hauntlikeaghost0
i am a forest fire.
florence - she/they - 19 - ravenclaw - infp- ACAB/BLM - eat the rich -
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please know that I would literally do anything for this man
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mentally: i’m in my hoe era
physically: i’m lying in bed and giggling at edits of pedro pascal
what a man
#pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller#the mandalorian#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x reader#dilf#tlou#joel tlou
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wait never mind fuck this guy
no, wednesday addams does not need a boyfriend. she is a strong, independent female character. i, however am not.
oh my god i need him. please let me have him. i need him. i need him so bad.
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i need mutuals on this app desperately. please be friends with me
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no one suffers more than girls who are a bit like their fathers
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dk if anyone’s seen those tiktok’s of that person making coffee for builders just to see them use their dainty little tea cups
but i can’t stop thinking of that with frank castle.
this big scary buff murderer sipping out of readers tiny little pastel tea cups. how he’s capable of such voilence but has to stand there holding it so delicately
frank leaning up against a kitchen counter, so imposing, grasping this fragile pink china in his large hands
ugh i can’t
#frank castle#the punisher#frank castle fluff#frank castle x reader#frank castle x karen page#kastle#marvel
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how did you learn to write well?
well first you have to be a very sad child
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no, wednesday addams does not need a boyfriend. she is a strong, independent female character. i, however am not.
oh my god i need him. please let me have him. i need him. i need him so bad.
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CRUEL SUMMER BY TAYLOR SWIFT AND JESPER FAHEY
#that’s it that’s the post#jesper fahey#jesper fahey x reader#six of crows#taylor swift#six of crows fanfic#kaz brekker x reader#kanej
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oneshot for being on a train and falling asleep on robin’s shoulder? and she tries her best to stay still so she doesn’t have to wake you, and when she finally does because it’s your stop she apologises again and again, promising you can sleep when you get home :))
sleeping beauty | r.b.
robin buckley x gn!reader
summary: see request^
warnings: none? robin is a little bit insecure of her rambling. fluff.
a/n: was intending this to just be a lil drabble but i got a bit carried away. anyway robin would definitely be a bowie fan. loved this concept and can’t wait to write more robin. hope u like it!
it has been a really long day.
and it isn’t until you settle down onto the uncomfortable train seat that you begin to feel the dull ache in your bones and the heavy weight of your eyelids. luckily, it’s only a short journey back into hawkins and robin still seemed animated and talkative enough to keep you distracted from your tiredness until you were back home in the safety of your bed.
currently she’s explaining with great enthusiasm why ‘hunky dory’ is bowie’s best album, the words tumbling from her mouth almost faster than your exhausted mind can keep up with.
“i just don’t see how you can start an album with the masterpiece that is ‘changes’ and that not be considered the best album!” she is talking just slightly too loud; each word is spoken as though punctuated with an exclamation point. her energy raising her voice to ensure she gets her point across.
“not only that!” she continues, turning in her seat to point at you dramatically, face alight with a grin. “it’s followed by ‘oh! you pretty things.’ that’s literally one of my favourite songs ever. i mean… come on!”
something warm and giddy bubbles up inside you at how endearing her passion is and you can’t help the smile that instantly overtakes your features whenever she gets like this. somehow she manages to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of everything she likes and can talk fervently about each one for hours. you always love to indulge her, instead of shutting her down like most people seem to, because her excitement is always impossibly contagious.
“but ‘suffragette city,’ rob.” is all you respond, trying and failing to stifle a yawn, as you wiggle down in your seat to get more comfortable.
it’s not a lot of feedback but it’s all robin needs to be spurred into a rant, instantly arguing that ‘the rise and fall of ziggy stardust’ is too obvious. you roll your eyes, still smiling at her antics, and let your head fall back against the seat. you focus on the soft rasp in her voice, feeling comforted by the familiarity and just manage to make out a few more odd david bowie references before the sound is all blurring into one and your eyes fall shut. the gentle movement of the train guiding you into a deep sleep.
robin’s rambling is suddenly cut short when she feels a soft weight fall onto her shoulder. she freezes, hands still raised and mid sentence, her eyes going wide. stiff as a board, she spares a glance down at you, unsure whether she’d be relieved or terrified to see you still be awake. she let’s out the breath she was holding in when she sees your eyes closed, head comfortably resting against her shoulder. heat rises in her cheeks.
