#you get that it's weird to act like we're the weird ones for responding to provocation. you have to get that that is a weird way to think.

[etheraltides]

Shelter in the Storm

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summarize: Rafe is acting weird during the storm and you’re about to find out why

Warning(s): mention of gun, protective Rafe.

A/N: feedback always make me happier, love y’all – also tysm for all the love in my fics

The storm outside was relentless, sheets of rain hammering against the windows. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a low growl that felt too close, too ominous. Rafe stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the faint glow of the firelight. His jaw was tense, his hands flexing open and shut at his sides.

You had packed a bag and driven to Rafe's earlier today when you received a warning in your phone about the upcoming storm, not wanting to risk staying at yours to see the damage - your small house in the Cut had barely survived in the last one and neither you nor Rafe wanted to risk it. Not when his place was as much as yours as his.

You watched him from the couch, bundled up in an oversized sweater, your book abandoned beside you. He hadn’t spoken much since the phone call earlier, but his restlessness told you everything. Something was wrong.

“Rafe.” you said softly, pulling his attention away from the storm.

He turned, his blue eyes darker than usual, stormier. He didn’t respond, just studied you for a moment like he was trying to memorize every detail. It wasn’t unusual for him to brood, but tonight, something felt different. He never got that weird over business that went wrong.

“You’ve been pacing for twenty minutes, quiet ever since I've arrived. What’s going on, baby?” you asked, your voice laced with concern.

Rafe exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

You frowned, sitting up straighter. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.”

“It’s not shutting you out, alright? ” he snapped, then immediately softened his tone as he noticed you flinch, his chest tightening with guilty. “It’s keeping you safe.”

“From what?”

His eyes flicked away, unable to hold your gaze. His silence was answer enough.

“Rafe…” You stood, crossing the room to stand in front of him. Your hand rested lightly on his clothed chest. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He hesitated, torn between wanting to protect you and needing to tell someone. He didn't like to keep things from you. Finally, he sighed. “You remember Morroco?”

Your brow furrowed. “The trip? Of course.”

He had called you to meet him by the beach, kissing you goodbye as he said he had an important last meeting to close a massive deal and that it'd probably take him a few weeks before he was back.

“It wasn't just a trip.” he said bitterly. “It’s a mess. A deal went sideways, I went after Groff to get my money back and then... Then there was this blue crown treasure hunt with those... pogues. We crossed some people." His jaw clenched. “Now they’re coming for me.”

Your blood ran cold as you tried to process everything. Not even paying a big attention to the fact that Rafe had lied to you. “They?”

“Mercenaries” he admitted, the word dripping with disdain. “Hired guns who don’t care about anything but the paycheck and that fucking crown that slipped away from our fingers."

Fear pricked at the edges of your mind, you could hear your heartbeats in your ears. Mercenaries. “And you think they’ll come here, after you?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I’m not taking any chances.”

You stepped closer, your hands gripping his arms. “Rafe, we should call someone - Shoupe, the poli—”

“No,” he interrupted sharply. “The cops won’t do anything. I’ll handle it, okay? I can take care of my own shit."

“You can’t handle this alone, Rafe. We're talking about mercenaries and not a cougar whose money went sideways in a deal!” you argued, your voice rising slightly.

“I’m not letting you get involved,” he said firmly, his hands resting on your shoulders. His touch was warm, grounding.

“I’m already involved,” you countered, your voice softening. “I care about you, Rafe. That means I’m in this with you, whether you like it or not.”

His expression cracked, the tough exterior slipping to reveal the vulnerability underneath. “You don’t get it,” he whispered, his hands sliding down your arms. “You’re the only thing I’ve got that’s good. If something happens to you because of me—” He broke off, shaking his head.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” you said, stepping even closer. Your hands rested on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. “You’re here. You’ll keep me safe.”

He stared at you, his breath hitching slightly. “You have too much faith in me,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“I have the right amount,” you whispered back.

For a moment, the tension hung heavy between you, the storm outside roaring as if reflecting the chaos inside him. Then, before you could say anything else, Rafe’s hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks.

“You’re so damn stubborn,” he muttered, a small, almost pained smile tugging at his lips.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were swallowed as his lips met yours. The kiss was desperate, almost frantic, like he needed to remind himself you were here, with him, safe. His hands slid into your hair, holding you to him as if letting go wasn’t an option.

Your hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. The warmth of his body, the way he kissed you — it all felt like a promise, and a plea rolled into one.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing heavy. “I’m not letting them get near you,” he vowed, his voice raw.

“They won’t,” you assured him, nodding as your hands smoothed over his chest.

He kissed you again, slower this time, his hands skimming down your sides. When he pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around your waist, you felt the full weight of his fear and his determination.

“I should send you away,” he muttered against your hair, his lips brushing your temple. “Somewhere safe. Away from Outer Banks."

You leaned back, meeting his gaze. “No. I’m staying right here. With you.”

Rafe stared at you, his jaw tightening. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” you said with a small smile, not wanting him to know how terrified you actually were. “But so are you. We’re a good match, remember?"

Despite himself, he chuckled, his grip on you tightening. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way,” you teased.

He didn’t answer; he just pressed another kiss on your forehead before pulling you into his chest. His hand smoothed over your back, lingering there as if the simple act could protect you from the world.

After the conversation, the weight of the threat hanging over him, Rafe couldn’t let you out of his sight. He needed to feel you close, needed to know you were safe in a way that words couldn’t assure him - and it didn't help that you decided to organize everything that was out of place, moving between the rooms without saying anything. He knew you were stressed. You always clean whenever anxiety hits you.

“C’mon,” he murmured, his voice low as his arms slid around your waist.

You blinked up at him, confused. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your cheeks flushed. “I can walk, Rafe.”

“Not tonight,” he said, shaking his head. “Let me do this.”

Before you could protest, Rafe bent down and swept you into his arms as if you weighed nothing. You let out a soft yelp of surprise, your arms instinctively looping around his neck.

“Rafe—”

“Shh,” he murmured, glancing down at you with a small, almost teasing smirk. “Just let me take care of you for once, okay?”

You pressed your lips together, your cheeks warming at the way he held you so effortlessly, his grip steady and secure. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a calming rhythm that contrasted with the chaos of the storm outside.

The walk to the bedroom was silent, save for the sound of the rain pounding against the roof. Rafe nudged the door open with his foot, carrying you inside. The room was dark except for the faint glow of a lamp on the nightstand, casting warm light over the space.

He set you down gently on the bed, his hands lingering on your hips for a moment before he stepped back. You watched as he moved around the room, double-checking the locks on the windows and door. His movements were methodical, his expression tense.

“Rafe,” you said softly, sitting up. “You don’t have to do all this.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yes, I do.”

You wanted to argue, but something in his tone stopped you. He was carrying more than just worry — it was guilt, fear, and the overwhelming need to protect you. It was his way of tricking himself into believing he had some control over the whole situation.

Once he was satisfied, Rafe returned to the bed. You noticed the subtle way he opened the drawer of his bedside table, checking the loaded gun inside.

Your stomach tightened. “Do you really think it’ll come to that?”

His gaze flicked to you, softening slightly. “It’s just a precaution,” he said, his voice steady.

You nodded, though the thought of him having to use it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Come here,” he said, holding out a hand.

You crawled toward him, settling into his arms as he pulled you close. His body was warm, solid, and the way his arms wrapped around you made you feel like nothing in the world could touch you.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“What about you?” you asked, your voice muffled against his chest.

“I’ll sleep,” he promised. “Just need to make sure you’re out first.”

You frowned but didn’t push further. His hand smoothed over your back in slow, soothing strokes, lulling you into a sense of security.

Eventually, your breathing evened out, and Rafe let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

He stayed awake, his eyes scanning the room, his ears attuned to every sound beyond the rain. Every creak of the house set his muscles on edge, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. But then he’d look down at you—your peaceful face, your fingers loosely curled against his chest — and the storm inside him would quiet, even if just for a moment.

Carefully, so as not to wake you, Rafe reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered, tracing the curve of your cheek.

“You don’t even know how much you mean to me,” he whispered, his voice so soft it was nearly drowned out by the rain.

His hand moved to your shoulder, then down your arm, his touch light, almost reverent. He wanted to memorize every detail—the way your skin felt against his, the rise and fall of your breathing, the warmth you radiated.

For a long time, he just watched you, his thumb idly brushing against your arm.

No one would hurt you. Not the mercenaries, not anyone. He’d burn the world down before he let anyone take you from him.

When his exhaustion finally began to creep in, Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear. Even if it's the last thing I do.”

With one hand resting on the gun in the drawer and the other wrapped protectively around you, Rafe finally allowed his eyes to close, the storm outside fading into the background.

As long as you were in his arms, nothing else mattered.

[bsturnzmtts]

Friends? - Matt Sturniolo

Re uploaded because my account bsturnzmtt got deactivated :( Please follow and let me know if you want to be in my tag list !

(A/n: on my last account I posted this in two parts here it’s all in one part)

Paring: bsf!Matt x bsf! Reader

Contains/warnings: p in v, use of vibrator, oral, fingering, teasing, pet names

Summary: Your best friend Matt finds your vibrator...

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Your best friend Matt is staying over at your place for a sleepover, this is very common in your friendship. Another thing that’s common is flirting and teasing, but you two decided that it was platonic although sometimes it doesn’t look like it…

Right now you two are laying in your bed already in pjs exchanging weird questions and thoughts.

“Matt ass or tits?” You ask him as you laugh.

Laughs mischievously, turning to face you “Oh, real mature...” he smirks “Well, if we're playing that game...” Looks at you up and down briefly teasing you before continuing “I'd have to sayyyy tits”

You nod as you hear his answer. “Hm yeah, I had a feeling” you say as you chuckle.

Giggles mischievously “Oh really?...” He leans in a bit closer, the room dimly lit “So you think about my preferences like that, huh?”

You roll your eyes “Ughh nope, never said that”

“Mhm...” He pokes your side playfully “Liar...” His grin widens, teeth glinting in the low light. “But for real, if we're asking personal questions...” He pauses, tilts his head slightly. “What's your biggest turn-on?”

You laugh at his question. “Yeah I’m not answering that” you sit up on the bed. “I’m going to the bathroom” you say before getting up and going to the bathroom.

Matt only smirks as you exit the room because it means he has time to snoop around your stuff.

As soon as you leave the room, Matt's curiosity gets the better of him. He quietly gets out of bed and starts searching your room. He opens your drawers, at the third drawer his eyes immediately land on a medium sized box. His eyes glint with curiosity and he decides to open it… As he opens it the box reveals a very intimate object, a vibrator.

Matt's eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he sees the vibrator. A mischievous grin spreads across his face. He picks it up, examining it with a playful smirk. Then he decides to tease you about it but not yet, so he puts it in his pocket for now.

You exit the bathroom and go back to your bed, sitting and resting your back in the headboard.

Matt jumps back into bed, acting nonchalant. He grins mischievously at you. "Took you long enough, I was getting bored without you."

“Yeah yeah, I know you can’t live without me” you answer.

He leans against the headboard next to you, mirroring your posture. "Well, not completely untrue..." He drags out the last word, then playfully nudges your shoulder with his. "So... Where were we before you so rudely left me?"

“Hmmmm” you pretend to think “I don’t remember”

He chuckles and shakes his head, reaching out to gently tug on your hair. "Liar," he says softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You know exactly what we were talking about before you left." He pauses, his gaze lingering on yours. "The biggest turn-on question, remember?"

“Ohhh yeah now I remember, and I also remember telling you that I’m not answering that” you respond.

Matt laughs, leaning in closer. "Come on, it's just me." He playfully nudges your arm. "I promise I won't judge... Unless it's something really weird, like feet or something."

“Ewww noo, I don’t even know my answer”

He raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Oh really? You mean to tell me the great Y/n doesn't know what gets her all hot and bothered?" He smirks, his voice lowering teasingly. "I find that hard to believe."

“Why’d you wanna know so bad anyways?” You ask raising your eyebrows teasingly.

Matt's grin widens, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, you know... Just trying to learn more about my favorite person." He reaches out to boop your nose playfully. "Plus, it's fun to get under your skin a little." He winks.

“Well next question, cause I’m not answering that one”

He chuckles, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it. You're a closed book." He leans back, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm”

“Wait why don’t you answer your own question”

Matt's eyes light up with a playful challenge. "Oh ho! Trying to turn the tables on me, are you?" He grins, considering for a moment. "But that’s not how it works, I’ll only answer if you answer"

“Yeah, cause yours is probably some weird shit” You laugh and nudge him.

Matt laughs, feigning offense. "Hey, hey! I'll have you know my turn-ons are perfectly normal!" He smirks, his gaze flicking down to your lips briefly. "Mostly..." His eyes glint mischievously as he looks back up at you.

You turn your head to face him, your faces are now close. “uh huh… sure they are” you smirk.

Matt's smirk grows wider, his face inches from yours. He reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips grazing your skin. "Let's just say I have a thing for smart mouths and stubborn personalities," he murmurs, his breath whispering against your lips.

Your faces are now really close and the tension is definitely there. “Yeah?” You ask teasingly.

Matt's eyes lock onto yours, his gaze intense. He leans in closer, his lips almost touching yours. "Yeah," he breathes, his voice low and husky. Just as he's about to kiss you, he pauses, a playful glint in his eye.

Your eyes roam down to his lips before facing away.

Matt chuckles softly, noticing your gaze. "Tease," he murmurs, but there's no real annoyance in his tone. He then reaches into his pocket pulling out the vibrator, dangling it in front of you teasingly. He chuckles mischievously. “I must admit, I’m quite curious how you use this…”

Your eyes turn to look at him and they immediately widen in shock seeing the object in Matts hands.

Matt grins wickedly, clearly enjoying your shocked expression. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He dangles the vibrator playfully, his eyes never leaving yours. "I found this in your nightstand earlier. Quite the interesting discovery, wouldn't you say?"

“Ugh how did you find that? But it back” you as you try to reach for it.

Matt holds it out of reach, laughing at your futile attempt. "Ah, ah, ah," he teases, holding the vibrator just out of your grasp. "You're going to have to do better than that." His gaze drops to your chest, appreciatively.

“Maaaatt come on” you try harder to reach it.

Matt takes a step back, easily keeping the toy out of reach. "Not until you answer my question," he says, grinning mischievously. "I mean, I'm curious. How do you like to use it? Slow and gentle, or hard and fast?"

