#whenever i try to watch something else i get mad and immediately go back to watching the movies like what 😭😭

[astralnymphh]

WELL. F MY LIFE THEN. JUST F IT. now i have to indulge in a commentary reblog.. we know i only do this with masterpieces such as the one i'm about to ramble under.. here we go! gracie has gone and done it again.. my descent to madness is evident in each comment made

Her bed was made.  That’s the first thing you noticed when you crept into her space.

ugh this eerie symbolism.. like it's such a simple thing (AESTRA TRY NOT TO BE INFATUATED WITH SIMPLICITY CHALLENGE) but at this time and in this story, it digs a deeper meaning. just the observation of aberration and shiftings within a room someone has been rotting in. it curdles in the spine quite hauntingly. very nicely done!!!

After walking into that room in the ski lodge and seeing her and Joel bloodied and battered, you cannot get the metallic taste to go away. Everything you ate tasted like it.

this too!! like hello?? memories stippling so hard into one that it affects the other senses.. i can, like, feel the torment beaming off this little paragraph; the torture of a vision, and now an abnormal taste no one should know. jesus..

She finally changed out of the socks that were partially soaked with blood.

THIS!! JUST LIKE THE FIRST PARAGRAPH! it's so simple but put so oddly that it creates this whole other background.. it's like a storm slowly brewing. it does accentuate and ascend to ellie deciding that she wants revenge (Hah. Like the band), because she is finally lifting herself from the rot that leeched. nothing can motivate a person besides an idea. a desperate, destructive idea.

It’s like a release that you have been waiting for. She starts to cry, the air escaping her lungs as she heaves to let out another sob.

whenever i hear that someone is releasing what they've "bottled up" i tend to view it as a purely emotional thing and not a physical thing that you see besides crying. but it's everything that makes up the cry. the air, the breath, the upwards movement of extrication, the squeezing of warmth in your eyes. truly an art in itself to nail crying in a written form. makes ellie feel so much more human.

She grips onto you like you're the axis to keep her world spinning.

jesus cunt.. jiminy christmas.. what else am i supposed to say but JESUSSSS.. POETRY..

Her malicious and unhinged behavior was beginning to frighten you a bit.

THIS IS SO REAL THO?? IT JUST IS?? i'm so finitely sure this is a part of what dina felt at times. like, oh my god. to not watch your lover transform—but to watch your lover transformed, and to have missed this change in the blink of an eye. when had this monstrosity begun, and how deep does it go? thank you gracie for having such a blessedly perfect understanding of ellie from a lover's perspective!!

You watched her twist it and rip it out the side, their blood splattering all over the wall. When the man collapsed, she simply tucked her weapon into her sheath and kept moving. It was so brutal and unnecessary, but she kept telling you they deserved it.

same as this one. to see this twisting of a woman, and understand immediately that she is wrong; she is not correct nor incorrect, but she is in the tooth too deep, rotting it to a point of loss, what she needs the least. she wants to find and serve justice, but she will only drive it away. you can't push hard for anything.

“Els?” You snap her out of her trance-like daze. She has not said anything in about an hour. Your voice is soft and so is your touch on her shoulder. You want to try to pick her brain, something you have been unsuccessful at doing the last couple of weeks. She winces.  “Yeah?” She utters. A bit of phlegm in the back of her throat makes her sound hoarse.

AGAIN. WITH MAKING ELLIE A HUMAN. YOU DO IT TOO WELL I CAN'T ACTUALLY FATHOM ANY OF THIS.

You wished you could read her mind. It would make your relationship with her way easier. After two years, you would think she would be better about sharing her feelings, but she mostly left you to interpret her body language.

canon relationship with tlouuniverse!ellie good god (By Korn).. something about this insecure, or in better words, inherent depiction of ellie makes me love her more. i think ellie would love to tell her girlfriend everything that runs on in her mind. i think it always sits in the base of her throat. but, she can't. there is no reason. she just can't. I LOVE YOU GRACIE.

“I think we need to surprise them at night,” She states, her voice a bit robotic. You just bite the inside of your lip and nod. She was making all the plans, you just had to go along with it.

more canon behaviour breuh.. literally this happened right after reader tried to get in touch with that hidden inside, that true ellie. yet, it was masked over. this alludes so well to a metaphor of possession, which.. they aren't always spiritual. i would even argue that possessions were never meant to be. i think these possessions that come from within, from a bud of despondency, or rage, are true possessions that happen often. it's disgusting to see the one you love taken by it. ergo, Good Job!!!!

You never saw her eyes change when she took a life.

i don't even need to say anything at this point. it speaks for itself.

She heaves and you know tears are spilling from those beautiful green eyes.

"AND YOU KNOW TEARS ARE SPILLING FROM THOSE BEAUTIFUL GREEN EYES." I REPEAT. "AND YOU KNOW TEARS ARE SPILLING FROM THOSE BEAUTIFUL GREEN EYES." UGHHHH I'M KILLING YOU IN YOUR SLEEP. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY. I'M ANGRY WITH INFATUATION.

Before you knew Ellie, you knew Joel. You did not understand their relationship, but you knew it was fractured. Joel never talked badly about her, only reminding everyone around him how proud he was of her. Whenever he caught you around the stables, he would ask if you were still hanging out with her. You would always blush and reply quickly, “Yes, of course”. He would smile and tell you how grateful he was to see she had a friend like you.

i love this too much.. joel proud father no matter what.. this adds such a layer to this little universe in this little fic.. i could hug that old man if he wasn't a. fictional and b. 6 feet under.

“How am I supposed to live with that?” She was hurting so badly. Her violent heart has finally had enough.  “You learn how to manage it.”

You stand up so you can face her. Her gaze has softened now and she almost looks like the same girl who confessed her feelings to you at the Harvest Festival two years ago. A little bit older, aged with the falling away of time, but still beautiful and vulnerable. Her green eyes sparkled differently, but your Ellie was still there somewhere.

Girl I'm killing myself in the middle of TjMaxx how do you write such beautiful things.. sabrina carpenter would arrest your Writing.. ugh

The silence tells you the answer but you just look over at Ellie. She has blood pouring out of her nose and it trickles down her neck.  “She got away.”

the one that got away.. stop because that song actually puts tears in my eyes. i will never ever get over this scene of ellie in-game and now. in fics. man you were right about this fic HURTINGGGGGGG.

Every time she would touch you in that way, she was meticulous and very generous. You would try to return the favor and she would shrivel up and tell you that she was okay. It made you feel some type of way, but after the fifth time it happened, you realized it was because she did not feel in tune with herself in that way.

broken ellie who is broken during sex.. most realistic depiction of sex with farm!ellie (from a fully canonical plot) that i've seen on this app. like omg it's so disgusting and heartbreaking to read.. stop this right neow..

You told her that she was beautiful every day. No matter what she was doing, or how she looked, whenever the thought entered your mind, you would say it out loud. Her response was always, “No, you.”

Alright.. you got me kickalicking my feet with this one HUEEHAUHHUEUHEA

She looks at you, tears already welling in her eyes.  “Babe…” You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. “Where are you going?”

NO.. GO BACK.. NO.. DON'T DO THIS.. BJORK HELP ME..NO..NO!!

“I thought I told you that I want to be alone.” And now she would be.

You sick and twisted bastard you're going to receive 100 kisses by post mail I hope you ENJOY YOUR HOLIDAYS and SIT WITH THIS and realize how great of a writer you are no matter how deep in the depths of listlessness or demotivation you are.. please continue writing for ellie oh y god

i bet on losing dogs

pairing: ellie williams x reader

post about palestine - please be aware and know who your content comes from. this post informs you about the tlou writers and creators, as well as how to help the Palestinian people.

description: a slow progression of how you lost ellie.

word count: 3.7k words

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader is in a relationship with ellie, only angst, small mentions of intimacy, descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, ellie is grieving big time, ellie trauma dumps, ellie gets hurt, reader is described to be scarred and disfigured after seattle, reader is scared of ellie, dark themes in general.

author’s note: just know this was sitting in my docs for a while cause I had a hard time sticking with the grief I felt writing it. I finished it a couple weeks ago and just kept rereading it. I can't keep looking at it anymore. have it. i'm sorry in advance.

Her bed was made. 

That’s the first thing you noticed when you crept into her space. The snow had been piled in front of the door, indicating that no one had come or left. Your boots dusted snow across her old oriental-looking rug. Her back was turned to you.

She looks so small. Her hair is greasy, tousled up in a small bun at the base of her head. She was wearing the same clothes you left her in the day before. 

“Els?”

She turns to you, not stunned, just a bit disoriented. Her eyebrows are furrowed the second her eyes meet yours.

“I thought I told you that I want to be alone.”

The statement crushes you. You inhale deeply, trying to relieve the heaviness on your chest. 

You shake your head, “I’m sorry, I can’t watch you rot in this room anymore.”

She's quick with her rebuttal. “If you would have listened, you wouldn’t have to watch. Just leave me alone.”

But you physically cannot. You have spent days pacing your house, thinking about her withering away in her detached garage. You try to sleep, but you know she’s not, so how could you? 

And you had this bitterness in your mouth all the time now. After walking into that room in the ski lodge and seeing her and Joel bloodied and battered, you cannot get the metallic taste to go away. Everything you ate tasted like it. 

“Ellie-“

“Please, I don’t want to talk.”

Her voice is shaky. You notice she’s picking at her cuticles again, they are red and irritated. She finally changed out of the socks that were partially soaked with blood. 

It had been three days since Joel was taken from her. 

You try to hold your ground, blinking back some tears that slip when she approaches you and takes your arm. She’s guiding you to the door, grabbing the handle. When the door creaks open, you snatch your arm away. You are trying to be patient, but this was the second time she was trying to throw you out. She had done the same to Maria and Tommy the day after Joel died.

“I thought you were fuckin’ dead, Ellie.”

You promised yourself you would not burden her with your emotions. But you could not help it anymore. 

“What?”

She shuts the door, letting more cold air seep into the frigid room. She shifts onto her other heel, crossing her arms. It’s a physical way of blocking out your emotions, a gesture that is so subtle and probably absent of intention. 

“I can’t lose you, too, okay?”

Her eyes finally find yours, “You’re not gonna-”

You reach out to her, pulling her hand out of the crook of her arm. “I am here, okay? I am right here.”

She uses the leverage of you grabbing her hand to reel you into a hug. As soon as your chin rests on her shoulder, she’s dead weight in your arms. It’s like a release that you have been waiting for. She starts to cry, the air escaping her lungs as she heaves to let out another sob. You just hold her, the anxiety of leaving her alone for the last three days now escaping you. You finally felt like you were doing something for her. 

She grips onto you like you're the axis to keep her world spinning. Her whole life depended on the feeling of your body around her. 

You sat with her for a whole day in silence. Not saying anything; just waiting for her to say the word. You knew what was next for Ellie.

She was going to get revenge. 

-

Your shirt was stained with blood and sweat. You told yourself the next department store you saw, you would hunt down a 20-year-old shirt to replace it. 

You were exhausted. You could hardly keep up with Ellie the last mile back to the theater. It was only the second day of trying to hunt down this crew Ellie was hell-bent on destroying. Two days in Seattle and you two have discovered a lot without having any initial leads when you arrived. 

And you did not fault her for being so aggressive, but after the things you saw today, you’re starting to wonder if this was really what she needs. Her malicious and unhinged behavior was beginning to frighten you a bit. 

It started when you entered an abandoned hotel. A couple of infected got taken down by your bullets, but when other non-infected people came running your way, you hesitated. You saw the looks of confusion on their faces when they saw you and Ellie. While you stood and held their gazes, Ellie raised her rifle and executed each one of them without even flinching. The shots were louder than you remember, echoing off the walls peeling of wallpaper. 

Then today, you both arrived at an old elementary school. You were caught up with holding off a couple of people in a long hallway. You yelled for Ellie to wait it out, wanting the people to charge you so you could take them out, but instead, she lit up the entire hallway. When the last person came running at her with a baseball bat, she dodged them and shoved her blade right into their necks. You watched her twist it and rip it out the side, their blood splattering all over the wall. When the man collapsed, she simply tucked her weapon into her sheath and kept moving. It was so brutal and unnecessary, but she kept telling you they deserved it. 

