified, and he just nods. 

“You ran into Y/N?” I ask, trying not to sound too excited or worried.

”Yeah! I told her she should come to the show tonight. She even invited us back to her place after, if you guys are up for it,” Jolly answers. 

“She…She’s coming to the show tonight?” I ask slowly, and he nods, completely oblivious to how freaked out I was right now. 

“She didn’t confirm, but I assume she will. I mean, why wouldn’t she want to see you guys after so long? Especially now that we’re touring. I told her to text one of you if she can or not.”

I stare at Jolly for a few moments before turning to Nick, then Folio, all of them staring back at me. Jolly, confused with my reaction, and the other two with a pitying, yet hopeful look on their faces. 

“What am I missing?” Jolly asks. Thankfully, Nick responds.

”Y/N used to be…family. Even more to Noah than the rest of us.” He looked at him even more confused, not catching on yet. 

”Well? What happened?”

”I left.” I answer bluntly, making him turn back to me. 

“What do you mean?”

”I up and left. We were friends since childhood, dating for almost three years…and I left her to move to L.A.” He stares at me, waiting for me to continue, but I don’t.

”And I’m guessing she didn’t take it well?” I shook my head. 

“I purposely didn’t want her to take it well…I completely dropped her. The second I made the decision to leave, I decided it was best to get her to hate me so it wouldn’t hurt more in the long run. But it did. At least for me. It’s been almost four years since I pushed her away and it’s my biggest regret…And now, tonight, I might see her again.”

”Dude, what the fuck? Why the hell wouldn’t you at least try? I understand long distance sucks, but we’re getting big. We could’ve easily covered flights. You could’ve talked on the phone. She could’ve fucking moved out here with you.” Jolly practically berates me. 

“I couldn’t do that to her. I didn’t want to drag her along into my dream when she could’ve chased her own. I couldn’t have her constantly waiting for me while I lived this life, bringing her out here, knowing no one, and never being there for her as we all worked on our band. She’s probably so much better off with this freedom.”

“Noah…When I talked to her earlier, she didn’t look great. She told me she was still living in that house, and hasn’t even changed jobs. She looked like life has been dragging her down ever since. She needed you. Needs you.” Nick cut in, completely catching me off guard. I stare at him as I let his words sink in, not knowing if I hated the regret I felt knowing I absolutely destroyed her by making this decision, or if I was grateful to know that she still needed me as much as I needed her after all these years. 

I let out a sigh and fall back onto the couch, draping my arm over my face as the pain resurfaced once again, this time more confusing. I knew I fucked up, but I kept her waiting all these years. I destroyed a once amazing, happy girl, who was always there for me and my brothers. I made them cut her off too, assuming it would ease the trouble of leaving. This whole time, I was killing us both. As terrified I was, I needed to see her. I needed to make this right. Because I missed her more than anything. 

Y/N

I step into the crowd, hiding myself in the mix of people. I knew from the countless shows that the boys and I went to that I needed to stay off to the side so I didn’t deal with too many pushing people and crowd surfers, definitely not in the mood for that tonight, but I wanted to be close enough to the stage that I could see them well. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t excited. I watched my boys perform together countless times, just always in someone’s garage or dingy little stages in random tiny venues around town. This would be the first time I was actually seeing them perform their dream. 

Apparently, Cane Hill was playing first, then them, so I had a little more time to prepare to see them all for the first time in so long. I was still freaking out over seeing Nick after all these years that I didn’t know how I was going to handle seeing Folio and Noah. Especially Noah. 

I was terrified that they’d be looking for me in the crowd, so I was making sure I was blending in as much as possible, and then I could either sneak back home after if this was too much, or try and find them once they got off stage. 

As the lights finally turned off and the first band took stage, I couldn’t focus. Their music was good, but I couldn’t stop checking my phone, counting down the minutes of their set. I kept fixing my clothes, hoping my skirt wasn’t riding up too much and that I wasn’t over or under dressed. My mind was a mess. I didn’t know how tonight would play out and I was terrified. I kept running possible scenarios in my head of how everything could go wrong or if anything would go right. How do we fix any of this? Was it even worth fixing? 

As Cane Hill walked off stage, I had to close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. My stomach was hurting with anxiety and I could hear my heart racing out of my chest. I didn’t open my eyes until I heard cheering around me once more. 

Folio walked on stage, his large smile the same as it’s always been. He walked up to the drum set as Nick and Jolly stepped out, guitar and bass already slung across their fronts as they sauntered into their spots, looking confident as ever. I couldn’t help but smile. Some of my anxiety started to ease. They looked like they were meant to be here. To have a large crowd cheering for them, excited to hear them perform. They deserved this. And that proud feeling was just enough to distract me for the main attraction to sneak onto stage.

There he was…

The love of my life. The one who kept me sane for as long as I can remember. The one who brought me comfort in the darkest times. The one who created even darker times. The man I’ll never forget for as long as I live. Noah was once again standing in front of me. 

I watched as his eyes scanned the crowd, probably looking for me, but thankfully it was dark enough that he wouldn’t be able to see. As they started their first song, I couldn’t help but get emotional. To hear his voice in person again, even if it was through speakers like it has been since they released their album, brought me both pain and comfort. He was here. We were once again in the same room. 

As the show went on, I found myself singing along. The music allowed my nerves to calm a little, and being hidden from his sight and just being able to admire him from afar allowed me to feel a sense of peace for the first time in a long time. He sounded amazing. He was meant for the stage. As I let myself join in with everyone else cheering and singing along, I took the chance to really appreciate how much he’s grown. How confident he’s gotten being in the spotlight. How perfect he looks standing in front of hundreds of people, getting admired for his talent. 

And I get so caught up in finally enjoying my time that their set eventually comes to an end. And he speaks into the mic, letting me hear his voice one more time as he introduces the band and thanks everyone for being there. And I listen to his velvety voice being blared through the speakers one last time before they all step off stage. 

And now I wasn’t sure what to do. Do I watch the rest of the show, staying hidden from them? Do I leave? Or do I search for them? The room was practically pitch black as everyone waited for New Year’s Day to come out, so I didn’t think there was much I could do anyway. 

But then I feel my phone buzz in my hand. I look at it and see a text, surprised to see that he hasn’t changed his number and his nickname was still unchanged in my phone.

Nicky- Come to the left side of the stage

I glace up and see his face illuminated by his phone, and without thinking, my legs take me towards him. It was a bit of a struggle to get through the crowd, but finally, I was facing him for the second time today. Once he sees my legs in front of him, he looks up and gives me a small smile.

”So…how was it?” He awkwardly asks. I give him a smile back.

”You guys are unbelievable. I’m so proud of you, I can’t even put it into words,” I say, the comfort of being near him already back like nothing changed. He visibly relaxes at the sound of my tone and his smile grows bigger at my words.

”That means a lot, especially coming from you. I’m really glad you showed tonight, by the way.”

”I’m glad, too. But to be honest, I’m freaking the fuck out right now.” He changes to a warm smile and turns to sling an arm over my shoulder like he always used to when he wanted to comfort me. 

“Trust me. So is everyone else. And I truly mean it when I say I’m glad you showed. I know we fucked up real bad and made a really bad decision, and I couldn’t be more thankful that you don’t hate us for it.” He said with a soft voice as we finally started walking away from the crowd and towards back stage. 

“I could never hate you guys. I definitely felt something close to it when you all left, but I quickly understood why you all did what you did. But I can’t say I’m not still upset with you three, one more than the others.” He nods like he understands what I mean.

”Well that one may be the most regretful of all of us,” He says as he pauses outside their green room, “Folio hasn’t shut up since we told him we ran into you earlier, so you’re going to need to spend some time with him first, but just give me the word, and we’ll give you and Noah some space to talk.”

I give him a soft smile and nod, and he finally opens the door. Within a second of stepping through, I’m being tackled into a hug by Folio, instantly recognizing his scent as my face gets shoved into his chest.

”I missed you so fucking much, Y/N. Holy shit, I’m so happy to see you.” I hug him back for a few moments before patting his back, needing air to respond. 

I let out a soft laugh as he finally pulls away and looks down at me with an apologetic smile. I watch as his eyes take in my appearance and I catch my breath after he practically squeezed it out of me.

”I missed you, too. So much. And you fucking rocked out there,” I said as I grabbed his shoulder and brough him back into another hug, truly missing them. 

“I really hope you aren’t mad at me. I wanted to keep in contact but I didn’t want to hurt you more. Please don’t hate me,” he whispers in my ear as he holds me tight.

”Like I told Nicky, I could never hate you. I love you guys more than anything and am just happy to finally see you again,” I whisper into his. 

We pull away after a minute of our much needed embrace and I greet Jolly before I’m immediately pulled into Nick’s arms.

”It wasn’t fair I haven’t gotten a real one since I’ve seen you,” he mumbles as he squeezes me tight. I laugh softly but just let myself take in the feeling of peace and comfort I’ve been missing all these years.