“Ugh” you lean back giving up. “I-… I haven’t used it, it’s new”

Matt's grin widens, clearly pleased with himself for getting you to admit it. "New, huh?" He pockets the vibrator, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Well, since it's new, I think it's only fair that I show you how to use it properly."

“Ha ha funny” you roll your eyes at his words “now give it back”

Matt ignores your demand, instead wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. "Oh, I am dead serious," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "In fact, I think we should try it out right now." His hand slowly slides down your side, his touch gentle.

“Matt-“ you try your say something be he doesn’t let you.

“Shhhhh” He leans in, pressing soft kisses along your neck and collarbone. His hands explore your body slowly, learning every curve.

His touch is gentle yet firm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His hands gradually move towards the bottom of your shirt slowly, playing with the hem of your shirt. His kisses trailing downwards. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire. "Tell me to stop if you want me to," he whispers, his voice hoarse.

You could feel your body heating up in desire. “Don’t stop” you shyly respond with a whisper.

Matt smiles against your skin, his hands slipping under your shirt and caressing your bare stomach. He continues his explorations, his hands gliding up your sides and cupping your breasts through your bra. He looks up at you, seeking approval, his fingers tracing the lace edge of your bra. You give him a small nod of approval.

Matt takes that as permission, unhooking your bra with expert fingers. He slides the straps down your shoulders, his touch reverent as he bares you to him. He leans down, capturing one hard peak in his mouth. He sucks gently, his tongue swirling around the bud.

You bite and close your eyes as you feel his tongue flicking the sensitive bud. “Mmhh”.

Matt hums against your skin, the vibrations adding to the sensation. He switches to the other breast, giving it the same attention. His hands continue to explore, caressing down your sides and slipping into the waistband of your silk pijama shorts. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire. Your eyes full of lust and desire meets his.

Matt's hands slide further into your shorts, his fingers brushing against your warm core. He looks at you, seeking permission, which you approve, his fingers gently parting your folds. He bites his lip as he feels how wet you are, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your clit. "So wet for me already,"

You let out small whimpers as you feel his fingers.

Matt grins wickedly, his fingers slipping inside of you. "Let's see how you take this shall we?" He pulls his hand out from your shorts and takes them off along with you panties leaving you exposed. Then he retrieves the vibrator from his pocket. He turns it on, the hum of the toy filling the room.

He runs the vibrator along your inner thighs, the cool surface sending shivers down your spine. He presses it against your clit, the vibrations making you jerk in surprise. "Oh fuck, look at you," he whispers, his eyes glued to the toy as it buzzes against your sensitive nub.

You whimper and moan as your body squirm. “Mmh fuck Matt”

Matt smirks at your reaction, pressing the vibrator harder against you. His other hand slides down, two fingers slipping inside your tight heat. "That's it baby, let me hear you," he growls, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

“Oh fuck” you moan loudly as you feel his fingers stretching you out.

Matt's fingers curl up, finding that sweet spot inside of you. He presses the vibrator harder against you, increasing the speed. His eyes flick up to your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. "Look at you, taking it so well,"

“Mh Matt I’m so close” you whine and whimper pathetically.

Matt's grin widens, his fingers and the vibrator working in perfect harmony. "Come on baby, let it happen," he encourages, his voice low and husky. He adds a third finger, scissoring them inside of you as he increases the speed of the vibrator.

“Fuck Matt” you moan as you cum.

Matt holds you steady as your orgasm rips through you, the vibrator still buzzing against your clit. He keeps his fingers pumping inside of you, milking out every last drop of your climax. As you slowly come down, he turns off the vibrator and gently pulls his fingers out of your trembling pussy.

He leans up and captures your mouth in a searing kiss. "You're so responsive," he whispers against your lips, nuzzling your neck. "I'm not done with you yet." He starts unbuckling his belt, his eyes filled with determination. "I need to be inside you."

Matt finishes unbuckling his belt and unbuttons his pants, shoving them down along with his boxers. He steps out of them, standing naked before you. His hard length juts out, curving slightly upwards. He steps back between your spread thighs, wrapping his hands around your hips.

Your eyes widen at his length. “Fuck Matt… I don’t think it’s going to fit”

Matt chuckles, positioning himself at your entrance. "Oh, it'll fit. I'll make sure of that." He rubs the tip of his cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

He slowly pushes into you, his hands gripping your hips. He looks into your eyes, his own filled with concentration. "You're so tight," he grinds out, inching deeper and deeper. He pauses halfway, letting you adjust to his size. "Okay?" he asks, his voice strained.

“Mmh mhm hurts a bit, but it’s okay” you reassure him.

Matt nods, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He starts to move, slowly at first. He pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in, stretching you deliciously. His hips set a steady rhythm, each thrust pushing him deeper.

Then quickly the pain turned into pure pleasure. “Mmh fuck Matt”.

Matt's pace quickens as he feels your body relax around him. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, allowing him to go even deeper. The new angle has him hitting your g-spot with each thrust. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he groans, his hips snapping against yours.

“Ohhh god Matt” you keep moaning and whimpering.

Matt leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours. He swallows your moans as he continues his relentless pace. His free hand slides between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

Your back arches in pleasure “mmh I’m close”

Matt breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Come on, baby," he urges, his fingers rubbing your clit furiously. "Cum all over my cock." He thrusts deep one last time, grinding against your g-spot as he hits your sweet spot.

“Fuuuuccckk” you moan loudly as you cum and your body shudders.

Matt lets out a low groan, feeling your walls spasm around him. He grinds against you, drawing out your release. He can feel his own release building, his body tensing as he nears the edge. With one final, deep thrust, Matt buries himself inside you and explodes, his hot seed filling your pussy. He collapses on top of you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he stays buried inside you. "Fuck,"

Matt nuzzles into your neck, pressing soft kisses to your sweat-slicked skin. "You okay?" he murmurs, his voice low and slightly hoarse. He slowly pulls out of you, his softened cock slipping free.

Your still breathless but you still give him a reassuring nod. “Mhm”

Matt rolls to the side, pulling you into his arms. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingers trailing down your cheek. "That was incredible," he says with a satisfied grin. He leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

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[thatswhatsushesaid]

i think fandom spaces would become much more enjoyable across the board if people stopped flipping their pancakes over other fans enjoying characters that they don't like. or, god forbid, like them but in 'the wrong way.'

[voiceless-people]

What is it with ppl who I've vaguely interacted with once deciding to msg me??

(Tags for more)

[savanir]

A sister's love

The justice league hurriedly responds to a call for backup at a little in the middle of nowhere place by the name of Amity Park. 

The situation had seemed so simple. 

A Star Sapphire had suddenly shown up on Earth which isn’t immediately cause for concern but she was unidentified, so a lantern was definitely going to have to look into it if only just to make sure that nothing bad was going on. There are two planet side green lanterns, Simon and Jessica. So they responded to handle the potential situation. 

Things rapidly spun out of control when they realized it wasn't just a Star Sapphire. 

"I hate to say this but we're gonna need backup" Simon tells Cyborg, "the Star Sapphire has brought something with her. My first guess was a white martian but..." The other one can do some manner of density shifting, and he can go invisible, but they know ways around that. Whatever this one is doing isn’t that though.

"Why isn't this working!?!" Comes Jessica's slightly panicked voice in the distance, "he keeps just going through my creations! dammit, think think Jess" She tried to contain him with a flamethrower construct but he just ignored it, like he’s seemingly ignoring everything else she’s throwing at him.

"Our constructs have zero effect on the other one, the alien, meta? man I don’t know he’s human shaped" 

"What is the situation other than the two hostiles?"

"Uh we got some government agents who are retreating because of the Star Sapphire wrecking their stuff. And the civilian people here seem to be falling under her influence, so she must be human. She's from here, she needs emotional connection to pull that stuff off."

The people are furious, the violet glow around them clearly indicates that the girl is using her ring to amp them up but if Simon didn’t know any better he’d say this was red lantern stuff.

Well there are more ways to whip people up into a frenzy, by hurting their loved ones for example.

There is a brief moment where it can be heard that Simon and Jessica try to get into a more advantageous position. 

Simon grunts, "dammit, those agents seemed to have weapons that actually worked on the other guy but the Star Sapphire used her violet constructs to shield him and destroy their guns and we've been struggling since" this whole situation stinks, he has a weird feeling about all of it.

"Simon this is really really bad, i can't keep restraining all these civilians, we're running out of energy fast!"

Cyborg tries to get a visual on the situation from his position in the Watchtower while he’s notifying any league affiliated heroes who are nearby and available. 

But all of a sudden he realizes there is just nothing, just a big lap of void where the two lanterns are supposed to be, there is no cctv footage, no cell towers, no internet connection. Just what the hell is going on here.

Then the audio transmission starts to violently crackle.

A new voice laced with static can suddenly be heard, "There you two are"

"Shit"

"Is the justice league coming yet? Are they finally going to do something?" the staticy voice continues.

"Stay back you-"

"Or maybe they still need more of a reason to act" 

The audio cuts out. 

"Jessica! Simon! Come in!" ... "Shit!" 

Cyborg finally gets a clear picture with the satellite cameras and now sees the entirety of Amity Park has been covered with a crystalized violet dome. It’s then that he remembers the story Hal told quite some time ago now about a Star Sapphire who managed to put a whole planet into love stasis.

They are gonna need more help with this one he thinks.

Meanwhile Jazz is still shakily trying to figure out how her new pink powers work, now that all the fighting is over (for now), the GIW forcefully expelled from Amity, and the two Justice league people captured and restrained.

Everything happened so fast, one moment the GIW had knocked out her brother and were forcefully taking him away and while she saw them drive off (she was pretty sure she was screaming) a pink thing just froze her in place, She was pretty sure someone said something about “great love in her heart” and then she was… well she was flying and- and there wasn’t really any time to question things then so she may have kinda gone and ripped into the van that had Danny.

She’s pretty sure she healed him, and then things just completely spiraled out of control from that point on. and now she’s here.

She’s pretty sure this is crazy villain behavior, she’s going to get put on some sort of watchlist and then she’ll never get to be a psychologist but it’s fine.

Her little brother is safe, that’s all that matters. And she will keep it that way.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　TOO MUCH

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt and Nick say some hurtful things to Chris during a fight, bringing his insecurities to life and causing him to turn to his anchor, Y/N.

WARNING: Insecurities, fighting, crying, anxiety attack.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The noise in the living room had escalated from playful teasing in front of the camera to sharp, biting words. Chris stood behind the kitchen table, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he glared at Matt and Nick, who were both looking at him from the other side of the table with expressions caught between frustration and exasperation.

"Do you ever think before you act, Chris?" Matt's voice was, surprisingly, raised, an edge of impatience in his tone. "We can’t get through one day without you doing something childish and making a scene, or worse, making our videos look like shit because of it!"

Chris’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond immediately, his eyes darting between his brothers, trying to make sense of how things had gotten so out of hand.

"I wasn’t trying to do anything." He muttered finally, his voice barely above a whisper laced with hurt. "I was just... being myself."

"Yeah, exactly." Nick jumped in, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "And that’s the problem. You’re always yelling and doing the most, Chris. It’s just... exhausting, okay?"

Chris clenched his fists, jaw tight as he glared at Nick, feeling himself crumbling a bit because sure, he’s too much. Sure, he speaks too loud and had opinions about everything and wasn’t afraid to share them, even if they were about the silliest things. Sure, he feels cornered and childish and immature and annoying, and most of what they're saying is probably true, but hearing his own brothers say it out loud... it pains his heart.

"You know, that’s actually rich coming from you." He shot back, his voice carrying a frustration he couldn’t hold back, trying to disguise his pain with anger. "You’re always the first to say that people watch us because we’re different, because even though we look the same, we're still different. But all you ever do is complain that I’m not just like you or Matt!”

Nick’s expression shifted, taken aback by Chris’s words. But Nick wasn’t one to back down, his voice snapping back almost before Chris had finished speaking.

"That’s not what I’m saying at all!" He fired, eyes narrowing. "Is it so insane to want you to stop yelling and acting like a literal child in every video? We’re trying to be professional, Chris! People like us, yeah, but they won’t if you keep acting like-"

Chris dragged a hand over his face, pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead, trying to shut out Nick’s words, trying to drown out the overwhelming feeling of being misunderstood.

"... and we can’t keep dealing with it, Chris. Grow the fuck up."

The youngest felt his chest tighten even more. His greatest insecurity - one that clawed at his chest every night when he couldn’t sleep, when the silence around him became deafening - was now on full display, brutally brought to life by the people he trusted most.

The internet was relentless in labeling him as "the weird one", the "annoying triplet", just because he was loud and talked too much, just because he was unapologetically himself. He’d laugh it off, of course, joke about it even because it was easier to pretend it didn’t bother him. But deep down, those words haunted him, scraping at the edges of his self-worth, making him wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t enough.

And now, hearing Matt and Nick throw those same words at him... he felt hollow. Like all the air had been knocked from his lungs. They knew. They knew how those comments got to him, how hard he tried to ignore it, to rise above the criticism.

"Fine." He said bitterly, hating how his voice trembled slightly as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I’ll get out of your way, then."

He pushed his weight off of the table, preparing himself to get out of there, but as Chris stormed away, Nick's frustration boiled over, and he turned to Matt, his voice sharp and incredulous.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He hissed, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

But Chris kept walking, his shoulders tense as he made his way to the stairs, refusing to let himself look back. His brothers’ voices felt like static at this point, blending into the background as he forced himself to keep going.

Behind him, Matt muttered under his breath, an edge of impatience creeping in.

"Why is he being so dramatic?" He called, exasperation evident in his tone. "Chris, just come back, man! Let’s finish this video."

But Chris didn’t even slow down. Each word felt like salt in a wound he was struggling to ignore, a constant reminder that he wasn’t on the same level as them, that they were all looking at him like he was the problem.

Maybe he was.

As he went down the stairs, his mind was racing, every emotion simmering just below the surface.

His hands trembled slightly as he reached his bedroom door, a mix of anger, shame, and sadness twisting in his chest, his breath hitching as he struggled to keep it together. He wanted to scream, to push all the hurt away.

Finally, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Y/N - curled up on his bed with notebooks spread around her and laptop balanced on her knees - looked up instantly, a huge smile spreading across her face as she noticed him, her expression so genuinely happy to see him that it made his heart ache even more.