She found who she had been looking for. A girl named Nora. You were in charge of keeping watch while she got intel from her. You heard most of the conversation, but when you heard the sounds of metal clinging, you stepped away from the door. You had to resist the urge not to run in there and stop the torture, but your feet were stuck to the concrete. You did not move, you did not dare. 

She is now digging dirt and blood out of her fingernails with her blade, trying not to accidentally knick herself. Her auburn fringe covers her forehead, greasy from sweat. She is still covered in blood, but you two have not said much since you arrived back. 

She went too far and she knows it scared you. But frankly, she did not care. This was necessary. 

“Els?” You snap her out of her trance-like daze. She has not said anything in about an hour. Your voice is soft and so is your touch on her shoulder. You want to try to pick her brain, something you have been unsuccessful at doing the last couple of weeks.

She winces. 

“Yeah?” She utters. A bit of phlegm in the back of her throat makes her sound hoarse. 

“Can you please let me check on you? Just take off your coat.”

Your hand is still on her shoulder. She does not respond or move, so you take it as she’s submitting to your request. You grab the collar of her rain jacket and slowly start to drag it down her shoulder. She’s still not saying anything. 

You wished you could read her mind. It would make your relationship with her way easier. After two years, you would think she would be better about sharing her feelings, but she mostly left you to interpret her body language. You got good at reading it for a while. But then Joel died. And now she is a silent and bitter ball of rage. Anything you thought you knew about her has fallen to the wayside. 

You slowly take off her layers of clothing, being sure to avoid touching the wounds that have made her skin their new home. 

The one on her shoulder was pretty bad, you think to yourself, she better let me stitch her up. 

“I think we need to surprise them at night,” She states, her voice a bit robotic. You just bite the inside of your lip and nod. She was making all the plans, you just had to go along with it.

“Okay,” You whisper, grabbing a medical kit nearby. You made sure to pack it back in Jackson and it came in handy more than once already.

“Do you even want to know what happened earlier?”

Your heart sinks. You do not want to know what happened. You knew she got what she needed from the girl, but you truly did not know if you wanted to hear the details. The idea that Ellie did more than just beat her makes you physically sick. If she could do that to a stranger, what was she going to do when she got her hands on her? You were not innocent in the chase. But your heart always skipped when you had to pull your trigger at another human being. It was not easy to watch life leave someone’s eyes. But for Ellie it was different. She acted like they were just things. Inanimate objects that needed to be pushed out of the way. You never saw her eyes change when she took a life. 

You grab the needle from the med kit and a nearby lighter before settling on the couch beside Ellie. Her shoulder blade is covered by all the blood creating new dark maroon freckles. 

You tilt her shoulder back to better look at it before finally responding. 

“Didn’t think you wanted to talk about it.”

You know that’s not the answer she wanted. Her shoulders fall forward and she places her face in her hands. She lets out a long sigh, disregarding you as you try to patch her up. She quickly turns around to look at you. 

Her eyes are dark, her lips pursed. 

“I got her to talk. She paid with her life.”

You want to see your Ellie, but whoever sits before you is a stranger. 

You did not want to think about Ellie killing a girl by violently beating her. It seemed so personal and evil. You decide there’s no answer worth saying to her confession, so you just turn her back around and begin your slow, tedious stitching.

Once you finish off the last suture, you stand and bring over a bowl filled with rainwater the night before. You were going to use it for drinking, but you decide it’s better to use it to clean around Ellie’s battered body.

You grab a rag from your pack and dip it in the chilled water. You ring it out and bring it to your stitch work. She is shaking now, but you are so scared to hold her in your arms. 

“The night before Joel… we got into that big fight. I was so fuckin’ mad at him. I went to his house to confront him again.”

She heaves and you know tears are spilling from those beautiful green eyes. “Ellie-“

“I told him I was going to try to forgive him for all the shit he did. I should’ve…” 

You drop the red-stained cloth into the bowl and pull her back into your chest. She’s sobbing, her entire body shaking as you finally accept her into your space. 

Before you knew Ellie, you knew Joel. You did not understand their relationship, but you knew it was fractured. Joel never talked badly about her, only reminding everyone around him how proud he was of her. Whenever he caught you around the stables, he would ask if you were still hanging out with her. You would always blush and reply quickly, “Yes, of course”. He would smile and tell you how grateful he was to see she had a friend like you. 

You loved Ellie. You loved her with every fiber of your being. She helped you through a lot of your grief when you arrived in Jackson. She held you through countless nights when you cried about losing your dad. You never thought you would have to do the same for her. Everyone, including you, thought Joel Miller was indestructible. 

“Ellie, how were you supposed to know?” You ask softly before gently pressing a kiss in the middle of her back. You had never kissed her there before.

“How am I supposed to live with that?”

She was hurting so badly. Her violent heart has finally had enough. 

“You learn how to manage it.”

It was the only way you pulled through. Grief is love expressing itself through other means. When you lost your dad, it was not violent. He was sick and his body was so beaten down, he had no chance of surviving the disease taking over his body. Your grief was managed by reminding yourself that you had to keep living for him because if not, you would be disappointing him. You did not know if heaven was real, but you did believe in energy, and you felt him sometimes especially when you needed him the most. 

Ellie’s grief was different. It was forceful and unyielding. She could not let the hatred go and you did not particularly blame her. She watched Joel get beaten so badly that his face was almost unrecognizable. She had to watch a random woman take him away from her, forever. You could not compare your grief, but you did know that with time, she would know how to better manage it. She just could not get over the contempt for others who wronged her. It was embedded within her to seek out retribution. 

She cried a bit, letting out a long sigh. “The only way I see it is if I give those people an ounce of violence they showed Joel in his final moments, I will be at peace.”

You knew the truth. There was no peace in situations like this. But were you going to tell Ellie that? No, you were not. You traveled hundreds of miles for her to do what she felt was necessary. And while you did not agree with all of her actions, you had been complacent. You were no better than any other person with a violent and impulsive lover. You enabled this journey to come to fruition, so you had to take accountability. 

You stand up so you can face her. Her gaze has softened now and she almost looks like the same girl who confessed her feelings to you at the Harvest Festival two years ago. A little bit older, aged with the falling away of time, but still beautiful and vulnerable. Her green eyes sparkled differently, but your Ellie was still there somewhere. 

“Okay, baby.” That is all you could say. “We will finish it.”

-

When you come back to consciousness, your vision is fuzzy. You are completely disoriented, but you know you are face down on the concrete. You start to feel around for something familiar, not sure if your gun or knife is nearby. You felt defenseless.

“Ellie?” You croak out. As soon as you talk, you can feel blood dribbling down your throat. You hear stirring beside you and your blood runs cold. Is that her?

You lift your hand to rub whatever is in your eyes out. Dirt? Mud? When you look at your hands, you get confirmation that it’s blood. You’re covered in it. 

The movement gets closer and you look to your right and see Ellie’s battered body slowly stumbling towards you. Panic rises within you, unsure if she was mortally wounded or not. She collapses beside you, sitting up partially. She reaches for your hand and you realize that you can hardly move your foot to try to push yourself upwards. Everything hurt. 

“Baby, I’m here.” She finally says. Your worry subsides for a moment as you try to sit up. 

“Are you hurt?” You cry out as you press yourself upwards, the pain in your foot shooting up your leg. It’s almost the worst pain you’ve ever been in. You can hardly breathe once contort yourself to settle next to Ellie’s practically limp body. 

“Yeah, but I can walk.”

You finally remember why you’re in this room. You try to scan the room, but the dimmed lighting and blood in your eyes isn’t helping. “Is Abby dead?” 

The silence tells you the answer but you just look over at Ellie. She has blood pouring out of her nose and it trickles down her neck. 

“She got away.”

-

Every day after Abby got away was completely different. When you arrive at the farmhouse on the hill, you hope to see your old Ellie again, and sometimes you do. 

When the golden light trickled between the leaves in the forest and you two bask in the rays as you forage for berries, you tell a stupid joke and her laugh is guttural. She belly laughs and tells you that you’re so “dumb” before she wraps her arms around your waist and presses a kiss into your temple. 

But then there was nighttime. When she finally fell asleep and you would stay up with a candle burning to read, she was ravaged by nightmares. She usually couldn’t escape them, so you would throw your book on the side table and hold her tightly so she could come back to reality. 

The day would break and she would bring you up some breakfast in bed. She was terrible at cooking, but no one can really mess up scrambled eggs. She would serve them to you with a big goofy grin and long kisses. 

Intimacy was few and far between, but you knew not to press it too much. Every time she would touch you in that way, she was meticulous and very generous. You would try to return the favor and she would shrivel up and tell you that she was okay. It made you feel some type of way, but after the fifth time it happened, you realized it was because she did not feel in tune with herself in that way. 

You told her that she was beautiful every day. No matter what she was doing, or how she looked, whenever the thought entered your mind, you would say it out loud. Her response was always, “No, you.”

After a year of domesticity, you woke up one night to the sound of rustling downstairs and an empty bed. When Ellie did have a bad nightmare, she would occasionally go downstairs and sit on the front porch. But it was a chilly night and you knew better. 

The day before Tommy made an unexpected visit and made an already awkward interaction absolutely deplorable. He had to bring up her and blame Ellie for the outcome of the Seattle event. The entire situation led to you forcing him off the property and telling him to never come back with that bullshit. 

It was a subject you and Ellie never discussed after leaving those city limits. She told you she was done, that it was all over. You would never fight her on it, especially because you knew it was really over. There was no way you would be going after someone who almost killed you and disfigured you. Every time you looked in a mirror, you were forced to see the scars that littered your cheeks and forehead. A sick reminder of the bitter fight between you two. 

You slowly walk downstairs, seeing Ellie’s figure in the kitchen. She has her backpack on the floor, loading a gun into the side pocket. 

“What are you doing?” You ask bluntly. She turns around and you take note of her outfit. A couple of layers. A large brown jacket, jeans, and her Converse. She was going somewhere.

She looks at you, tears already welling in her eyes. 

“Babe…”

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. “Where are you going?”

You creep up to her slowly, your bare feet creaking across the hardwood. 

She’s a foot away when she finally puts her hands out to stop you from coming closer. 

“I… I think Tommy is right.”

If it was possible for someone to rip out your heart without opening up your chest, it was happening to you right now. This would be the worst pain. 

“Right about what?” You manage as a whisper. 

She takes in a long breath, “About Abby. About going after her.”

“No… Ellie, he’s not right.” 

You try to move closer, but she takes a step back. She’s treating you like you are infected. But even that would not matter, she’s Ellie. 

It makes you feel every negative emotion when she says the words, “I need to finish this. I told you… I told you I wouldn’t be at peace until I-”

“So why did we even come back, Ellie? How is this fucking fair to me?”

“You wanted to. We… we were fucked up. We didn’t have a chance.”

“And you think you do now?!”

She shakes her head, almost appalled by your statement. “I wasn’t broken like you were.”

You close your lids tightly, unsure how you could even look her in the eyes. Your fingernails are digging into your palms. You had this feeling for a while. An unsettled force that would occasionally bloom in the pit of your stomach when you watched Ellie. You would remind yourself that it’s over. The plot for revenge was buried deep in the ground. 

So when she stands in front of you, ready to take off, you feel like you can’t breathe.

“Ellie, if you go, I will never forgive you. I will not wait for you.”

She’s silent, contemplating even for a moment. She has this look of determination. She has already made up her mind. “That’s your choice.”

She starts to pick up the bag, but you make one more silent plea before watching your life walk out the back door. You grab her hand quickly, stopping her from taking any steps. 

“I thought you fuckin’ loved me, Ellie. I thought you said we were done.” You sob out,  “You think Joel would want this for you? Do you really think he would want you to walk out that door?”

Deep down, you know that Joel would have gone to the ends of the earth for Ellie, especially if the roles were reversed. But he would also want her to have a life after him. And you were more sure of that than the latter.

She pulls her wrist away from your grasp. A look of pure betrayal playing across her features. You had not spoken his name in months. It sounds like a curse word to her coming from you. “You don’t know what he would want.”