lowering her hands slowly, she takes in your appearance. the relaxed peacefulness of your sleeping features; lashes resting against your cheek and mouth slightly ajar. butterflies invading her stomach as she gazes just a little too long at your lips. she observes the slow rise and fall of your chest and shoulders, the pieces of hair that have fallen into your face. settling back into the seat, careful not to wake you, she wonders if you’ll dream and what you’ll dream of.
suddenly, robin cringes, realising her boring rambling may have been what knocked you out. she knew had a tendency to chatter people into boredom or annoyance; never being able to slow her brain down enough to read peoples reactions, and hated the thought that she had done that to you. or maybe you didn’t even want to go to sleep, maybe you’ll be annoyed that she didn’t wake you, maybe she should wake you.
her thoughts begin to spiral, suddenly second-guessing every decision she’s ever made and internally panicking. however, all her worry melts away when she hears a soft sigh leave your lips and looks down to see you pushing yourself into her side further, slotting your shoulders together. she can’t fight the smile that befalls her. how could she possibly wake you when she has you, so soft and beautiful, against her. just for a while she’ll pretend this is the gentle domesticity of a relationship and selfishly revel in your closeness until the end of the journey pulls you apart.
robin spends the next 20 minutes back into hawkins with her entire body stiff, trying desperately to stay as still as humanly possible so as not to wake you. each shift in the ride and bump on the tracks has her glancing down in panic that the train dares to disturb your slumber. you’re ‘sleeping beauty’ she thinks for a brief, sweet moment before shaking the thought away. her knitted fingers twist in her lap as she fights her usual urge to fidget and fuss after being still for too long. each minute, she fends off more and more tender thoughts about you, berating herself for being so smitten for someone seemingly uninterested.
there’s a mixture of relief and disappointment that washes over her as the conductor announces the next stop: hawkins. she hesitates momentarily, considering the best way to wake you before shifting awkwardly in her seat to face you better. cautiously, raising a hand, she softly jostles your shoulder, muttering your name in a soft whisper. you wriggle but don’t quite wake. instead, her hand moves to your face, tenderly gripping your cheek as she speaks your name more clearly.
you gasp a sharp intake of breath and your eyes blink open. you’re slightly disoriented as you awaken, the material of the train seat and stiffness of your spine feeling unfamiliar. but, what surprises you most, is the feeling of a cool hand resting against your cheek. tilting your head upwards, you lock eyes with robin’s concerned ocean blue gaze. heat floods your features at the closeness of your faces, eyes automatically dancing down to glance at her lips before catching yourself and locking eyes with her once more. the air is thick between your both for several long, tense seconds before robin swallows harshly and pulls herself away.
still slightly disoriented, you quickly shuffle to be sitting up in your chair again, waiting for your heart to stop hammering in your chest. for a moment you wonder if you’re still sleeping and simply dreamed that heated moment between you both until robin begins to speak and confirms it to be reality.
“we’re getting off in a minute.” she says, not quite meeting your eyes. “i’m really sorry for waking you.”
you rub your tired eyes. “it’s fine, sorry for falling asleep on you.”
both your words are timid, and sit awkwardly in the aftermath of your tense interaction.
“you must have been tired. sorry if i bored you, i can do that. i also feel really bad for having to wake you up. i’m really sorry. super sorry.” robin begins to ramble as usual and a little bit or normality is returned to the situation.
you know how to respond to this, this is familiar. not whatever happened before.
“honestly robin, it’s fine.” you smile at her with reassurance. “please stop apologising.”
your tone is exasperated and a laugh is shared between you as she opens her mouth to apologise once more and you have to rush to silence her. it feels like you can make eye contact comfortably again, but something has still changed in the way she’s looking at you.
“okay, okay.” she holds her hands up in surrender. “how was your sleep?”
you blush thinking about just how well you slept and wonder if you should be chalking it down to robins presence. the comforting warmth of her body next to yours and familiar fresh scent of her clothes made thirty minutes feel like a deep, full nights rest.
“really good actually,” you reply slightly sheepishly.
the train begins to slow to a stop and you both stand to begin collecting your things. robin turns her back to you to slide on her jacket and a burst of confidence spurs through you.