"Hi, honey! How was filming?" She greeted brightly, unaware of the turmoil written across his face.

But her smile faltered quickly as she took in his red-rimmed eyes, the way his face seemed almost haunted, his body tense and trembling as he stood frozen in the doorway. She blinked, worry flashing across her features.

"Chris? Hey, what happened?" The girl whispered, and her words were like a lifeline, breaking the dam he’d tried so hard to keep in place.

She was quick in put her work together, placing her notebooks and laptop gently onto the floor beside her, leaving it all opened for her to come back to it later, her arms instinctively opening up to him.

"Come here, baby."

Without another thought, Chris crossed the room and collapsed into her open arms, sinking onto the bed as if the weight of the world had become too much for him to bear alone.

His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his face burrowing into her shoulder as if he could somehow hide from everything that had been clawing at him. His legs slid between her thighs, his body curling into hers, every part of him drawn in close, seeking refuge in the only place that felt safe.

Y/N didn’t say anything at first. She could feel the way his shoulders shook, the silent sobs racking through him as he tried to hold back, his breath catching painfully against her neck. She held him even tighter, her hands slipping up to cradle the back of his head, her fingers threading gently through his fluff hair as she pressed soft, reassuring kisses to his forehead, his temple, anywhere she could reach.

"Shh... It’s okay, sweetheart." She murmured softly, pressing her lips to his line of hair. "I'm here. You're safe. Just breathe, Chris. Just breathe, baby."

But Chris felt anything but safe in his own skin. Shame and hurt twisted inside him, tightening like a vice around his chest. He tried to fold himself even smaller, curling tighter into her, trying to somehow look smaller for a 5'8 grown man, pressing his body as close to hers as he could.

He wanted to disappear, to melt into her embrace, and let the world live freely without his presence. The words Matt and Nick had thrown at him - the very same words he read online, the labels he was used to brushing off - felt so true, so much a part of him that he couldn’t deny them.

Childish. Annoying. Immature.

He hated himself in that moment, hated how much he cared, hated how the words dug under his skin, making him feel unworthy, unloved.

"Am I... am I really that annoying?" He whispered, his voice cracking and sounding more horse than it should. "Do you... Do you think I’m too much, too?"

Y/N’s heart twisted painfully as she heard his words, the broken way he spoke them. She frowned deeply, pulling back just enough to look down at him, her hand cupping his wet cheek as she met his gaze, her thumb brushing away a stray tear that had slipped down his face.

"Oh, sweetheart..." She shook her head gently, her voice laced with disbelief and fierce love. "No. No, Chris, of course not. You’re not annoying. You’re not too much. You’re everything I could ever want. You’re perfect exactly the way you are."

He clenched his fists, gripping onto Y/N’s hoodie - or better, his own blue hoodie -, his knuckles white with the force of it as he tried to agree with her, but her words didn’t seem to reach him. His brow furrowed, his eyes filling with fresh tears as he choked out.

"They said... They said I’m always yelling, being loud, making a scene... like I’m always... embarrassing them." His voice caught on the last words, his breath hitching as he fought to keep from breaking down completely.

Y/N held him tighter, her hand moving to the bottom of his white shirt, traveling inside of it only to rub soothing circles along his naked back as she spoke in a soft, steady tone, hoping her words would anchor him.

"Chris, they love you. They’re just... they don’t understand how much their words hurt sometimes. But that doesn’t mean you’re a burden or that you’re too much. You bring so much joy and energy to everything. That’s part of who you are, and it’s one of the things I love most about you."

He shook his head slightly, his breathing coming faster as anxiety started to build again, overtaking him.

"I... I just don’t get it. One minute, they’re saying people watch us because we’re different... and then they tell me I should be more like them. I don’t... I don’t know how to be that. I tried so hard to be like them, you have to believe me, but I don’t know how to change who I am-"

Y/N felt the depth of his frustration in the desperate way that he begged, wanting - no, needing - her to believe him. She cupped his face gently, urging him to look at her.

"You don’t have to change, Chris. Not for anyone. You’re enough just as you are, baby. And you’re not a burden. Not to me, not to anyone who really sees you and loves you for who you are."

He nodded slowly, finally trying to take a deep breath, only to feel like his nose was closed and his throat was being chocked by invisible hands. He closed his eyes forcefully, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he tried to breathe in a gulp of air that never seemed to be enough. Chris could feel his heart tightening, his chest struggling in the quick movements of going up and down too many times in a second.

"Can't- I... Please-" He tried, tightening his hands around her hoodie, panicking with the anxiety attack that seemed to come so suddenly.

"Hey, hey, Chris. Sweetheart, you’re okay." Y/N whispered softly, her voice a calming presence against the storm inside him. She shifted slightly, one hand now resting on his chest with a firm press as she guided him through deep breaths, her own voice slow and steady. "Come on, just breathe with me, okay? In... and out... Nice and slow. I’m right here with you."

Following her lead, Chris pressed his eyes tighter in a way that made him see stars behind his eyelids, focusing on the rhythm of her voice, the rise and fall of her own breathing against his fists. With each exhale, he felt a bit of the tension release, his chest loosening as he tried to match her calming breaths.

Gradually, his racing heart began to slow, the adrenaline draining from his body, leaving him feeling heavy, exhausted.

Y/N smiled softly, brushing her fingers through his hair as she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"There you go. That’s it... Well done, my strong boy. Now, just relax. I’ve got you."

As his breathing evened out, Chris opened his eyes slowly, his blurred gaze meeting hers with a vulnerability that tore at her heart.

"You don’t have to carry all of this alone, Chris. I’m always here for you, no matter what. You’re safe with me, okay? I love you... so much." She leaned down, pressing another kiss to his forehead as she held him close, her voice soft.

The gentle reassurance, the quiet love in her words wrapped around him like a blanket, pulling him further into her warmth. His eyelids grew heavier, the tiredness finally catching up with him as he let himself surrender to the comfort of her arms, a quiet whine escaping his throat.

"I know, honey. Sleep." Y/N whispered, a tender smile on her lips as she cradled him closer, holding him like a mother would hold her kid, her hands tracing soothing patterns along his back. "You can rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up."

As she continued to whisper soft reassurances, her fingers running gently through his hair, Chris’s breathing finally evened out, his body relaxing completely in her arms. His head rested on the curve of her neck, his arms still wrapped around her waist as he drifted off, his pain and worries slipping away in the safety of her embrace.

Y/N leaned down, pressing one last, lingering kiss to his hair before laying her cheek against his head, her arms wrapped securely around his body as she watched over him.

"I love you, sweet boy."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A couple of hours had passed, the sunsetting casting a soft, warm light over Chris’s room, where he and Y/N lay wrapped together on the bed. Chris’s face was nestled against her shoulder, his breathing steady and calm now, his chest rising and falling in sync with hers.

Outside the room, Matt and Nick exchanged a glance. They’d been standing in the hallway for nearly five minutes, trying to muster the courage to knock. Their earlier argument with Chris had weighed heavily on both of them, guilt twisting in their stomachs as they replayed every hurtful word that had left their mouths.

Finally, Matt raised his fist and knocked softly on Chris’s door, the faint sound echoing in the silence. When there was no answer, he hesitated, glancing at Nick before slowly pushing the door open.

They both froze at the sight before them. Chris and Y/N were curled up together on the bed, Chris’s face still damp from tears as he lay against her, completely relaxed in her arms. Y/N had one arm around his shoulders, her fingers resting in his hair, while her other hand was hiding inside his shirt, holding his back, cradling him protectively. They looked peaceful.

Matt’s heart clenched at the sight, guilt intensifying as he took in Chris’s tear-streaked face. He glanced over at Nick, who was staring down at his feet, clearly feeling the same crushing remorse.

"Let's go. We can come back later." Matt muttered, pulling Nick towards himself before starting to back out of the room, thinking it might be best to give Chris a bit more time.

But just as they were about to close the door, Chris stirred, shifting slightly in Y/N’s arms. He nuzzled his head on her shoulder, his face just inches from the gentle slope of her neck where he could still catch the faint, familiar scent of her perfume mingling with the natural warmth of her skin.

He moved slightly, careful not to wake her, though his movement caused her to pull him in closer, her fingers instinctively brushing over his back. The feeling of her hand tracing small, soothing circles over his shoulder as if it was a muscle memory grounded him further, coaxing a soft sigh from him as he nuzzled deeper into her embrace, pressing a gentle, barely-there kiss to her neck.

When his sleepy eyes finally traveled around the room while gently stretching his legs between hers, he finally caught Matt and Nick's figures standing in the doorway.

His face fell the instant he realized they were there, his peaceful expression replaced by a guarded, distant look. Carefully, he eased himself up, making sure not to wake Y/N as he pulled himself away from her arms.

"Came for round two?" He looked at Matt and Nick, his sleepy voice laced with bitterness as he asked.

Nick swallowed, words catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right thing to say. What an irony. He opened his mouth but only managed to mumble, stumbling over his words as he tried to get them out.

Finally, Nick took a small step closer, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Chris, I... we came to say... We just..." His pearly teeth caged his bottom lip momentarily, taking a deep breath. "We love that you’re different."

Chris stared at him, incredulous, eyebrows raised as he scoffed softly.

"Different? That’s what you’re leading with?" His eyes narrowed, hurt simmering just beneath the surface. "So now I’m the ‘different’ one? Funny, ‘cause that didn’t seem to be a good thing a few hours ago."

Nick faltered, his face flushing as he realized his words weren’t coming out the way he intended. He tried again, tripping over his explanation.

"No, no, I... I didn’t mean it like that. I just-"

Chris took a deep, shaky breath, his gaze lowered as he avoided Nick and Matt's eyes, interrupting Nick.

"Look, I want to apologize, alright?" He started, his voice barely more than a murmur, thick with emotion. "I know it was all my fault and that I’m a lot to handle. I get it. I can be too loud, too... everything, really. And I know I’m not like you guys. I’ve tried so hard to be, but it’s just... not me." His words hung heavy in the room, his fingers twisting anxiously in his lap. "I feel like sometimes I just ruin things because I don’t know how to turn it off. You two seem to have this balance, you know when to joke and when to be serious, and I’m over here just... always pushing things too far."

He exhaled deeply, finally lifting his eyes to meet his brothers', the weight of insecurity and years of self-doubt written all over his face.

"I’m sorry if it feels like you have to put up with me. I’ve tried to be more like you, but it’s never enough. And sometimes... it just feels like who I am isn’t what anyone wants." His voice cracked at the last words, his vulnerability laid bare, and he quickly looked away, bracing himself for whatever they would say.

Nick and Matt shared a look, each seeing the guilt mirrored in the other’s eyes as Chris’s words sank in, cutting through them like a blade.

Matt felt his chest tighten, a pang of regret settling heavily in his stomach, making it hard to breathe. How could he have let Chris - his little brother, the boy who was always loving him no matter what - believe, even for a second, that he wasn’t wanted exactly as he was?

His legs moved on instinct, carrying him back into the room before he even registered it, straight to Chris, who looked so small and hurt, slumped at the edge of the bed. Kneeling down, Matt reached out, placing a steadying hand on Chris’s knee, his fingers gently pressing into his brother’s skin as if trying to ground him.

"Chris, you’re our little brother. I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re too much for us." He swallowed, his voice wavering as he continued, willing Chris to see and feel every word. "I love you, man. We love you for who you are. You don’t need to change a thing. It’s your energy, your spark that makes everything better. You have this way of bringing life into everything, and that’s something I wouldn’t change for anything." He looked into Chris’s eyes, his own gaze filled with a raw honesty. "We need you to be you, Chris. No one else."

Nick’s heart clenched as he watched, his own guilt building with every second. Gaining control over the hurt and regret flooding him, he crossed the room in long strides, dropping down beside Matt. He looked up at Chris, his throat tight with emotion, the sight of his little brother so closed-off, so wounded, cutting deep. He was supposed to protect him, not hurt him.

"Yeah... you being another person? That’s not what we want at all. We’ve never wanted you to be anyone else. You’re perfect the way you are, Chris." Nick’s voice shook, filled with a determination to make Chris understand the truth, to undo every careless word he and Matt had thrown his way earlier. "I'm so, so sorry that we said all of those things and made you think so bad about yourself."

Chris’s defenses wavered, his resolve crumbling as he glanced between his brothers. Their sincerity seeped through, but doubt still clouded his gaze. He let out a heavy sigh, loosening his grip on his hoodie just a bit.

"You promise?" His voice was barely a whisper, fragile and laced with uncertainty, his fingers twisting anxiously into the fabric of his sleeve.

Without hesitation, Nick reached forward, taking Chris’s hands in his own, intertwining their fingers and squeezing firmly.

"We promise. We love how wild you are, how you’re always the one bringing the energy. You’re louder, sure, but that’s not something bad, it's exactly what makes you, you. You’re the happiest out of the three of us, Chris, and we wouldn’t change that for anything." He gave Chris’s hand another reassuring squeeze, feeling the smallest hint of relief when he saw the younger brother begin to relax, if only slightly.

Matt nodded, adding gently.

"And hey, I don’t think we need to be professional or act in a type of way for our videos to be good. The viewers love us for who we are... the mix of chaos and calm. That’s what makes us, us. It’s why they stick around."

Chris took a shaky breath, letting their words settle over him, feeling the weight of them begin to ease some of the pain. Slowly, he nodded, his fingers curling back around Nick’s reassuring grip.

"Okay."

Matt leaned forward, placing a hand on Chris’s shoulder.

"We’ll do better, alright? We’re brothers. We’re gonna mess up, but that doesn’t mean we won’t have each other’s backs. Always."

Chris exhaled deeply, finally letting the tension melt away as he leaned into their touch, the comfort of his brothers grounding him in a way only they could. Straightening himself, he managed a small, tired smile, his heart feeling a bit lighter.

"Yeah... always."

"Well, I’m really glad you guys are okay again." Y/N’s soft voice broke the silence, bringing all three heads up in surprise.

She moved with a quiet strength as she sat up and brushed her hand tenderly through Chris’s hair, watching his face light up as he realized she’d been awake all along.

"But just so we’re clear... if either of you hurt my baby like that again, you’re going to have to answer to me." She turned her gaze to Nick and Matt, a playful but fierce glint in her eyes.

"Y/N..." Chris dragged the last letter of her name in a whining tone, feeling flustered with how she called him 'her baby' in front of his brothers - even though they were more than accustomed with it.