“And you do?” 

“He would have done the same for me.”

And she leaves. You think back to the first words she said to you when you entered her room over a year ago. 

“I thought I told you that I want to be alone.”

And now she would be.

-

[ssssssstarnnnights]

Sidney Prescott art (I LOVE HER SM)

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei - eyes don't lie

a/n: as @moonswolfie said, this man has me wrapped around his finger, so here's another tsukki fic^^ i wanted to post it earlier, but bcs of school i sadly wasn't able to do that

summary: tsukishima definitely isn't jealous. or is he?

warnings: none

tsukishima's eyes were always glued to you.

his world revolved around you ever since you were little. although distant and dry at first, tsukishima seemed to take keen interest in your person almost immediately. he was lucky enough to end up in the same high school and class as you, even more lucky when he found a handwritten love letter in his locker, the writing obviously yours.

his eyes would glint whenever they landed on your frame, his lips always curving into a small, barely noticeable smile. yet this time, his look was completely different.

he looked annoyed, almost mad as he stood in the corner, his back against the wall as he carefully scanned the situation. the music was quite loud at the party, the house spacious enough to fit too many people for tsukishima's liking. it wasn't his party, of course; if it were up to him, he wouldn't be here in the first place. but something about your sweet, slightly pouty face while you asked him to accompany you was enough to convince him.

and now he was left watching as none other than kuroo tetsurou shamelessly flirted with you, talking and laughing at the other end of the room.

he seemed so irritated he didn't even notice his best friend standing right beside him, the freckled boy trying to contain his laughter upon seeing tsukishima's expression.

'ah, tsukki, you look even more grumpy than usual.' yamaguchi said, a small giggle leaving his mouth when his friend turned to face him, his expression so funny he couldn't contain his laughter anymore. 'i've never seen you so jealous.'

'i am not jealous.'

'right, and my name's hinata shoyo.'

tsukishima rolled his eyes, well aware that yamaguchi was, in fact, right. he was jealous beyond belief, almost to the point of making his blood boil. but it wasn't without its reasons.

you were beautiful, and not only in his eyes. many people from your high school, as well as outside of it, found you attractive, and due to this specific factor, tsukishima was afraid of someone swooping in and taking you away from him. no matter how many times yamaguchi assured him that you're not interested in anyone else, there was always a voice in the very back of his head telling him otherwise.

but still, he didn't utter a word to you about it. ever. he didn't want to show any weakness, brushing it off for the time being and pretending like he's not, in fact, quite hurt.

his eyes landed on you once again, his expression softening a bit when noticing you walking in his direction, a bright, wide smile gracing your face.

'i finally found you.' you said, tsukishima immediately noticing the sparkles in your eyes the moment they met his. an almost unnoticeable smile appeared on his face, his hand gently patting the top of your head, fingers brushing through your soft hair. 'want to go get some fresh air?'

the blonde hummed, nodding in response as you quickly grabbed him by his hand, almost dragging him to the nearest exit with a big smile on your face.

upon leaving the building, tsukishima laid his back against the wall, eyes glued to you and carefully scanning your every move.

'what're you thinking about?'

his head tilted to the side, a small mumble leaving his lips.

'nothing.'

hearing his answer, you sighed, walking up a few steps to stand right in front of him, a semi pouty look on your face. your hands went up to cup his cheeks, immediately scoring a theatrical groan from him, the boy trying to hide that he obviously liked whe  you did it.

'i don't believe you. you seem deep in thought.'

'what were you and kuroo talking about?'

tsukishima's eyes were focused on yours, his gaze gentle. and yet there was something in the way he looked at you that indicated something wasn't right.

'oh, we just talked about volleyball, what he's been doing after graduating high school, and- wait.' you stopped in the middle of the sentence, making a face that ysukishima couldn't quite decipher; something between an excited and mischievous look. she took a deep breath, her grin growing bigger with each second.

'are you jealous?'

'no, i'm not.'

'yes you are! i knew it.'

'no, i'm not.'

'you are.'

'i'm no- alright.' tsukishima sighed, admitting defeat this time. 'maybe i am. but it's your fault.'

you furrowed your brows, trying to understand what he meant by that. tsukishima saw the expression of yours and almost immediately continued talking, a short but sweet explanation.

'you're too pretty, one day someone's going to steal you from me.'

he didn't expect you to laugh in response, standing up on your tip toes to give him a quick, sweet kiss on the lips.

'it's cute.' you said, giggling at your boyfriend as you saw his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. 'but i'm not going anywhere. there's only one guy in this world who i view as a life partner.'

'and who would that be?' tsukishima asked, a nonchalant tone as he played dumb just to hear the answer.

'you, idiot.'

the blonde boy smiled, and this time it was a genuine one, that would only appear on his face when around you. he ruffled your hair playfully, laughing when you got annoyed about him ruining your hair.

he looked over to the sides, smiling when realized it was just the two of you. he quickly leaned down to kiss you, hand resting on the side of your face.

'i love you.'

you smiled into the kiss upon hearing his whisper, pulling back for a second to look at his face. she wrapped her arms around him tightly, trapping him in a hug.

'i love you too, you know? and i don't plan on going anywhere.'

taglist: @moonswolfie

[purinfelix]

plsplsplspslpsl write calling bf barca boys (pedri, fermin, joao) + jude bellingham "bro"

"bro"

featuring: pedri, fermin, joao, gavi (i had to include my bby sorryyy!) and jude warnings: teensy bit cringe at times, be warned ...

a/n: once again apologising for being ia, but an eternal thank you to anon and every one else who's still interacting with me and sending me requests!! trying my best to get through them, thank you all for your patience <333

You don’t remember how it had happened honestly, the two of you had just been hanging out in his bedroom, a situation you had come to find comfort in since its frequency had become almost like a routine to the two of you. The air outside was cool, giving the two of you an excuse to curl up together under the blanket and binge watch episodes of your favourite show in a comfortable silence. That was, of course, until you heard the chime of your phone - causing you to perk up out of your boyfriends arms.

“Bro, could you get that for me?”

Pedri

Honestly he doesn’t think much of it at first, since your guys’ relationship has always been pretty casual in the way that you both trust each other enough not to overreact. He reckons that it probably slipped out by accident, and given that it’s what most of his teammates and friends call him, he doesn’t react that much. Sure, he noticed it, and filed it away to the back of his mind as a sign that you might be mad with him but he’s a pretty calm boyfriend only offers an amused eyebrow raise.

It’s only when he leans over and grabs your phone do you realise what you’ve said - but only decide to double down on it to get a reaction out of him.

“Thanks bro,” you say as nonchalantly as you can manage when he hands you your phone, immediately going to respond to whatever message had caused the notification sound. And at first it seems like he’s not going to indulge your obvious bait for a reaction - of course until you hear the rustle of bed sheets and his strong arm snake around your waist.

He lets out a soft mumble that roughly translates to - “What is it baby?” - as he buries his face into the crook of your neck in a loving, yet almost pleading manner. It doesn’t take long for you to give in to his charms.

“I’m only messing with you,” you giggle, patting the top of his head reassuringly.

Fermin

If there’s one thing you know about Fermin, it’s that he’s observant. However, another thing about him is that he’s a sly little shit. So whenever he feels he can sense you trying to prod at his temper it only ends in him serving you back your own attitude.

“Of course, bro,” he says, and even though you’re not looking at him as he turns to grab your phone, you can tell he has a wide smirk spread across his face.

You only give him a knowing look, and try your best to maintain your composure while stifling your laughter - but the minute he drops your phone into your hands you know he’s not going to back down on this.

“Thanks, dude,” you quip.

“Any time, my man.”

Silence, and you’re trying to figure out your next comeback while ignoring the weird way him calling you ‘my man’ made you feel. You feel oddly stupid for starting a game you know you couldn’t keep up with, but luckily your boyfriend has already caught wind of this by the look of amusement on his face.

“Something wrong, mate?” he chuckles as he leans over to peck your lips that you hadn’t realised had formed a pout. All you can do is sigh in faux-exhaustion before erupting into a fit of laughter.

Joao

It’s only once he’s reached over to grab your phone, that he clocks the odd new nickname. Immediately, but silently, his mind starts racing through the possible reasons as to why you’ve bestowed it upon him - did he do something wrong? He did only kiss you twice before leaving for training that morning, and he did accidentally move away from you when the two of you were cuddling earlier. He’s worried, but he’s also up to play your game if need be.

His grip on your phone tightens, and you hear his voice low, daring - “What was that darling?”

You truly meant it as an accident this time, and he manages to snap you out of it with his words. “Oh, sorry, babe,” you correct yourself and he nods as if to silently say that’s better.

You get your phone from him, and a quick kiss on the cheek before he settles back to wrapping his arms around you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck so he can look at your phone next to you.

Gavi

Whilst something like being called “bro” might not matter to most other guys, it definitely did to your boyfriend. His reaction to your words was immediate, his head whipping up from where he had been laying beside you, eyes round and pleading.

“What?” his voice was quiet, almost unbelieving and you had to try your best not to laugh at how dramatic your boyfriend’s reaction was. Still, a small chuckle escapes your lips, only making you feel worse as a small pout forms from his lips.

“Sorry, it slipped out,” you reassure him, reaching up a hand to stroke his cheek lovingly. He furrows his brows as if to pose the question - are you sure? But you only take this as a sign to mess with him, just a little more.

“What, you don’t like me calling you bro?” You’ve completely forgotten about your phone at this point.

“No, definitely not.” He’s oddly serious when he says this, but this only adds to how amused you are by this situation.

“Alright baby,” you hum out your apology, trying your best to further express this through your thumb on his cheek - and luckily he seems to get the message. Before you know it, he’s melted back into your arms, your fingers curling lazily around his hair.

Jude

“What?”

Jude is quick with it, turning to you immediately as soon as the word leaves your mouth with an expression that makes you realise your mistake all too quickly.

“Bro?” he asks again, almost daring you to repeat it, but the shocked laugh he lets out reassures you he isn’t taking it to seriously - only getting an unfair amount of amusement from your mistake.

“Whatever, babe, there,” you say in mock-annoyance, not wanting to let him get the better of you.

“Nuh-uh, you called me bro,” he pushed, leaning in close to you, his voice teasing.

“It was an accident, okay?”

“Sure,” he hums, finally grabbing your phone and handing it to you, all the while having a stupid smirk on his face, “I’ll just have to start calling you mate or something, yeah?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you mutter through pouted lips and he finally gives up the act, settling back by your side and pecking your cheek as an apology.

[henrycangelbaby]

In which: This is not going well. He remembers what Y/N said—that he enjoyed scratches behind his ears, although he's pretty sure she had referred to them as "scratchies.”

or

Logan has to learn to get along with the newest family member.

Logan isn’t always resistant to change; in fact, he would do about anything for his lover, for his Y/N. He spends most of his nights watching the garbage TV of the modern family that she loves, and he even let her get pink tiles in the bathroom when they moved in together, but this might be too far.

He knows something’s up as soon as he walks through the door. Y/N usually comes running to greet him with a sweet kiss, or if not, he can usually hear her stomping around upstairs doing God knows what. But today, he doesn't hear anything immediately when he opens the door, and Y/N certainly isn't there to greet him.

As he steps further into the house, he tries to pick up on any sounds. Is that water running? It's a little early for Lovie to be having her nighttime shower, but perhaps a change in routine was called for. As he approached the sound, he realized that it wasn’t the shower; in fact, it was the sink in the bathroom. He could see her back facing him as she hunched over the sink, muttering to herself.

“Y/N?”

She quickly jumped at the unexpected sound, splashing water before turning around.

“Hey, love.”

He quirked an eyebrow. She sounded rather guilty.

“Is everything okay, baby?” he asked, peering over her shoulder to try and get a glimpse of what she was doing.

“Yeah, everything—”

He cut her off before she could finish. “Is that a cat?”

In the sink that he was standing in front of, he swore for just a second that he could see a sopping wet cat shivering in the middle of it. She finally relented quickly, turning around to pick up the tiny thing and pulling it tight into her chest, causing her shirt to quickly be soaked with soap and water.