“i should fall asleep on you more often”
your tone is jokey but she senses intention behind it and freezes whilst pulling her sleeve on. you hold your breath, ready to gage her reaction. a beat of silence passes before an awkward forced laugh fall from her lips. she turns to face you again, finally finished putting in her jacket. the pink tinge to her cheeks and the way her head is bashfully downturned makes your grin widen. please flirt back, the voice in your head begs.
“oh yeah?” she asks, her voice lilting in a teasing way and a slight shiver dancing in your spine. “yeah. you should.”
it’s spoken like a promise, which you both intend to uphold.
#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley fluff#robin buckley x you#stranger things imagines#robin buckley#stranger things 4#nancy wheeler x reader#nancy wheeler
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IM GETTING A KITTEN ON SUNDAY!!!!! SO EXCITED I HAD TO TELL THIS SILLY LITTLE APP.
#she’s so precious#wait till i can show u all#i’m so happy#going to call her olive <3#kitten#new cat owner
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been dying for a fic with this song omg, this is so cute!!! <3333
i’ll never love a boy the way i love the ocean | robin buckley x gn!reader
description: you’re in love with your bestfriend and her ocean blue eyes
warnings: swearing, like a little angsty, implied era-typical homophobia (barely)
a/n: i’m literally in love with the song to love a boy by maya hawke so this only seemed appropriate :)
won’t let me link it but just youtube it if ur interested
Robin has blue eyes, the colour of the ocean.
Perhaps it’s not something you’re supposed to notice about your best friend. It’s the sort of observations meant for lovers, for poetry and music.
But Robin's eyes are the colour of the ocean, the kind poets write of getting lost in, and sometimes, it feels like you‘be been drowning in them for years.
Today the setting sun hits them in a way that makes them lighter, and the first you notice is whilst you’re walking together from the movie theatre, whilst she’s rambling on about the film you watched together.
“I mean, next time I’m choosing the film, (y/n).” Robin says, “You’re my best friend but god, you need a movie education.”
You manage an uncommitted hum, busy fighting off the butterflies that are making you feel queasy, trying to ignore the way her hand grazes your own by your side as you walk, each time making you feel almost dizzy.
Ocean eyes, freckles, warm hands…
You can’t pinpoint the moment those features meant so much to you, when you began to catalogue them, to adore them. Sometimes, you can’t imagine a time where they didn’t mesmerise you.
“I mean, it was cheesy in the worst way.”
Robin’s hands lift from her sides with an dramatising hand action that makes a small smile climb to your cheeks, eyes dropping sheepishly to the ground.
“I know.”
Robin laughs and your brows pull into a sort of pained expression, smile faltering and chest tightening.
Eyes, freckles, hands, laughter.
It’s never been a startling realisation, one that brings with it the relief of understanding. You would prefer that, one big, eye opening moment that you could find somewhere to put afterwards, somewhere to store in the far corner of your brain and move on from.
But the realisation that you have fallen in love with your best friend is one that gnaws away at you, the kind that only solidifies with time and becomes entirely too much to store anywhere but everywhere, in every glance and every smile.
And it all started with those ocean eyes.
On days like today, it’s entirely too much, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever love a boy as much as you love those eyes.
And the thought makes you queasy.
“Oh, hey,” Robin begins, frown audible in her gentle, raspy voice, “I’m just joking, (y/n/n). You can choose the next film, I don’t mind- you know I’m just not one for rom-coms-“
You laugh, horrified when it leaves your lips just a little broken. Robin stills by your side, brows creasing with concern, one hand reaching out to pull you to a stop with her.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
When you look up, her eyes are wide, and you can see specs of green in her irises, lips parting wordlessly. Her head tilts a little, curiously, and you realise that you’ve been well and truly caught.
“Do you ever think of who you’ll fall in love with?”
Robin brows lift in surprise, smirk finding her lips, readied with a joke when she spots the solemn expression still etched on your face.
“I-“ She says, smile dropping, “I guess… Why? You’re kind of worrying me here, (y/n).”
“I think I love someone,” You admit, voice quiet despite the courage it’s taken to produce it at all suddenly. “I know that I love them, actually.”
Something twitches on Robin's face, something oddly like disappointment, and her hand pulls back from your own slowly, inviting the cold to prick your skin.