Nick’s eyes widened jokingly with her threat, a chuckle escaping him. He lifted his hands in mock surrender, glancing at Matt as if to say, 'Well, we better watch out'. Matt nodded, eyes a bit sheepish, scratching the back of his neck.

"Alright, alright, no more ganging up on Chris. You have our word, Y/N."

Content with their promises, Y/N turned her attention back to Chris, opening her arms and pulling him into her embrace once more. He let out a soft sigh, sinking into her warmth, his head nestled against her shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him protectively, fingers tracing soothing circles along his back as she whispered.

"I told you they didn't mean it." He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him, the last bits of hurt melting away.

Nick and Matt watched the two of them, a fondness softening their expressions.

"You know." She murmured, pulling Chris's head away from her chest and looking at him with a mischievous grin. "You’re pretty lucky to have all of us wrapped around your finger."

Chris laughed, a real laugh this time, the sound full of relief and love.

"Yeah, I know. I just... I guess I forget sometimes."

"Well." Nick started, squeezing Chris’s shoulder with a grin. "We’re not going anywhere. So next time, just remind us if we’re being idiots, alright?"

Chris nodded, glancing gratefully at each of them, feeling more grounded and cherished than he had in a long time.

[iid-smile]

handsy , itadori yuji

x gn!reader ! cuddling in the cold, itadori touches your buttocks, he calls you hot, that's it really...

author's note: um i had this idea in my head but i didnt know who to write for also kinda rushed because i cba

"baby..." itadori's voice is severely muffled from his lips being pressed against your neck. "it's cold."

you're both facing each other in bed, his arms securely wrapped around your waist and yours just resting on his chest. though it's september, it's not usual for the temperature to drop in such a sudden way.

it's a weird contrast, the way it's so cold outside while it's so warm under the blanket. it makes you want to shrink further into it, but your boyfriend's presence just makes you a tad more reluctant to even move at all.

with only a small hum coming from you, your fingers fiddle with his hoodie strings. it only takes a short time for him to get sulky when you don't respond with words, so you mumble back. "i know, that's why we're cuddling."

he wiggles his legs a bit, which are already tangled with yours. you were half bracing yourself for him to be cold to the touch, but he's just warm. he's always so warm.. how? "it's colddd..." he complains again.

his arms around you tighten a bit, making it slightly harder to breathe, but you know that he just does it subconsciously. "i want hot chocolate.." he murmurs.

by chance, you manage to pick up on his words, your arms moving to wrap around his neck. "you already had some, yuji." shifting closer, you rest your head close to his. not to close that your cheeks are touching, not too far that you can see each other.

itadori remains silent, a small huff coming from him, like he knows better than to argue with you. he's so clingy. and a baby, sometimes. he's acting like you didn't feed him the most filling dinner ever. his favourite too! and hot chocolate on top of that? he should know that's enough. but that pouting expression gets to your weak heart, so you shift around a bit.

you could hear him softly groan, likely from the way your legs move to intertwine with his more, and the way your body heat is now pushed directly up against his. with ease, he nuzzles his face further into your shoulder, hiding it completely. "mhm..." he hums, and you can feel the vibrations of it against your skin.

your fingers curl around his messy locks, and you admire the seemingly natural pink colour as best you can with the minimal light. "mhm what?" you inquire, confused since you didn't ask him a question.

"nevermind the hot chocolate..." his voice is barely comprehensible. "i got something hot right here."

"...you need to specify."

"i mean it both ways. you're hot, and you're hot."

you can only sigh, rolling your eyes. if you didn't find his stupid comments so adorable, and charming, you would've thrown a pillow at him. but unfortunately since you're cuddling, you just allow the cheesy comments to slip by. like usual.

"i hate you." you mutter.

he only responds with a chuckle. "no, you love me."

"i do..." you sigh again. his arms around you loosen up slightly, and one of his hands starts roaming a little.

it's quiet for a while, after itadori's giddy chuckles of course. despite how dark it is, you struggle to keep your eyes closed, feeling your eyelids shake whenever you try, as if you're tense. the only view you really have is his hair shoved in your face, but either way, you don't mind.

being the handsy guy he is, there's not a single spot where he hasn't touched you. shoulder, back, hips, waist, thighs, everywhere. a little thought in your head was telling you they were destined to end up elsewhere, and you're surprised it hasn't happened yet.

or maybe you spoke too soon.

you can feel both of his hands move down to your behind, holding them there like he would if he was carrying you. in feigned annoyance, your lips purse a bit, not that he'd be able to see it anyway. "that's my butt."

itadori giggles, almost sounding snarky in nature. "mhm. your butt." he gives it a light squeeze in emphasis, before starting to rub it with his thumbs. the action is so simple, yet to you it feels so... intimate, loving. in a way that sends a little heat to your cheeks with a red hue that would definitely be visible.

but of course, you let it slide.

there's a few moments of silence that pass, and you're left almost thinking he fell asleep. but his gentle words soon break it, and his one of his hands finds yours, gripping lightly. "i love you... a lot..." he mumbles again, but the words are a lot more clearer this time, and a lot more sincere. a common practice of his that he does right before he drifts off to sleep.

"i love you too. a lot." you whisper back, shuffling as close as you can get to him.

[deusfoundry]

popstar!reader has actor!sylus completely wrapped around her pretty little finger.

so when you ask him to co-star in the music video of your album's single, slinking up to his bed one night dressed in one of his hoodies that makes you look like you're drowning in the thick fabric with those wide eyes and charming smile that turns him to putty in your hands, he happily complies. without so much as a question of what exactly he has to do, sylus nods and lets you thank him with a kiss.

you want him to act? he can do that. it's a craft that he lives and breathes, so it should be easy enough, right?

he arrives on set with you in tow, but you're quickly pulled into different dressing rooms by the stylists. he's handed a prisoner's uniform, slipping the costume on before sitting down and letting one of the make-up artists do their work, painting bruises on his face to make him look as scuffed as possible.

you've briefed him on the way here about his role. he's supposed to play a criminal, the gun-donning, bank-robbing, getting-into-fights-with-shady-men kind who's constantly in and out of prison. and you're his less than willing accomplice who begs him to stop fucking up.

with the few minutes he has before you two are called to start filming, he seeks you out in your dressing room. he knocks on the door, twisting the knob as he hears your sweet voice say "come in." inside, he finds that there's no one else in the room but you. you, and your blue, velvet mini dress that ends right around the middle of your thigh. there's a small sliver of skin that seems to tease him, while the rest of your legs are covered in black stockings.

sitting cross-legged on your chair, you greet him with nothing more than a smile and quiet "hey."

"well what do we have here?" sylus stalks towards you, footsteps slow and steady. "aren't you a pretty kitten?"

he plants both of his hands on either side of your chair, trapping you in place like a predator hunting his prey. his eyes travel down your body. he soaks it all in, one of his hands moving to caress your waist. there's a mischievous glint that flashes through your eyes when he takes your chin in his hand, urging you to look at him. the ghost of a smirk rests on your lips.

you're hiding something, might even be planning his demise as you're sitting pretty beneath him, but he doesn't care. not enough to stop himself from kissing you, at least.

he captures your lips in his, pulling you impossibly closer to him to deepen the kiss. you gasp when he gently yanks you up off your chair, turning you around and lifting you up so that you're sitting on the vanity of your dressing room. he wraps a strong arm around your waist. sylus' lips remain unrelenting as his hand begins to you fiddle with the lace of your stockings, fingers travelling up and slipping underneath the fabric of your dress.

sylus toys with your inner thigh for a while, squeezing and pinching at the flesh. when you whine a complaint against his lips, he does nothing to fight his low laugh.

he's about to grab the edges of your dress and pull the fabric up to your waist when-

"y/n? the director's looking for you. we're about to start filming."

you pry yourself away from his lips. sylus nearly whines. "hold on a sec! i'll meet you there."

in an instant, your whole demeanor shifts. gone was the blissful look on your face as you fix your hair. sylus is frozen, stunned. and as if he wasn't weirded out enough by how you're acting as if you didn't just want him to take you then and there, you give him a slight nudge on the shoulder, a silent plea for him to move aside.

when he doesn't respond- doesn't make a move to let you hop off the desk, you look at him with curiosity. it's accompanied by a hint of innocence as you tilt your head to the side.

"sylus? honey, we have to go."

except, sylus knows you're far from innocent in this scenario.

you minx.

you had this planned all along, letting him inside your dressing room, getting him all riled up, only to leave him high and dry.

and you thought you could get away with it.

how adorable.

sylus leans forward to speak directly to your ear, hot air fanning across sensitive skin. "don't think i'm done with you, sweetie. you should know what happens when pretty girls like you misbehave."

your breath gets caught in your throat as he gives your thigh one last squeeze before assisting you off the desk.

but you've never been one to back down after all. two can play this game, and you still have quite a few tricks up your sleeve.

[undying-love]

Paul's grief over time: A Compilation

“During the session [in 1981] Paul fell into a lugubrious mood. He said, ‘I’ve just realized that John is gone. John’s gone. He’s dead and he is not coming back.’ And he looked completely dismayed, like shocked at something that had just hit him. ‘Well, it’s been a few weeks now.’ He said, ‘I know, Eric, but I’ve just realized." (Eric Stewart)

“It’s still weird even to say, ‘before he died’. I still can’t come to terms with that. I still don’t believe it. It’s like, you know, those dreams you have, where he’s alive; then you wake up and… 'Oh’.” (Paul, 1986)

"Occasionally, it wells up. Y'know, and I'm at home on the weekend suddenly and I start thinking about him or talking to the kids about him and I can't handle it." (Paul, 1987)

"Is there a record you like to put on just to hear John’s voice?" I ask Paul the next day. Paul looks startled. He fumbles. “Oh, uh. There’s so much of it. I hear it on the car radio when I’m driving.” No, that’s not what I mean", I persist. "Isn’t there a time when you just wish you could talk to John, when you’d like to hear his voice again?" For some reason, he instead responds to the original question.“Oh sure,” he says and looks a little taken aback. ‘Beautiful Boy". (1990)

"Also not obvious is that McCartney [for the Liverpool Oratorio] has penned a gorgeous black-spiritual-like piece for mezzo-soprano that intones the last words spoken to John Lennon as he lay dying of gunshot wounds in the back of a New York police car -- "Do you know who you are?" McCartney gets a bit choked up at one point when he reveals, "Not a day goes by when I don't think of John.” (1991)

"Delicious boy, delicious broth of a boy. He was a lovely guy, you know. And it gets sadder and sadder to be saying “was”. Nearer to when he died I couldn’t believe I was saying “was”, but now I do believe I’m saying “was”. I’ve resisted it. I’ve tried to pretend he didn’t get killed." (Paul, 1995)

"Paul talked about John a a lot, but the strange thing was that it was in the present tense, “John says this" or "John thinks that. Very weird." (Peter Cox, 2006)

“John Lennon was shot dead in 1980. That totally knocked dad for six. I haven’t really spoken to him a lot about it because it is such a touchy subject." (James McCartney, 2013)

"It's very difficult for me and I, occasionally, will have thoughts and sort of say: "I don't know why I don't just break down crying every day? […] You know, I don't know how I would have dealt with it because I don't think I've dealt with it very well. In a way… I wouldn't be surprised if a psychiatrist would sort of find out that I'm slightly in denial, because it's too much." (Paul, 2020)

"Like any bereavement, the only way out is to remember how good it was with John. Because I can't get over the senseless act. I can't think about it. I'm sure it's some form of denial. But denial is the only way that I can deal with it." (Paul, 2020)

"When I talked to Paul about John and when he missed John most, he couldn't answer me for a long time and his eyes teared up. And I asked him where he thinks about John and when John comes into his mind and he just … he lost it, he completely lost it." (Bob Spitz, 2021)

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

The following two are from the gossip website Datalounge, so they may or may not be true. Still interesting though:

"The one time I was ever actually in a room with Paul, zillion people between me and him (and no way I'm gonna bother him, all of us who travel in celeb circles have people we're fans of and all of us inexplicably try to hide it to seem "cooler"), he started talking loudly about himself and John, and how hard it was not to have him there. I remember him saying something along the lines of not a day passing that John's not still in it with him, but it's not like he can pick up a phone and say, "Hey, just needed to hear your voice today," and even when he got craggy responses, he still missed them. He misses it all, and it's bothering to him that he misses him more as time goes on -- it doesn't heal, he just learns new ways to bandage the wound."

“Since everyone is anonymous here, I guess I can give a bit of info I got from a female friend of mine who at one time worked as one of Paul’s assistants. [...] She does not know for certain if John and Paul were involved but she suspects it since to this day whenever John’s name is brought up he acts in her words ‘like a widow’ and he also addresses John in present tense. He would say things like, ‘John thinks that the music should be like this,’ and during his bitter divorce from Heather he was saying, ‘John says that this is getting nasty.’ Kind of creepy." (this one actually seems very intriguing because it sounds very similar to what Peter Cox said, about Paul often talking about John in the present tense, saying "John says.." or "John thinks...")

[darlingdreadwrites]

Omfg omfg omfg omfg ggogggiffuuk. That toby x final girl reader was too good I feel like I'm floating....could you do a Jeff x final girl reader?

i hope you enjoy this! sorry if it’s too much of a long read…

pairing: Jeff the Killer x Final Girl F!Reader

summary: you had anticipated a nice road trip with your boyfriend and some friends. when you're forced to stay at a motel for the night, you wished you had stayed home.

contains: Jeff the Killer getting a little crushy wushy on you (sorry i couldn't help it LOL), good ol' slasher shenanigans, Jeff unknowingly getting revenge for you

warnings: violence, gore, NSFW (ESPECIALLY UNDER THE RED DIVIDER), masturbation, insinuation of SA (nothing explicit, but can be read that way), a knife, character deaths, horror/slasher cliches

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

a.n: y'all i did not expect the attention i would get from the toby fics. I LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU SO MUCH!! i know most of you followed for toby, but i got a request for jeff, so here you go!

This road trip was supposed to be fun. Your boyfriend—Tony—had promised you that. He promised that you’d have a great time. He promised that he would give you all his undivided attention. He promised he’d reign in his creepy friend’s weird comments. He’d promised he wouldn’t let his anger get to him.