“Actually, no, Lo, it’s a kitten,” she continued quickly, “and his name is Squish, thank you.”

“Baby, why the fuck do you have a kitten?”

He could be mad; she looked so cute standing there holding the tiny thing close to her, just like a protective mother.

“I found him, and he was all alone. He looked so sad; I couldn't just leave him there, Lo.”

Okay, he definitely wasn’t mad; how could he be when his baby had been doing something so sweet and loving? He hummed.

“So his name is Squish?”

Y/N lit up instantly. “Yes! Isn’t he the cutest?”

He nodded vaguely along, checking out the kitten closely. It was pretty cute, with white and red fur and big round eyes that peered up at him longingly. He was a little hesitant to reach out and pet ‘Squish’ just yet, but perhaps admitting his cuteness was the first step to that. He shook his head gently when Y/N offered for him to hold the kitten; that was definitely a while in the future.

The start of their relationship was rocky; Squish truly was very cute and made his baby very happy, but the kitten hadn't exactly taken a keen liking to Logan. Perhaps this cat was super smart or something, but he felt like the cat could tell something was up, could tell that he wasn't entirely normal. And listen, it wasn't entirely unjust; he had caught Logan whipping his claws out once completely on accident, but he had felt so guilty for scaring the little guy that he had fed him for a week just to win his trust back.

But it wasn’t just that; whenever Y/N wasn't around, Squish was, well, rather cold towards him. Perhaps it was rather silly of him to read into the emotions and feelings of an actual cat, but he felt that he should be closer to the thing. They did have quite a bit in common, more than he was willing to admit, much to his dismay. But no matter their common ability to ruin furniture, he couldn't quite understand the thing. It wouldn't matter if it was anything else, but this little kitty meant so much to his lover that he felt rather guilty about their mutual distaste for each other.

It goes on like this for a little while; they tiptoe and walk on four legs around each other for a little while, Logan embarrassingly unsure how to handle the little cat except for feeding it every day in hopes of it taking more of a liking to him. Things do not change for weeks.

Y/N has to go out of town for a few nights; she promises to call him every night (after teaching him his way around FaceTime) and makes sure he has Squish’s routine down pat. She leaves early in the morning, giving him a quick kiss on the lips and a somewhat crushing hug before she does the same for their cat and leaves out the door.

And suddenly they are alone together. He feels like a deadbeat father, unsure how to handle hanging out with his kid. Feeding it and then leaving it to its own devices. However, he finds himself rather lonely; of course, he finds things to do. He sees some friends, fixes the broken shelf in the bedroom, and considers what color he should consider painting the bathroom. He finds himself a little lonely; he is the only human in the house, and the only other creature seems to be avoiding him if it's not dinner time.

On day three of Y/N's absence (not that he's counting), he sits alone on the couch. He has eaten a rather pathetic dinner and now sits watching an episode of Modern Family on basically zero volume. The little guy comes trotting into the room. Despite the cat being about the same size as his hand, he can hear its little paws clicking on the ground, or perhaps he is more in tune with his supersense than he thinks.

Squish jumps up, settling onto the opposite end of the couch to Logan. He reaches out to pat Squish, but he gets quickly rejected as the cat shakes off his pat before turning around. This is not going well. He remembers what Y/N said—that he enjoyed scratches behind his ears, although he's pretty sure she had referred to them as "scratchies.”

Fuck it, it was time for him to give Squish some scratchies. He reached out and carefully patted the cat behind the ears. The little guy quickly leaned his head into Logan's hands, rubbing against them with what he could swear was a small smile. Squish moved closer to him, placing his furry head on Logan's thigh. This was nice.

He had opened the floodgates, and now there seemed to be no stopping them. Squish went everywhere that he went, always following Logan around, running around at his feet. He had also taken to sleeping in the bed with Logan. Logan was rather obsessed with having the little thing sleeping on his bicep or chest. Squish had taken residence on his thighs during their now shared TV time and had taken to meowing outside the bathroom when he spent too long in the shower thinking about his Y/N (Squish had ruined his pace at least once with the meowing, but Logan had quickly forgiven him, scared that he had traumatized the kitten again).

In all his excitement, he hadn't told Y/N about this new development in his relationship with her baby. Of course, he had been texting her more often than not—all they had been saying was “I miss you” and “I love you more,” and their phone calls had often consisted of too much talking.

After what seemed to be a lifetime, Y/N came home. She had texted him that morning letting him know her estimated arrival time, but he had jumped to his feet when he had heard her car pull up in the driveway, quickly swooping up Squish in his left arm before rushing to pull the door open. He grinned at her.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey, Lo,” she replied before he pulled her into his arms, hugging her close to his chest. He kissed her on the head.

“I missed you."

"I missed you too, love.”

He shut the door behind her as she turned to face him and gasped in surprise.

“My baby!” she somewhat squealed in excitement, and she reached for the kitten, pulling him into her chest and kissing him multiple times on the head.

“I see you are getting along well,” she grinned at Logan. He felt his cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, we've been hanging out,” he shrugged.

She reached up for his collar and pushed their lips together. He smiled into the kiss. God, he loved his Y/N (and their Squish).

Squish’s clinginess towards him tampered down once his mommy was home. The kitten still sleeps in the bed with them and often rests himself on Logan's thigh, but he has stopped following Logan around wherever he goes. Y/N has definitely noticed their newly formed bond; she often catches them snuggled together when she gets up to pee in the middle of the night and has to stop herself from cooing every time Logan picks him up, dwarfing the little guy in his big hands.

Late one night, Y/N is in the shower, and Logan finds himself alone with the cat. He picks up Squish, pulling him next to his face and kissing the small guy.

“My baby,” he mutters. “My baby, tiny baby,” he utters quietly, gently kissing the kitten on the head.

God, he was down bad.

[222col]

girl i just discovered your blog and i've read all of your work and let me tell you YOU'RE LITERALLY ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS ON THIS APP. I don't know if i can suggest a fanfic idea but can you write something about Stanford Art being your fwb and whenever you had sex he would hint/joke about wanting to take you out and have a committed relationship and you're always acting oblivious and since he's been doing it so many times you decide to end the whole thing. And to get you back Art decides to use your jealousy over him to his advantage. So whenever he knows you're around at college you would find him talking and laughing with one of the girls you hate so your possessive side takes over you and later that night you decide to go to his dorm and punish the brat he is and maybe end up accepting to finally be his girlfriend

im fr blushing 🫣 thank u so much bestie boo <3

"wanna make you mine," art groans out, mid thrust. "i am yours." your nails clawing down his spine, smirking up to his face. art has to physically hold back from rolling his eyes. not what i meant, he'd think. "let me take you out." he asks, putting his t-shirt back on. "we are out?" you laugh, shimmying your jeans back up your legs. "we're in the car park of applebee's." the eye roll can't be held back this time. flinging his head back onto the headrest in the backseat, his arm resting behind your head on the top of the car seat. "c'mon, you know what i mean." art sighs out, turning his head to look at you. "art, let's not do this. you know it would never work." ouch.

"can you just drive me home, please?" you'd sigh, climbing into the passenger seat, looking back to him. "yeah, whatever." he scoffs, climbing into the front seat. the drive back is silent, apart from the radio quietly playing. parking up outside your dorm, turning off the car before looking over to you. "let's just leave it here, yeah?" you breathe out, unbuckling your seatbelt and looking over to art. he raises his eyebrow, as if to question your meaning. "i don't think we should see each other anymore." you half shrug, biting your bottom lip. art just scoffs, shaking his head as he looks out the windscreen. "sorry art, but i think it's for the best." you smile, opening the car door. "yeah whatever, bye." art says through gritted teeth, his knuckles white from his heavy grip on the steering wheel. "see you around, art." he hears before the closing of the door, slamming his palms against the wheel as soon as you've gone. "fuck!"

your friendship circles are close, so there's a lot of crossovers, at parties, library meets, hang outs. the first time you saw art again after ending things was during a study date with your friends. walking into the library, smiling weakly at him, his eyes rolling in response. setting down your books as his arm immediately drapes around the girl to his left, scoffing as you start studying for your classes. it becomes a regular thing, always a girl hanging off of him whenever you're around. hearing giggles at his jokes, girls on his lap at parties, his lips smashed into someone else's an hour later. you'd never admit how much it was getting to you, you hadn't seen anyone else since art. jealous, that's how you felt. it was almost primal, possessive, how jealous you felt. but you ended it, so technically, you couldn't be mad. you'd only ended things because you were scared, scared of commitment, of being hurt. but, you had to live with the fact that you had ended it.

you were out at a bar with a group of friends, two beers in when art arrives, with yet another girl hanging off his arm. a girl he knows for a fact you can't stand. his eyes staring into you as he sits down, pulling her onto his lap, hearing those grating giggles from her as he does. his hands around her waist, blue eyes on you. physically shifting your body to face away from him, breathing sharply, trying to remain composed during your conversation. watching his hands caress the exposed skin of her midriff, shaking your head into your drink. he goes so far as to kiss her neck at the table, looking straight to you as he does. little shit knows exactly what he's doing. "real mature." you mouth across the table to him, only for him to air kiss back to you across the table. after a couple more drinks, everyone heads home, your blood boiling as you walk into your dorm room. sitting down on the edge of your bed, having met your end in ability to look past what he's doing. pulling out your phone, bringing up art's contact.

you: are u at ur dorm??

art: yeah, why?

immediately putting your phone in your back pocket, strutting with speed over to his dorm building. slightly out of breath by the time you arrive, banging on his door. hearing scrambling behind the door before it opens, his blonde locks meeting you. he smirks slightly, before his face is cupped your hands, lips smashing against him as you push into his room. art pushes the door closed behind you, hands gripping the fabric around your waist. "what are you doing?" he whispers against your lips, shushing him as you push him down onto the bed. "do you want me to stop?" you ask, climbing over his body, knees on either side of his thighs. looking down to him, propped up on his elbows. "n-no." he manages to get out, already looking dishevelled underneath you. "then shut up." you tease, pulling your t-shirt over your head, leaning down to attack your lips to his again. art whimpers against your mouth, hands moving to roam over the exposed skin on your back. almost immediately you're grabbing his wrists from behind you and pinning them down to the bed above his head. "you don't get to touch." he's pouting, looking up to you with pleading eyes. "why not?"

"because you've been touching every girl that moves." you tighten the grip on his wrists as he smirks, knowing his game worked, of trying to make you jealous. rolling your hips against him, removing your grip on his wrists to pull his t-shirt over his head. kissing down his jaw, his neck, working your way down to his stomach. crawling your body down his, undoing the buttons of his jeans, looking up to him through your lashes. pulling down the zipper at snails pace, before pushing his jeans and boxers down his legs. placing wet kisses all around his stomach, the top of his legs, the inside of his thighs. art's a whimpering mess, desperate for your touch, hips bucking up slightly. placing one sloppy kiss to his tip before moving away. art's head flinging back into his pillow as you do, smirking down to him as you push your own jeans down your legs. "oh sorry, did you think i was gonna suck your dick after you've been whoring around campus?" you're smirking down to him, your now naked body straddling his waist. pink blush floods his cheeks, furrowing his brows up to you, pout on his lips. "i- i haven't." he's pleading with you, hands creeping up your legs, to rest on your thighs. "didn't touch any of them. ju- just,"

your fingers are in his mouth, pushing two of your digits onto his tongue, his mouth widening as you do. "just what?" you smirk, pulling your fingers from his mouth, holding his jaw tightly. "just wanted to make you jealous." he pouts, hips bucking up again. "you're such a brat." you smirk, pushing your thumb into his mouth as he sucks on it instinctively. leaning back, lining art's cock up with your entrance, before sinking down onto him. his grip on your thighs tightens, eyes fluttering shut as he hums against your thumb. grinding yourself against him, moans slipping from your mouth, moving your hands to rest on his chest. "fuck, missed you." art grumbles, moving his hips along with your rhythm. smiling down at him, watching his eyes flutter, his swollen lip between his teeth.

art's hand comes down to thumb at your clit, rubbing slow circles against you, smirking up as he hears his name fall off your lips. art's cock curls against your walls as you grind against him, his length hitting your g-spot with every movement. the mixture of sensation stretching the band in your stomach tighter, leaning down to kiss art's lips, his grip on your thigh moving to your hips, guiding you as he thrusts up to meet you, fucking you faster. groans fall into each others mouths, bodies sheen with layers of sweat. his blonde curls sticking to his forehead, sloppily kissing each other as you both push each other closer to the edge. "fuck- i'm so close." you mumble into art's mouth, hands wrapping around the hairs of his scalp. art moans louder, feeling you clench around his cock. his mouth licking down your jaw as he suckles on the skin on your neck, feeling you come undone on his shaft. "mmph, m'gonna cum." art mumbles, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he paints your walls, his cum dripping down over him as he slides out of you.

collapsing down on top of him, your legs feeling like jelly, both of you breathless. sinking onto your side, laying down next to art, eyes locked on each other as your breathing returns to normal. art leans to push your hair off of your forehead, smiling to you as his hand rests on your cheek. "will you please, let me make you mine." he half laughs, his thumb stroking your skin. smiling as you roll your eyes jokingly to him. "what, like be your girlfriend?" you giggle, caressing the skin on his hipbone. "yes, my god, i've been trying to ask you for months." he shakes his head, laughing before looking back into your eyes, waiting for your answer. smiling shyly as you simply nod your head. "is that a yes?" he smiles, tickling your sides. "yes!" you reply through your chuckles. "i'll be your girlfriend." art smiles wide, rolling on top of your body. "fucking finally." he mumbles onto your lips, kissing you tenderly. "you could have just asked." you giggle into his mouth. "you're unbelievable."

