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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months

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A Room Away

Requested Here!

Edit: Part 2 Here

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Tired of Tim's bad moods, Angela gets him a new roommate: you. As Tim gets to know you and learns about your past, you slowly become more than his roommate.

Warnings: mentions of past domestic abuse (reader and Tim), reader has chronic migraines from past head trauma, nightmares, reader has a panic attack, angst, fluff, Nyla and Angela. (roommates to lovers)

Word Count: 4.2k+ words

A/N: Parts of this are so self-indulgent. The migraine depictions are based on my migraines, but I think they're some of the most common symptoms. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! (I'm still trying to get Tim's character down, so apologies if he's OOC.)🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

Tim sits in the back of the room for roll call, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as unimpressed sighs escape him. Angela is getting tired of his seemingly perpetual bad mood. Clearly, he’s lonely, but he will never admit it. And that loneliness makes him mopey and broody (Angela’s official motto for Tim Bradford) until he has enough and snaps at someone.

Sitting at her desk, Angela watches Tim yell at a boot. He’s always harsh with them, trying to prepare them for anything, but now he’s using them as punching bags for his forbidden feelings.

“What’s his problem? He’s grumpier than usual,” Nyla says as she joins Angela.

“He’s lonely,” Angela answers. “Won’t admit it or do anything about it.”

“That man needs a girlfriend,” Nyla muses.

Angela sits up straighter and smiles. “You’re a genius, Harper.”

“I know.”

Angela opens a website on her computer, and Nyla pulls up a seat to watch her intervention into Tim’s personal life.

“You’re going to rent out his spare room without telling him? This’ll be fun to watch,” Nyla says, laughing.

“He has way too much room for just one guy. Getting him a roommate and a girlfriend will surely help with.. that,” she finishes, gesturing toward Tim.

“A roommate and a girlfriend, or a roommate who becomes a girlfriend?”

“Either should work.”

“That’s your number.”

Angela nods, putting her contact information on the listing. “Tim would shut it down after the first call, so I’ll interview them, run background checks, whatever, and find the perfect one.”

“Well, Mrs. Right is always found on Craigslist,” Nyla jokes.

“This isn’t Craigslist.”

“Semantics.”

Angela posts the listing, and she and Nyla hope getting Tim a roommate will help nudge him out of his bad mood. He needs someone to talk to and bond with, but he’ll never come to that conclusion on his own. Which is why Angela considers herself to be such a good friend.

✯✯✯✯✯

Los Angeles is a big city, which is part of why you chose it without another thought. Full of opportunities and a chance of fading into the background, it’s the complete opposite of your home, which overflows with memories. The patched drywall you were pushed into, the stained tile where you thought everything was going to end, and the china cabinet with the shattered glass are left behind and traded in for a minimum wage job, a used car, and a lot of panic that you won’t be able to find somewhere to live.

You’ll need a roommate until you can save enough money for your own place. However, finding a decent place with a decent roommate is nearly impossible in your price range. Browsing online listings, you see one that could be promising. The information at the bottom says there is an interview process, which catches your attention. Sending a text to Angela Lopez, you cross your fingers for good luck before walking into work.

By the end of your shift, Angela has replied and asked you to meet somewhere nearby. You want to go home, a dull headache building at the base of your skull impairing your mood. But you also really want a better place to call home than the pay-by-the-month motel you’re currently living in.

Angela gives you a firm handshake as she introduces herself as an LAPD detective. She asks questions about your life, job, hobbies, and finally, why you moved to Los Angeles.

“I just needed a change of pace; was ready to leave my old life behind, find something bigger and better,” you answer, a simplified version of the truth.

Trying not to show it, Angela immediately takes a liking to you. Each of your answers solidifies her gut instinct that you’re a good fit for Tim. You ask why her name was on this listing if it’s not her house, and she follows your lead and gives you the truth, but not all of it.

“Tim, the owner of the house, is a coworker and friend, and I’m just trying to help him out while he’s busy with work,” she explains.

As you leave the meeting, Angela gives you her personal number, as well as someone named Nyla Harper’s number, “just in case you need anything.”

She texts you a time and address, telling you to meet her at your new place the following afternoon. You thank her repeatedly before driving to the trashy motel one last time.

✯✯✯✯✯

Parking outside the house, you fall in love with the neighborhood and the cute architecture of the home. Angela meets you in the driveway, seeming more nervous than excited. You realize she may not have been totally honest with you as you follow her to the door.

An incredibly handsome man opens the door, sighing when he sees Angela. He lets both of you in, seeming to trust Angela completely.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim knows he will regret opening the door, but the woman with Angela is beautiful, and deep down, a small part of him wants to know who she is and why she’s on his doorstep.

“This is your new roommate,” Angela announces, giving Tim your name.

“You didn’t,” Tim responds. “Please tell me you didn’t rent out my spare room without asking me, Lopez.”

“I won’t tell you that, then.”

Standing quietly to the side, you anxiously watch their argument.

“Um, sorry,” you begin, interrupting them. “But I can go, and find a new place, since this is clearly not what you signed up for.”

You move toward the door before stopping when Angela demands, “Don’t go anywhere.”

She gives Tim a stern look before cocking her head to the side. He sighs like he has accepted his fate, a tragedy based on his reaction. Gesturing for you to follow him, he gives you a quick tour before showing you to your new room and bathroom.

“I’m not home a ton, but when I am, I’m usually watching a game or just hanging out, so,” he tells you before trailing off.

You nod before promising, “You won’t even know I’m here.”

Tim wants to believe you, but he also thinks you’re pretty and kind enough that he wouldn’t mind seeing you occasionally.

✯✯✯✯✯

You cross paths with Tim a few times in the first two days of living with him. He’s struck by your beauty each time but recognizes that you don’t open up willingly, so he never presses you to talk. Content to be ships passing in the night, Tim gives you a nod before continuing out the door.

It’s your third night in the house that Tim learns your reserved qualities may not be as simple as a personality trait. Waking when he hears a strange noise, Tim listens in the darkness before deciding it’s your footsteps he hears. Based on the sound, you're pacing, so Tim gets out of bed and walks to the kitchen. He walks right past you, and you give him an apologetic smile before slowing down. Tim makes you a mug of calming tea, sliding it across the kitchen island before sitting beside you as you drink it. Suspecting you had a nightmare or some similarly disturbing experience, Tim reminds you where you are and that everything is okay in his own way.

Over the next week, you wake him up a few more times, thrashing in your bed or exiting your room once you wake. He nudges each time, offering to let you talk about it, but you never do. You always apologize for waking him, thank him for keeping you company and making you tea before you disappear back into yourself and into your room.

✯✯✯✯✯

You’ve lost count of the days and nights spent in Tim’s house, your sense of time thrown off by the continued plague of nightmares and the monotony of your days. As you wake up after a surprisingly dreamless sleep, you immediately turn your face back into the pillow. Your heartbeat pounds in your head, and everything seems brighter and louder. The migraines have been nearly as consistent as the nightmares since before you left for Los Angeles.