These boys were my family and even after not seeing them for so long, the love has yet to die. And to know that they’ve missed me just as much as I’ve missed them is making me emotional again. I really hope I don’t cry just yet. I still had one more boy to get to. I can feel his eyes on me. His presence filling the room and running my nerves rampant. Nick finally pulls away, laughing at something Folio said as my eyes instantly drift to where he sat.

In that moment, I think we both stopped breathing as we just stared at each other for a few seconds. Seeing him so close again brought back so many feelings. Feelings from our time spent together. Feelings of our time apart. The love and the anger. The longing and the resentment. The grief. 

“Y/N…” he practically whispers out as he slowly stands up from his seat and makes his way towards me. 

“Noah..” I croak out, my emotions already collecting in my throat. 

As we finally stand in front of each other, I hear the other boys step out of the room, giving us our space without me even asking for it. I almost want to be mad they left me alone with the man that has haunted my every living moment, but I’m also thankful, not knowing how this is going to go and not wanting to cry in front of anyone but him. 

“I-…How are you?” he softly asks. I just stare at him, letting his voice play in my head after not hearing it for so long. 

“I’m…good,” I finally answer, lying. His eyes trail over my face, already knowing my expressions better than me, and definitely catching my lie. 

“I’m not. I-…Y/N. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice cracks towards the end, and I can feel my eyes starting to well up with tears. 

“Noah. I just…Why?”

”I love you so much, Y/N. I love you so fucking much and I regret everything I’ve done. I thought I was making a good decision at the time, but I’ve regretted it ever since,” he gushes. 

“So you never reach out? You just leave me in the dark for four years? You drop me out of the blue one day, get your life together, and leave me in the dust? All alone? I couldn’t even talk to Nick or Folio!” I can see him grimace as I raise my voice. 

“I thought it was for the better. I thought it was selfish to ask you to join us. I thought that if I…if we left you behind, you wouldn’t feel overshadowed. I knew our focus was going to be put into the music and I couldn’t drag you along just to make you feel unappreciated.” His eyes were now turning red and he was waving his hands, reaching out for me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was about to drop to his knees and beg me for forgiveness. 

“Noah. I’d do anything for you. I still love you. Despite the fact you did me so wrong. But you told me that you loved me and then you went and left me. I just..” I sigh and turn around, moving to sit on the couch, burying my face into my hands as my voice turns into more of a whisper, “Why’d you do this to me? I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I can’t do much of anything at all… I’ve been so sick since you left.”

He moved to crouch in front of me, trying to look into my eyes. I sniffle and look up at him, desperately needing to see more of his face after so long, even if it’s covered in pain. His hand slowly reaches out, debating on touching me before finally placing it on my knee. 

“I’ve been dying on the inside since we left. I need you, Y/N. I can’t keep doing this without you…I now know how wrong I was.”

”Noah…”

TO BE CONTINUED

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Chapter 15

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Arranged marriage AU

Interact with this post to be on the tag list. Will only add if you interact with this post that’s linked. Read DNI/BYF first. 

NOTE: Dion’s down bad and Jeremy needs more than one positive influence. Also, pray for the Reader guys. 

Warnings: Both Dion and Jeremy are out of character, toxic marriage/relationship, themes of obsession and possessiveness, slight yandere themes, anxiety, one or two mentions of vomit, near panic attack (probably), invasion of personal space (Dion needs to learn), jealousy, drugs (sleeping pills), almost normal sibling interaction between the two Agriches (they are trying their best <3), mention of birth control, Reader thinks about how Dion would make a pretty bad father (better than Lant but still bad), (Reader thinks Dion would be jealous of their future kid if they ever have one, but I think he’d be more worried about whether or not they’ll survive), Dion’s actions are very toxic no matter how you look at it. Please tell me if I missed any.

NSFW-ish warnings: mention of implied vaginal sex, Lant being creepy-ish with putting the Reader on birth control since he basically thinks the married couple is busy at night often, implied/mention of cum swallowing, mention/implied oral (male receiving) and hand job. No sexual activities actually take place, but still.     

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH OR REBLOG FANDOM RELATED THINGS (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI.

= = =

“Jeremy?” 

He grins so brightly it could rival the sun. “In the flesh. I heard that the old lady invited you to her room.” Hands in his pockets, he kicks a leg before leaning against the doors. His cat-like blue eyes observe your every action. It puts you on edge.

“O-oh yes… word sure does travel fast.” Lifelessly you chuckle, fingers slightly gripping the sheets below you. It takes effort not to rip them between your fingers. Averting your eyes leads to them landing on his brown boots. They looked cleaned rather than new, the laces slightly worn and a scuff mark here and there on them. 

You look at them harder. Slightly damp with some sort of cleaning material, you quickly realize he had just washed them. Scanning over his person only makes you more certain of that fact -some slime in his hair and on his pale cheek rests a small speck of blood. His clothes were wrinkled all over and his hair was windblown. 

Regardless, his clothes are still expensive looking and you wonder if they cost more than half of your wardrobe back at home. Trying your best not to frown at the reminder of how much more powerful the Agriche family is compared to your own, you’re drawn to the red on his fair cheek.

Upon seeing where your gaze rests on his face, he quickly swipes the area off a few times until the blood is no more. It stains his blue sleeve now. 

“The old lady wouldn’t shut up about it once she sent the invitation yesterday. You should have seen Dion’s face,” he scoffs with a grin at the memory. 

Knowing Dion, it was probably a twitch of the eyebrow and a glare meant for her. Their relationship is sad, in all honesty. Still, you wonder if she told him herself or if he just overheard from a second party. Or perhaps both, going to ask her in person once the news reached his ears. 

“Is that so?” Brain working overtime to keep this conversation going, you watch as Jeremy yawns while stretching his arms above his head. When like this, he really does only look like a boy - a child. But underneath his current demeanor lies a little crazy man who has no qualms about killing. 

Just how he was taught to.

The boy hums in thought, making you look at his face. He grins and you keep the cold sweat at bay. His pearly white canines nearly shine in the sunlight seeping through the glass terrace doors. He reminds you of a cat on the hunt. Ready to pounce.

How pathetic.

Even with a child you are only prey.

“Are you free tomorrow? Xana is and it’s not like I have anything going on either.” He sounds so carefree, his age showing. And yet, the fact only makes you more nervous, fingers twitching as Jeremy waits for your answer. His face is so bright that it almost looks sincere. 

Well… you do need to talk to Roxana. Maybe not ask her for help right off the bat, but establishing a ‘decent relationship’ with her and Jeremy could be a decent idea… assuming they won’t turn out to be like your husband.

Oh. I… never considered that…

Newfound apprehension forms from a single thought that just now crossed your mind. After interacting with Maria a few times, you already expected you would become one of her ‘favorites’ - for how long, you’re not sure. But what about the rest of the family?

Lant?

Sierra?

Roxana?

Jeremy?

Would they also become obsessed with you? So far, the only one who’s acting as he should is Lant and to a degree, Maria, not to mention Sierra. On the other hand, Dion, Roxana and Jeremy are not. But, as you originally thought, the two younger in-laws could just be testing you. Whatever the reason you don’t know.

You take in a small breath. You can still hear your heartbeat even as you lock eyes with him. Your gut screams at you to kick him out as you smile at him. You force your body to ‘relax’ as it stiffens when you answer.

You need to start properly playing the role of a good in-law to these people. Submissive enough to be ignored by the majority of them while the others praise you. Holding back a scowl at the newfound ‘plan,’ you realize you’re reducing yourself to nothing more than a fucking dog.

You go on regardless. 

“Yes, actually. Do you have something in mind?” His eyes brighten, pushing himself off the doors a bit. From what’s shown, there isn’t a hint of something sinister in those blue eyes of his. Your younger brother-in-law almost reminds you of Zac whenever you praise him or tag along on one of his ‘adventures’.

“You haven’t seen the entire estate, right? There’s some cool sights we could show you.” Excitedly offering up ideas you only smile and nod. In truth, just the thought of it is making your stomach churn. It wasn’t in disgust like with your husband, but rather… something else.

“That sounds nice.”

A lie that only makes him smile brighter.

However, before he could utter another word, the doors opened behind him, and had he still leaned against it, he would have fallen backwards. Dressed to the nines - then again, who isn’t in this family, ever - a certain tall, black-haired and scarlet eyes man towers over the boy like nothing. 

You flinch while Jeremy looks at the ‘intruder’ in annoyance. Your time together has come to an end, it seems. Dion glances at you before looking at his younger half-brother. 

“Since when was breaking and entering your hobby?” What should sound like a joke is said with a glare, his voice low enough to almost sound like a threat. 

“O-oh, I actually invited him in after he knocked…” There wasn’t a bond between you and the boy. But you had a feeling that if you didn’t step in, an argument would break out, and that there was a chance that Jeremy might take a swing at him. You don’t care about Dion, but you’d rather not see a kid fight a twenty-year-old.