“Jesus, old man. Just start the pumps back—“

But said old man interrupts him. They’d been going at this for a good few minutes now. “I cannot do that. You will have to come tomorrow. There’s a nice, luxury motel my buddy runs just up the road.”

“Listen,” Tony lets out a deep breath to try and control himself before he jumps over the counter to strangle the poor man. “We’re only trying to get out of this town, man. It is just one car.”

“If I start the oil back up, I’dun have to start it up for ev’rybody,” the man shakes his head, and I know he’s itching to keep up with the Southern Hospitality act.

You start to space out, having gotten used to Tony’s temper. You just wanted to sleep, no matter where. You spin on your heel and start walking down the candy aisle. There's a buzzing sound above you and you look up to see a flickering light. You swear you can make out the black dots of bugs that are being burnt to a crisp by the blinding lights. 

You almost scream as someone jumps next to you – seemingly out of nowhere – before you realize that it’s just your friend Stephanie. “Whachu want, girl?”

“Steph—“ You whisper-yell, and the girl only giggles. You shove her lightly and turn your attention back on the rows of different sugary confections. She looks up to see Tony still arguing with the gas station attendant. 

 “How long is he gonna keep doing that?” She asks you. You shrug in response. After a few silent moments, she walks around you. “Gonna calm him down.” 

“Mhm,” you hum and pick up a bag that is interesting to you. You squeeze it for no other reason than to hear the familiar crinkle of the plastic. From the corner of your eye, you can make out a figure walking over to you. You bristle already as Don’s cologne already starts to make your eyes sting. 

“You gonna get that?” He asks you and you want to immediately punch the cocky grin off his face. 

“No, just looking,” you answer simply. You place the candy bag back in its spot and cross your arms. 

“You’re already so hostile,” he chuckles, poking your side. You take a step to the side, putting more space between you. “Dude, come on. I’m just playing.” 

Don was never “just playing.” You almost learned that the hard way. 

“I think we're almost leaving,” mumbling, you turn to leave. He scoffs and stays in his spot as you walk toward Tony. Stephanie plays idly with her hair — not helping to calm Tony in the slightest. 

You were about to respond when a man nearly slams you to the ground. You catch yourself on your boyfriend’s back, who only noticed the interaction when you bumped into him. 

 “Watch it, asshole—” he shouts. 

You snap your head in the direction of the door, but the man was already gone. The bell hanging from the door almost flew off — you only caught a glimpse of white.

“You know what? Fine.” Tony glares at the worker. “Let’s just go to this shitty-ass motel and sleep with bed bugs, guys. Thanks for nothing, motherfucker.”

Stephanie and Don snicker, and your face burns from embarrassment.

“Luxury motel” my ass, you thought. This place was the dingiest shit hole you’d ever seen. It was a classic two-story nightmare that you would see in a horror movie. There was only one other car but yours, and you could see the grime on the walls from the car. The rust that clung to the metal railings on the upper level streaked down like old bloodstains. Half of the lights on the neon sign that perched from the roof were dead — making it read as “Mo.” But there was nothing your group could do tonight. There was only enough gas to drive back to the gas station tomorrow.

After securing the rooms — and Tony weirdly insisting that you and him have a room upstairs while your friends were downstairs — you all decided to head to the pool. That was the most normal your group had ever been in a while. You played around with them as they splashed water on each other, and Tony even got a little clingy. You missed that feeling of his body enveloping yours in his warmth – and not just for sex.

“I am so tired,” Stephanie exclaims as she climbs out of the pool. You follow behind her and grab your towel. Stephanie pauses and turns to look at you. “Hey, have you guys seen my key?”

“Didn’t you bring it?” You tilt your head to the side, wrapping your towel around you.

“I thought I did. Where the fuck—did one of you guys take it?” She looks over your shoulder to look at the two men. They only shook their heads. “Ugh. Guess I have to talk to that weirdo at the front desk. What was this name again? Miles? Mickey?”

“Micheal,” you correct her, suppressing a smile.

“Oh, yeah,” she giggled. “Micheal Myers.”

As you walk back upstairs to your room, you can’t help but walk a little closer to Tony. You felt shiver spreading like ice under your skin. An invisible force made you feel heavier, as if someone’s eyes were pressing into your back. The prickling sensation of the hairs on your body raising caused you to turn your head to look behind your shoulder.

“Scared?” The sound of your boyfriend’s voice causes you to look straight ahead. Both of you had stopped just in front of the stairs – you hadn’t realized.

“This place is so creepy,” is all you say.

The motel room was just as shitty as the outside, but at least it was warm. The lights were all a disgusting yellow color against the fake wood paneling. There was a small TV sitting on an aged drawer, a desk with a table, and a singular bed that you could already smell the dust from. You remind yourself to urge Tony not to use the thick blanket when you sleep.

You had just received a text from Stephanie saying she was going to sleep when Tony stepped out of the bathroom. You sent a quick message back to your friend before putting the phone down on the bed. You smiled up at Tony as he walked over to your side. He cupped your chin – sending a wave of heat through your whole body – before he lets it fall back to his side.

“I’m going to Don’s room downstairs,” he informs you and your face falls.

“Why?” You ask before you can stop yourself.

“He brought his PS4,” he says it like it’s obvious.

Of course.

“’Kay, well,” you swallow your disappointment. “Take the key. I’m not waking up to let you back in.”

“My own girl would let me sleep outside?” He looks at you with a lopsided grin, tilting his head. You can’t help but smile back. He hadn’t called you that in a while.

“I could. Now go.”

“Bye, baby,” he chuckles and turns to leave.

Your eyes stay trained on the back of his head until it’s blocked by the closing of a door. You bite at the inside of your cheek. You close your eyes, reinviting the tiredness you had felt earlier. Lifting the blanket, you slide down beneath it, settling into a lying position. An odd, old smell wafts from the sheets, but the warmth provides a comfort that you need.

You’re woken up from your slumber by the sound of a blaring car alarm. The walls do nothing to muffle the sound of the piercing, repetitive wail. Surely any member of your group could do it, and you wouldn’t need to get up. After another minute, you toss the blankets off you and swing your legs over the edge of the mattress. Sliding your shoes on, you stand up.

The keys jingle as you pick them up and stomp over to the door. You stick half of your body out of the door and point at the keys in the general direction of the car. That didn’t work. You groan and walk outside to get closer to the railing – the door closes behind you. Oh shit. But it was too late when you turned around. Pressing down on the right key fob, the car finally shuts up. You try the door anyway. No luck. The only one with the room key is Tony.

You walk down the stairs of the motel. In the distance, you could see Don still at the pool. Funny, you thought. Wasn’t he supposed to be playing with Tony? Maybe he got bored of watching your boyfriend. Walking over to Don’s room, a noise captures your attention. It’s not talking, more like moaning and giggling – from Stephanie’s room. You realized that you could see a crack of light coming from the door – it hadn’t been fully closed. You snicker, thinking of how you’d tease her for being desperate enough to get with Don.

Wait, but… you just saw Don. Still at the pool. And there had been no sign of Tony.

Slowly, and with an anxious flutter in your chest, you step in front of the door. The door stays miraculously silent as you gently push it open. You swear that your heart stops beating. There, on Stephanie’s bed, the pair are writhing against each other. Tony mouths at the side of her throat, while your friend’s arms are snaking under his shirt. You slammed the door as your heart threatens to jump out of your throat. You walk away, dazed – ignoring the loud sounds that emit from the closed room.

The air in the room was heavy with the scent of copper and the drone of the motel lights above. Jeff is leaning over the bodies of Stephanie and Tony, his blade dripping red as he finishes the final carving of a grotesque grin on Tony’s face. He’s precise with his movements – like an artist putting the final strokes to their masterpiece. Jeff had to reposition the bitch back on top of the girl he was swapping spit with. God, he could still see the look of horror on their faces. Her skin was pale and dull, with a similar smile etched onto her features.

He straightens up and takes a step back, assessing his work, and his head tilted. He’d really outdone himself this time, he thought. Jeff smirks, reveling in his sick joke. He lazily wipes his blade on Tony’s sleeve – not that it made a difference. These two were coated in blood he had fun playing with.

The shrill scream slices through his moment of silence – it had come from outside. He freezes before his head snaps toward the door. Who was that? His pulse accelerates, not from fear, but from curiosity. He walks to the door, another wide grin on his face. He cracks it open enough to peek his head through, the sound drowned out by the lingering echoes of the scream.

Jeff can see you on the second floor, standing frozen in place and trembling. His eyes travel down to the crumpled body on the floor – it was the other guy. Don, or whatever. His body lays in an unnatural position, and he can see the man’s lifeless face. His jaw was out of place, jutting out like an extreme underbite. Jeff would’ve cackled if he wasn’t meant to be quiet. That’s what’s so boring about targeting a group of people. He had to be quiet until everyone was dead. Which they all were, eventually.

But, then, his eyes flicker to you again. You weren’t crying like he thought you would be. You were just… there – you didn’t even look down to make sure your buddy was okay. Just one peek was enough for you – got you hollering like a pig – but you weren’t crying or running for the cops. He leans out further as you mechanically walk over to the stairs. The split second of fear he had seen on your face was all but gone. Your shock had made you numb, and you would just walk around it like it was nothing. Like your friend’s mangled body was just a bug.

“Oh, you’re fucked up,” Jeff whispered, a smirk on his face.

That excited him. He would be the one to get you crying in terror soon.

Nothing seemed real anymore. You were sure this was some kind of nightmare. That’s why you didn’t care. You just walked over to the ice machine – ignoring Don’s body on the floor – and grabbed a handful of ice. You don’t waste another second and shove as many ice cubes in your mouth as you could. Some had slipped out and crackled against the concrete floor. The pieces that skittered away had flown at your feet. But you didn’t feel it. You didn’t feel anything.

As you crunch on the ice, you slide some of the remaining pieces over your skin. The stinging cold that you would usually feel was replaced by a slight buzzing under your skin. You’re not sure whether you’re glad you can’t feel anything or not. You just wanted to sleep now.

Oh, right. The room key.

Letting the remaining ice cubes fall to the floor, you spun to head in the direction of the lobby. You didn’t want to deal with seeing your boyfriend’s tongue in your best friend’s mouth. You decided that you’d deal with them tomorrow. You didn’t care anymore. And they didn’t care either, it seemed. That’s why they didn’t come out running after you, right? They didn’t care enough to even pretend like they felt guilty. Tony wasn’t groveling at your feet, and Stephanie wasn’t crying her eyes out – begging you to still be her best friend. They had to know it was you that came into the room and slammed the door.

The lights overhead were a dull, sterile white compared to the yellow of the rooms – but it still smelled like piss. You could hear some sports game being played on a tiny, clunky box TV. But there was no sign of the owner. You turned your head from side to side but saw no sign of the fat old man. When you look back at the front desk, you notice the small rack of candy. Fuck it, you shrug as you reached a hand out and grab one. The numb buzz was starting to die down, but there was still no sense of real fear. Just the same tiredness you felt all day.

Guess you’d have to speed up the reunion early, huh?

The door to the room was slightly ajar once again. You had closed it, you remembered that. Maybe they had gone looking for you. Or at least when you had screamed. You nudged the door open with your foot.

Dropping the bag of candy on the floor, you felt bile rising in your throat. Your heart stopped for what seemed like the third time tonight. You honestly wished it would stop forever.

The putrid stench of the blood – let alone the sight of it – attacks your senses and made your head spin. The bodies were positioned as if they were frozen in a perverse display of intimacy. Tony’s face was right up on Stephanie’s, her cheek was being pulled on by Tony’s teeth to make it look like he was eating her face. Your stomach churned and eyes brimmed with hot tears. Doubling over, you retched onto the already stained carpet in the room.

You staggered backward, your legs threatening to give out as they shook. But you managed to take quicks steps back in the direction of the lobby. Your blood seemed to rush to your head, and you could’ve mistaken the pumping for the sound of drums. You wanted to scream and cry and throw up all at once. You wanted out.

Rounding the corner, the motel owner stepped out of a nearby room just a few feet in front of you. You could see the sweat on his shirt as he fiddled with the key ring – he was locking a door. He raised a hand to wipe some sweat from his brow, oblivious to your approach.

Your heart pounded as you stopped dead in your tracks. His actions were so mundane compared to the horror you had just witnessed. It made your stomach do flips. This was just another night for him. Another night of fixing the rooms and watching football on his TV.

“Sir-sir,” you tried to speak, but it came out in a shaky rasp.

Micheal turned to you, his brows raising in surprise. You had startled him. He gave you a once-over before smiling. “Is there anything I can do for you, miss?”

“They’re…” Your lips trembled as you tried to get the words to come out of your mouth instead of puke. You knew you were inaudible, but you didn’t have the strength to speak properly. “They’re… all… They’re dead.”

“I’m sorry, hon,” he leaned forward and squinted. “What was that? I didn’t quite catch—”

The man’s eyes widened and a wet, gargle emitted from his mouth as it hung open. Blood poured from the side of his neck, and a hand shot out to grab his shoulder and stabilize him. There was a squelching sound as the knife was dragged just above the owner’s shoulder. He crumples forward, sending a shower of blood your way, and some of it fills your mouth before you close it tight. Your eyes follow the sight of the keys that land with a soft jingle at your feet.

You stare at the man responsible for only a second. His scarred, unnaturally pale face is framed by jet-black hair that falls wildly across his face. It casts shadows onto his skin, especially his sunken-in, hollow eyes. They’re wide as they stare at you – cold and vacant. His most defining and spine-chilling feature is the wide, carved out smile on his face. It looked like it had scabbed over months ago, but it was still glaringly present. If this man was human, he didn’t look it.

But you act faster than you or he anticipated. You dive for the keys, picking them off the ground, when, suddenly, you feel a hand grab your wrist. He pulls you back up, bringing you closer to his body.

Just when you thought it was all over, you realize that the man is just staring at you. You feel his warm breath hit your face, and you can’t tear your eyes away from him. You’re confused, and it seems that so is he. Using this to your advantage, you smash the ring of keys into the side of his head.

As he howls out in pain, you break free and take a few steps back. You turn and bolt in the direction of a beat-up truck – the only other vehicle in the parking lot. Your hands shook and you clutched at the keys held tightly in your palm. It felt like you could suffocate with the heavy, tense air that surrounded you.

You cursed under your breath as you tried – and failed – to fit the key into the car door. The sound of the jingling only heightened your sense of panic. The key finally slipped into the lock, and you let out a quiet whimper. You yanked the car open, not daring to turn around.