Tim knocks on your door, and you groan as the sound echoes in your brain. He cracks the door, concerned that you aren’t up yet.

“Are you okay?” he asks, seeing your current state.

“Migraine,” you answer. “I called in sick.”

He closes the door to block the light from outside and lowers his voice to ask, “Do you need anything before I leave?”

“I’m okay. Thanks.”

“Well, call me if you do, or if anything changes, okay?”

“I will. Thank you, Tim. Have a good day.”

Tim nods, even though you can’t see him, before backing out of your room and exiting the house as quietly as possible. He keeps his ringer on, looking at his phone every few minutes as his concern for you remains at the forefront of his mind.

Angela and Nyla notice his usual grumpy disposition seems to have been replaced with concern for something, or someone. After he checks his phone for the fifth consecutive time, Angela decides to pry.

“How’s the beautiful roomie? Still just a roommate?” she asks.

“She’s not feeling well,” Tim answers.

Angela waits for an elaboration, but Tim doesn’t offer one. She looks at Nyla, who gives a knowing look. It’s obvious that Tim is softening toward you, but you haven’t made enough of an impact that he’s less grumpy or snappy. As the day continues, his usual personality returns, convinced that you must be okay, or you would have called.

The next day, after learning that you are, in fact, feeling better, Tim is back to his pre-roommate levels of anger and high strung-ness. To worsen his mood, you wake him up with a nightmare but refuse to let him in, not even acknowledging his kind questioning as to how you are. He’s worried about you because you welcomed his presence before, but he is also angry that you changed so quickly, and now you don’t trust him. Everything is piling on, and Tim isn’t sure how much more he can carry.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Just tell me something,” Angela presses.

“Stay out of it, Lopez!” Tim yells, his emotions reaching a boiling point. “I didn’t even want a puppy- a roommate! If you like her so much, why don’t you take her in?”

Angela waits for his shoulders to drop slightly before asking, “Timothy… is this because you don’t like her, or because you do?”

Tim’s jaw clenches, and his nostrils flare as he turns away, offering to go on patrol while Nolan and Celina go to the shooting range. Everyone seems to think they know Tim better than they do; Angela is pushing him toward you while you’re distancing yourself, and the push and pull is tiring.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim waits in his truck in the driveway for a few minutes before walking in. When he walks in, you’re standing in the kitchen. He hasn’t actually seen you since the day of your last migraine when you stopped trusting him, and your sudden willingness to be in the same area confuses him. Anger and confusion rarely mix well; with Tim, it’s a fatal combination.

You notice his tension and knitted brows, chewing your bottom lip before asking, “Are you okay?”

Stumbling to his tipping point for the second time in the day, Tim takes all his anger and confusion over his feelings out on you.

“What do you think? You can’t decide if I’m worth trusting with something as small as a nightmare, and Angela thinks that I’m practically neglecting you,” he begins.

You swallow harshly as his voice rises, stumbling backward when he starts moving his arms.

“Especially considering I didn’t even want you here!”

Flinching, you snap your eyes closed and catch yourself on the corner of the wall. Tim freezes as he watches you. Everything begins snapping into place in his mind: your nightmares and the distance added to your reaction to him yelling and moving his hand are all signs he should have noticed sooner.

Your chest is heaving as you take short breaths, and when you finally open your eyes, you look terrified. Tim steps back, keeping his hands where you can see them. You focus on him as you slide down the wall, cradling your head in your hands as you fight off bad memories and a growing headache.

Tim watches you before sitting on the floor, keeping his distance. He waits for you to calm down, willing to let you decide whether or not you want to talk to him. You finally look back up at him, but he doesn’t move.

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“Can I come closer?” Tim asks.

You nod, and Tim slides across the floor, not wanting to stand up and look any more imposing than necessary. His knee presses gently against your thigh, and when you don’t move, he gives you a small smile – the first you’ve ever seen.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” you say, fiddling with your fingers.

“Please don’t,” Tim replies, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t mad at you, just angry with a long day. But that’s no reason to yell at you or act like that. You confused me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. That’s on me.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat.

“Don’t. When I was younger, my dad took his anger out on me sometimes. I’m sure I deserved it once or twice, but I also know better than to treat people like an emotional outlet. If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

You nod before saying, “My ex.”

Tim feels a protective surge at the idea of anyone hurting you, let alone doing it enough times that yelling pushes you to the point of a panic attack.

After comforting you with proximity and kind words, Tim offers to walk you to bed. Your hand brushes his as he opens your door, and you smile as you thank him for everything. It’s a minor change in your relationship but an important one.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim leaves before you wake up the following morning, determined to find out as much as he can about you and your past. He’s not necessarily being nosy, but he wants to know if there’s anything specific that could help or hurt you.

“What do you know?” he demands as he storms up to Angela’s desk.

“About what?” she replies, raising her brows.

“What do you mean ‘about what’? Her!”

Nyla leans back in her chair, glad to watch the unfolding drama.

“Tim, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Angela explains.

“Why’d she move to LA?”

“Are you seriously trying to find something wrong with her? That’s low.”

Tim moves around her desk, dropping his voice to answer, “I’m trying to figure out who thought it was okay to put their hands on her. Because she won’t let me in.”

Angela begins connecting the dots you left untouched. You ran from the person controlling your life, not your actual life. She knew that you were omitting something during your initial meeting, but she didn’t expect it to be so big.

“Have you been open with her?” Angela asks finally. “Because that’s a two-way street. I’ll talk to her if you want me to, but she trusts you, Tim.”

“How do you know that?”

Nyla’s eyes bounce back and forth like she’s watching a tennis game. She sighs before deciding to interject. “She told her! Sent her a text one night!” she calls out, smiling and waving when Angela and Tim look at her.

Tim nods, giving Angela the closest she’ll get to an apologetic look before leaving.

✯✯✯✯✯

Returning home, Tim is surprised to find you on the couch, in your work clothes, with your face pressed into a pillow. You wave your fingers without moving to acknowledge him, and he remains silent as he walks to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to be silent, it’s your house,” you mumble. “I’ll figure out a way to get to the bedroom.”

“You’re fine here,” Tim answers, setting a glass of water beside you. “Another migraine?”

“Skull fractured from getting my head pushed through a window a few months ago,” you explain with a sigh. “The migraines have gotten worse since then.”

Tim lays a hand on your shoulder, giving you plenty of time to tell him not to touch you. You don’t, relaxing under his touch instead. Tim takes a seat beside you, hoping to comfort you once more.

“Your ex?” Tim asks.

You hum a yes, and Tim’s jaw tightens, even as he comforts you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the police station, Tim’s wallet is tucked safely in your bag. Approaching the front desk, you say your name and are wordlessly handed a visitor’s badge before someone gives you directions. You don’t have time to argue, shrugging as you attempt to remember where to turn. Angela sees you before you see her, rushing to your side and looping her arm with yours.

“What are you doing here?” she asks happily.

“Uh, Tim forgot his wallet. I was just going to drop it off, but they sent me back here,” you answer.

Tim says your name, coming around a corner, and Angela pushes you toward him, joining Nyla as they watch your interaction.