“Did you?” He sounds doubtful but thankfully not upset.

“Y-yes.”

Your husband only continues to stare you down. Unable to maintain eye contact with him for a second longer, you turn your attention to Jeremy. “But yes, it would be nice to spend time together.” From the corner of your eye you can see Dion slightly twitch as you show sweetness to his brother and not him.

But he quickly recovers, most likely realizing how pathetic it was to be jealous over a kid. Even more so when that kid is his own brother, needing to keep appearances that he’s not as depraved as the rest of his family. You almost praise him for that.

Jeremy smugly looks at the second oldest son before turning back to you. “Okay. I’ll come by to pick you up in the morning with Xana, then.” He lingers for a bit before your husband gently nudges Jeremy’s foot with his own, signaling to the boy that he wants him out.

… this is so weird to see… and pathetic on Dion’s end.

Your husband had only recovered from short-lived jealousy. Annoyance, on the other hand, was radiating off of him.

“Hey! Why are you pushing me out!?”

“Pushing? You must be imagining things.”

If it wasn’t for their tone of voice - snarky, threatening from Jeremy and monotone from Dion - it would have passed as a normal exchange between siblings. However, with murderous rage and pure hatred in his eyes, Jeremy looks like a hissing cat. Dion, on the other hand, looks like he could easily take him down if needed, calm and calculating.

Quickly slipping your shoes back on, you hurry over to the two males. Choosing to ignore your husband, you pat Jeremy’s head, softening your eyes as you pretend he’s your lovely - annoying - Zac. 

Imagining he had (h/c) hair instead of black, replacing his blue eyes with (e/c) in your head, the memory of your brother almost puts you at ease. You make yourself feel sick for doing this - it wasn’t fair to no-one.

“Thanks for coming by, Jeremy.” Saying his name was an accident, your breath hitching once you realize your mistake. Too intimate for in-laws who barely saw each other, when one is afraid of the other. You continue on regardless. 

“I’m sad that we need to cut our conversation short, but your brother wants to talk in private.” You don’t want to be alone with the favorite son. You consider begging Jeremy to stay, but that would only backfire on you. You’re scared to find out how Dion would react if you do that.

Jeremy’s reaction is also a call for caution. So, you keep your mouth shut.

“However, feel free to come by whenever.” 

 You’re vaguely aware of your husband’s fingers daring to curl into yours as you offer smiles and attention to Jeremy. You pull that hand away, skin crawling at his touch. Like you would willingly hold his hand. 

“Oh…,” taken aback by your sudden shower of ‘affection,’ Jeremy looks at you, surprised. But a joyful grin breaks out on his face, truly showing his youth. “Alright. I’ll come by with Xana tomorrow.” He turns on his feet to leave, but not without sending one last glare towards Dion.

After the door shuts, the arranged husband and wife are left alone.

Facing the door as your husband faces you, he’s close enough to reach out and plays with a strand of your hair, twirling it between his fingers. It makes you want to cut that strand off, to cut all of it off and scrub yourself clean. Fingers twitch as you hold back the urge to yank your hair away from him and leave the room.

“You act affectionately towards everyone but me.” He steps closer while you become glued to your spot, breathing halted and heart almost stopping. Bringing the strand of hair up to his lips, he kisses it while looking down at you, scarlet eyes glowing with something heavy, dangerous thoughts swirling in the red irises. You’re close to screaming.

Your legs buck. Lungs stop working. Mind blank. Mouth dry as you force your right hand down, shaking and twitching as it begs to be bitten down on. 

He lets it go with an odd smile, and you tear your gaze away to look at the heavy doors in front of you. 

Sweat pools at your temples and the base of your neck. You lick your lips, terrified that Dion might take another unwanted step. That he would give in and -

“I-I don’t know what you mean…,” you speak faster than you can think. Lacing your fingers together in front of your chest, you silently pray to a God that won’t listen. For if he did, you wouldn’t be here.

You must repent for your sins before he lends you an ear.

“You don’t?” His pointer finger curls and then wipes away a tear you didn’t even notice that leaked, and you start to breathe rapidly. “You smiled at two guards yesterday while ignoring me. And just now you even rubbed Jeremy’s head while you refused to touch me.”

You just shake your head, prayer after prayer said in your head. No-one answers them.

“He’s a boy… n-no need to get… upset over it.” Your toes curl in your shoes. The door is right there, you could try your luck. Oh, but when you look at him from the corner of your eye, you realize that’s impossible - his eyes are solely on you. Watching your every move, every twitch, every exhale and inhale. His attention to detail is clear as day when he calls you ‘cute’ once he notices how you caught on.

Your stomach churns.

He starts to talk again, and for once he doesn’t lean in closer or hold the back of your neck or head. “You’re right - he’s just a boy… setting aside the fact he could easily take on a good amount of the regular guards.” His reply is accompanied with a lazy smirk.

You blink, turning your head to face him. You’re still trembling, still holding back screams and sobs the longer he stays here. But, you needed to say something, slightly annoyed he’s knowingly ignoring what you meant. “I-I am fully a- aware of that,” your body twitches as you look down to the side, “and I kn - know you know what I me-mean.”

You can’t stop stuttering. It’s embarrassing, it makes you feel like a child. But how can you talk properly to a man that gladly assisted in taking your freedom away? His pretty little songbird.

Your husband hums in thought before pushing back a few strands of hair behind your ear. He takes a step back when you do. 

How considerate of him.

Was silence always this painful? Or was it just his suffocating presence that taints the air around you? Are you really going to suffer being his wife, a part of this family for the rest of your life, no matter how short?

Was your sin so offensive that it carried over to this world?

While you’re drowning in your anxiety and panic, Dion merely looks at you. Shamefully, day by day it gets harder and harder to just limit himself to fleeting touches. He’s all too painfully aware that you’re terrified of him, that you despise being here and to bear his last name. 

He knows it’s not romantic. That it’s dangerous and all kinds of fucked up. But his feelings for you are genuine, no matter how twisted. He wonders if that realization would only drive you away once you get it.

It’s not romantic but it’s the closest thing he knows to it. And it makes everything all the more ironic. 

Soon, he’ll learn the price of pushing and pushing and pushing.

Both of you are startled by three knocks at the door, too caught up in your thoughts to even hear the footsteps. A regular occurrence for you but an extremely rare one for him. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

“My Lady, I have returned with the sleeping pills. May I come in?”

Oh! You forgot all about Hana, how silly of you.

Hana my savior, my hero, God I think you’re my favorite person now and -

“Y-yes!” You squeak out, acting a bit too fast just to open the door yourself. Both your maid and husband are taken aback by this, especially when you hold the door open for her. “Come in.” You usher her, watching as her look of confusion becomes stoney once Dion enters her field of vision, standing tall, towering over both of you.

She bows her head as she continues to hold a silver tray with the pills on it. Unnecessary to carry it just for measly pills, but the fact she’s here at all improves your mood significantly. You’re so caught up in her that you don’t see the way Dion’s eye twitches before his expression becomes true neutral as he sees how warm you are with her.

“Greetings, Young Master.” She doesn’t spare him another glance as her attention returns to you. “My Lady, what time do you plan on retiring to bed?” She places the tray on the nightside table and it’s only then do you notice it.

Red wrappers hiding away the appearance of small balls rests on the tray. Watching as she takes the three pieces of what you assume to be candy and pills off the tray, you give her an answer. Your eyes never leave the candies, though. 

“Um… around eight, I suppose.” Currently it’s three in the afternoon. And currently, you’re doing your best to ignore your husband’s horrible stare. But thanks to Hana being here, it doesn’t burn as hot. 

Yes, you think. It was a good thing you helped her out back with Maria. Any other maid wouldn’t be able to withstand Dion’s presence more than her. Not batting an eye right after greeting him and yet, you don’t sense any hostility from him towards Hana.

Unlike with the guards from last night.

How… odd.

Oh. right. Dion was the one who assigned her to you. Meaning most likely he didn’t have any animosity towards her. Then, it hits you -

There’s a reason she’s here.

You bite your lip, holding back a cold shiver that threatens to crawl down your spine. No. Right now isn’t the time to think about such things. Right now is the time to thank her with a small smile, hoping your eyes aren’t showing your worries.

“O-oh,” you gesture to the candy with your head, “if I may ask, where did the candy come from?” 

“Ah, yes. Young Master Jeremy requested that I give them to you. To take away the sour taste.”

“Oh. He’s sweet. But what does he mean by ‘sour taste?” Your gut tells you that it concerns Dion. Your guess is confirmed when Hana glances at him, figuring out a way to explain without offending the man.

Your husband decides to answer in her stead.

“His new hobby is butting in with things that don’t concern him.” Clearly annoyed, your husband eyes them, scarlet narrowing into slits. Despite this, he doesn’t make a move to dispose of them or send them back.