Jeff simply watched you with a wide grin on his face. He was amused by your desperation – elated by the thrill of hunting you down. When the car clicked open, something in him clicked. His smile faltered as the realization that you were almost getting away hit him hard. With quick movements, he sprinted toward you and rounded the car to the driver’s seat.

You practically flew into the driver’s seat and slammed the door just as Jeff’s knife made contact with the window. The loud, grating sound of metal meeting glass caused you to scream. But you continued your attempt to get away. You jam the keys into the ignition, ignoring the hand slamming into the window.

“You bitch,” he snarled, banging on the glass. “I’m gonna gut you like a pig when I get my fucking hands on you!”

The tires of the car screech as you threw it into gear, jerking it backwards. Jeff continued to try and slice through the window, the sharp blade leaving a jagged mark. He took a step back to avoid his foot getting run over by one of the tires. He watches as you manically speed out of the parking lot, his figure getting smaller in the rearview mirror.

Your breath was coming out in short bursts, and your heart pounded wildly. As you drive off, you get one final look at him. He just stands in the parking lot, his own chest rising and falling rapidly. He doesn’t chase your stolen car, but you can tell that his mind is thinking of how he can enact his revenge. For now, he’s proud that you’ve gotten away just this time.

Two Weeks Later

Jeff couldn’t stop thinking about you. He very rarely lets people get away on his sprees. Not that he was going to let you live, don’t be fucking stupid. He knew how to find you and what he’d do. The man was just biding his time. He wanted the time to be right. He wanted to make it special for you.

The thing was, that second guy – the one that was crushed on the floor – that wasn’t Jeff’s kill. And, as far as he knew, it wasn’t poor old Micheal’s either. You did that. Something had made you snap. And Jeff knew that feeling all too well. Just what had that useless motherfucker done to you? Must’ve been bad enough to cause a sweet little thing like you to break.

He… sympathized with you. In a very stupid way that he hated. But he also loved the blank look in your eyes as your brain numbed you to the act you acted on. That made him want you, oh, so badly.

He could make as many excuses as he wanted, but he wanted you. His mind replayed the whole thing like a movie. He thought about you while he trained, while he maimed, while he slept. And especially while pumping his hand along his cock. He’d stare up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open as low moans dragged out from his throat. He thought of the way your face twisted in fear, the blood that spattered on you, and oh that felt just right. That’s why he needed to see you again. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you.

He hoped you were prepared.

[kikohao]

ᅠᅠᅠᅠ ⠀⠀⠀⋆˙. operation: one bed

★ ㅤㅤpairing ; agent!jeonghan x agent!reader ★ ㅤㅤsummary ; you and jeonghan were assigned a case together, you both played the roles of an engaged couple. why is it that you had to share a bed to sell the act? ★ ㅤㅤthemes ; spy au, one bed trope. fluff, mentions of seungcheol, soonyoung, and joshua ★ ㅤㅤwarnings ; cursing, kissing, slight jealousy, use of nicknames ("babe") ★ ㅤㅤword count ; 2k ★ ㅤㅤtaglist ; @nonononranghaee @abodyhasbeenfound ★ ㅤㅤa/n ; one bed trope with jeonghan has been rotting my mind for almost a week omg im really happy i was able to finish it on time! i've never really wrote a "kissing" scene before so im really sorry if its weird bye 😭 requests are always open! (texts, ot13 scenarios, drabbles, fics, mtls, etc) send an ask to be added to my taglist! likes and reblogs appreciated! <3

"Agent Kim, do you hear me?" You try to maintain a formal persona, as you talk into your built-in earphones as you make your way to the grand venue.

"Loud and clear. Make sure your earpiece is switched on at all times." A tuneless voice followed.

Upon entering the hotel, you and Jeonghan were greeted by the expansive lobby that screamed elegance and sophistication.

"They must be bloody rich," Jeonghan muttered quietly, but loud enough for me to hear. He was right though, there were multiple marble chandeliers, casting a warm, golden glow upon all the guests. 

It was extraordinarily exquisite.

"Pass the details," Jeonghan spoke into his earpiece as we moved to a certain corner of the corridors, hoping to maintain a low profile throughout the whole party. 

After a few shufflings of his notes, he responded.

"Agent Yoon, you're Jacob Choi, son of the most prestigious Grand Celestial Palace. I'm pretty sure no one would go into more detail about you, but make sure they buy the act. We can't risk anything. Agent Y/N, you're Ana Wang, Jacob's fiancee, I'll get back to both of you with more details on the individuals. For now, you both are an engaged couple, seemingly having an Alliance with Mr. Lin."

"Got it."

You and Jeonghan made your way towards the reception to mark you both in now that you've got your "personal" details. By doing so, you both were accompanied by a middle-aged man, possibly someone who worked there. He wore a black suit and bow, around 5'8?

"Keep an eye on everyone you see tonight," Agent Kim spoke from the earpiece.

"Why are you so tense?" Jeonghan muttered, "I'm not." You replied swiftly with a scoff earning nothing but a soft chuckle from him that kept on making my ears ring.

Why did your stomach suddenly start to churn? You disregarded it, possibly assuming it was hunger or thirst. Your train of thought was interrupted by a man who made his way towards us. He looked old, although, his rosy cheeks and flawless demeanor said otherwise. Guess he was the well-known, Mr. Lin.

"Oh, Mr. Choi!" He exclaimed out loud for everyone to hear, grabbing Jeonghan's hand and shaking it vigorously.

You tried extremely hard to keep in the giggles that were trying to escape your mouth as you looked at Jeonghan's reaction to the sudden interaction from the man. You forcibly had to look away because you knew you'd fuck things up the second you made eye contact with him.

"It's been so long! How're you and your fiancee? Ms. Wang ain't it?" He questioned, looking towards you. Maybe it was just you and your overthinking capabilities, but you swore something was off about how he looked at you compared to how he looked at Jeonghan, but you decided to brush it off.

"We're doing quite well, thank you." Jeonghan put out, maintaining a calm composure that very well contrasted with his normal personality.

"How's your mom doing? I'm so sorry that happened to her," continued the man. You and Jeonghan shared a quick glance at each other, one that said -- "Oh we're so fucked if we mess this up."

"Mom is doing quite well, thanks for asking. She's doing much better." You replied, noticing the intense tension that followed. Seems like staying here for too long may be risky.

"Babe, why don't we get something to eat? I'm starving." You shared teasingly, looking at Jeonghan, enjoying the flushed expression that lay on his face as you managed to throw in a pout to make it seem more genuine. You both needed to instantly get away for a while to ask Agent Kim about the next plan, and this was the only resort.

Jeonghan excused himself as walked towards one of the empty tables, hand in hand. As soon as we took our seats, Jeonghan voiced through his earpiece, "What do we do next?"

"So far, we haven't found anything. And, I'm guessing neither have the two of you. I checked with Agent Kwon regarding the party details. Seems like everyone attending is encouraged to stay the night, I'm pretty sure it's just for them to make more affiliates, either that or just to show off how rich they are. Either way, I and the crew think it would be beneficial if you did so, in order to uncover more details on Mr. Lin, it would also help in selling your facade since I'm pretty sure he's catching up with suspicions of his."

"Are you sure about that?" You spoke softly into the earpiece, observing the surrounding area, "It sounds quite risky,"

"It is, indeed, but it's your call on whether you want to."

You look at Jeonghan, he seems to have similar thoughts as you do -- he doesn't seem too fond of the idea.

"What do you 'reckon?" you ask him, simultaneously taking a sip of the non-alcoholic wine they'd provided all the attendees.

"Well, it is pretty risky. But, we'd better do as per Mr. Kim and Mr. Kwon since we'd have to put up with these titles until we get the requirements. It'd help sell the act." He finally spoke.

It was unusual. It was unusual how he seemed calm and collected amidst something like this. You'd imagined him to be some kind of reckless person like the persona he usually played so you weren't quite fond of going with him.

You nodded -- he had a point. The faster Mr. Lin believed us, possibly the quicker we could get this case over with.

And, this was it.

Jeonghan hurried towards the hotel management before it was too late to get a room while you sat at your spot, gazing at everyone who attended such a social gathering.

Guess you realized you zoned out when a young man, maybe in his 20s, sat next to you and started up a conversation like good old friends.

"No way, Ana? Is that you?" He put up a question, his face in awe.

"Oh, yes, hello." you manage to spit out, giving off a small smile as you gaze at Jeonghan, his back facing towards you as he converses with the management team.

Guess I'm fucked.

"You were never the one for these kinda parties, you always mentioned that they were too crowded. Guess you grew out of your phase?" He smiled cheekily avoiding the fact that he most possibly just insulted you, or at least the role you're currently playing.

Is this gaslighting?

A phase? How is not wanting to go out and talk with people a phase? You didn't know who Ana was nor did you ever meet her, but you most certainly didn't like someone like him straight up insulting someone.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You questioned, maintaining a small smile. The last thing you wanted was your cover to get blown.

"Oh, Nothing. How's Jacob? He be treating you well?" He continued as he took a small sip from his cocktail drink.

You nodded, glancing every now and then at your so-called "companion" who's left you to talk to some guy who supposedly knows you. It made you laugh how he thinks he's all that -- you could easily spot how the guy was wearing a worn-out suit and tie, most probably already used, and how he just seemed sketchy. 

"Keep an eye on everyone you see tonight," 

He did seem quite sketchy.

You spotted Jeonghan making his way back, guess God did hear your prayers after all. As soon as the guy spotted "Jacob" making his way towards us, he excused himself and left. Possibly to get another drink.

"Guess who managed to get us a room with my good looks," he winked at you, holding the keys high up. You couldn't help but chuckle.

Cute, you thought. Instantly regretting it when Jeonghan pointed out who flushed your face looked.

"Oh shut it, Yoon. Look, now you've ruined the mood." You shot back before he got a chance to say something sly.

His smile didn't last long though. "Oh and, who was that?" He asked, most likely mentioning the guy who'd been talking with you while he went to get the keys.

"Some guy who knows Ana. No clue, but he seemed sketchy." You replied, taking the keys from him.

A few hours passed with nothing but talking with the other participants, drinking, eating, talking again, drinking, talking...

"Huge thanks to everyone who was able to attend today. I wish all those returning back home a safe ride. Everyone who's staying for the night, you may make your way towards your rooms. Have a wonderful night!" Mr. Lin spoke out after clinking his wine glass, attaining attention from everyone present in the hall.

You followed Jeonghan as you made your way toward your room, slightly gazing in awe at all the picturesque art on the walls.

As soon as we entered our rooms, we both noticed the same exact thing.

There was only one bed.

One bed.

Anyone would expect Jeonghan to take up the sofa that was present in the room. Well, guess what? You were wrong.

There was a minute of silence before Jeonghan spoke out loud. "I'm taking the bed. You can take the bed if you want, but I'm not taking the sofa if that's what you're thinking." He smirked as he took off his shoes and placed them on the shoe rack before heading towards the bed.

Well, what did you expect?

That Jeonghan would give up the bed?

No chance and not at all surprising.

"You're such a gentleman aren't you?" You placed your shoes alongside him, making your way to the bed, not ready to give it up either. "They should've sent Joshua with me," You sighed out loud for him to hear.

"Joshua?"

"Well, anyone taking a good look at us would know that we're meant to be," You reasoned, followed by a breathy scoff from Jeonghan. You cooed at his reaction, "Aw, babe, didn't know you were the jealous type," you added, teasingly. You hated to admit it but playing Ana was fun.

"Yeah, right." 

We both had got into bed by the time it was 11. You switched the lamp that was present in your dimly lit room.

4 AM.

He stared right at me, with his dusk-brown eyes. But, it wasn't a normal stare. But a stare that held desire within. You both faced towards each other, the middle barrier made of pillows long gone.

"What?" You slurred slightly, still half-asleep, heart, leaping in your chest.

It was now that you realized that you failed to realize how ethereal he looked. His tired eyes bore into yours, as his bangs lay lazily on his face.

He leaned in slightly, reducing the gap between us. 

"Your eyes are really pretty," He muttered. It always amazed you how he didn't have much of a deep voice like other men, but still seemed dominant without it.

That was a stab to the heart. Not in a bad way though. In a way that made you want to kiss him. You wanted to hold him.

Maybe it was an exaggeration, but you swore you couldn't breathe as soon as he gently placed his lips, carefully molded into a heart, onto yours, locking it in place for a swift second before pulling away.

It lasted like a second or two, but your face looked as if you'd just run a marathon.

"Yoon, are you drunk?" you finally spoke out, not believing what just happened. You thoroughly enjoyed it, but how could he kiss you just like that?

"Yoon doesn't sit right with me, 'Babe' sounds much better."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Jenni's Version)

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: You go home

You don't understand what's going on.

Well, you do but you don't know why everyone is acting so weird.

Last night, Mami came to visit. She took one look at you and burst into tears. She held you close and cried. She cried and cried and cried and you didn't know how to make her feel better. She just kept crying and holding you.

At first, it was nice. To be held by Mami, you mean, but suddenly her arms felt like shackles around your body, like bricks tried to your legs as you try to fight against the pool you've been thrown into. Everything about her was too hot and too restrictive and you could do little but go limp as she held you.

You're much too tiny to fight against Mami. She is big and strong and you are small and weak.

She released you a little while later and said goodbye.

There was something in the way she said it that seemed very final. You don't know why you called out to her but you did.

She turned, a glimmer of something in her eyes but you just gave her back the train you desperately wanted all those months ago. The one that you had hoped to get for your birthday but didn't. The one you had hoped to get for Christmas but didn't.

You gave it back to her.

"I'm sorry that I don't want to play with it, Mami," You'd told her before retreating back to Mama.

But that was last night and today is different.

Today, you got up early and got dressed and brushed your teeth until they were squeaky clean.

Tia Alba drives you and Mama to the airport. You don't really go to airports a lot.

Mami never liked it bringing you to camps with her so you didn't travel nearly as much as she did, only for very special occasions like the Champion's League final.

Tia Alba comes with you both through check in and she holds you while Mama goes through the scary scanning machine and waits for you on the other side.

It's big and scary and you don't like going through it but Mama is on the other side and she scoops you up into a hug as soon as you make it through.

Airports are big too but you're holding Mama's hand so you feel safe as she leads you through.

It's early and you're hungry and you get a small snack to hold you over.