[kentoxo]

I’d love to hear your Megumi headcanons - sfw and not if he’s aged up ♡ and mostly, best of luck for the new blog! Ily!

Hi! Thank you for the ask, and thank you sm for the luck. I feel so warmly welcomed by you all :) 🫶🏽

For the sake of my excitement, lets do sfw AND nsfw in the context of him being aged up

warning: this is mad long omg so sorry xo i go overboard a lot with my ask reqs so please beware.

SFW - reader(f) x bf!megumi: to me, he's such a non-PDA person, but he won't just ignore you/is affectionate in his own quiet way.

Megumi absolutely pays attention to the little things you do. Whenever you two are out and there's something that even slightly piques your interest, he would silently grab it and try to secretly pay for it. Then, when you see it in the bag and ask him, he'll just be like 'oh maybe they were givin' stuff away for certain purchases.' Like the sweet liar he is. He will absolutely give in to your desires, even if you don't need it.

Megumi is also a man who loves being affectionate, he just hates showing it. Like if you're cold, he won't offer you his jacket, he WILL give you his jacket. If you're thirsty and can't open your water bottle, he'll just grab it from you and snap it open before giving it back. I love the idea of people constantly telling you like what do you see in him and then mentioning all this.

Dinner with him includes him constantly giving you part of his plate, and getting so much satisfaction from watching you eat. He just loves everything that you do, truly. He asks you multiple times if you want anything else to eat and refills your water for you before the waiter comes because he knows you feel awkward when they randomly appear to refill it for u during a conversation.

"I don't know if you'll like this but it reminded me of you" type gift giving. He's usually right, but always looks away from you whenever he gives you things. It's the consideration that count, and you appreciate it endlessly.

He loves when you touch his hair. For someone who can be grumpy and sensitive to touch, his hair is extremely intimate to him and trusts you enough. He would always look away n blush whenever your fingers scratched the back of his head/weaved through his locks. He would never ask for it, but he would sometimes tilt his hair towards you just to see if you would just do it casually.

NSFW - reader(f) x bf!megumi (aged up): unlike his public displays of affection, his private ones are like phewwww. But he will absolutely let you know in public that he needs it, and immediately.

His little code to tell you he's horny is to rub one of the palms of your hands. He acts so quiet and shy and mysterious but he's very forward with what he wants. If you ignore these advances, he applies pressure by pressing against your body in tight spaces like elevators or crowded areas. Even if its not crowded, Megumi will corner you with hungry eyes.

Megumi is a man of business. Even when he comes home exhausted from a mission, he will pick you up from anywhere and press you against the wall with lust in his eyes and desperation in his lips. It could be anywhere in the house, he does not give a fuck. He'd pin you against a wall and begin fingering you, just to fuck you in that same hallway. "Your pussy is so perfect..." type flirting.

He's an ass man (I know he's an ass man). You would wake up in his arms, with his large calloused hands kneading your ass. A string of complimentary curses would leave his lips whenever he got the chance to massage your ass during lazy days. He loved to rub on it, give it plenty of kisses and hickies. It's the reason you don't let him give you a massage often, since his attention would stay at your cheeks.

"Let me fuck the lights out of you" Megumi is peak. His fingers would dig into your thighs, demanding surrender. He loved dragging his fingers along the dip of your back when you rode him perfectly sat up. He'd even grab you by the ass and bounce you on his cock himself whenever he grew impatient. Even though he loves when you take over, he mainly likes taking control to make sure you feel good, always.

He loves being overstimulated. Even after several rounds, his mouth would completely dry whenever you tried enticing him again for another fuck. He could feel the pain in his cock, but because it was you, he was completely down for another round. He practically cried but always begged for you to keep going. "F-fuck, it's t-too much-- please--don't stop~!"

I hope this satisfied your ask, anon <3 ~ gabby

[melrodrigo]

friends? p.2

Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader

Summary: A rivalry between you and Cairo has been going on for several months…what does it take for her to finally break?

Warnings: there r literally none they bicker like an old couple and cairos mean

Word Count: 2k+

A/n: helloooo i’m not sure abt this chapter but lmk what u thought, i cranked this out in its entirety last night, enjoy!

part 1

Friendship was not Cairo Sweet's strong suit. Ask her about Dickinson or Austen or Shakespeare—these were all things she could answer. But the ultimate question of friendship was not something hot on Cairo's mind.

She didn't need it, that was her take. And why would she waste time on something she didn't need?

Friends, much less a partner, was something she never saw for herself. The thought of being a housewife, living in a picture-perfect picket fence house, appalled her. The only things that mattered were her, her writing, and Yale.

So when a certain girl had entered her life, she hated it.

You.

You with your stupid face, and pretty hair, she hated you. A burning passion so intense it heated up her heart and made it race. So intense that she wanted to punch you in the face whenever you passed, only to bandage it up with feather light touches so she could punch you again harder.

At first it was nothing; she didn't have a thing to worry about. A blushing face while you stammered and fumbled around trying to give Mr. Miller an answer, she disregarded you as someone she could respect immediately.

But obviously she had caught you on a bad day, because after those first few weeks, you managed to present yourself in a less idiotic way.

You were, surprisingly smart.

Almost too smart, she pondered. It was getting in the way of her own studies. How could it be, that someone was on bar (never better) than her?

Often she found herself seething at you, arguing at every chance she had with your answers; but, you had given her the same treatment as well.

It wasn't strange for your classes to end in heated debate, both sides failing to yield. It bothered her greatly. She went back home and read more than she'd ever read before, studied just a few minutes longer because she could feel you taunting her.

"Sweet." You nodded, as she pushed open the doors to Millers class. You'd made it a habit to arrive early, leaving only you and her for a good thirty minutes before everyone else arrived.

It was infuriating. To have you so close, open, ready to harm, yet she could do nothing. She'd been having a particularly grueling week. Her parents had just come back from Brazil; and, always seemed to be ready to go at her throat. Gone were her lonely but comforting nights on her bed, candle-lit. Now it was just fights and condescending jabs.

"What did you get on the paper?" Your voice piped up, breaking her from her train of thought. You were referring to the paper Mr.Miller had given back last week, one that counted for forty percent of the grade.

She felt a swell of pride. Scores were something she could argue about. This would take off the stress she'd been building.

"99." She smirked, cocking her head to the side.

You whistled approval, nodding adamantly. Even though there was nothing to suggest so, she could swear she felt condescension in your tone.

She was good at picking out stuff like that. The roll of someone's tongue, the way they smack their lips—it all meant something to her.

She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. "What did you get?" She asked, brows furrowed.

You didn't say anything, simply holding up a finger and mouthing 'one hundo' and watched as disbelief took over her features.

"You're fucking lying." She seethed. Her good mood had suddenly disappeared just as fast as it had appeared.

You spun around in your seat, stupid smile on your face. God, she wanted to jump at you and claw it off.

"Hey, hey, it's okay to be mad. You can't be the best at everything." You told her, hands behind your head.She gripped the desk harder, knuckles turning a faint white.

She stood up, walking over to your desk."You little shi-"

"Good morning, the both of you!" Mr.Miller interrupted, cheery smile. His enthusiasm radiated off his body like rays radiated from the sun. He stopped short when he saw Cairo stalking close to you, a clear pout on her face.

"What are you doing?" He asked, question directed towards her, voice sickly sweet. He had grown fond of Cairo since the beginning of the term; she was his favorite student.

"I'd like her to be removed from the class. Can't you do that Mr.Miller?" She avoided his question, tilting her face at an angle where her chocolate colored eyes shone bright.

His white brows furrowed, not quite comprehending. "You mean," He started, "right now...?"

Bless him, he had no clue how manipulative Cairo was.

She doesn't let up, doesn't let her disappointment show. You notice it in the slight clench of her jaw--she's annoyed.

"I meant for the rest of the term, I can't stand being in the same class as her." She emphasized her words with a glare in your direction. You send her a sweet smile back.

"Please, flattery will get you nowhere." You winked, smile turning into a real one when you see her get visibly agitated.

"Please, girls. Let's be civil here all right?" Mr.Miller pipes up, trying to stand in between Cairo and you. It does nothing to lessen the tension in the air.

He turns slightly to Cairo, voice firm. "And no...I won't kick Y/N out."

The childish part of you desperately wants to fist pump the air; but, the more serious side of you decides maybe you shouldn't do that in the company of your arch nemesis.

Class turns weird fast. Cairo—normally quick and adamant—stays quiet, seemingly distracted by the simplest of things: a bird singing softly from a window, the great big forests where her house stood, the sound of your feet continuing to scrape against the carpet.

It irks you a little. It has you not listening in class, wanting to focus on the girl in front of you.

You almost don't hear it when Miller announces that you'll be working in pairs for the midterm project, preoccupied with her bobbling head, moving as if she were listening to some imaginary music.

"You will not be able to pick your own partner, that's already been done for...by me." He adds, after hearing the onslaught of voices from the students. It's clear he's not changing his mind.

"Alright. When I call your names, go sit with your pair and discuss how you'll do the assignment. Olivia, Taylor." He calls out the first pair, going down (what seems like) an endless list of names, never quite getting to yours.

You watch as countless people move around, silently looking out for who hasn't been called yet. You needed to get a good grade on this, and a lazy partner was going to be a nightmare.

You strain your ears to hear Mr.Miller over the commotion of students moving, but when you turn to squint at him you're surprised to see he's already looking at you.

A sinking feeling eats your entire being whole as you watch his mouth move. He points his finger at you, then someone in front of you.

Cairo Sweet.

Fuck.

Even though you loved to tease her, you did not need to have Cairo Sweet as your partner. She was likely to ruin you before you even got to starting the thing.

You don't make the first move to get up, instead you sit dumbly in your chair, bracing yourself.

Your peace is disrupted by a huff from above you. There she is.

"Move over. I need a seat." She says, something in her voice making you oblige. She pulls over an extra chair and sits by the other end of the table.

"You can come closer ya know." You say, unsure of how friendly to be. You'd only ever really spoke with her from a distance, a comfortable distance. Now that she's up in your personal space you feel ike you're going to suffocate.

She ignores you, pursing her lips as she listens to Miller explain the project.

You inch your chair closer, prepared to make a sly jab at the way she's being a teachers pet, but her stare—which has now been redirected on you—stops you in your tracks. She looks scary.

Lips downturned, nostrils flaring, you're a bit taken aback.

"Okay jeez. You don't have to be such an ass about it." You mumble, distancing yourself a great deal further than you already were. The mood, if it weren't enough already, turns more sour.