“You know she was trying to get you a girlfriend and not just a roommate, right?”

Tim nods a thanks as he accepts his wallet, glancing over at your audience. “I’m half-tempted to make them think I kicked you out.”

You smile brightly, and Tim licks his lips to keep his smile from mirroring yours. His eyes tell you more than enough, and you’re happy to see him, too.

“Do it,” you whisper. “Just let me know when so I can play my part. Angela told me to call her if you were ever mean to me.”

“Have you?”

You don’t answer, opting to wink at him before stepping back. Waving at Angela and Nyla, you leave the station as they rush to Tim’s side. As they ask overlapping questions and talk about how cute you and Tim look standing together, Tim ignores them before walking away.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim is pulled from his sleep by your panicked yell. He leaves his bed and barges into your room with no thought. His heart rate slows when he sees your teary face and tangled sheets.

“Sorry,” you mutter as you wipe your tears. “I just don’t know how to make them stop.”

Tim sits beside you, opening an arm toward you. It’s a bold move, especially for him, but you take his offer and curl into his side.

“Are- did you mean it when you said I could talk about it?” you ask.

Tim nods, and you tell him more, but not everything. You remind yourself that he’s your roommate and maybe, just maybe, he's your friend, but he’s not here to listen to all of your baggage.

“The last thing he said before I left was, ‘there is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.’”

“You know that wasn’t love,” Tim replies, waiting for your nod before continuing. “And I’ve got your back, Angela and Nyla are right here, and we won’t let anything happen to you. No matter what.”

Drifting back to sleep in his warm, safe embrace, you finally learn what it’s like not to be scared.

When you wake alone, neither you nor Tim acknowledge what happened. You’re okay with slow changes, as long as there are changes.

“Tim,” you say, interrupting him on his way out. “Thank you. For last night.”

“I’m only ever a call away,” he reminds you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your head starts aching around noon, quickly worsening into a full-blown migraine. When you’re ready to go home, it’s bad enough that you can’t drive. Sitting in your car and resting your head against the steering wheel, you want to call Tim but can’t find the strength to move.

Tim, meanwhile, returns home and begins wondering where you are. He calls, and you don’t answer, so he lets his worry control him as he gets back in his truck and drives your usual route. Tim hopes to pass you or find you waiting as someone changes your tire. When he gets to the parking lot of your job and sees you slumped in your car, he has to fight not to panic.

Rushing to the door, he’s both grateful and concerned that it’s unlocked. He kneels beside you, saying your name before bending to see you. Your eyes are tightly closed, but tears are still leaking out.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says.

You whimper as he picks you up, clinging to him until he lays you down in the backseat of his truck, buckling you in as well as possible.

“Hospital can’t help,” you mumble.

Tim wants to argue, but remembers what you said about the skull fracture. You’ve already been to the doctor, so maybe getting you home and comfortable will be enough.

After a nap partially influenced by unbearable pain, you wake to see Tim sitting by your bed.

“Why are you so nice to me? You didn’t even want a roommate,” you mutter sleepily.

Tim smiles, making you think you’re hallucinating. “Yet I got something better.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You don’t quite make it to work the next day. Walking into the station, you’re surprised when Nyla greets you first.

“I’m assuming it’s a joke,” she says.

You furrow your brows in confusion before you see Tim leaning on a desk with his arms crossed while Angela yells at him.

“Unless he really kicked you out,” Nyla adds.

You nod, walking towards Angela and Tim.

“No, you don’t get to blame me! I got you a roommate, a friend, a beautiful woman who could have been more than a friend, and you’re mad at me?” Angela exclaims.

Tim locks eyes with you, not changing his expression as he gauges whether or not her yelling is upsetting you.

“Can I talk to you?” you ask Tim.

Angela steps back, hoping to hear Tim apologize, but he stands up and gestures for you to follow him without speaking. Worried that you’re sick again, Tim waits silently.

“I’m okay,” you promise. “I just wanted to see you.”

Not believing something so simple, Tim shakes his head. “Tell me what happened.”

“I saw a guy who looked like him while I was driving to work. He was yelling at a girl outside of a diner, and it made me nervous.” You keep your eyes on the floor, but Tim gently raises your head.

“You’re not alone, and I know that things still seem uncertain, and probably will for a long time, but you don’t have to be afraid of anything while I’m here.”

“Then why’d you kick me out?” you tease with a pout.

Tim shakes his head, telling you to go before following you out. You wipe an imaginary tear before waving at Angela.

“No, you’re not leaving,” she says, grabbing your shoulders and steering you toward her desk.

Nyla smiles at Tim, and he sighs before following.

“Tell me exactly what happened between you two,” Angela commands.

You look past her before tensing, and Tim immediately catches on. He follows your line of vision and sees Nolan and Celina booking someone. You shrink in on yourself, and Tim moves to block your view.

“Get her out of here,” he tells Angela.

Angela doesn’t wait before obeying, ushering you into the bullpen and out of sight.

“What’s the charge?” Tim asks Celina.

“Assault. Beat up a woman outside a diner,” she answers.

Tim’s jaw tightens at the knowledge that this man made you nervous this morning, reminding you of your ex. He hates abuse in every situation, but when you’re involved, his protectiveness and anger differ. Tim leaves before saying or doing something he’ll regret.

When he finds you in the bullpen, he takes one look at you before hugging you. It’s quick, but Angela and Nyla look at each other in shock.

“So, you’re good?” Nyla asks.

“We were never bad,” you reply. “Just wanted to get back at Angela for trying to set us up.”

“It worked?” Angela inquires excitedly.

“Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Tim repeats, looking over at you. He shrugs as he concedes, “Okay.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Tim gets home, he drops his stuff by the door, raising his arms in question as he looks at you. “Not yet? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You haven’t made a move. How do I know you’re not just protective and caring under that handsome, gruff exterior?” you ask with a shrug.

Tim shakes his head, cupping the back of your head gently as he kisses you. You raise your hands over his chest to hold his jaw, pushing yourself closer as you reciprocate his every move.

“Because I don’t protect just anyone like this,” he says against your lips.

You kiss him again before asking, “Does this mean you can reduce my rent?”

Tim rolls his eyes, tucking you against his side where you’re safe from everything and everyone.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #requests

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skyewritesstuff · 7 months

Text

greedy | p. mellark

my masterlist.

summary: after months of being in what you think is a situationship with peeta, you finally confront him about whether or not there's anything truly there or if you're just another girl who has fallen for his kindness and misinterpreted the signs.

pairing: peeta mellark x reader (college!au, fratboy!peeta if you squint)

fandom: the hunger games

warnings: nothing too serious. implied nsfw at the end. afab reader. sorta ooc peeta...it's mostly environmental because we all know peeta's a flirt.

notes: based on greedy by tate mcrae even though the verse at the end gives me everlark vibes. also, this has been beta read. :)

word count: 2.8k

He’s here. Are you coming?