“Oh.” She smiles half heartedly. “And who is the lucky guy?”
You gives her a long contemplative look, anxiety stirring in your chest. Biting your lip, you inhale shakily through your nose.
“What- what if it’s not a guy, Robin?”
In the new silence, you can hear Robin’s breath catch with realisation. Her blue eyes meet yours, wide and knowing, and for the first time, your scared to look into them, scared of what you’ll find.
“You’re in love with… a girl?” Robin clarifies tentatively.
You nod, eyes trained at the scuff marks on your shoes. The silence that settles between you both is so intense it makes you feel dizzy.
“Well, is she a nice girl?” Robin asks, sounding slightly strained, “I can only assume she likes the same crappy movies as you, but I’m sure she’s got redeemable qualities too.”
You laugh, a startled sound as you look up in surprise of her acceptance. She smiles at you, a little forced, but it’s enough to still the panic that was slowly bubbling in your chest.
“She hates my taste in movies.” You admit.
“A woman of taste.”
You know Robin well, so well acquainted with her face that you can see the hurt in the crease between her brows, the subtle disappointment.
You might go as far as to say jealousy.
This realisation is the big, eye opening moment. It brings a jolt of hope right into your chest that seeps outwards like an electric current, until the buzz reaches your finger tips.
“She has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”
It’s escaped from you lips before you can even consider the consequences, and the crease between Robin’s brows deepens, forced smile faltering just a little.
“I’m happy for you.”
The lie only spurs you on, and you reach out for her hands, smiling softly at the familiar warm touch. You find yourself fidgeting with a ring on her index finger.
“(y/n)?”
She glances down at your joined hands, and when look up, she’s already staring at you with parted lips, and there’s a red colour climbing her neck that confirms your newest suspicions.
“Did you know your eyes are the same colour as the ocean?” You ask, smiling nervously. “Blue but with this little hint of green… they’re gorgeous, Robin.”
Robins hands tense in your own, and that crease in her brows softens, breath trembling as it leave her lips. You hold her eyes with more confidence than you ever thought possible.
“It’s me.”
“It’s you.”
Robin stands frozen, and for a moment, your new confidence dwindles, and you worry you’ve been swept away in the hope of it all, and the colour of her eyes.
Then, she’s pulling her hands from yours and before you can panic, plan your excuses, their cupping your cheeks, the pads of her thumbs grazing your cheeks softly.
“It’s me.” She repeats, smiling, “Holy shit, it’s me.”
Her eloquence causes almost makes you laugh, but you’re struggling to tell whether it’s in excitement or humiliating humour. Her grin widens, and she lets out a disbelieving laugh.
“Holy shit.” She repeats.
“I’m going to have to ask you to stop swearing at my confession, thanks.”
“Sorry,” She beams, “But I just-“
“Holy shit,” You say, “I know.”
She shakes her head, gently running her thumbs across your cheek bone. She turns only to glance around then empty street before returning, tongue darting across her lips nervously.
Suddenly you feel like putty in her hands.
“Are you going to kiss me?” You realise, smile twitching at your lips.
“If you let me.”
You’re nodding as you tug her closer, hand wrapped around the fabric of her shirt. She draws your face closer with her hands and when you kiss, everything falls into place.
Her lips are just slightly chapped, but they move gently, perfectly, with your own. In all your wildest daydreams, you’d never allow yourself to imagine this, and you chase her lips as she pulls back , small sound of complaint escaping you in a sharp sigh.
“Oh, don’t worry.” She grins, “I intend to kiss you for hours sometime”
“Oh?”
“It gives me something to do during your crappy film choices-“
You step back with a roll of your eyes, but she catches you with an arm around her waist, grinning gleefully.
“I love you too.” She says softly.
And you soften against her, balancing yourself on her shoulder, and she gives you a look of utter enchantment. You wonder how you’ve never noticed it before, all that love in those ocean eyes.
“Holy shit.” You exhale, smiling.
She rolls her eyes, unravelling herself from your waist as you laugh. When she grabs your hand, she guides it into her pocket, and through a grin, you almost point out what a terrible rom-com cliche she’s entertaining.
“Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“To the video store, so we can rent as many shitty rom-coms as Steve will let us, and I can kiss you, for hours.”
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