She ignores your suggestions and remarks on how to do the project, scribbling something down on to her notepad every now and then.

"Earth to you, Sweet. Are you listening to me?" You press, starting to feel those tendrils of annoyance grabbing you. It was one thing to be an ass, but to put her own feelings above doing good work was low, even for her.

Especially for her, you think.

"Do you ever shut up?" She growls, biting her cheeks so hard you could see the indent it was making on the outside.

"Okayyy...someone's obviously going through something, but can we just-" You gesture to the sheet of paper on the table, you haven't even been allowed to look at what she's written yet.

"I am NOT going through something." She says again, voice cracking. The sound brings forth a peculiar reaction in you, your mouth hanging open. Her eyes look...watery.

Before you can utter a word she's getting up and storming out the classroom, making heads turn left and right at the loud noise.

"Um...I'll be right back too." You say, sending Mr.Miller a cheeky smile and a wink, hoping that'll lessen his curiousity enough to not come out after the two of you.

You push open the doors, call Cairos' name a couple times.

You eventually find her outside, back pressed against the brick wall. She's lighting up a cigarette.

Her body language looks more calm now, but you're not sure what to do. You shuffle on your feet, twiddling your thumbs.

"Sorry I did that." She speaks, not turning to look at you. It startles you a bit, you hadn't realized she saw you.

"Cairo Sweet saying sorry? I must be dreaming." You try, although you're not smiling and she doesn't laugh. Humor seems to be sucked away in this little bubble belonging to only the two of you.

You move a little closer, then even closer when Cairo doesn't object. Even though you did hate her to the bone, you wanted to make sure she was okay.

"Are you...alright?" You ask softly, watching her face for an answer. She seems to be deep in thought.

She takes a swing from her cigarette and blows. "I don't like you." Is what she says.

The ice breaks. You no longer feel like you're supposed to pity her. This was Cairo Sweet, her heart was made of coal.

"Yeah I think we established that. Anything else?" You sigh, leaning back so you're also pressed up against the wall.

She turns to you, and for the first time, she doesn't seem very mad.

"I don't like you." She says again, moving closer. It's in your natural instinct to step back, why was she being so weird? Was she going to hurt you?

She grips your shoulder lightly, enough for you to get the message to stay still.

"I don't  like you." Cairo mutters for the third time, eyes piercing into yours. She seems to be speaking a little lower, a little raspier than normal. Cogs seem to be turning in her head, debating and debating and debating.

Debating on what you can't be certain.

"I get it, you don't like me. So what?" You mummur, voice lower than normal. The proximity is making your mind feel a little clouded.

You try not to let your gaze drift down to her lips, but when there's nothing around to distract yourself with, they do.

Her freckles, the ones that litter her face. You get the disgusting urge to touch them.

"So...don't get the wrong idea." She says before taking your lips in a kiss.

It takes you a second to comprehend what's really happening. You stand frigid, mouth parting to gasp. You're gasp is swallowed by her own lips, soft and supple.

Once Cairo feels that you aren't responding, she pulls away, frightened look on her face. Pink lips downturned, her cheeks a rosy red. You don't have time to process what the right move is. For now, you don't need Cairo thinking you didn't like whatever that was.

You reach for her neck, pull her in for a second kiss. It's somehow better than the first. She responds quick, hands wandering to cup your face, then down to circle your waist, then up to tangle in your hair—like she's changing her own mind too quick.

You let her take the lead, pressing you into the wall with a strength you didn't know she possessed.

You're too lost in it all, the smell of her shampoo, the feeling of her teeth scraping your lips, biting down only the slightest, her fingers burning traces wherever they go.

"Sweet." You breathe, coming out more like a soft moan than you would've liked.

She breaks apart from you, a wild mess. You think she's never looked prettier, hair everywhere, lips torn from your heated kisses.

Her eyes are soft until they flash and something else takes over. It's as if your voice had brought her back to life.

"I don't like you." She snarls, and promptly turns on her heels, just a slight increase in speed than her normal strut.

You're left breathless, staring out into the green plains. Mind and heart racing, you're not sure which organ you should listen to.

The implication of what you did hits you like a freight train. You groan and press your hands to your head, willing and willing and willing for a solution to come out of it.

Not to anyones surprise, nothing comes. A magic fairy doesn't tell you what to do, and you're still standing behind school panting.

"Oh god."

[barblaz-arts]

Fellow Chaggie shipper, here and I wanted to ask you a question. Could you please do an analysis post on the Chaggie argument from Hello Rosie. I know this will sound weird but I can't get over the level of icy anger Charlie had towards Vaggie or how despite everything going on, Charlie is more hurt from Vaggie not being honest with her. Just angst all around.

Oh yeah sure I'd love to!

I'm not sure there's a lot I can say about that argument that isn't already super obvious, so I wanna talk about Charlie's anger because of something my brother said as we watched episode 7. He loved that episode apparently because "When they're separated, it's even more obvious that Charlie is the one who's more quick to lose her cool." Which, looking back, is actually true!(To an extent)

Vaggie and Charlie are both quite quick to anger. Charlie is just better at hiding it because she's a chronic people pleaser. Although Charlie wouldn't immediately show her anger at a person being a jerk to her specifically, she's immediately summoning fire and brimstone over anyone who hurts/insults her friends or the cause she's fighting for.

Love this lil bit in "You Didn't Know". How Vaggie is the one telling Charlie to calm down, as if she knows what's about to happen. She knows that if she doesn't at least try to reel in her girl Charlie would be spitting literal fire at a goddamn seraphim.

It would seem like such a surprising role reversal, but if you look at all the times Charlie would lose it whenever Vaggie's not there to tell her "babe, chill", then it makes sense.

But then when their fallout happens, Charlie's short temper is even more apparent. She calls Alastor an asshole to his face even though she considered choosing his support over her father's. She openly glares and rolls her eyes at Rosie when she jokes that her and Alastor look like an item even though she still kept things cordial with Valentino after he licked her arm. She flips the bird at some old lady even though she didn't take visible offense at all the demons that inserted their crude and rude selves in "Happy Day in Hell." While she was cold and subdued even when upset with Vaggie, she was explosive and in ur face when she was pissed at everyone else.

Vaggie reigned in both the girl in Charlie who dreams a little too big and the demon who's waiting to lash out in flames. It really makes me wonder if there's a difference in the kind of person Charlie used to be before Vaggie. Before she had friends to be angry on behalf of and a person to calm her down. And then, in the wake of their argument, Charlie is left with a lot of anger that is easy to ignite.

But I love love love that despite all that anger, Charlie can't bring herself to deny that she loves Vaggie with all of her hurt heart.

This little moment is one of my favorite parts in the series. My brother mentioned that this episode and episode three were his favorites because he liked the beats the dialogues followed. So he looked back--

(the man literally paused the episode to check the opening credits of ep 7 and 3. I was a little annoyed because I just wanted my Chaggie dammit! We'd make terrible youtube reactors with all the pausing and discussing mid-episode that we do...)

--and was satisfied to see that it was written by the same person, Ariel Ladensohn. Apparently she's in a sapphic relationship too and projected her own experiences whenever she wrote Vaggie and Charlie, and it must have paid off because the moments she wrote with them felt so real.

Charlie expressing her fear that even Vaggie's support and love could also be part of the lies she told was understandable considering the betrayal she felt. But immediately following that she goes "Oh that's a horrible to thing to think!" which I love even more. Even when she's understandably mad she thinks about how Vaggie would feel over Charlie thinking that of her. Because although Vaggie lied about who she is, Vaggie was always sincere about how she felt for Charlie. Vaggie's past may have been a lie, but the things she did for, to, and on behalf of Charlie were very real and held dear in Charlie's heart.

I dont have anything smart to say to conclude this. Sorry, I'm not even sure where I went here. Let's all just appreciate the smile Charlie has on her face when she thinks about Vaggie even when she's under a lot of stress I guess.

[e-nonsense]

heyy, hope you are doing well and congrats on 2k🫶🫶 can i order peonies with lace and string with a little bit of burlap? for the note, logan and reader have been like fwb for a while (and everybody knows) yet logan is always flirting w jean— the rest is up to you!!

I’LL BE BETTER

pairing. logan howlett x fem!reader

warning. no use of y/n instead logan calls her peach, make up sex, unfinished

you didn’t understand him. he’d be friendly with you when she wasn’t around, but the second jean entered he’d give you the cold shoulder.

pretending that you weren’t anything more than a fuck buddy. it was pissing you off, were you just jean’s replacement? something he could play with in her place.

he knew he could never have her. she treats him the way he treats you, something to have when she can’t get what she wants.

you tried not to think about it. you and logan are nothing more than that. friends who happen to sleep with each other every now and then.

so why’d he always get mad when you’d hang out with another guy, or hell even storm.

dragging you away whenever he could fuck you quickly like horny teenagers. you felt used, because that’s what he’s been doing right? using you.

this had to stop. it was hurting you more than it should’ve, it was supposed to be innocent — as innocent as sex with your close friend could be — fun.

“stop it logan.” you pushed him away from you, stepping back when he tried to reach for you again.

“what?” his brows furrowed in confusion, “why?”

you hated that look, the foreign soft care in his hazel eyes as he watched you.

“i don’t want to do this anymore.” you murmur.

“why not?” he asks, “don’t look away from me, peach. tell me why.”

your bottom lip trembled in a way he hated, he knew this was his fault. he was messing with you, putting you second to jean because he couldn’t get over her. you were the perfect girl.

pretty, and kind, sweet in every way he needed. you looked out for him, took care of him. jean didn’t do any of that for him. so why did he keep hurting you?

“i’m sorry, peach. really i am.”

you shook your head as you turned away from him, you deserved better. he let you go, watched as you walked away from him, up until you turned a corner and escaped his eye line. he stayed there frozen until he couldn’t smell you anymore.

he had to fix this.

step 1: find jean

he found her in the lab later that same day, he hated the way he was drawn to her immediately. moving to her side instantly. “hey.”

“logan,” jean smiled at him turning her head to look up at him.

“we need to talk.”

“about?” jean asked, tilting her head curiously.

“this. you, me, us.” logan says, “whatever this is. it needs to stop.”

jean has scott, she doesn’t need to keep leading him on. “oh, of course.” she smiled, though it didn’t meet her eyes, she knew she was in the wrong, leading another man on while very much engaged to scott. maybe she just liked the attention, the fact that someone else wanted her too.

“i hate to do this to you, but i don’t need this. peach she—”

“you like her.” jean notes.

he nods, “i do.”

“i’m sorry logan,” she says as he turns around.

“i know.”

he takes his leave, the door sliding closed behind him as he walked. thinking about what he’d say to you now.

step 2: apologise to you

apologies had never been logan’s strong suit, with the life he’s lived, there’s been no time for regrets. but he’d try, for you.

logan’s fist came down against your door, knocking twice, a signal to you that its him. “hey peach… can we talk?”

no answer.

“peach, i’m sorry. really i am, i didn’t mean to put you in that position. you didn’t deserve any of that.”

the knob on your twisted, and he could see you peeking up at him from the crack. “can i come in?”

you nodded, opening your door further, enough for him to step through. he noticed the dried tears on your cheeks and the puffy redness to your eyes, you seemed to have fallen asleep like that, in his big shirt.

you close the door behind you, leaving you open to his hug. he grabs you before you can run, hugging you tightly to his chest.

“how can i make it up t’ya? i’ll anything for you, peach.”

“can we lie down?” you ask, before adding “together?”

he doesn’t reply, instead lifting you up and carrying you to the bed, he lays down on his back, letting you cuddle up on top of him.

cuddling turns into something more, you can’t find it in you to stop. he’d innocently pressed a kiss to your neck, something to just reassure you then you’d started exchanging kisses.

it started innocently, kisses to just show the care you had for one another. then he smelt your arousal, letting out a low groan before he rolled over so he could cage you under him.

“tell me you want this, peach.”

“want this, i want you.”

“good girl.”

extending a single claw, he cut through your — his shirt.

“logan!”

“hmm? i’ll give you another one.”

his hand slid down your body as he met your lips in a kiss, gentler than the ones he’d normally give you. his fingers moved over your white cotton panties, he could feel your dripping arousal coating them.