You looked at the blue and gray text thread, Clove’s name, and contact picture with a little clover emoji sitting right on top of it. A sigh escaped you as you looked up from your phone at the fraternity house that was positioned in front of you. You’d been leaning against the fencing that surrounded the yard for what felt like an hour, but in reality, it’d only been a few minutes.

As of late, facing Peeta Mellark has always been an unpredictable situation. While he was kind, polite, and charismatic, that charisma oftentimes led to him getting entangled metaphorically (at least you hoped) with other girls. You couldn’t tell if he didn’t know how to say no, was weighing out his options, or if he was what Clove often referred to as a “fuckboy”.

Fuck it. You rolled your eyes, stuffed your phone into your jacket pocket, and made your way across the cement walkway leading to the house. Having second thoughts, you pulled your phone back out, pulling up the same conversation with Clove.

Is she here?

The person you were speaking of was none other than Katniss Everdeen. She was the most recent girl that Peeta had been hanging around with and was simultaneously the cause of your latest installment of confusion. According to some of your other friends, she’d been friends with Peeta for a while and the study date you ran up on in the library was nothing but a platonic catch-up amongst busy friends.

However, one Madge Undersee had more than the opposite to say. All it took was one group mirror shot in the bathroom at a nightclub posted on Instagram, featuring you and Peeta in the outskirts of the photo, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, for her to send you a heated DM saying that he and Katniss had been a thing for forever and that you were coming between them.

You very quickly sent back, “Funny how the alleged ‘other girl’ always gets shit while the dude gets to slide by.” with a sarcastically placed upside-down smiley that was left on read still to this day.

A typing bubble appeared in Clove’s thread.

I don’t think so!

You let out another sigh, relieved that for now, Katniss wasn’t a worry. You walked into the house, looking around. There was a cloud of smoke in the air, presumably from various substances and/or a smoke machine, and bright lights coming from various directions. You squinted, trying to make out anyone you knew, but specifically trying to find Clove.

“Hey!” The greeting was slurred, long, and drawn out as an arm was all but dropped onto your shoulders. Finnick Odair was standing beside you, laughing at what appeared to be nothing. Finnick was a grad student that you’d met while waiting in line for coffee, quickly discovering that you two had mutual connections.

“Y/N…Y/N…you look…beautiful, stunning, ravishing…Have you seen Annie?”

You chuckled at how rapidly his thought process changed. “Nope, I just got here! Maybe try calling her?”

“Ha,” he let out, “I don’t…I don’t know her number…”

“But she should be in your… never mind, you’ll find her I’m sure.” you grinned, shaking your head.

“Alright, sweet!” Finnick started to walk away, but then quickly turned on his heel back to you, pointing in your direction.

“Almost forgot…Peeta’s looking for you!”

“What?”

The question was ignored as he walked away, approaching another male at the party the same way he’d approached you. Peeta was looking for you? Was he serious or just on another planet from the amount of alcohol in his system?

You kept maneuvering through the crowd, trying to locate the kitchen, knowing that’s where most of the snacks and drinks were. The kitchen also usually served as a good place to wait around if you were looking for someone.

You pulled out your phone, shooting a text to Clove to meet you in the kitchen. You stared down at the screen, hoping for a speech bubble to pop up saying she was either on her way or giving you simple directions to wherever she was located. You then felt yourself collide with someone in a way that wasn’t painful, but most definitely was going to lead to an awkward exchange.

“Oh shit…I’m so sorry…”

You were met with blonde hair and a black hoodie and then a beautiful set of oh-too-familiar blue eyes.

“Don’t be!” Peeta smiled, “I was looking for you! I sent out Finnick to look for you and everything.”

You rolled your eyes with a smirk, “Well, you might want to find someone sober enough to complete the mission next time, just saying.”

“You are probably absolutely correct…but it’s fine. Why send someone else when it’s something you can do on your own way better, right?” he smiled, leaning on the wall, taking a sip from his cup, “Do you want something to drink?”

“What is that?” you gestured to the cup, raising a curious yet somewhat fearful eyebrow.

Peeta shrugged, “I think it’s some kind of jungle juice. The base has to be Hawaiian Punch because of the color if that helps.” He extended the cup towards you, “Want to see for yourself?”

You nodded and took the cup, taking a sip. It was definitely Hawaiian Punch, and it wasn’t as strong as you thought it would be, which could either be a help or a hindrance.

“Pretty good, right?” he asked. You nodded in response, handing the cup back to him. “Do you want me to get you some of that…or I can try to mix you something myself?”

“Whatever that is, that’s fine.” you answered, following him over to a large orange Gatorade dispenser that had the word “NOT” written on a piece of tape, stuck above the label. You chuckled under your breath as you watched the blonde grab a cup, scoop out some ice, and then fill the drink. As he did this, you took the time to take in his appearance as your brain had been busy keeping up with the conversation instead of taking a good look at him.

He was in a black hoodie with a small logo on the chest; his blonde hair falling into his face a little. He also was wearing gray joggers with his university lanyard sticking out of the pocket, falling onto his leg with a pair of somewhat beaten-up sneakers. Despite his relaxed appearance, he looked put together. He looked good.

Peeta turned back to you, handing you the cup, which you took with a smile. “Do you wanna go somewhere quieter?” he asked, gesturing to the surroundings before refilling his cup.

Your stomach turned with nerves. He probably just meant to talk, but what if he didn't? You knew for a fact that your bra and underwear were not fancy, nor did they match, and you probably had the lowest body count in your friend group. You took a hard swallow.

“...To talk…” Peeta laughed, his tone sounding a little nervous as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and took a sip from his cup. The lights well-hid the red flush on his face.

“Oh…okay, yeah!” you laughed back, watching as he extended his hand. You took his hand, noticing how he immediately laced your fingers together as he walked you through the main hallway that you’d just walked through and up the stairs.

Someone at a distance must’ve seen you both making your way upstairs, because someone wolf-whistled and then called Peeta’s name, causing him to sharply turn over his shoulder to try and identify the person. He quickly stuck his middle finger up at no one in particular, given the culprit was never identified, and then sped up a little as you both got up to the top of the stairs.

“I'm sorry. People are dumb and make ridiculous assumptions…like I’m really not trying to…”

“Peeta, it’s okay.” you reassured him, “If Clove had seen me, she probably would’ve been ten times worse and reminded me of one of her ridiculous tips to supposedly eliminate your gag reflex that she learned on TikTok.”

Peeta somewhat choked on the sip of his drink that he was taking, laughing at your comment, “Who said you couldn’t learn something off of the internet.”

He led you down a shorter hallway to a door. He knocked twice before opening it, finding it just as he must’ve left it, as you quickly put two-and-two together that this was his room. He shut and locked the door behind him, took another sip from his drink, and sat it on his bedside table before flopping on the bed as you leaned against the wall.

You took a big sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol kicked in sooner rather than later to get some control of the nerves that were bubbling up across your entire body. You watched as the blonde turned on his side and looked over at you.

“I'm not gonna bite, sweetheart…unless you’re into that.”

You couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes at his cheesy line before you walked over to sit your drink next to his. Then, you removed your jacket, hanging it from his footrest. Before you could even turn your attention back to him, you could feel his eyes on you. It was like he was bearing a hole into the exposed skin on your back that was left uncovered from your dress now that your denim jacket had been discarded.

When you turned back around, he rolled onto his back with his hands behind his head, smiling up at you. “You’re gorgeous.”

It was spoken so matter-of-factly as if he was telling you the most basic of observations…as if it were obvious to anyone who looked at you. You could feel your chest swell slightly at his words. Your instinct was going to be to tell him to stop or to refute what he said, but you took a breath and let out a small, “Thank you” in response as you sat on the edge of his bed and then slowly inched your way back onto the bed, laying next to him.

The room was silent, aside from the bumping music that was playing behind the door and down the stairs, and your eyes were fixed on the ceiling fan, watching it spin to avoid meeting Peeta’s eyes, fearing the burning blush that would overtake your body if you did.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, breaking that silence.

“Nothing…” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. You weren’t giving your full thought process to anything. Instead, your brain was in several places at once. You’d thought about the makeup tutorial you’d seen earlier set to the song that was playing downstairs. You’d thought about how close Peeta was to you. You’d also thought about Katniss and Peeta’s study “date” from a while back too.

“Baby, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.” he said. You finally glanced over at him. He was on his side, facing you, leaning against one hand while the other played with his hoodie string.

Baby.

Before you could stop yourself, the bigger question tumbled out of your lips, “What’s up with you?”

His features scrunched together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“You take me on dates. You kiss me. You hold my hand. You call me baby.” you paused, “But then, I see you at the library with Katniss Everdeen and I have one of her stupid little friends in my DMs accusing me of being a homewrecker because you have your arm around me in a photo I didn’t even post…and I’ve seen you talking to other girls too, Peeta. You do the same thing, leaning against the wall, standing close to them. You’re smiling and laughing and the girl is playing with her hair and laughing back at you. What is all of that? Am I just the one you know will answer your random texts and calls to hang out…go to the club… make out in your car? Am I some weird escape from reality like…who…”

You were quickly silenced by his lips on yours, one hand coming up to your cheek, pulling you in closer to him. It was almost second nature at this point and your body quickly betrayed you despite your frustrations and melted into the kiss as it deepened, your hand coming to rest on his ribcage, progressively snaking onto his back and then upwards into his blonde locks as he moved over top of you.

The motion of him nudging your leg with his knee so he could position himself knocked you back into reality like a harsh slap to the face. You put both hands onto his chest and applied just enough pressure to jerk him back into the present as well. He looked confused. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and his lips were slightly swollen.

“Did I do something?”

You propped yourself up, causing him to move, rolling back onto his back, his arm dropping across his chest as he rather obviously tried to cool himself down. You sat up, looking down at Peeta, whose eyes met yours.

“You never answered my question.”

“Yes, I did.” He looked at you like you’d missed the most obvious sign in the universe, but you already knew he meant the kiss, and that was not the answer you were looking for.

You shook your head, “A kiss isn’t an answer. If anything, it just proves my point. I don’t understand you. You clearly, in some way, want me. So, what is it? Are you just playing the field…fucking a bunch of random girls…Are you in love with Katniss still?”

“Katniss?” Peeta looked like you’d slapped him clean across his handsome face.

“Yes, Katniss…” You repeated, glancing from him to the door, wondering if it’d just be better to get up and go home. You knew fully well that he’d follow you. There was no getting out of this.

“I get it. You’re hot. You’re nice. I genuinely don’t think you’d try to intentionally hurt anyone, but…”

“That’s it, right there.” He pointed toward you as you spoke, “You talk about me and my mixed signals…what is that? You go from basically saying I’m some piece of shit heartbreaker to saying I’d never hurt anyone. You do that a lot. You’ll go from dancing with me and kissing me…letting me hold you while you’re sleeping to acting completely disinterested in anything outside of a friendship. I’ve never dealt with anything like this before. Girls are usually pretty forward with me…regardless of whether I feel the same or not. I don’t know if it’s intentional…like you think it’ll make me want you more or what, but it’s driving me crazy. Other girls may want me...I don't know for sure, but I know for sure that I want you, not them. I’m trying my best to show you that…but you just keep pushing me away and I wish you’d stop.”

Your eyes dropped to the floor, suddenly hyper-aware of a scuff on the toe of your boots. Your heart pounded as you tried to process what he’d said. He was usually so confident and sure in his abilities to keep sucking you back in, but the wavering tones in his voice indicated otherwise. He was serious.

You turned back to him, “I…I like you a lot…a lot more than just a friend…which is why seeing you with those other girls drove me fucking insane. I want you and for you to only want me. I don’t want to just be some kind of convenience for you. I’m either your girlfriend or nothing at all.”

His lips curved into a smile as your arms crossed over your chest, waiting for a response from the blonde. Peeta sat up and moved in closer to you, his forehead resting against yours, lips inches from your own.

“As you wish, girlfriend.”

His lips were on yours as soon as the title was spoken, moving slowly and sensually. His hand came to your waist as you fell back onto the bed, pulling him down with you as you finally let him move over top of you. The kisses grew needier and more passionate as your hands moved to the hem of his hoodie, pulling it and his white undershirt over his head and allowing for him to toss them behind him.

The articles of clothing caught your jacket, bringing it to the floor as well. Your phone slid out of the pocket as it vibrated, going completely unnoticed next to the clothing.

Where are you?

Hello?

Oh my god, Cato just said he saw you going upstairs with Peeta. Good luck. ;) Remember what I told you about spelling your name. Trust me, works every single time.

#the hunger games #thg #the hunger games fanfiction #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x yn #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark x reader #hunger games x reader #fanfiction #catching fire #mockingjay #josh hutcherson #peeta mellark imagine

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displ3azant · 2 months

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CURRENTLY ASK-ABLE: - Unpleasant - Infected (Plez oversees the questions, though.)

(Before cut is In-Character.)

Hiii! Helloooo!

Hello!!!!!! Hehe, thiz iz actually super weird trying to write an intro-- give me a minute.

So, HIII!!!!!!! I'm Unpleasant! That'z not a joke, that iz literally my name. There'z no "deep reason" behind it, it iz literally just what people refer to me az. But, if that'z too weird, I do also go by Unplez or Plez for short.

Uh, pronounz? I don't really care, actually. I don't have a set gender, I've never really met a gradient who doez. That being said, since I started hanging with Infected I have been called he and she specifically a lot... so if it'z easiest for you, just roll with the crowd.

Right, so... the blog. Thatz thiz blog, haha! Well, the easy answer iz I waz super bored, Infected can suck a huge ####, and I like talking about myself! But... I kind of suck at talking in general, so I guess I'll type and answer questionz about myself.

BUT KNOW MY BOUNDARIEZ BEFORE YOU ASK QUESTIONZ! 👇👇👇

(Below cut is Out-Of-Character.)

To those who know me: Good to see you're still stickin' with me! I promise I will make an effort to make this blog much less of a dumpster fire like the last one.