"Private plane, huh?" Tia Alba teases as she sips a coffee.

Mama rolls her eyes. "They're just happy to have me back. We're lucky they didn't send over an escort to make sure we got home safe."

You don't know a lot, you're only little but you know you're travelling somewhere today. You know this because Mama has two documents that say you're both travelling. She's got your new passport too.

It's got your new name on it and that's how you know it's new.

It's tucked into her coat pocket nice and safe.

You're travelling with your Mama, you know that for certain.

A lot has changed though and you're not too sure what it is exactly. You have a new name and you don't know why. You like your new name though. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Putellas-Hermoso is in your passport now.

You've always thought that the Putellas part of your name looked lonely. You like that it has a friend now.

Tia Alba looks at you and smiles. "Are you happy to be going to Mexico, Bambi?"

"That's where you live!" You tell Mama and she laughs, fondly brushing your hair from your face.

"It's where you live now too."

You frown. "But ballet-"

"There's a ballet studio right down the street from our house," Mama tells you," You've got lessons on Wednesday for two hours and then nine until lunch on Saturdays."

You don't know how to respond to that, perplexed that Mama already knows your new dance schedule.

"That sounds fun," Tia Alba says," I'll have to come visit soon."

Your brows furrow. "You're not coming, Tia?"

She shakes her head. "My life is here, bambi," She says.

"So's mine," Your voice isn't even above a whisper and no one hears you. You've never thought about leaving Spain before, not permanently anyway.

Mami told you that it's because you're like her. You're a homebody. You're just like Mami.

You don't know if you want to be like Mami anymore.

The Putellas in your old passport always looked lonely. It has Hermoso now so it's not lonely anymore. But you don't think Hermoso would be lonely if it was by itself.

A fancy man in a suit comes up to Mama, whispering in her ear and she nods, picking you up on her hips easily.

She and Tia Alba wheel the suitcases after him.

You wander through the back halls of the airport until you're on the tarmac where a plane is waiting.

Tia Alba called it a private plane. You know Mami's been on those lots but you haven't been once. When you've travelled, it's been with Tia Alba or Abuela in one of the normal people's planes.

This is new and a little strange but not unwelcome, you think.

There are stairs leading up to it and Tia Alba stops at the bottom of them. She kneels in front of you and cups your face.

"I love you, bambi," She says to you, looking deep into your eyes," And I will come visit you very soon." She gives you a big hug that you somehow feel in your very soul.

"I love you too, Tia Alba," You say and Mama takes your hand to lead you inside.

You don't remember much of the flight.

You know a few things though.

It is long, very long. You sleep a lot and eat when Mama says that you should. She holds you as you sleep. You are not coming back to Spain for a long while.

You don't know that last one for sure but you still think it's true.

Deep down, you know it is true.

You think Tia Alba knew that too which is why she came with you all the way to the plane steps.

But still, you sleep for most of the flight, wrapped up protectively in Mama's strong arms.

You float between sleep and awake but Mama never disappears. Her arms hold you close and her perfume wraps around you like a blanket.

You are still tired when the plane lands. You remain tired in the trip from the airport to where Mama lives.

It is dark out now, night time and you should really be asleep.

You're sleepy but you can't sleep. Mami once said you got that from her too.

You don't want that from her though.

You only got the bad bits from Mami, you think. You can't sleep because she can't sleep. You don't go out because she doesn't go out.

You wish you got the good parts of Mami like her ability to kick a ball. You think Mami could have loved you if you could kick a ball. You think Mami would have let you stay if you could kick a ball.

Or, maybe, you could have gotten her confidence. Mami knows how to speak to people. She knows how to tell people how she's feeling. You can't do that. Maybe, if you had told Mami at the beginning, when she still loved you enough to care, she wouldn't have sent you away.

Maybe, if you had tried to be the good parts of Mami instead of the bad then you could have lived with her and Olga and Jaume.

You are with Mama now though. That is good. You like that. You know you're going to like living with Mama but some awful part of you still yearns for the Mami from Before.

You think that Mami from Before would have come to you when you fell off the slide.

You'd like to think the Mami from Before would do that but you wonder if the Mami from Before even cared about you. You wonder if you were her little guinea pig so she could be a good Mami to Jaume.

You hope you aren't.

But...

The car shuts off and Mama picks you out of your car seat. She drags in the bags but sets you on the floor so she can pick out her house keys from her pocket.

Mama has a doorknocker on her door. She doesn't have a doorbell like Mami does. Her doorknocker is pristine. It is clean and not stiff at all. You can tell it is old though but it's definitely looked after.

Mama ushers you inside, flicking on the lights as soon as she gets the lights on.

"Do you want to look around by yourself or do you want me to go around with you?"

You don't answer Mama.

She's got a mantelpiece above a fireplace that you wonder ever gets used.

But it's neither the mantel nor the fire that actually has your attention.

There's a picture that you're focussed on.

Mama is smiling at the camera. She's holding you when you were a baby, wrapped in the soft pink baby blanket she bought for you when you were very little.

She's beaming as she looks at the camera and you look perfectly happy and content in her arms.

"That's you," Mama says," When you were still a baby. I visited you and Alexia in hospital. After her and the doctors, I was the next person to hold you."

"Really?"

"Really." Mama's hand rests on your shoulder and you lean into her legs. "How about we get ready for bed? It's late."

You let her lead you away, up the stairs into what you assume is your new bedroom.

It is different from your bedroom back home. There is a mirror and a barre like at your ballet studio and rows of ballet pumps lined up next to it.

"I had someone do it up while I came to get you," Mama explains as she rummages through a few boxes for pyjamas.

They're train-themed and Mama has to puppeteer your arms because you're so exhausted.

You're so tired and you feel so strange and Mama is so warm and safe that you burst into tears.

They bubble up from some secret part of you and tear from your throat. They're full-on sobs as well, your body shaking from exertion as each of them comes out.

Mama's hands flutter uncertainly around you before you're lying against her on your new bed.

Your tears drip-drop onto her shirt and one of her big hands cup the back of your head, pushing it further into her like you're a little baby like Jaume.

You wonder if Mami is going to give your train to Jaume. You wonder if she did it last night after she visited you. You wonder if Mami is happy you are gone now.

You wonder if she's going to turn your room into Jaume's new playroom. You wonder if she's going to be happier now that she doesn't have to fit your ballet into her schedule anymore.

You have Mama now but that doesn't mean you don't think of Mami while you cry. You have Mama and she is strong and brave and you think she can take care of your feelings for you while you're still weak and scared.

You have Mama but she is not Mami like how Mami is not Mama.

Mama could never be Mami and you don't want her to be.

Mami never wanted you. You think you know that now. You think you know you were the biggest mistake of Mami's life. You think you are lucky that she loved you enough to look after you until someone else could.

You think Mami is special. She wins lots of awards for her football. People admire your Mami. They chant her name and scream their praise. Mami wins medals and trophies. She's one of the best football players in the world.

You think she'll be the best Mami in the world to Jaume too.

No, you know she'll be the best Mami in the world to Jaume.

Mami has always been a good Mami to Jaume. Jaume who is named after Abuelo. Jaume who is Olga's baby. Jaume who is wanted and loved and planned.

Everyone loves Jaume.

You love him too though you wish that you didn't. You think you would be happier if you could hate Jaume, if you could dislike him at all but he's only little and he's still your brother so you love him.

Your family shares love equally between you and him, you think, or they try to. They try to have the same amount of love for you as they have for him. You don't think that's easy to do.

You think that's why you've gone away with Mama.

It is hard and it is mean but it is what has happened.

Jaume is littler than you. He needs more help to grow up. He needs more love than you because he's a little boy and you're a big girl. You think he's going to be a footballer like Mami so he has to stay close to her so he can learn.

If one of you had to leave, of course it would be you.

In a secret part of you, hidden deep down, you think it is nice that you're left with Mama. She will never love Jaume as much as she loves you. It is bad to think about that but you like it.

You like that you don't have to share Mama's love.

You like that you will be the only child she will hold like this. You will be the only child she will tuck into bed or help at bath time. You will be the only child who will live in this house with her.

You will be the only one who she loves like this.

You do not feel bad that Jaume will never experience your Mama. He has Mami and Olga and the rest of the family.

He has a Putellas. He has always been a Putellas. He will always be a Putellas. He is Mami's son.

You have Mama. You are a Hermoso. You haven't always been a Hermoso. You will be a Hermoso forever though.

You are Mama's daughter.

[theminecraftbee]

task: answer the following question. do you believe in curses? respond as completely with relevant information as possible.

Grian: Well, that's a lie. This isn't a task. I know it's not a task, I set the things up! Not sure why we're getting a question as pointless as this one, but sure, mysterious scroll, I'll answer. There's no such thing as curses, unless you're Timmy, in which case it's funny, yeah? Besides, I didn't actually kill Etho. Even if that did count, self-fulfilling prophecies aren't the same thing as curses, and I know which one I fall under.

Joel: Do I believe in bloody curses what kind of question is that? Do I really get hearts just for answering this? This feels like a prank or something... well, whatever. There are no such thing as curses, except the Boogeyman curse, which I sort of had today, but it wasn't actually the same at all. A lot of the bloodlust, sure, but a lot more... Etho had to be the one to do it, huh? And it's not the same. Not comforting. That's a stupid thing to say actually. Take it out of wherever you're putting this. Cut it out of the recording. Comforting. Please. As if it were ever... Yeah, I'm done actually. Don't have a good answer. Go away.

Scott: What, other than Jimmy? Bless that man, he may not have died first, but he sure tried his best. Sure, I'll believe Jimmy is cursed. I mean, mostly he's just kind of stupid. Lovingly so. I mean, despite him being stupid, I put up with him, right? That seems like a complete answer to this question. Jimmy's an omen but we put up with him anyway. That's all.

Mumbo: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

Pearl: Oh, I mean, I'm probably cursed. That's what everyone liked to say at one point. I think... I mean, I think this time I have good friends, which is nice. They don't think I'm cursed. And it's not like I--I mean, it's surprisingly fun, acting cursed! And I am just acting. Acting scary, blowing up dance floors, all of that. And I don't really have to this time, so... Maybe I'm not cursed? And since it's acting, it's not real? This is a weird question.

Etho: Oh, man, that's a question. Um, do I have to answer? Because I feel like if I say no, that's really just asking for it, but if I say yes, I have to explain myself. Uh, I think I'm abstaining, unless the zombie thing from earlier counts. That was scary and I hated it. Curses are scary and I hate them in general, but apparently I'm good at them, if you ask everyone else. Um, it's not the only thing I find scary that apparently I'm good at.

Scar: Why, of course I believe in curses! Look at poor, poor... Timbert? Timmy? Jim? Gosh, sorry, I'm very tired right now. That's more proof of curses, by the way! That I'm tired. I've been tired straight since the desert, let me tell you what. And that, my friends, is a curse like no other. What a terrible beast, loneliness is. Wish me luck breaking it, because it's not happening this season!

Cleo: Oh, you mean the thing people like to blame instead of their own actions? Nah. My soulbond was kind of a curse, I guess, but even that's at least half just... bad people. Bad relationships. Good ones, too. We're all just doing what you can, you know? No script, no curses, no characters, just... Oh, I hope everything turns out tomorrow. Sorry, that's unrelated. It's just nicer to hope than to preemptively blame things on curses that don't exist.

Impulse: Well, I mean, I didn't until you just asked me that, but now I feel like I should. Wouldn't that be nice? Being cursed instead of just sort of unlovable? Sorry, no, that's mean to Gem. I shouldn't say that about Gem, she's been good this season. Super, super cursed, mind you, in the like, game mechanic sense? But she's been good, no backstabbing or inability to get love involved. Um, and I guess that's not fair to Bdubs, kind of, except it also totally is and I haven't forgiven him. So I guess if they ask I said I believed in curses, and that's why my life keeps circling clocks? Don't put any of that other stuff down, I'm trying to work on that.

Lizzie: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

Gem: I was just cursed for a task, but that probably isn't what you're asking about, right? I'm new, so I don't know! A task is a concrete thing to believe in, like bloodshed or victory or fun and games. You don't have to believe in those to know they're real, either! They just are, whether you like it or not. I understand that much!

Tango: Gah, don't talk to me about... Deep breaths. Look, I don't care if it's a curse, or if it's just me being really bad, or what, I'm not going out pointlessly this time. Jimmy managed not to die first, I can manage to not go out to a stray arrow or my own bomb or a misstep this time, right? Is that so much to ask?

Skizz: Huh? Curses? I mean, I don't think so, and to be totally honest I think it's kind of mean the way people sometimes rag on people about them. Everyone's got so many good things about them! Why do people like to focus on the unfortunate luck, huh?

Bdubs: Hah! Curses! Let me tell you about curses. When I see curses, I eat them for breakfast. I don't got curses, I've got better things to do! I've got my buddies with the Mounders, and I've got-well, I'd say keeping Etho safe, but he's being weird at me again this season. Not that it matters. It never matters. Etho and I, we're... The point is, that doesn't matter anyway, because I have the Mounders, and they're the ones who matter here. And because I'm a strong, independent Bdubs, who doesn't need anyone but my bow and my perfect, flawless fighting prowess! Sorry, what was the question? I've been thinking so much lately that it's just sort of made everything else pop out of my head, so it's hard to keep track. I'm sure I answered it flawlessly, though.

Martyn: Of course there are curses. That's half the fun for you lot, isn't it? Putting your little curses on us and watching us rail against them. Bet you think it's real cute to ask us what we think of the things, too. "Oh, what do you think of curses," like we have any control over them. Please. If I had any control over curses, Jimmy--or, well, no, I guess that one was technically broken, wasn't it? Sure doesn't feel like it. Point is, curses are bad, and they're definitely real, and I hate you for them, got it?

BigB: Look, man, if you're trying to get me to write my character out for you, just say so! I won't tell anyone. We can come up with a hole thing about holes and red tasks and the Backrooms together! It'll be fun! After all, you probably don't know what kind of curse to say I have, right? Haha, just kidding. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Luckily, neither does anyone else, so I think that evens out between the lot of us.

Jimmy: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

[leviraaaaaa]

–Where the waves fade–

"Isn't this enough exploring? We're way too far."

"Hush," You threw your hand in an airy wave, indicating him to be quiet. "We're not that far, I can still hear Hange from here."