His answer implies that the candy serves as a ‘fuck you’ to his older half-brother. Wait, doesn’t this mean that Jeremy waited for Hana? Or was it just a coincidence they crossed paths?

“He’s been carrying candy with him for a while now,” Dion says like he just read your mind. His boots echo in the room until he’s standing at your side once more. His scent makes your nerves go into overdrive, gulping down a cry for help. When Hana turns back around to take her leave, you offer a wavering smile.

“Thank you, Hana… oh, later today can you help me pick out a small gift for him? As thanks for the candy.” Truthfully, you don’t want to see the youth. His big eyes filled with an adoration held for a sibling is misdirected at you - be it for a test or a craving for something that is vastly different from what is brewed in this family.

You hate how it reminds you of the sassy twelve-year-old who sneaks into your room in the early morning. Of how it reminds you of the way your own brother would buzz around you like a bee when he was done with his tasks for the day, or simply didn’t want to be alone, his stupid grin, his stupid remarks that made your eye twitch and - 

… you miss Zac. 

“Yes, My Lady. I am ready whenever you are.” 

She hesitates before leaving, glancing at Dion and then at you. In the end she bows her head, carrying the silver tray with her. It becomes quiet when the door shuts behind her. 

A rabbit left alone with the wolf.

Fuck… I should have gone with Hana, you lament, the opportunity that once presented itself was now gone in the blink of an eye.   

“You seem close.” Dion states after observing your short interaction. “It does hurt a bit that my own wife is close with everyone else but me.” He teases, but something akin to ‘hurt’ lays barely hidden in his words.

Hah. Sucks to suck.

“... arranged wife.” Murmuring under your breath, you ignore the way his body twitches at your addition. Surely this man isn’t under the impression that you have begun to open up to the idea of accepting him merely because you let him have a few fleeting touches here and there. Or having silly ‘hope’ or an expectation that you will fall into his lap at some point in the future.

Whatever reason he had for keeping you was still a mystery. You could only guess, but every one only spelled imprisonment and suffering on your behalf.

“Right.” Dion doesn’t say anything else, but looks at you instead. A bit passes before he opens his mouth again, delivering news that makes your skin crawl at the implication yet soothes one of your worries.

“Father plans on putting you on conceptions starting tonight.” He delivers it so bluntly you almost mistook it for a joke. 

“Oh,” you say, somewhat grateful while extremely disgusted at the implied nightly activities your father-in-law presumes you engage in with his son. At least this means he doesn’t expect a grandchild anytime soon. “That’s… fine. Great, even.”

Your husband doesn’t react to your relief of not having to bear his child just yet. Like he expected it - a quick glance and it doesn’t even look like he was bothered by it. Perhaps the thought of a child might upset him to a degree - after all, having a child would mean all of your attention would be on them and not him. 

It’s clear he’s not fond of sharing. Even so, you can’t help but frown at how jealous he can be. Possessive or not, one should not be jealous of their own child receiving attention that they need.

Silence resumes. Fidgeting with your fingers, you do your best to ignore the strong effort it takes to breathe in a single breath. You should make an excuse to leave. Call for Hana and start to look for a gift for Jeremy. Lie and say you feel sick, kicking him out.

Anything. Anything to avoid his burning gaze, to get out of his presence that chokes you. To escape the one place he always seems to corner you in, behind closed doors as longing touches grazes your skin, with the only time he leaves you alone completely is when you’re laying down on the bed meant for two.

Instead all you do is stay in place. In place while your husband looks like he’s ready to pounce on you - either in a sexual or ‘loving’ manner, it doesn’t matter. Both make you want to vomit. Alias, it’s not like you will always be able to avoid intimate touches forever. Lust is a state that many feel and sometimes give into, and considering he had a few erections, it’s clear that, unfortunately, he is one of them who feels it.

The only thing you’re willing to offer are your hands or mouth. You’ll even swallow if it means he doesn’t try to escalate things further and penetrate you. 

“... you’re… you’re staring ra-rather hard.” Your voice cracks. It doesn’t even sound like yours, it sounds like a dying woman’s.

Ever so gently, hesitance obvious in his actions, one of his hands cups your cheek. You jolt, startled at his cold touch. He feels like a dead person. These same hands that hold you ‘lovingly’ are the same hands that have strangled the life out of numerous victims, enemies and family members alike. 

Goosebumps form on your skin. You’re starting to feel like a corpse, your lifeforce slowly draining away at his touch.

Frozen, you can’t react as he lifts your chin up, and your eyebrows furrow in dread and eyes widen in fear when you see how soft his expression is. Like this ‘side’ of him was reserved for you and you alone.

Your husband opens his mouth only to close it. And when he does decide to talk, he says -

“You’re beautiful.” 

You laugh. Laugh and laugh and laugh, crazed as you stumble away from him. You shake your head violently. He’s crazy, this is insane, he shouldn’t be like this. None of this should be happening. 

He shouldn’t be playing house with you, he should be obsessing over his sister. He shouldn’t be here, gentle, instead he should be on the battlefield, acting as either Lant’s or Roxana’s dog depending on the timeline. He shouldn’t be spewing out nonsense, he should be out-performing everyone in this household. 

He shouldn’t be involved with anything ‘romantic’ or sexual.

“St-stop. Stop. Just - please, just stop. I-I ca-can’t take much more of this.” You keep walking backwards until you hit the edge of the bed. Your body becomes heavy and falls onto the mattress, a creak echoing in the bedroom.

“... you drive me insane.” He should leave you alone. Walk out the doors and let you have alone time. But his feet start moving before he even thinks about anything else. Like a moth to the flame, he burns himself while fanning your flames, embers spitting out.

Dion stops right in front of you, gets on one of his knees. Your husband takes one of your hands into his and you almost throw up on the spot. Your nerves are wrecked and fried, and for a moment, you think that you’re in an awful, awful nightmare. 

Dion knows he should walk away. But you’re a magnet he’s drawn to and despite his efforts, he only scares you instead of giving you peace. Giving you more reasons to detest him than ‘love’ him.

He knows he should back off. Maybe leave with a kiss to the back of your hand, as suggested by Ash. Instead he’s doing everything that the doctor advised against, needing to swallow you whole.

He really is a horrible husband.

Still, you’re just so -

“You drive me insane. I’ll bark if you tell me to, if it means you’ll finally look my way.” 

= = =

tag list: @tiny-mimi @umi-adxhira @pix-stuff @queenofspades403 @manitscold @s-ajia @disappointment-san @darkumbreon92 @puggyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee @rentaldarling

[wedriftlikelonelyplanets]

14 landoscar!

14 from this prompt list: "I'm not going to hurt you"

PLEASE appreciate some made-up zombieverse that uh....might become SOMETHING when I decide I have the time or energy. Lemme know if you like it or whatever....

Lando’s picking his way through the abandoned hospital when he hears something. The low murmur of voices, the scuff of feet. He’s not sure if they’re on the same floor, or one lower, but his hand tightens around the handle of his gun, as he ducks into an empty room, hiding behind the open door, and trying to steady his breathing. 

He feels the fear, it’s heady, and he’s dizzy with it, adrenaline sweeping through him, hand shaky. It’s been a long time since he’s run into anyone other than raiders and the fucking zombies. But these don’t feel like raiders. There’s a rhythm to the way they walk, almost military. There are three of them, at least. Three separate voices he can pick out, past the heartbeat he can hear rushing in his ears. 

He hates it, the fear and uncertainty he feels, as he tucks himself further back, trying to make himself smaller. 

He’d just been looking for a place to stay, safe enough at least, to crash for a couple nights, where he could barricade himself in from any possible threats. He’s been on the road for so long, and it’s exhausting. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s slept for more than two to three hours. It was probably months ago, when he was in a shelter areas, before they’d gotten infected, and then he’d had to run all over again. 

It’s been lonely, if he’s being honest. But he’s never really been able to trust anyone. Not truly. Everything changed after the outbreak, and it was easy for friends to become enemies. For him to realize that it was almost impossible to trust anyone ever. And then Max had disappeared, and that was arguably the worst part of it all. 

It’s truly not the time for him to wallow in misery, to get stuck in memories of the past. Doesn’t want to think about the time he went to bed with his best friend lying beside him, and woke up to his best friend gone. 

He sucks in a deep breath to steady trembling hands, flexes them around the gun before he relaxes again, pushing himself back to his feet. Wonders if he can move quietly enough to sneak out of the hospital, or at least to the next floor before they catch on to the fact that he’s there. But he knows that even if he gets out, there’s a chance that they’ll be able to catch him anyway. He’s on foot, and oftentimes when he sees raiders, they’re either on horseback, or in cars that they’ve managed to cobble together, make work with expired fuel and a dream. 