“you’re so wet, i thought you were hating me.” he couldn’t help, really. whenever he got the chance to be a smug bastard he’d take it.

“fuck off,” you mutter, he chuckled at your grumpy response while he pulled your panties to the side with two fingers, running his ring finger through your pretty folds.

“i’d rather fuck you,” he grinned, pulling your panties down your legs before unbuckling his belt.

and he did. he fucked you hard and good, whispering apologies into your ear as he did, kisses trailing down you neck. you wondered how someone could fuck your brains out and make you feel loved at the same time, but logan was a complicated man.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[leviscolwill]

i know i'm annoying, and i deeply apologise for that. but you have no idea how happy it'd make me if you wrote for ferran. I KNOW, i am a mad woman, i am aware..

i would die for this prompt

dialogue 9 : "are you wearing chapstick?"

i love you

cherry flavoured conversations ★

pairing: childhood bsf!ferran x reader

note: my lovely zowa, this is my first time writing for ferran, it’s quite short but i hope you’ll still like it. i love u so very much xx

now playing cherry flavoured by the neighbourhood…

winter holidays at the torres’ family house were always fun. you got to spend two entire weeks with your best friend and both your families, and your only concern was whether you should go ice skating, sledging, or just spend the day by the fireplace watching movies.

on the other hand, this time of the year was the hardest for you to hide your ever-growing feelings for your best friend. it was becoming increasingly harder to pretend you didn't feel anything past friendship while he was by your side pretty much 24/7.

it was one of those chilly nights, and you were having dinner with your families. ferran immediately got up when arantxa asked you to bring dessert to the table. his gentleman manners taking over, even though you clearly didn't need any help with the task.

ferran noticed you were significantly quieter than usual during dinner, lost in your own thoughts. your feelings were eating you alive, his smile, the sparkle in his eyes whenever he was talking to you only made your thoughts grow louder, and the irrevocable need to grab his shoulders and scream ‘can’t you see how much you mean to me?’ was only getting stronger.

his hand met yours before you could grab the plate, your eyes instinctively met his, filled with worry. “what did i do wrong y/n?”

ferran’s eyes didn't leave yours for a second, desperately searching for an answer in them. his hand was still on yours, his thumb drawing small circles on your skin.

“you didn't do anything wrong, i’m just feeling down tonight. please don’t worry fer.” from the look he gave you, you could tell he knew there was something else going on, but he didn't add a word.

when his eyes finally left yours, you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding, and noticed his eyes focused somewhere else; the ceiling.

ferran’s gaze fell back on you. he let go of your hand to point at where he was staring, right above the two of you.

mistletoe. you could tell it had been taped to the ceiling not so long ago, and you already had an idea of who was behind this idea. and what a cruel idea that was, what if ferran just outwardly expressed his disgust at the mere thought of kissing you? you didn't know if you’d be able to hold back the tears if it happened.

his hand tilted your chin up to make your eyes meet once again. his face was dangerously close to yours, so close you could count every beauty mark, every freckle on the face you adored.

“we don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” his voice was soft, almost whisper-like. if you were to kiss, which ferran really wanted, he wished to share this moment with you and not with both your families eavesdropping on you like they always did around you.

unable to find the words to answer him, you stood on your tiptoes to close the gap between your lips. softly at first, afraid he would vanish into thin air like when you’d wake up from another vivid dream with him as the main character.

but none of that happened. ferran’s grip on your jaw only got tighter. yet his touch was still loving, just enough strength to show his yearning for you. when you finally pulled back from his enticing hold, ferran had a puzzled look on his face.

“are you wearing chapstick? it tastes like…” ferran licked his lips, trying to guess the flavour of your chapstick still lingering on his own lips.

he took the opportunity to kiss you again, lips meeting yours once again in a quick peck. “raspberry?”

you shake your head, faking a disappointed expression on your face. “cherry, close enough though.”

“can i get another cherry kiss before going back?” this unexpected chain of events almost made you forget what you were here for in the first place. you grabbed the plate, before kissing the corner of ferran's mouth. which brought a frown on his face, before remembering he’ll get other opportunities to get a better taste of your chapstick later.

when you both stepped back to the dining room, arantxa looked at you both with a knowing look before winking at you, not trying to hide her implication in the mysterious case of the mistletoe. while your parents were still in a deep conversation. unaware of the moment you just shared, the heat rushing on your face and ferran’s beet-red ears.

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

chapter 13.

it was another night in the cafe, the same routine seemed to be never ending. as i scrubbed the counter down after spilling my own drink, i thought about Johnnie. i didn't want to have my hopes up that he'd continue to come and see me every night, so i had myself convinced i'd only see him a couple times this week, if even at all. i scrubbed the counter until it sparkled, wanting to keep myself busy with anything i could. if Johnnie was up, he would've texted me. and if he is up and didn't, then that's fine. i kept telling myself the same thing to try and quiet my mind, but i gave in and just put in one of my headphones.

it was around 11 pm when a trio of girls stumbled into the cafe. 2 of them were very obviously under the influence while the other must've been the designated driver because she had a miserable look on her face. the sober girl shooed them off, telling them to go sit somewhere. she walked up to me with an exasperated smile. "you seem like you're having a great night." i say sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood.

she sighed, "yeah. so sorry if they cause any trouble." she says shyly.

"all good, what can i get for you?" the bell on the door rings as someone else walks in. i didn't glance over while i was listening to her order. whenever she was finished ordering snacks for her friends, she thanked me and went to sit with them.

johnnie walked up after her with a tired smile. "hey."

i tilted my head and smiled softly. "why don't you take melatonin or something? your sleep schedule must be shit if you come and see me every night." i tease

"i mean, it's worth it. in the day you're usually asleep." i looked at him, confused, "so i can't see you." he explained further, lightly laughing.

"well, i'm so glad you come see me so often," i smile, but my mood immediately flipped as someone else walked in. a sweet looking old lady stood behind johnnie in the line. "you ordering anything?"

"probably not tonight. i just planned on seeing if i could talk to you for a bit." he moved out of the way and went to sit at his usual table. after i served this customer, i planned on going to sit with him.

"hello, ma'am. what can i get for you?" i repeated the words i had at least a hundred times in the past month. as she went through her order, i took a couple glances around the cafe. johnnie sat on his phone, leaving back in the chair lazily. meanwhile, one of the intoxicated girls was really eyeing him. it looked as if she was undressing him with her eyes, and i hated it. i watched as she turned to her friend and whispered before smiling and blushing and looking back at him. i think i visibly rolled my eyes.

"that'll be all!" her bottom lip slightly quivered as she smiled.

"i'll have that right out for you." i walked over to our case of pastries, occasionally taking glances back at the girl. she seemed to be scheming something. i collected her two cheese danishes before going off to make her vanilla latte. i set her things on the counter in front of where she was standing before telling her the total. she paid and went on her merry way.

i exited from behind the counter and sat across from johnnie. whenever he realized i was done, he shut off his and fixed his posture to face me correctly. "seems like a busy ass night."

"yeah, i mean, luckily i get off at, like, 3." which was about 3 hours before the day shift started. johnnie nodded. i watched as the same girl walked up behind johnnie. she had long, red, pin straight hair and the cutest freckles i had ever seen, which almost made me mad. she was beautiful, and if she was about to hit on johnnie, i didn't stand a chance compared.

she tapped on his shoulder while staring me dead in the eyes. " hi, i'm amelia." she smiled sweetly, sticking out her hand to johnnie.

"hi," johnnie replied, sounding confused but not taking her hand. him not taking her hand made me want to smile, but it was such a small gesture, i convinced myself it was nothing.

she cleared her throat as she put her hand down. "well, i think you're really cute," she blushed, "can i get your number?" her hand grazed his shoulder.

he slightly furrowed his eyebrows, glancing towards me before turning back to her. "i'm not looking for a relationship right now, no thanks." he said nonchalantly before turning back to me. she opened her mouth to say something but ultimately walked back to her seat without saying a word. "did i ever get your tiktok? i wanna send you shit." he immediately changed the subject.

"no, one sec." i pulled up tiktok and showed him my username. as he was looking me up, o began to spam text jake.

me: jake

me: jakeee

me: jake!!!

and so on for at least 30 seconds before he texted me back.

jake: whaaat why can't i sleep D:

me: because this girl was tryna get his number but he said he's not looking for a relationship is that true???

jake: i can't say much but that is not the case for that inbred

me: well damn good but what 😭

jake: is that it

jake: can i sleep now 🙃

me: yes get your beauty sleep cause you need it lol

jake: girl have you seen me?? gn

me: lol night

i turned off my phone and looked at johnnie, feeling much better. "you find it?"

"damn, sorry, i'm slow." he smiled awkwardly, a blush growing on his face. i smiled back.

[fictionfawn]

thoughts about abby anderson bc i've been having really bad brain rot (some water polo player!abby)

abby isn’t the biggest fan of large displays of PDA, but she does this thing where she just hovers around you. she never strays too far away from you, so she’s just kind of lurking lol. when you’re walking together, she’ll either put her hand on your shoulder or your back and subtly guide you. (tbh i also do that. gotta treat my babygirl right fr). i don't think you'll hold hands too often, mostly because her hands are kind of sweaty due to her naturally running quite hot. if you try, she'll laugh and say, "don't. my hands are sweaty." like ok? just wipe them off girly, i wanna hold your hand. i think she likes linking arms, though. she eats it up when you hold onto her arm and cling onto her, she loves it. despite not liking pda, she takes every opportunity to subtly touch you. brushing arms when you're walking, touching thighs because you're sitting so close to each other, one hand on your knee, stuff like that. she's seriously borderline clingy, but she's always so gentle. she's so cute omg

i think that abby likes to be pampered. specifically, i think she likes it a lot when you play with her hair. brush it, wash it and tie it when she’s too tired to do it herself. start running your fingers through her hair and massage her scalp and she’s immediately putty in your arms. she’ll most likely insist on doing it herself, but if you push back she’s not going to argue further lol. do what you must, she’ll enjoy it

when it comes to pet names, i think she'll only really use them when there's no one else around. however, occasionally there are times where it'll just slip out. i don't know why, but i think she'll call you bug pfft. she'll come up from behind saying, "there you are, bug. i've been lookin' for you," as she kisses your temple and you can feel her smiling mhmm. if she's taller than you, she likes to rest her chin on your shoulder. wait omg, imagine her calling you trouble. but lorddd she'd use so many nicknames, i think. babe, honey, hun, sweetheart etc etc. the girl has some variety, I’ll give her that

PERSONAL TRAINER ABBY! unfortunately, she can be such a dick lmao. if you're struggling with an exercise or with lifting weights, she'll just be watching you and laughing to herself. "you need some help with that, hun?" and you're whining at her to stop laughing and to hurry up and help you out. but she's so helpful and strong and attractive you can't stay mad at her for too long. like she'd grab your waist and fix your stance and when you get it right she’ll say something like “yeah, that’s it. you got it." she's always gonna encourage you to keep going. she'll really push your limits because she just wants you to do well. but this applies to lots of other things, not just gym. i honestly probably wouldn't be able to go to the gym with her because i'd be distracted by her the entire time. so.

playing fighting with abby. she gets so competitive and will do literally everything in her power to win. she's the furthest thing from a sore loser, thankfylly. she’s very conscious of her strength, so despite the fact that she’s literally able to toss you around like a bag of potatoes, she’s never hurt you by accident. she’d genuinely be so mortified if she thinks she hurt you. will literally sulk about it meanwhile you’re like “abby, I’m fine??”

she's always very relaxed whenever she's around you. i can't say she'd be smiley when there are other people around, but she'll have a kind of pleased and content expression on her face. but when you're alone? oh boy, have fun trying to wipe that cute ass smile off her face, because you can't! she's just very at ease when you're around teehee. her demeanour is a lot less tense than what it may be typically. honestly I think she’d just melt around you

abby isn't the biggest gossip around--if you ask her, she'll just shrug and say that that kind of stuff isn't something she's particularly interested in. however, she is absolutely invested in whatever gossip you have for her, even if she pretends to be nonchalant about it. she'd probably say some bullshit like, "babe, that kind of stuff isn't even worth your time." but then the next time she sees you she asks about it because she wants an update. talks shit but doesn’t consider it to be real gossip. “it’s called a discussion, not gossip.” she’ll say, like a fucking liar

she’s SO invested. always asking for updates, always asking questions. she tries to be subtle but honestly at some I’d think she’d give up and go all in

waterpolo player abby !

you literally cannot drag her away training so as a result she always smells like chlorine. she bitches about it all the time, too.

she’d look stupid as hell wearing the hats lmao i'd call her egghead or something

she definitely complains about how damaged her hair gets from all that swimming she does

idk about you guys but soggy Abby does something to me… like she's wearing her swimming costume and her hairs down and she’s still damp and you can see the water droplets on her skin and AAAAAAHJASHIEDQHV

don’t even try pushing her into the pool because she’ll drag you down with her lmao

she'd definitely be centre forward REAL

she could try drowning me and I wouldn’t really mind tbh. but ik for sure she’s a scary ass player. fast AND strong as hell? I’d be fighting for my life. make sure u don’t get hit in the head by a ball thrown by her bc you’d be asking for a concussion. also she seems like the kind of person who keeps elbowing people?? LMAO

my gay ass needs to be locked up NOW 😟

[bigoltrashpile]

Slasher Meet Cutes

For that lovely anon who reads all the slasher au stuff every fall UwU I was thinking, and what could be better than some fun little scenarios of meeting a murderer! Here's the original post if you don't know what I'm talking about, lol. I hope you enjoy!