And to those who are only now coming across this blog: Hello! My name is Hex. You don't have to call me "Mod Hex", or anything, just "Hex" will do. I'm the only guy running this thing here. I'll talk more about myself soon, because oversharing is what I do best.

Blog-Context

So, if it wasn't obvious enough from the intro, this is an ask/rp blog for the Unpleasant Gradient from Regretevator, but specifically in the context of the plez-centric au I have created for him. Or, well, the "AU" in question is actually just some freaky amalgamation of all my fucked up headcanons, which means...

I AM NO LONGER DOING DIRECT BLOG ASSOCIATIONS! Really sorry about that, I love my friends with all my heart but if I wanna keep consistency, I'm gonna have to "write the story" on my own. However, I do want to give full credit to my friends @sk8tr1101 and @party-noob for some major concepts involving Unpleasant, especially Audrey who already has some awesome ideas herself. Go check them both out!

MAIN TAGS:

#unpl3zansw3rz - Asks

#unpl3zrambl3z - Non-ask related posts/reblogs

#unpl3zlor3 - Plot points and similar

#ooc - Out-of-character post

OTHER TAGS (to be updated):

(nothing yet, hehe)

Blog-Owner

So hiiii, I'm Hex. If I can be bothered, out-of-character posts will either have the #ooc tag, be in purple text, or be signed off with my name. I'd prefer if you refer to me using he/it pronouns, thnx!

I'd also like you all to keep in mind I am 17 years old, therefore a minor, and even if I wasn't 17 I do not appreciate NSFW/Explicit jokes towards me, ESPECIALLY if you don't know me. It's one thing when you're my very close friends or my partner, it's another thing when you are a stranger on the internet asking me things I should not have to answer.

My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @geometricgiovanni - a Jeremy ask/rp blog set in the same universe as this one! Please note, however, that in the context of this blog, Unpleasant is not aware of the blog nor would he like to be.

Ask/RP-Boundaries

Let's start off by reiterating that I AM NOT OKAY WITH NSFW/EXPLICIT ASKS IN ANY CAPACITY! Sick of getting them, they're repetitive and annoying. Asking safe-for-work questions involving Unpleasant's anatomy is one thing, but I am not responding to ANYTHING involving genetalia.

ALSO! I am very unlikely to respond to things that is either hard to make a unique drawing for or don't progress the story (unlocking "lore" and such). I'm watching your ass, Mango, I know what you like to do (/lh). Joke asks are still okay, you don't *have* to progress story, but please keep in mind my "criteria" for answering asks when sending them. A clean inbox gives me a clear mind. I do not like notifications.

Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, but I don't care much for romance personally and so will likely not play much into it. Please don't push anything, I guess, and nothing that promotes proshipping or any kind of literally illegal pairing. If you dislike any direction taken ship-wise for this blog, then block me and move on with your day.

Roleplaying: While I'd prefer to not be in direct contact with other rp blogs, I am totally cool with roleplaying side stories and stuff, interactions and such! Please keep in mind though, Unpleasant in this is not a very social person, so you're probably not going to get the reaction you want.

Also! I think OCs are super cool and am happy to respond/interact with them as well! However,

PLEASE DON'T SEND YOUR GRADIENT OCS TO THIS ACCOUNT IF YOU WANT ME TO DRAW THEM! Please instead send them to @hexational! A lot of people were sending me their Gradient ocs to the previous Unpleasant account, and as much as I love seeing Gradient ocs and Gradient sonas, I'd love to be able to draw them, and if you are just asking an opinion on them and not an in-character ask or a genuine question involving other gradients I'd much prefer you send them to the account previously tagged!

That's pretty much all I can think of! Sorry for the long post, I just have a lot to say hehe

Lots of love, - Hex

#unpl3zansw3rz #unpl3zrambl3z #ic #ooc #ask blog #regretevator unpleasant #regretevator ask blog #regretevator infected #unpleasant gradient

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ctrlsugar · 6 months

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BACK BY REQUEST : MY PERSONAL SERVER TEMPLATE.

below is a guide for the channels, as well as tips and tricks for using this template and a few recommendations for bots. ( link & image heavy )

NOTE: this is an outdated template, and is not the server i currently use - if you would like to see an updated version of this ( my roleplay group or 1x1 roleplay servers, or others ), please let me know!!

GET THE SERVER | FREE ( tips appreciated !! )

BOT SUGGESTIONS.

tupperbox ( for proxying your muses for discord roleplay )

writerbot ( for writing sprints, goals & prompts )

reminder ( for reminders / birthday updates )

threadtracker ( for tracking threads on discord )

TIPS.

messletters ( for fancy text )

this entire tag by @dayslily ( for discord tips & tricks )

turn on community for the forum features ( linked to tutorial )

WELCOME CENTER.

ooc : updates / generally in large community servers you can subscribe to get updates sent to you personal server, this is a good place to send them. alternatively, you can utilize webhooks to send your tumblr notifications to your discord server in this channel. ( see tutorial here ).

ooc : emails / i use this channel to keep track of my logins for various tumblr blogs and other websites.

ooc : reminders / using a bot, i set this channel to have reminders for various things, such as personal reminders, roleplay to do list and even character & partner birthdays

ooc : todolist / you could use a bot, or just manually update this channel with your current todolist.

ooc : drafts / i will occasional leave drafts to replies here so i can come back for them at a later point

BOTS.

bot : writing / my preferred bot for this is writer bot - linked above, i use this channel to set/check my goals, set up writing sprints, and occasionally get prompts for writing.

bot : tupperbox / i like to set up all my tuppers in privacy, so i find having my own sever with a channel makes it easy to change my avatar and other tupper information quick and also to test them without spamming a group tupper channel. ( tupperbox - linked above )

bot : reminders / i will often set up a channel for reminders because i'm super forgetful and having a reminder bot helps me get to tasks in a timely manner ( when i remember to set up the bot!! lol ) ( reminder bot - linked above )

bot : tracker / i'm not sure if this tracker has the function to work cross server yet, you'd have to check with the makers on their github, but this is great for 1x1 and group servers. ( thread tracker - linked above )

DEVELOPMENT.

dev : names / a channel to store ideas for muse names, etomology, etc

dev : prompts / a channel to store ask memes, character & writing prompts, etc

dev : inspiration / a channel to store character/muse inspiration, photos, videos, posts, even just a list of words/aesthetics, etc

dev : brainstorm / a place to spitball ideas for new muses and/or plots, i like to utilize the voice message feature here and just talk out my ideas so i can listen back to them later when incorporating them into a new muse.

dev : headcanons / a channel to store headcanons ( if utilizing the community feature, you could make this a forum and separate the headcanons into posts for each muse : see image below for example ).

dev : faces / a channel to store resources for you muse face claims, i would store social media posts, photoshoots, gif set links, etc ( if utilizing the community feature, you could make this a forum and separate the faces into posts for each face claim : see image below for example ).