But he can’t afford to let paranoia creep in. There’s a chance that if they do have cars, he could make his own getaway. Despite lack of access, he’s fairly certain driving a car would be like driving a bike, and it would at least give him time to put in some distance, until he can find the next safe city, or somewhere safe for him to linger. Untouched miles of forests, maybe. He thinks that if he tried, with the right supplies, he could live in the silence for a while. 

As much as he misses the contact of other humans. 

Lando pokes his head around the door frame, looks both ways, holds his breath for a second as he listens. They’re still far enough down the hallway that he thinks he can get out without alerting them. Just has to move slowly, quietly. He’s learned to walk quietly in the beat-up hiking boots that have carried him hundreds of miles. 

It’s easy, at first, knows he’s hidden under the dim lighting in dark clothes, keeps to the shadows and moves quietly. But he’s not watching his feet when he glances behind himself, to make sure the group hasn’t materialized, and he trips over something. The sound of metal clanging is loud, echoing in the silence of the space, and he curses under his breath as he manages – barely – to keep his balance. 

“Fuck was that?” one of the people asks, much closer than Lando expected them to be, so he slaps a hand over his mouth, ducks into the nearest doorway and presses himself flush to the wall. His fingers tightening around the handle of his gun all over again, thumb hovering over the safety. 

“I’ll check it,” it’s one of the other people, voice lightly accented, and he sounds almost inconvenienced. Lando wills him to go away, to leave him alone so he can make his escape. 

“Careful, Piastri. Hamilton says we’re not supposed to split up,” the other response is dry, humourless, and Lando hears a scoff. “Don’t worry. Think I’ll be okay,” is the response, layered with sarcasm. And then Lando hears footsteps approaching. 

His breath catches in his chest, terror rippling through him as he works to hold it, to keep himself still, quiet. Like he’s had to do far too many times before this. He tries to keep his hands steady, but knows that if he has to take a shot, he’ll probably miss. 

It’s been getting harder and harder for him to keep his hands stable. It’s been getting harder for him to stay like this, heart beating out of his chest, and not let himself slip into flashbacks. So he bites the inside of his cheek, sharp teeth sinking in, to keep himself present. 

“Clear,” the guy’s voice is closer, footsteps echoing, as he gets closer. Lando’s fairly certain that if he poked his head out of the doorway, he’d get an eyeful of whoever’s there. 

“This one’s clear too,” His voice is loud. Overpowering the frantic beat of Lando’s heart in his chest. And then the footsteps stop, just outside of the doorway that he’s hiding in. His eyes dart around the room, looking for somewhere, anywhere to hide. Is about to sprint for the hospital bed, to see if he can squirm his way under it. But as soon as he goes to move, he hears the click of a gun safety, and he whirls, his own gun held in ever-shaking hands. 

“Found ‘em,” 

The man standing in front of him is gorgeous, despite the fact that he’s got a streak of grime and dust across his cheek. His brown eyes are bright, narrowed on him, lips pressed into a thin line. Light brown hair swoops across his forehead, and Lando has to swallow around the desire he has to reach out and brush it back with his fingers. Wonders if it would feel soft under his touch. 

Bloody hell, he’s been alone for far too long. 

“I’ll fucking shoot,” his voice is hoarse with disuse, and he watches as the other guy’s lips twitch up in a smile, gaze darting between Lando’s shaky hands, and back to his eyes. Lando knows that he looks panicked, and wonders if it’s enough for this guy to take him seriously. “Sure,” the guy says, tucks his gun back into the hip holster, suspends his hands in the air, like Lando’s a fucking cop. 

“You okay, Piastri,” the other voices sound closer than he’s expecting, and Lando jolts, heart rabbiting in his chest. 

“Yeah, fine. Stay out there for a sec, yeah? Reckon I’ll be just fine,” Piastri’s voice is an easy drawl, and Lando wishes that he could be so unbothered, so relaxed, in the middle of a fucking zombie apocalypse. 

“‘M not going to hurt you, yeah?” Piastri says to him, his voice low and gentle, like he’s trying to talk down a feral dog, and Lando sucks in a deep breath, chest rising and falling. His fight or flight’s still triggered, but Oscar’s still all slow movements, as he reaches one hand out. “You can give me that, okay? Don’t think you’re okay to have a gun right now, mate,” but Lando twitches backwards from the outstretched hand instinctively. 

“We’ve got shelter, food, yeah? We’re out on a supply run. If you’re not infected, you can come back with us. At least give you a place to rest your head for a few days?” Piastri’s voice is so gentle, and Lando can feel the prickle of tears beading along his lower lashes. “Let me take care of you, yeah?” 

And Lando nods, hands going limp at his sides as Piastri reaches out for him, wraps gentle fingers around Lando’s wrist, tugs the gun free and removes the cartridge. “You’re going to be okay,”

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter 6: Pink Camellias - Longing For You

Summary: Andy stops by on a particularly stressful day, and a different favorite customer gives you a bit of a rude awakening.

Word Count: 2442

Author's Note: Hey my lovelies! Thank you all so much for the positive feedback I've received from so many of you since the last chapter. Enjoy this chapter, this one and the next one are going to be on the shorter side to prepare for an upcoming behemoth i have planned ;)

tag list: @celery-grace @gayandfairycore @deathmybride @harry-bowie-mercury @hodgepodge-musings @blue-eyed-bug @secretttytttttttttt @dinner-n-dxatribes @wub-wub-wub-wub-wub @padfootblackswh0r3 @axel-the-boy-witch

fic under the cut <3

So far, your day was terrible, which meant it was on par with the rest of your week.

Everything you had detailed on that late night phone call to Andy a few weeks ago had only gotten worse. The date for foreclosure was slowly approaching, your debt nearly canceled out by the sheer amount of customers you were getting recently. You could only imagine it had just become an online trend to… be nice to your partner? Whatever the incentive was, it was helping out the business, but not so much your wallet.

You often brought your frustrations to Andy, and he was so supportive it made your heart ache. Even though he’d explicitly stated often that it was completely fine for you to vent to him like this, you apologized profusely every time. This is how talking to him would start, though after a few minutes they diverged to a million other topics.

This was exactly the kind of conversation you were planning on having when he visited you today. And you couldn't wait. A countdown of the seconds until he walked in was playing in your brain.

One, two, three.

You needed the break from your life that talking to Andy offered you.

_Four, five, six._

You craved the stability, how even if your life was crumbling before you, you would always be able to find him in the rubble.

Seven, eight, nine.

He wasn't your sole motivator to keep going, but he definitely helped.

Ten—

"Hey there.”

Uncharacteristically perfect timing.

You pulled your attention away from the clock on the wall to catch your first glimpse of him for the day. For the first time since you’d met him, he was wearing a hat, a black baseball cap with some logo on it you didn't recognize. His hair was tied back into a bun. Though he had his attempts at being stylish from time to time, today was not one of them, his zip-up hoodie and jeans making it evident that today was not a day where he felt like trying. Maybe he was having as crappy of a day as you were. Just in case he was, you greeted him with more enthusiasm in your voice than usual.

“Hi! How's it going?”

“Pretty alright, actually,” he started, before continuing his sentence with a question that seemed to give you a headache simply by hearing it. “How are you?”

You sighed before you spoke, grimacing just at the thought of your emotions.

“I am so stressed that talking about how stressed I am will only make me more stressed. I need a change of pace. And topic.”

He picked up what you were putting down immediately, something that had become almost like second nature to him. A good distraction.

“There was something I’ve been meaning to ask you, now that you've reminded me.”

Oh no.

The thoughts of what he could possibly have to ask you began to cloud your mind, and some of the various possibilities made your heart beat much faster than it should. When he started so say something again, there was a hint of nervousness in his voice. Unusual for you, since you’d grown so accustomed to him being more confident in your presence, but you let him speak.

“So… ehm… my birthday’s coming up in a couple of weeks. To celebrate, some of my friends and I are gonna go to the pub and I was wondering if you'd like to come along.”

To say you were relieved was an understatement. The wide smile on your face was an answer in itself, but you responded anyway.

“Andy, I’d love to.”

“Great! Grand. I’ll mark you down as saying ‘yes’.”

“There’s no way I’d say no. Wouldn't miss it for the world.”

A smile, almost the same as your own, grew on his lips.

“By the way, this will be a genuine get-together. You’ll get to meet some of my other friends, as well.”

You feigned shock.

“So it's not just me and this Alex fellow you talk about?”

“No. Contrary to popular belief, I do have more than just two friends.”

You both let out your own laughs, almost in unison with one another. To be joking around with someone you trusted and kept so close… for a moment, it helped you believe everything was alright.

“I’m excited to celebrate with everyone,” you said, sincerity returning to your tone. “Get ready for a present for the ages. For the history books, even.”

He shook his head in denial, stopping your excitement in its tracks.

“Y/N, you don't have to get me anything . I’m a grown man, I’ll live if I don't get a birthday present.”