Slasher Undertale Sans (Rubix): While Rubix doesn't do much of the dirty work as half of the Jigsaw killer, he does stake out potential victims. That's when he met you. He was following a potential victim, when the suspect bumped into you. Immediately, the asshole started blaming you, only getting more and more violent. When Sans stepped in to help you, the look of relief on your face was absolutely addicting. He wanted to see that expression every day. He just has to take care of this filth first.

Slasher Undertale Papyrus (Chess): Surprisingly, Chess meeting you had nothing to do with his secret life. He was walking his dog ("NOT MY DOG, HE JUST HANGS AROUND, AND NOBODY ELSE IS TAKING CARE OF HIM!") when Toby got off the leash and ran right over to you. Thankfully, you weren't mad, and seemed to enjoy petting the dog. However, Chess quickly noticed that you had a black eye, which you weakly explained away while you chatted. It looks like Chess has a new target, if he wanted to protect that beautiful smile.

Slasher Underswap Sans (Button): You would meet Button while he was still alive, so pre-doll body. However, like the regular Chucky, he was a criminal before his death. He met you while he was staking out a potential hit, a large store where you happened to be shopping. He got so engrossed in talking to you that he completely forgot about his job! Sadly, that store is also where he was killed. After his death, when you happened to walk into the doll shop, his heart skipped a beat. If he had one, that is. You will be his, he lost you once, it's not going to happen again.

Slasher Underswap Papyrus (Strings): Strings was always very charismatic, but not much of a social butterfly. He only met you after he began making dolls, after his brother's death. You both happened to be shopping at the same craft store, and Strings could practically feel himself falling for you when he saw you smile. While he couldn't muster the courage to talk to you, he followed you home after, completely forgetting about his errands! Don't worry, he'll formally meet you soon. He just has to make everything perfect.

Slasher Underfell Sans (Butcher): Your "meet cute" with Butcher is a classic final girl situation. You had been camping, and he had killed the rest of your group, leaving only you. He had his machete raised, about to kill you, but....you just looked so cute! You were trying to be brave, even though he was covered in your friends' blood. You held up a stick, face contorted with rage, and...well, he fell for you! That cute little face trying to fight back fear and be brave was just so cute! He'd have to keep you for himself. He wanted to see that cute face twisted up into other expressions~

Slasher Underfell Papyrus (Lucid): Like Button, Lucid knew you while he was still alive. He had a crush on you, even though he was far too proud to ever admit it. You lived next door to each other, and Noir would always try to show off whenever he got the chance. After he died, he searched endlessly to try and find your dreams. Once he found you, he began to follow you in your dreams every night. He's not sure if you've ever noticed the skeleton that appears to you every night. No matter what, you're the only one in town who never has nightmares.

Slasher Swapfell Sans (Rue): It was supposed to just be a regular job for Rue. He was going to kill you if you couldn't let go of your regrets, nothing crazy. Once you were able to let go successfully, though, he couldn't stop coming back. There was something...magnetic about you. He would watch you from the shadows, trying hard to think of something to say. Maybe he'll find a reason to get close to you again. For now though, he'll just watch you enjoy your life free from regret.

Slasher Swapfell Papyrus (Creeps): Like his brother, he's way too shy to talk to you. That could also be because he's a hermit who lives in his and his brother's derelict old house. But also because he's shy. When he met you, you were trying to help out a neighbor, whose cat ran into his yard. He was originally going to kill you for trespassing, but...just look at you! You're so sweet to help your neighbor, and the way your brows furrowed when you were worried is just adorable! He's not ashamed to admit that he followed you home and watched you the rest of the night. Don't worry, next Halloween, he's going to make sure to bring you home with him, where you belong. Then you can both be truly happy.

[nightowl374art]

Do you think that there was anything between gwen and hobie? Don't get mad just curious

There was lot between Gwen and Hobie and it’s all platonic. (Some of the best relationships out there are platonic tbh)

They’re good friends in my eyes. Compare Gwen’s relationship with Miles to her relationship with Hobie and you’ll see the differences. Even she said so. From my perspective, the whole crashing in Hobie’s dimension and leaving her sweater and toothbrush at his place, and wearing his chucks thing means literally nothing if you’re just friends with someone. Real friends don’t often feel weird about how comfortable they are with each other, like they’re crossing some imaginary line between friendship and love. I think that’s why Hobie was pretty transparent about their relationship in front of Miles—because there’s no romantic feelings there. Gwen said herself Miles would like Hobie because in her eyes, Hobie is a good friend and she would like Miles to experience that for himself.

And sorry if you didn’t sign up for all of this but if I were diving further…

After Gwen left her dad to join the spider society and she realized it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be (and she couldn’t visit Miles, the one reason she even wanted a dimensional watch) I’ve no doubt she was pretty depressed. I think she needed a friend and she found some refuge in Hobie—she was able to relax around him, have fun with him because he’s laid back (not judgmental) or constantly expecting something of her. It’s obvious Gwen feels weighed down by everyone else’s expectations of her. She’s held to a standard she can’t keep up with. Miguel sees her as a loose cannon, thus never wanting to rely on her. Jess immediately condemns her whenever she makes a mistake and shows little to no understanding. And we all saw what happened with Captain Stacy. Jeff and Rio had certain expectations and made snap judgments when they were not met. Even Miles himself had expectations (rightfully so). But it’s stressful to feel like you can never screw up or let anyone down. That’s a heavy burden for someone to bear alone, especially as a teenage girl who hasn’t really come into herself yet (trying to define who she is in the eyes of others.)

So in my opinion, Hobie was the only comfort Gwen had during her time in the spider society— a good reliable friend she could count on. A fun and helpful companion during their missions together. He gave her a place to stay when she needed it. (If that ain’t friendship I don’t know what is). He’s about the only person she can be completely authentic around because he himself is authentic. Hobie has that kind of rebel/doesn’t-give-a-fuck older sibling that’s already been through it and has gotten to the other side. He won’t let others dictate his worth and he chooses how he wants to live his life. I know Gwen admires that—she’d love to be that kind of person too but she’s not there yet.

Like everyone, Gwen has flaws and Hobie knows that, but he doesn’t use them against her. He chooses instead to see her potential. She was never made to feel like a failure around him. Hobie is an ally to the society rejects, “the outcasts” if you will. Just look how he helped Miles. Not to mention the fact he made Gwen a watch so she could go fix her mistake (again seeing the potential in her). Hobie is always there to give a hand up when people really need it most. People like Hobie are some of the truest friends and I think Gwen is very lucky to have him on her side.

In conclusion, Gwen and Hobie have a solid relationship and it’s something I admire. But I saw absolutely nothing romantic between them.

[kidspawn]

And Now, A Comprehensive Essay I Never Thought I'd Write:

I've seen people upset with Gabe's character in the show thus far. Saying he's too toned down, too "pathetic white trash" as opposed to abusive jerkass. I do understand why people are mad, but a few words in defense of this portrayal - and why it still works.

One: "He's too nice/soft/passive"

Um... absolutely not? This dude had me cringing and tensing up as soon as we meet him. Percy tenses and goes on the defensive, starts shooting comebacks. Gabe, seeing a tense and emotionally drained child, immediately comes at him, berating him for misbehaving.

He snaps at Sally, basically loses his shit at the idea of her leaving the apartment. She has to negotiate with him to leave her own apartment? To use the car? I don't care if she's "standing her ground" more. (Which, she isn't, but that's a whole other topic.) He's still being a douche.

There are aspects of Gabe's book characterization that are lost in media translation. For instance, Percy giving him money. "Whenever I was home, he expected me to provide his gambling funds. He called that our 'guy secret.' Meaning, if I told my mom, he would punch my lights out" (The Lightning Thief, pg. 31) This is Percy's internal monologue. When Percy enters their apartment in the book, Gabe is just a dick. Yes, he's not pestering Percy for money but he's doing everything else. I wouldn't be surprised if this information about Gabe comes to light the further into the story we go. Rick Riordan isn't trying to erase the abuse, but drawing attention to the intricacies and subtleties of abuse.

Two: "Sally is too assertive/fights back/etc"

Please, kindly, screw off with that "perfect victim" line of thinking. Just because Percy and Sally aren't crying, sobbing, etc, doesn't mean they're not being abused? First of all, that would be out of character. No doubt about that.

The only thing different between the scene in the book versus the show is how Sally manipulates/negotiates with Gabe. She has a different tone here, sure, but let's face it - Sally doesn't particularly like Gabe. He is a means to an end. She doesn't care too much about hurting his feelings here. She's placating. She's leveraging what little she has to get something from him. In the books, it was bean dip. In the show, its sandwiches and watching a game together. Sally doesn't care for Gabe, but Gabe obviously has interest in Sally, or spending time with her. She's leveraging her time and her resources to get her kid to Camp Half-Blood. She knows what's going to work because she's been dealing with this for so long.

And don't pretend like Gabe using the word "please" is changing the horrid tone he uses with Sally. Neither Percy or Sally flinch when he yells. This isn't a rare occurrence. Gabe probably yells all the time. But it's been happening long enough they're both desensitized to it.

These aspects aren't that different from the book.

Yes, the abuse is subtle, a few tweaks to appease an admittedly young target audience. But it is there. It's solely disappointing to me that subtext has seemingly been lost.

Three: "He's just average white trash."

Is that not... the point? He's... just a basic mortal? He's so abysmally human, so utterly mundane that he masks Percy's smell. He's crummy, and slimy, and awful. He doesn't strive for more, he doesn't aspire for more. He's a bully. He's awful to Percy, he yells at Sally. The only thing different about him in the show so far is he hasn't hit Sally yet.

(Yet. By the way. There's only two episodes out. We find out he's hitting Sally at the end of the source material. He never hits Percy onscreen, it's stated in internal monologue.)

Details will be lost in translation, of course, but please I cannot stress enough how little of the show we've seen. We don't know how they're going to explore Percy's characterization and reaction to abuse. There will be flashbacks, opportunities to flesh out the relationships and characters. Just because Rick changed aspects to keep people from being triggered doesn't mean he's going to let audiences go on believing this kind of behavior is ok. (At least, I hope he doesn't.)

Gabe Ugliano is still a piece of garbage. He is a horrendous human being. It's baffling to me that no one's believing that based on what we've seen of him. Not once did I think he was "toned down." I had a hard time rewatching that scene. The verbal belittlement, the subtle manipulation and control he's asserting into their lives. He's awful to Percy, he's awful to Sally.

Also, I reiterate: there are only two episodes out. Give the story time to breathe. Give the team time to deal with this storyline and flesh out this aspect of Sally and Percy's relationship.