ROLEPLAY.

rp : masterlist / a channel to host your own character masterlist, you can format this however you like, or even use forums - you could link to other channels in the muse category.

rp : plots / a channel to post links and ideas for plots wanted for muses and roleplay groups.

rp : wishlist / a channel to post roleplay wishlist items, links, ideas, etc

rp : promotions / a channel to post links for roleplay promotions either to your own groups or groups that you'd like to keep an eye on.

rp : groups / i use this channel to store the links to my current roleplay groups, links to the main blog, any relevant sideblogs, as well as a list of muses i currently have active within them.

rp : partners / helpful for storing a list of mains (for indies), with names, pronouns, links to rules, muses, etc - or for 1x1 lists of partners.

RESOURCES.

all of these are pretty self explanatory, you can store resources you use for tumblr and other types of roleplay in these channels, gifs, icons, templates, themes, etc.

ACTIVE MUSES.

muse : name / you can basically store your muse information, biographies, links to blogs, musings, edits, and whatever else you like. ( if utilizing the community feature, you could make this a forum and separate items into posts : see image below for example )

CONNECTIONS.

ship : name • name / similarly to the muse section, you can store your ship dynamic and details here, links to you partner's blog, ship tag, edits, headcanons, etc ( if utilizing the community feature, you could make this a forum and separate items into posts : see image below for example )

#rph #discord rp #server template #discord server template #sugar:template #sugar:discord

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noodlefluid · 2 years

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Rottmnt headcanons about the bois in a relationship

I somehow got really into "rottmnt x reader" and now I can't stop thinking about it, it's slowly consuming my whole life at this point/hj

Btw, english isn't my first language so if I make any grammar mistake let me know

S/O stand for "Significant other", I would be using singular they/them pronouns and third person

Tw: a few curses, besides that is just fluff and fluffy angst, probably OOC

Raphael

He loves being kiss and also knows how to convinced his S/O to giving him smoochies

His main love languages are act of service and quality time, he really likes when he's being helpful, but sometimes overdo it (this may or may have not been a trigger for a discussion)

He loves being little spoon, but he is concious of his size an that iss almost imposible, so most of the time he is the big spoon (if S/O is taller god save their soul cause their gonna have this big boi on top 24/7 /nsx)

Because of his body type and the spikes on his body he's really insecure and afraid of hurting his S/O, so even if he really need hugs, he contain himself as much as posible, he treat them as if they were made of glass

Has a "love stink"

He has a hard time telling his S/O about his weakness cause he wants to be their heroe, and the person they rely on the most

He breaks easily tho, his S/O ask if he's fine and you have a 6 foot turtle crying at their lap for at least an hour, telling how much he loves them and asking how such an amazing person is dating such a useless turtle like him, that he doesn't deserve them yada yada yada (we lub u Raphie, don't talk like that bout urself)

Loves when his S/O is spending time with his brothers, it make him feel like they're e part of his family already, sometimes refers to S/O as sibling-in-law, without noticing "Don't be disrespectful toward your sibling-in-law, Leo!, they could take your joke the wrong way" When he realized what he says his face basicaly match his bandana and hide for the next 2 hours because of the embarassment, Leo obviously tease him and start calling S/O sibling-in-law from that day on

Leo

A completely messy dumbass when it comes to his S/O, his brothers hates you (/pos) cause it's the only thing Leo is talking all day

Smile like an idiot when he sees a text of his S/O, and usually takes a few minutes for him to respond cause he just so excited, he's jumping and giggling to himself (Donnie says he's cringe, Leo says he's bitchless)

His main love language are memes, funny images go brr lmao. Absolutely would tag you on cat posts with an "us"

His second main Love language is words of affirmation, he really like the feeling of making someone feel good just by talking cause he know how it is to not have those words sometimes

Very flirtatious, chessy lines and a lot of dumb compliments, but oh man don't flirt back cause this boy's gonna melt and stop working for the next 5 minutes

He has a "S/O is amazing and this is why" time, when Leo tell everything that is perfect about his S/O, no one know what could trigger it so they're walking on eggshells everytime something slightly remind him of his S/O, he could be having breakfast and just start talking "Oh you're drinking coffee? My S/O love this brand of coffee. Hey have you tasted S/O coffee? They make the most tastiest and amazing ones in the word, and oh! the other they..." and this easily can go for hours until someone beg him to stop

He scroll over every single astrology post with his and his S/O signs in it, would send them to his S/O and talk about how perfect they are, if their sign isn't compatible with his, he would cry and then proceed to automaticaly say that astrology is the dumbest thing in the whole world

Donnie

Even if he usually hates being touchy, he would probably be the total opossite with his s/o, just in alone time tho, he would never let his brothers see him like that weak. This doesn't mean his S/O can touch him whenever he want but he is more recilliant to accept them

He doesn't know how to ask for affection, so he would just akwardly stand around his S/O until they notice him, and hopefully understand what he want

Lots of gifts, his main love language are gifts, it could be small, it could be something big, but gifts is a must for Donnie, even if some of them are a complete failure

His second most prominent love language is quality time, wich translate to "We are sharing a room", He and his S/O aren't even talking or touching, S/O maybe hasn't even notice Donnie's there, but they are spending quality time with eachother

Another way of saying "I love you" is talking about the proyect he's working on, or his last hiperfixation, telling fun facts about the think his S/O likes, you like cats? "Did you know that cats came from egypt? And did you know their purr can decrease anxiety levels" S/O likes Astronomy? "Fun fact: Nasa kinda 'email' tools to astronauts because of 3D printers, really useful don't ya think?" He likes to share their interests and know more about them

He's incredibly observant and attentive towards his S/O, he may struggle with emotions but can tell right away when his S/O isn't feeling good

He have a list of everything his S/O like in alphabetical orden and separated by categories

Most likely develop stims that involved touching his S/O, it could be just a little poke or maybe bite them, he often doesn't realize

Mikey

A lots of cuddles, he doesn't care if his brother are there or not, if his S/O is there he is gonna be glued to them giving them hugs and kisses until they have to go

He make a whole 'reasons why you shouldn't go and instead cuddle with me' presentation to his S/O everytime they have to go

Surprise hugs, their first mistake was being distract, the hug monster Mikey is in a hunt

His love language is physical touch, it doesn't matter if it's a hug or playing with their hair, he has to touch their S/O in someway

If S/O doesn't like being touch, he would always ask for permission everytime he want a hug or just lay in them and try to chill a little by hugging a pillow instead or maybe one of his brothers if they are near

His second love language are gifts, specially drawings, he like to draw his S/O in that amazing outfit they wore the other day, or maybe a little scene of his last date with S/O, then he give it to them

He also loves cooking for his S/O, he thinks that the kitchen is a place where you put all your heart and love for your loved ones. He feel the most happy when he has the opportunity to cook with his S/O

He sometimes goes crazy with the compliments, his S/O can be doing the bare minimun and Mikey would start to shower them in compliment about how amazing they are and how talented they are in the thing they are doing (even if it's just...breath), he sometimes gets his brothers involve "Raph, RAPH! Don't you think S/O is the most amazing person in the word? Look at them, they're so pretty and awesome and and..." Raph was forced to give every compliment he could think of to Mikey's S/O for the next 10 minutes

Usually makes something special every ocassion he's giving, my boy is making made up holydays as an excuse to hang put with his S/O, they now have to celebrate "gravity invention day", it exist now

Go and drink some water bitch, you have being scrolling for way to long

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monochrome-chaos · 6 months

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[Random idea I wanna draw.. Alacai coughing up a splatter of blot. Cause as much as he doesn't realize he does, in fact.. accumulate blot in Twisted Wonderland.]