“Well, I’m a grown woman and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't get you anything. So let me-”

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of the bell above the door ringing.

You peeked behind him at who had just walked in. You had to look down to meet her gaze, and when you realized you recognized her weathered face, you smiled.

“Violet! Great to see you! I’ll be right with you.”

Andy tilted his head at your exclamation.

“Violet?”

“Remember when I said you were tied for the title of my favorite customer with a little old lady? I wasn't joking. Meet your competitor.”

You watched as he looked over his shoulder, his head turning to be met with a small, older woman with gray hair and possibly the warmest smile you’d ever seen. Clutching onto purse with one hand like her life depended on it, she gave him a small wave.

“I think I’ll shut myself up for now. You have actual clients to get to.”

“Alright. I’ll come by your work tomorrow. Oh, and about your birthday. Just text me the time and the address and I’ll be there. With an amazing present because you can't stop me.”

A small smile, the kind that barely showed his teeth, spread across his face.

“Thank you. I will see you then.”

He waved goodbye, and you could’ve sworn you saw ink smudged on the side of his hands.

Both of you watched as he left, though with different intentions behind your gazes. You pulled your eyes away when he left, almost afraid to keep your gaze on him. Violet's eyes, however, seemed to linger, from shock more than anything else. Once he was out of both of your fields of vision, you returned to facing each other.

Violet had become part of your routine, and you slowly became part of each other's lives. Every time she came in, she talked to you about anything on her mind. Yet for the chatterbox that she was, she managed to be an enigma for you. She came in monthly, on the first day of the month, always ordering flowers as a centerpiece for when her “group of ladies” came around. You couldn't tell if she was in a book club or a coven, but neither answer would surprise you. In as sweet a tone as ever, she initiated your conversation.

“I’ve been here a thousand times, but I don't think I’ve ever seen that man before. Who was that?”

“Oh, that's Andy. He's my…”

You couldn't quite find the words to complete that sentence. Andy was your friend, obviously, but the word felt so odd, almost bitter on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it. To save yourself any pain, you tiptoed around it.

“He works at the tattoo parlor a few blocks away. He visits me sometimes.”

“He seems like such a sweet young man.”

“He is! He really is.” You nodded.

Violet, despite her years of living and likely unlimited wisdom, found nothing wrong with her next sentence.

“I don't mean to pry, but I had no idea you were dating someone! How long have you two been together?"

Your eyes widened so much you were afraid they would pop out of your skull. What in the world could have made her ask that? Why did your palms get so clammy? Had someone turned up the heat?

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “No, no, no. Andrew and I… we aren't dating. We're just friends.”

The older woman raised a quizzical brow, as if she didn't believe you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Violet. I’d know if I was in a relationship.”

“Then, is he sure?”

“He's sure. too. We're not dating. We're friends. Friends.”

Were you trying to convince her or yourself?

She shook her head, accompanied by a tsk, tsk, tsk.

“What is it?”

“Dear, I’ve been around for… I’m not even sure how many years. I know a look filled with love when I see it. And the way that boy looks at you is the same look I’ve seen in loves that last lifetimes. It's the same look my wife gives me every single day. One of you should do something about that look.”

Her thorough analysis left you stunned. You attempted to put the pieces together in your brain, trying to mask your confusion as you did so.

“I’d never noticed that before.”

“Youth is wasted on the young. What’s the point of eyesight if you're not going to use it?”

You chuckled at that, though you also used it as a way to ignore the truth behind the statement. Did he look at you a certain way? Were you so deep into your oblivion that you just never noticed before? Or so deep into your own infatuation, too busy staring at him through your own eyes, to pay attention to how you might look through his? With all your newfound. overthinking all you could do was reply with a small, genuine smile.

“Thank you for that. I appreciate the advice.”

Violet was capricious in her conversation, easily distracted if you could get her back on the right track. In this moment, you utilized her fickleness to steer her back on track. Or at least, get the conversation back on the track you were comfortable with.

“Do you have a bouquet request?”

She thought for a moment, giving you a slow nod before she verbalized her answer.

“Well, it is starting to be spring time, and the girls and I just finished reading a Jane Austen novel, so love is in the air. Maybe focus on pink. I’ll let you handle the rest. I’ll be back later on to pick it up."

She placed the same vase she used monthly on the counter. It bounced back and forth between you two, exchanged each time you created a new arrangement. The only thing that changed was the color of the bow on the exterior.

“Sounds like a plan. Have a lovely day.”

“You too, dear.”

One last warm smile crossed her face before she went to leave. She shuffled her way out the door, leaving you room to get started.

Violet’s lenient instructions were perfect; it gave you a guideline, but mostly the creative control was in your hands. The only thing you had to keep in mind was pink.

The first idea your mind went to was pink camellias. They were in season, and with spring on the horizon, they were perfect. And you couldn't turn down adding them in when their meaning was so poetic. Longing for you. It tugged at your heartstrings just to think about it — how people from hundreds of years ago felt the same emotions, the same deep want or need for a person, as people do today. A feeling so strong they couldn't put it in words, or didn't trust themselves to say it. So they let a flower take its place.

Pink camellias had to be the focus.

Using the vase Violet had left behind, you worked the rest of your suggestions, mixing and matching until both beauty and semantics aligned. Pink roses, perfect happiness. Magenta zinnia, lasting affection. Mix in some white carnations for sweetness and innocence to break it up, and it was finished. The ladies were sure to love it, whether they were casting a spell or reading Jane Eyre.

For the first time in a few days, you wanted to feel calm. You had been too many things going on in your life for you to focus on being present.

There was so much stress looming over you recently. You were unsure just how much longer you would have your place of work. Your family and your friends all seemingly wanted you to be more ahead in your life than you were. You had a huge, almost debilitating crush on Andy, and he probably didn't reciprocate.

Andy. He had been there for you whenever you need to talk about all that was on your mind, his kindness never wavering. Even though he was receptive to you, there was still a sense of guilt for spilling your guts to him like that. You were there for him as well, of course, though he didn't have as many complaints about his daily life as you did. All his kindness and his attention only made you like him even more, only making you more nervous and stressed about liking him. It was a downward spiral, and an exceedingly dizzying one at that.

The flower shop was the only refuge you could have. When you weren't in a state of worry over orders or foreclosure, it was the part of your day that provided you the most comfort. You had the opportunity to make these beautiful works and showcase your creativity and here you were, taking it for granted. You needed to ground yourself, to take a breather, to be in the moment.

So in your moment of desperation, you turned to your flowers for comfort.

Being so exposed to the scent of the flowers every day for years meant you got used to them over time. You slowly got accustomed until you eventually couldn't even detect the unique aroma of your workplace.

You took a pause, and leaning over the arrangement, you took a deep breath.

You had literally stopped to smell the roses.

The more shocking part was that it worked. You had successfully grounded yourself by stopping to appreciate your surroundings. Surely that had to be a metaphor for something.

You were snapped out of your tranquility. Of course you were.

You heard a voice, slightly judgmental and maybe a bit concerned, from the other side of the room.

“What was that?”

You perked up at the sound of the bell above the door, and quickly pulled yourself away from the flowers.

“Nothing! How can I help you?”

[onceinablueberrymoon]

the name game | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

scenario: pregnant!reader is overdue and put on bedrest. you quickly grow bored and try to find ways to stay entertained, one of which involves a certain former player.  setting: a few months after the events of season 1; set shortly after i spy. for added context, please read part 1, part 2, and part 3 first! word count: 1.9k warnings: pregnant!reader; deception; practically taunting gihun (poor guy); lots of fluff; reader and salesman work for the games; mentions of birth; no use of y/n; second person POV notes: sorry this took so long, this was more difficult to write than i first imagined. everything after this part will take place in season 2, so it shouldn’t take as long :) also, i felt so bad for gi-hun while writing this lol. as always, please enjoy! borders by @enchanthings-a!

Any day now.

That’s what the doctors told you two weeks ago. 

Ever since you passed your due date, your husband had basically confined you to bedrest. He didn’t want you walking out and about in such a vulnerable state. To top it off, it just so happened that recruitment had finished for the 35th Games, meaning that he could stay home to care for you. Your doting husband waited on you hand and foot, bringing you anything and everything you craved. Even so, he would have to leave the apartment for hours at a time, whether it be to buy groceries or to take care of some business for the Frontman. When the salesman wasn’t there, boredom quickly became your best friend.

Since you had so much time on your hands, you decided to do a deep dive into Seong Gi-hun. While you had previously done research on the man that considered you a friend, you realized you didn’t know too much about his recent life, other than the fact he was lonely and vengeful towards the Games. 

You retrieved your work laptop from your desk and settled on the bed against the headboard. A sharp kick from the baby caused you to flinch. You couldn’t wait to be done with your pregnancy. 