You continued to walk, paying no mind to the streak of grumbles and mumbled curses he let out under his breath. This was the first ever time here at the sea, and you were way too entranced by it. Not to mention, Levi is Levi and he'll complain no matter what you do so you learnt long ago to just shut up and let him sulk.

You looked sideways, where the endless blue went on, waves crashing just besides your feet. Sometimes, particularly large waves washed over your feet, the water trickling over your shoes. You could feel the sand slipping way underneath, just barely enough to make you slightly unstable. It was windy, the air making your hair fly everywhere, you could taste the saltiness.

You had separated yourself from the small chaotic group, letting yourself stray away, following where the wind goes. You walked alongside the beach, sand had slipped through your boots somehow, making it uncomfortable but you didn't really care. If you're gonna see the sea might as well experience it too.

It felt good.

Like freedom.

Though clearly, Levi did not share the same point of view.

"God knows what Hange is doing, can you for fucks sake, turn around?" He called out, glancing warily from you to the back, where you could just barely see the top of the heads of Hange and the others, conflicted on whether it was safe to leave them there on their own but also hesitant to leave you as well. His shoulders were tense, even the experience of seeing something as miraculous as the sea couldn't relax him a little.

"I didn't ask you to follow me, Levi." You sighed, looking over your shoulder to meet the eyes of the man who was grumpily walking behind you. "Go back, I'll be fine."

"Yeah sure." He scowled. "I leave and then you drown."

You only rolled your eyes, not bothering to respond.

"Where the hell are you going anyways? You don't know shit around here, it's not safe."

"I dont know. I'm just walking." You halted, turning around. "Levi." You said.

"What?"

"Walk with me."

"I am."

"No, you're walking behind me, come and walk beside me." You gestured him forward. "It's okay, I won't shove you down the water."

He gave you a wary look that clearly said I don't trust you but he fastened his pace anyway, until he was beside you. He glanced down at your soggy and sand covered boots, making a repulsed expression. "You ruined your fucking shoes."

You followed his glance, looking down. "True." You smiled. Then you leaned down, hooking your fingers through the edge and took your boots off, one after the other. You threw them both somewhere behind you carelessly. Levi stared at you horrified.

"What are you doing?" He asked blankly.

"Taking my shoes off?" You mumbled, digging your heels in the sand. It felt ticklish and weird, but so soft too. "Now, there's no shoes to ruin."

"You're disgusting."

"It's just sand Levi."

"It's disgusting."

"Come on, it feels good."

"If you're trying to convince me to do the same you've gone insane.”

Safe to say, you paid no heed to him. Instead, tiptoeing over the sand carefully, you started edging towards the water. The waves crashed hard, trickling water through your toes and almost making you lose your balance but you felt glee.

“There could be like a million fucking things in there,” Levi was complaining gruffly, “We don't know shit about this place. And all of you are acting like children. Hey, are you even listeni—”

“Levi, I'm gonna run in.”

“Wh—”

But he didn't even get to finish his sentence and you were already running, squealing loudly when the wind hit you hard, the water splashing around you high with every clumsy and wild step you took and in a second you were drenched. “Oh my god!” You let out an excited laugh when a big wave crashed against your ankle, almost tipping you off. You twirled, giggling. “Oh my god!"

“Are you sure you're not gonna come in?” You yelled at him loudly, barely audible through the loud wind.

He looked down at the water, warily stepping away and casting them a suspicious glare crept closer to his boots with every wave.

He thinks. He doesn't like water. Water is unpredictable. Water is chaotic. Water is not something he can control and he doesn't like things he can't control.

But he looked at you again and all denial seemed to leave him.

The expanse of blue stretched far beyond where his eye could see. The sea was mesmerizing, timeless. But so were you.

So were you.

And for a second, Levi's head was blank.

He wasn't watching the sea anymore. All he could see was you. You, with that radiant smile of yours, in the endless blue with your hair wet and flying around everywhere, water dripping down your face. The ocean glittered, and even from here, he could see the water drops that clung to your lashes, the sheen on your lips. The flowy white blouse you wore was now completely drenched, the fabric stuck to your skin. Far in the horizon, the sun was lower, just about to set. It was sending its last few bright rays and it hit you, painting the most dazzling scene he'd ever seen.

He could hear your laughter, high and sweet, creating a beautiful harmony as the wind howled alongside, the sea roaring with every crash.

You looked unreal.

Temptations. He knew. He knew he should know better. But when had he ever known better when it came to you?

You were you and he was only just a man.

He was only a man.

Slowly, he lowered down, his fingers moving swiftly to untie the laces of his boots. He rolled up his pants and his sleeves. Then slower, even slower, he took a step.

The joy of you was beyond words. You could hardly keep your happiness contained, glowing in excitement when you saw him cautiously edging in the water with the grumpiest face. You were almost bouncing. “See?” You exclaimed happily, grinning at him. “It's not so bad right?”

When you reach out your hand, he takes it. He lets you guide him through the cold water lapping at his feet. “It's fucking freezing.” He scoffed, goosebumps rising on his skin. The sand felt weird underneath, it made him feel unstable, like something kept shifting out of his feet and he was floating.

As if on cue, a big wave crashed, kicking the balance from your feet. You'd already been swaying, unused to the constantly shifting water and the soft ground. As the water rushed past you, you almost tipped over

“Oh fuck—” The curse escaped you as you felt your feet lose it's hold and you leaned forward. But Levi was quicker, his arms grabbing onto your waist before you fell face first, stabilizing you. You shot an apologetic grin towards him, holding on his arms to regain your balance. He did not look impressed.

“I warned you.” He said flatly. “I'm not gonna fish you out if you fall and drown and die.”

“You just did though.”

“Keep talking and that'll change.” But his grip tightened around you.

You didn't push further. You've already pushed your luck far beyond when you'd managed to get him into the water. If you pushed further, chances were he'd drag you out of here. Nope, you'll take what you get.

The two of you stood like that for a while. The chilly water licked at your knees, rushing up to meet you as you just let the rhythm of the waves brush over you, the horizon stretching out into infinity. The salty air filled your lungs as you shared this unspoken moment—a glimpse of something bigger, a freedom so rare in your world that neither of you knew how long it would last.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” You said softly, gaze set on the horizon. The setting sun gleamed off of your eyes.

Is it? He wondered as he looked at you. You were watching the ocean with the widest eyes, like you'd been entranced by it.

The ocean was beautiful. In its own strange way. There was this vastness about it, endlessly stretching blue. But he could hardly be aware of what was before him when you were beside him.

You're beautiful, is what he wants to say.

It's something in your eyes, he thought. The certain spark only you've ever had. There was an entire ocean in your eyes. There was an entire universe in your eyes. He wanted to tell you he had already seen everything beautiful there was to see. He doesn't need the fucking ocean or the mountains or the stars, everything you're always being sappy about. He had the fate to look at you.

He doesn't say any of it though. He doesn't have the guts too.

Instead, he slides his fingers through yours. You look surprised, but you don't pull away. He almost stop breathing when your hold tightened.

He didn't know what you were thinking and he didn't want to know. He hoped you think it's because he doesn't want you to fall or to trip. He hoped you wouldn't feel the rush of blood in his ears that howled louder than the wind ever could. He hoped you didn't see the look on his face or hear the heart that was slamming against his chest.

He hoped that you would never find out. But he was so, so scared. So scared as the sun set and the light was leaving the world, with the waves washing away, that if he doesn't hold on to you, you'd slip through his fingers. You'd fade. You'd disappear like every good thing he's ever had in his life.

So he held on.

[symp4nat]

"I'm not yours!"

clarisse la rue x fem!reader

authors note mainly for me: being fwb w/clarisse and her getting jealous.

warnings - slightly suggestive (but doesnt go in detail, its just like... idk... there), kissing, jealous!clarisse, arguing

You left her bed, panting. You sat up and wiped the sweat off your face and then got up to get dressed. "Hey, can I have this jacket," you asked Clarisse. She rolled her eyes. "Sure, I guess, it's pretty cold outside," she responded. You nodded and slipped on her jacket. As you began to leave, she said, "Stay safe, you."

You gave her a small smile. "Thank you, you too, see you later," you asked curiously. Clarisse slowly shook her head. "Maybe at night... but we're strangers in the morning, understand," she asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you mumbled, "Oh.." With a gulp, you nodded and walked out. "Night," you said gently and closed the door. Gentle footsteps filled the night and you quietly hummed to yourself. You silently slipped into your cabin and then your own bed without any of your siblings noticing. Or so you thought.

In the wake of daybreak, you woke up to your siblings all stealing glances at you. You shrugged it off. Your birthday was coming up soon and you had suspected that they were trying to plan a surprise. This behaviour quickly became worse, as they could barely meet your eye.

The one person who looked into your eyes, Izzie. She was from another cabin, and you were aware that she had a crush on you. Honestly, you only had eyes for Clarisse, but Izzie wasn't the worst, she was sweet, kind, caring.... Clarisse was dangerous, explosive. But just like a moth drawn to a flame, you couldn't keep your hands off her. She was... extraordinary. And you admired her.

Then it went downhill. Clarisse never batted an eye at you, but today, during dinner, she did. She couldn't keep her eyes off you. In any other situation, you would have been delighted, but she had an angry, passive look on her beautiful face. She tried to stay calm, but as Izzie approached you, it was almost as if a fire was ignited in her eyes.

She wanted you, she couldn't deny it, but she didn't want to admit it, what would people think?

Yet she did nothing. She sat there and ripped her eyes off of you and tried to think of anything or everything but you.

It was impossible though. Clarisse got up from her table and grabbed your arm. She began to drag you behind one of the cabins and she pinned you against it. "What was that, hm? Whatcha think you were doin' back there, princess?"

You squirmed against her grasp. "Why would you care?! It doesn't concern you."

Clarisse clenched her jaw and grit out through her teeth, "Because you're mine."

Your eyes faltered and you sighed, "But I'm not yours!"

"Leave, then. If you're not mine, then leave," Clarisse taunted as she let go of your shirt that was bunched up in her hands. You turned to walk away and she mumbled, "Don't lie like that," and pulled you into a kiss. One that you could sense her emotion in. As your arms wrapped around her neck and her hands tangled into your hair, you knew it was gentle, despite the previous context of it.

A few of your siblings peeked out from the corner of the cabin and laughed. "I knew it, she and Clarisse aren't just friends," they teased. You gently pulled away from the brunette's soft lips, realizing why everyone was acting so weird this morning. You reached for Clarisse's hand and squeezed it with a confident voice, "She's my girlfriend."

[stupidlittlespirit]

Ahh so I’m the same Anon that sent the College!Ford sarcastic praise ask!!! I’m so glad you liked my little blurb, I absolutely loved Freaks and was high-key thinking about it when I came up with that praise idea! I absolutely love how you write Ford, and I’m honestly so hyped for any of your other writing projects! Very excited for the cabin one 💓

I’ve also got another praise suggestion! (If your still open to receiving them that is 🙈)

Ok this premises a little wild, but hear me out. Reader and Ford accidentally swap bodies (probably from the Carpet Diem carpet) and since this would be a post-portal/post-Weirdmageddon!Ford, seeing his body being controlled by someone else just, initially brings back bad memories. Reader who only has limited knowledge about what Ford experienced with Bill, takes this as an opportunity to show Ford’s body kindness.

Reader would just dote over Ford, admiring themselves as him and reassuring Ford that they would never harm his body, they care too much about him to ever consider doing that.

As Reader showers Ford with praise, they note how strong he is as a person, (because Reader can literally feel all of Ford’s aches and pains he accumulated over the years.) Reader goes on about how Ford’s body is truly a marvel, hands absolutely included (I can see Reader getting very deep and passionate about genes and the human body, and just how amazing Ford’s hands are; how its rare for someone to be born with fully functional polydactyly, on both hands no less!)

And Ford (in Readers body) is just…at a loss for words? Ford is just so unfamiliar with receiving earnest, soft appreciation he doesn’t know how to respond or act in this situation, it’s admittedly, a little odd for him to see himself…love himself? Ford is just so use to either being fairly dismissive of his own body, or feeling shame over his hands. So him hearing someone truly love and respect those things about him?! Has Ford absolutely floored

lol idk if this premise is…a little weird? But I thought it could be a cute supernatural trust activity?!? lol

OH ANON now this is cinema!

Don't ever apologise for getting weird with it, that's what I'm all about. The weirder the better!

This is so fucking cute and unique.

Under the cut as always:

I think the idea that Ford has chronic pain fits this really nicely too because yeah, imagine swapping bodies with this guy and being like '....damn bitch, you live like this?' I have it myself and I know that shit sucks.

The moment you swap you're initially just left reeling by the immediate physical sensations: how absolutely starving he is, how exhausted and low-energy he is. He's sore and tender in spots you've never even considered before and there's not even any indication for the cause of the pain, either. It's almost phantom in nature. And when you bring it up, Ford is very much like "yeah but hey, that's old age, right? Totally normal! Painkillers are for the weak!" and Reader is just flabbergasted by it.

Ford being utterly overbearing as he watches you pilot him around, telling you what to do with his body and getting frustrated with the fact that you're not treating him the way he does himself because he's right about everything, it's always been that way and he's functioning just fine, thank you very much.

I can see Reader righting all the wrongs regardless of Ford's insistence that he's fine, too, no matter how pissy he gets about it. Like no, we're gonna sit your ass down and eat this meal, we're going to take an hour long bath and get the dirt out from under your nails.

The concept that he's so afraid you'll deface and abuse his body like Bill did without even realising he's been doing the same thing to himself for years.

And yeah, Reader complimenting all of Ford's being in a way that's much deeper than god you're fucking hot. The way he looks, his scars and his tattoos, his perfectly average physique, all of it. I think his hands would take some getting used to as well. Having six fingers when you're only used to five would probably be kind of hard to work with at first? Forgetting to give yourself enough space to move them when reaching for something or being a little clumsy when handling stuff. But that doesn't mean they're not marvels in and of themselves, and Reader would be just absolutely taken with them.

Ahhhh you're onto something here anon....

and imagine Ford experiencing arousal in the Reader's body in reaction to the praise and care he's receiving, being fascinated by the difference in sensation. The need he'd have to examine that only to find that- oh hang on, that's really quite nice and actually would you mind fucking him? He's always wondered what it would feel like, hasn't every man?

I could also not resist a 2002 Scooby Doo, Fred Jones-esque 'I can look at myself naked' moment