Opening the Games’ database of players, you browsed through the files until you found what you were looking for: List of Players, 2020. You clicked the folder, which had profiles of the players from the year Gi-hun won. Your eyes scanned the numbers before eventually arriving on 067.

Kang Sae-byeok. 

Browsing through her profile, one detail caught your eye. 

“How did Gi-hun know someone from North Korea?” You whispered to yourself. 

While it wasn’t uncommon for North Koreans in debt to make their way into the Games, they usually didn’t have close allies. You remembered how distraught Gi-hun had been when 218 had stabbed her in the neck. Gi-hun had also told you how he had helped Sae-byeok’s younger brother afterwards by entrusting him to his childhood friend’s mother. But you were baffled as to why he would go to such lengths for someone he just met. 

You closed Sae-byeok’s profile and scrolled down to click another number. 

218. 

“Cho Sang-woo.” You muttered under your breath. You remembered him from the final game against Gi-hun, and that the two seemed to be closer than just competitors fighting in a match to the death. 

Scrolling down, you noticed that he had graduated from Seoul National University. Then it clicked. Gi-hun had once mentioned a childhood friend who had attended that school in one of his many stories, but you had forgotten his name.

You grimaced. With that background, he must have screwed up big-time to have landed in that much debt. When you saw that he put up his mother’s shop as collateral for his loans, you almost pitied the man. Clearly, he was desperate.

The sound of the front door opening and closing interrupted your thoughts. Peering through the open doorway of your bedroom, you tried to get a glimpse of your husband and whatever goodies he bought you. Today’s craving was pastries from the local bakery, which he had promised to get on his way back.

“I’m home,” he called from the foyer. He soon entered your field of vision, holding his briefcase in one hand and your bag of treats in the other. You cheered, clapping your hands. He came to your bedside to place a kiss on your head, then another on your bump. 

You smiled, rubbing your stomach gently. Another kick. “Mini’s active today.” 

While you decided not to know the sex of the baby until they were born, you still chose names for your child: Min-seok for a boy, and Min-seo for a girl. Regardless of gender, you had affectionately nicknamed the baby “Mini”. Your husband wasn’t the keenest on the idea of nicknames in general, but seeing you happy made his heart swell.

“What were you doing while I was gone?” He glanced at your computer screen. 

“Trying not to die of boredom. Do you know if Gi-hun was close to that North Korean girl before the games? A…” You looked back at your notes. “A Kang Sae-byeok?” Your husband shook his head. 

“He took her brother out of an orphanage to leave him with 218’s mother. What a hero,” you mused. “Speaking of which, did you know that 218 was Gi-hun’s childhood friend?” Again, your husband shook his head.

You continued, “Cho Sang-woo, top of his class at SNU. Yet he still ended up in crippling debt.” Your husband nodded. “It’s not surprising, I suppose. They came from the same place, after all.”

Suddenly, your cellphone rang. It was Gi-hun.

“Why would 456 call you?” Your husband asked curiously. You shrugged. “He told me that he would update me on the investigation.”  

Answering the call, you put Gi-hun on speakerphone.

“Hello? Are you there?” He called your name. 

“Any news?” You asked.

“Not yet, but Mr. Kim thinks he has a lead. One of his men received a suspicious business card, but the phone number was out of service.” You could hear him sigh. 

Then, an idea popped into your head.

“Gi-hun-ssi, could I get your opinion on something?” Your tone was innocent, which made your husband turned to you, his eyes wide. Nothing good ever came of you feigning innocence.

“So my husband and I were thinking of names.” You spoke casually. “What do you think about ‘No-eul’ for a girl? I know ‘sunset’ is kind of cliché and all but it’s so pretty… Although if the baby’s born at dawn, perhaps ‘Sae-byeok’ fits better instead?” You could hear Gi-hun’s breath hitch on the other line. Your husband let out a small chuckle.

You paid him no mind, continuing on with your rambling as if nothing happened. 

“That is, if the baby is even a girl at all. Maybe it’s a boy. My husband wanted to wait until the baby’s born. Everything’s a game to him.” You paused. 

‘Damn,’ you thought, ‘I hope Gi-hun didn’t pick up on that.’ 

He said nothing. 

“Anyway,” you shook it off. “What do you think?” It took a few moments for Gi-hun’s voice to crackle through the speaker. 

“I… I think either is nice.” Silence. “I once had a friend named Sae-byeok… It’s a beautiful name.” His voice was strained. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he was trying not to cry.

“Oh, really? That makes it even more special. I’ll keep that in mind.” You replied sagely. “If the baby’s a boy, my husband suggested naming him after his uncle.”

Your husband raised his eyebrows, looking at you expectantly. You took a deep breath. This was going to hurt. 

“…Do you know if the name ‘Sang-woo’ is popular nowadays?” 

Almost immediately, sobs began pouring out from your phone’s speakers. 

“Gi-hun-ssi?” Your voice was laced with concern. “Gi-hun-ssi, are you alright? Did something happen?” 

“I-I’m fine. I have to go. P-please let me know what name you choose.” The line went dead.

Your husband let out a low whistle. “I’m impressed. You’re more cruel than I thought.” You giggled, blowing him a kiss. He climbed in bed to sit next to you, and you curled up into his side as best you could. He rested a hand on your stomach like he always did before peppering your neck with kisses. You chuckled. He truly loved when your dark side came out. 

After the initial rush of excitement wore off, you started to feel a bit bad for Gi-hun. His reaction was more intense than you expected. Perhaps you took it too far.

Your husband’s lips on yours snapped you out of your thoughts. Then, as if sensing your anxiety, he smiled softly.

“Don’t worry. I doubt 456 will make the connection. It was just a coincidence.” 

You nodded. It was just a big coincidence — both names were common enough. And besides, Gi-hun had no reason to think you and the salesman were connected. For all he knew, your husband worked for Samsung.

You rested your head on your husband’s shoulder and he placed a kiss on your forehead. You soon dozed off, the pastry cravings (temporarily) forgotten.

A pang in your belly woke you up from your slumber. While you were generally uncomfortable all the time for the past couple months, you were never in pain. This was different. Your hand flung to clutch your bump and you took a deep breath to ride out the pain, which soon ended. But that did little to ease your concerns. 

‘Was that a contraction?’ You wondered. You had had false contractions recently but were told not to worry. How were you supposed to know what real ones were like?

A sharp kick to your side. Strong enough to wake your husband whose hand had slightly slipped down your belly.

“Are you alright?” He asked, glancing at your distressed face.

“I… I think the baby might be coming.” You took a deep breath, the weight of your words crashing down.

The moments that followed were a blur. You vaguely remembered your husband helping you out of bed and the cramped drive to the hospital. After spending hours in agonizing labour, you gave a final push, and your baby had arrived. Their shrill cries did little to comfort you – you just wanted to hold them. The nurse soon placed the baby on your chest and maneuvered your arms to hold them properly.

The world around you seemed to fade away, your focus solely on the tiny newborn you were holding. Distantly, you heard someone say, “It’s a boy.”

Your husband kissed your cheek and murmured, “You did so well.” You let out a breathless chuckle, tears welling in your eyes.

As your son opened his eyes, you let out a little gasp. 

“He looks just like you, don’t you think? His eyes are the same as yours.” While his features were still scrunched up, it was clear that he was your husband’s son. 

You carefully passed your son into your husband’s waiting arms, and you wished you had your phone on you so you could take a picture. The difference in your husband was striking – his usual cold and stoic recruiter persona had disappeared and was replaced with this warm, calming presence. You almost cried when your husband kissed the top of your son’s head. 

Even though he never said anything, you knew he worried about becoming a father. Your husband didn’t talk about his own father, but from what you gathered, he hadn’t been a good one.

A nurse soon came with the birth certificate. “Do you have a name?”

You looked at your husband, who had since passed your son back to you. A sly grin formed on your face. 

“So, Sang-woo?” Your husband laughed, shaking his head. 

You turned to smile at the nurse, who was visibly confused. “His name is Min-seok.” She nodded and scribbled the name down before leaving the room. 

The three of you were left in comfortable silence, with Min-seok stirring every so often in your arms. Soon after, your exhaustion caught up with you, and you handed him off to your husband so you could get some well-deserved rest. You watched your son snuggle into his father’s arms, a smile gracing your face as you drifted off to sleep. 

tags: @delfinadolphin

[rosesonbreeze]

"No one puts baby in the corner." A beat, then a shrug of admission. "Fine, no one puts Tony Huang up against an immigration officer and expect him to lose." Because Anna may smile and try to be convincing, but there's no doubt her appearance is built on the support of others. One who had the luxury and formidability to be forces of nature, where Anna could not. "And lucky for you, we were flying into the city." Partially because Anna promised to pay for any speeding tickets on the way. But more on that later.

After taking Aiden in (at least, at first blush), she's finally allowed a breathe. An opportunity to take in their surroundings; with vibrant colors and grandiose centerpieces. It's as if the posh threw up all over the place. It impressed her when she was younger. All these seemingly impressive people, with their big titles and fat cheques. Yet all that glitter isn't gold, and she doesn't move from her place beside Aiden. "It's less impressive when you remember; they do these things to fill up their nights." Anna can't act holier-than-thou when social structures make her rich and famous. But it stops her from gushing and awwing, or rushing to play the role of sycopahant.

A mellow laugh, like she can't believe he'd say that. Anna knows she looks good, all things considering. But there's obvious markers that its been a rush, yet Aiden's determined to see only the best parts. Not the black-and-white pattern of her shoes or the dampness of her hair. "You would say that." Blushing, she adds; "Thank you." Said from the heart, as her eyes drift to the cufflinks. "Oh my God, look at those." It's the perfect level of dazzling and subdued, left and right, Aiden and Anna. "If I had more time, I'd have them customize Team Ainna cufflinks too." Maybe for the next event.

She almost breezes past it, his comment unnoticed, until Anna hears it again. "Nuts?" A snort, and her arms are instantly around his waist. Taking him into her arms, like she's been dying to all evening. The onlookers be damned. "Unless they're yours, I don't want them." Two can play that game, and sometimes she and Aiden have the humor of prepubescent teenagers. "Have you met anyone interesting, at least?" So far, Aiden doesn't smell of socialite perfume, so she can cross cougars off his list of new acquaintances. Looking up, she tilts her head, a 'of-course' expression on her face.

"I would go to the moon and back for you." Aiden should know by now - there's no limits to what she'll do for the things that matter.

“That was a long flight.” Not to mention another crazy project that had her working from coast-to-coast in under two weeks. “—And then I figured customs and immigration might’ve done you in.” Say what you will about Heathrow being a leader in airport facilities; it’s still filled with grumps that could put Aiden to shame. “—So I mean—” he really doesn’t know what else to say, but between the airy laughter she pulls out of him and the playful half-nod, half-shake of his head, “—yeah.” Understatement of the year.

But also, he’s definitely not complaining. Quite the opposite.

If Anna’s sudden appearance has him frozen in utter shock, then her words have the exact opposite effect, melting away every bit of bad that’s built up throughout the evening. The anxieties, the annoyance. Even the mild heartburn from eating the weird slop they’d named ‘dessert,’ despite setting it on fire. He takes to her presence like a plant does sunlight, reveling in warm comfort and blooming under the rays of her inspection. By the end of it all, one would think that he’d just broken the record for a lap around the pitch. The faint pink on his cheeks only adds to the effect.

“You’re always a ten to me.” He isn’t saying it just to say it. Anna possesses beauty in its most obvious forms, with a prize-winning natural smile and a relentless charm about her. It’s part of what makes her successful— how she seamlessly blends into every theme and still strikes the hearts of her audience, sets herself apart in a way that makes everyone, everything, the background. Then there are the other ways that she attracts him — the more important stuff — the details that the spotlight ends up leaving in the shadows. Beginning with her heart and ending with her endless devotion. Smitten. Aiden’s terribly, totally smitten.

He has to refocus before she notices that he’s staring.

“I, uh— I gotta say, I don’t think we’re gonna have much luck with the food. I’ve been scoping out the place—” like a true, tried and tested introvert, “—and I think the best you’ll find are the nuts in my pocket.” A beat passes. “Actual nuts. Cashews. Not— you know.” Not to crack a dirty joke in the middle of a very fancy, very high-budget occasion… But he knows her. Knows them. And speaking of, “—Oh!” he brings his hands up to shoulder-height, showing off the new silver gracing his cuffs. “Check it out. I got a couple compliments on ‘em.”

Leave it to Aiden to be more enthusiastic about small things when there were two chart-topping musicians on-stage a few hours ago. Priorities will be priorities, however, and he won’t be told otherwise. Caught up in his eagerness, he scoots closer and rests a hand on her hip, telling her, “Thank you for coming.” Because really, there’s no combination of words that could capture the depth with which he feels, just seeing her— much less being graced by her generosity and thoughtfulness all day.

[heretherebedork]

Hi Francis,

I, for one, am getting a bit tired of hearing so much about green flags lately. 😂 So, can you share your top 5 red flags that you can't help but to love? I love falling for a fictional red flag. ☺️

Thanks! Love you. ❤️

lol, hey, why not? Let's see if I've got five... probably no gifs for this one, though! But also I am so picky about, like, red flags versus just 'flawed characters with yellow flags' so expect this list to be a bit... odd.

Day from Love Syndrome III tops this list for me. He is everything wrong in this world and with romance and the show knew it and the show said 'yeah, fine, but Itt likes it and you can't argue with that' and I love it.

Ziao Chin Teng from HIStory: Obsessed is an obsessive bully who lies about having amnesia and does not stop at anything in the new timeline let alone the original timeline where his lying and lack of communication drove his partner to run into traffic. This man is the worst and I do still love him.

Yi from Cutie Pie and Naughty Babe and I just have a soft spot for this poor little rich boy asshole with trauma and bad communication and just... oh, he is red but he's still fine and he's doing his best his best just happens to suck.

Kang YoHan from The Devil Judge because he is, in fact, nothing but a red flag and that's why we love him. He might be doing it for the right reason but he's also pushing every limit of morality to do it and he won't stop until he wins.

Keito from Happy of the End is the definition of a red flag characters in a show made to show you that he is a red flag and I adore him on all levels, absolutely every last one, he is deeply fucked up and traumatized and he is screaming internally at all times and he is awful but he is also exactly the person Chihiro needed to bring out his light and they saved each other, in the end.

Bonus mention:

Minato from Minato Coin Laundry. Look me in the eye and tell me he's not a red flag. This man can barely accept his own sexuality, struggles to face any form of affection, cannot actively let himself want things and will always push people away.

Honestly, I was writing this and realized that despite all of this I still can't come up with a single Jittirain characters to put on this list because they're all red flags and I hate most of them by the end (at the least the semes) and the only real red flag MAME character I could put on this list would be Tin and I might like him but he's not, like, one of my super loved characters.

[lloydfrontera]

male authors, writing m/m friendships: their bond will develop through hundreds of chapters, we will get to see each stage of their budding relationship, they'll constantly be in each other thoughts, their first instinct will always be to reach for the other, their first worry will always be the other's safety, they'll spend every minute of the day together, they'll be complete opposites and yet perfectly compliment each other, they will put everything they ever loved in risk just to keep the other safe, they will give their life without hesitation to save the other's, they will fight and argue and tease and joke around but they will always be at each other's side at the end of the day, they will plan to spend the rest of their lives together, sharing the happy moments and the hard times, the idea of being without the other being unthinkable, the thought of being always together coming naturally, as easy as breathing.

the same male authors, writing m/f romance: she'll like,, smile once at him and he'll start thinking of marrying her and having children with her idk

[bsotted]

ok well. unfortunate news: sometimes ur niche is so niche u've already niched the niche. this is exactly the same as the feeling of hitting the end of ur ship tag in ao3 🥲

*edit: sorry i accidentally named like every character ever in the tags so ppl are Seeing this post who dont have the benefit of so much as a single crumb of context. if i accidentally namedropped ur blorbo its bc of this post:

anyway. i was excited for recs bc i also enjoy this genre of fictional character. unfortunately as above the niche is niched, it turns out. at least for me, content enjoyer georg, who has apparently already seen or read everything anyone else has already seen or read except for a small handful of specific media properties that i do not wish to see or read for various personal reasons and also not literally everything ever... just the same things as everyone else has already seen and read... u get the idea. ok thnks 👍🏻

[asurrogateblog]

my most lukewarm headcanon about the wall is that pink is a stage-name and his real name is roger floyd because we already know his character is an amalgam of both roger waters and roger barrett so why wouldn't it be

[skrunksthatwunk]

stole this chart from @asubakaa and spent wayyy too much time making my own so. yeah. also i did 6 instead of 5 bc i know no restraint

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

Okay sooo...in relation to my last post, which I will try and not verbatim, I am considering having this blog still be its own thing for Cars and all that jazz, still serving as my 'main' blog. And then having a separate blog(ONE. JUST ONE.) Where I put alllll my nonsensical ramblings or gushing or whatnot over other characters there. So it will be two blogs total. Just this one serving the same purpose it always has, and then a second one that will just be a jambalaya of "Oh I wonder what Kane has dug up in the mines this time. Let's go find out!"

How I am going to merge everything from my other blogs, I'm....not too sure. Since it'll all be just one big bang of different fandoms that'll sway a lot from how much I am or amn't fixated on them, I probably won't go too crazy with making different links to things like my S/Is story with them or whatnot, and I will just cut it all down to one carrd so there's not like five different ones to read through.

I think I will keep the other blogs simply as archives, if you will, just because sometimes I like to look back at myself losing my own mind. But I won't post from those blogs anymore, they will simply just be...floating around.