#[ 'Just send me a text.' - OOC Post ]

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geometricgiovanni · 2 months

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YOU ARE NOW A PRETTY PRINCESS! ✨

This blog contains references to threats and violence. You have been warned.

(hey guys cool sexy man here to tell you first half is in-character, second half under cut is out-of-character)

HELLO! I MADE THIS ACCOUNT OUT OF SPITE OF THAT DISGUSTING THING THAT PLAGUES THIS GOD-FORSAKEN SITE!

NO, DON'T ASK ME ABOUT IT. IF YOU DO, I WILL CRUSH YOU! LETHALLY. You will feel pain. also he blocked me on all 8 of my accounts so um, y'know........

ASK ME THINGS! ASK ME TO DESCRIBE IN EXCRUCIATING DETAIL ASPECTS OF MY LIFE! ASK ME TO DO OBSCURE ACTIVIES THAT WOULD SEVER MY LIMBS IF I HAD ANY!

So here's some info in a similar format to my other blog, some things, such as boundaries, will be copied and pasted:

Blog Information✨

This is an ask/rp blog for Jeremy from regretevator, specifically the Jeremy referenced in @displ3azant. I might use this blog to more freely talk about my specific headcanons about characters from the perspective of an outsider, so that account is likely the only specific one referenced on this blog.

Jeremy in this blog uses he/any!

MAIN TAGS:

#geometric asks - Asks

#geometric posts - Non-ask related posts/reblogs

#ooc - Out-of-character post

BLOG OWNER 🔥

Hello! I am Hex! Yes, you will see me talking to myself! No, do not comment on it. Please refer to me using he/him or it/its pronouns.

My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @displ3azant - afformentioned Unpleasant rp blog

I'll try to respond to most asks with a drawing of some variety, and if it's something I can use to reveal little ass-shit and bull-dumps about my version of Jeremy.

Please note, however, I am not just one singular guy but also a senior who should really be spending his free time studying, so sometimes I will just give a text response.

Also to note: I am 17 years old, therefore a minor! Even if I was not a minor, I am still not comfortable with weird shit! Keep it in your fucking pants, asshole! Apologies if I sound rude, but holy shit the only blog gets SO many weird asks! I will just be blocking and ignoring any freaky anons, apologies if you are my friend trying to mess with me, but I genuinely cannot take any more risks.

Boundaries ✨

NSFW content: NSFW CONTENT IS NOT ALLOWED. I am a minor. Thx. Also, "suggestive" jokes are very selectively okay. Basically, if it makes me uncomfortable or is literally disgusting, it will be ignored and likely deleted, and I will probably make fun of you.

Roleplaying: I am totally okay with roleplaying and sending/responding to asks in character!

(ps: i'm also happy to rp with other regretevator ocs too, i think those r super duper cool)

That's all, really.

your mortal enemy,

-Hex

#regretevator jeremy #ask blog #ask/rp blog #regretevator ask blog #regretevator #geometric asks #geometric posts #ooc

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gatheredfates · 25 days

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Good morning all, happy Sunday! 🌸 I am pleased to announce there are a couple of resources added to Sea's Community Compendium for XIV Creatives. A huge thank you to some of the members in SEAFLOOR who helped in their sourcing!

As of today (05/19), you can find the following new additions:

LORE

Hingan Alphabet — Compiled and translated by @forever-halone, this guide assists in the understanding of the Hingan alphabet as a derivative of Hiragana and how it can be used for Far Eastern characters.

MISC

A Fisher's Guide to Eorzea — An absolutely massive guide on how to catch every single fish in Eorzea (and beyond!), created by @fisherfruity.

Fonts Of Etheirys — Created by bulletbill4l on Reddit, this font transforms your text into its Eorzean or Hingan equivalent, depending on what language you use!

Want to submit? You can either fill out the google form here, send me an ask with the relevant information contained on the Compendium, or join my Discord at SEAFLOOR (21+ only)! If you'd like more information about my server, you can click through to this handy-dandy post.

Is my space suitable for the Compendium? Most of the time, yes! Below the read more is some more information/stipulations. Again, all accessible on the document! 🌻

Below are the following things I do not accept on the Compendium:

Personal/Single-Character LFC ads.

Content intended for or can be used for bullying, harassment and OOC gossip. E.g. ‘Secrets’ blogs, receipts, callout posts, etc. This does not include in-character tabloid blogs used to generate RP.

Communities that do not have an RP/writing element (large-scale exempt).

Anything I find personally distasteful or goes against the spirit of this project.

Common-sense rule applies.

FAQ.

I want to put my community on the compendium but we have an application process. Is this okay?

Yes! Just note somewhere in your application that's a requirement. The only thing that is mandatory for the Compendium is that you must be open to new members or have a public-facing/accessible facet. There's no point advertising a community if no one can join it in some way!

I want to put my community on the compendium but I only have x number of members —

Also totally okay! People don't start with large communities. Activity is a must but, whether your server has two or two thousand members, if you're looking for new people to join, I'd love to help you find people.

I want to put my community on the compendium but I worry its too niche?

Okay, and? If your Eorzean Fishing Alliance has four members but you roleplay every second weekend, I still want to know about it.

What resources/communities can I add if I'm not the owner of them?

Mutual consent is extremely important to me, so anything that isn't a large-scale community OR a publicly accessible resource must be endorsed by the owner/admin/moderators in order to be added to the compendium. I operate under the assumption that a resource posted to a public space (tumblr, googledocs, youtube, etc) is open to all. A large-scale community is one with a significant member count or openly advertises itself as being accessible to everyone for whatever purpose it serves. If in doubt, please get in touch with me. I'm happy to contact your community owners for you!

How active does a community need to be?

If you find a community has not been active in about two/three months, send me a message and I'll take a look at it. Communities have ebbs and flows, especially event spaces that may take hiatuses depending on member interest/life events. I'm not strict in my implementation provided a space isn't dead. If a link or anything is broken, absolutely contact me about that.

I have [insert a question not stated here]?

No drama! Send me an ask or use the #Compendium channel in my Discord!

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #ffxiv community #｡･ﾟﾟ･ — sea's community compendium #｡･ﾟﾟ･ — sea speaks

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fictionallystable · 4 months

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Rating: Mature

Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games)

Relationship: Phillip Graves (Call of Duty)/Reader

Characters: Reader, Phillip Graves (Call of Duty), Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags: Author Has Played Call of Duty, Childhood Friends, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, slight age gap, Civilian!Reader, Pre-Canon, Jealousy, Angst, Kissing, Time Skips, Slight OOC Graves, Brother's Best Friend.

Words: 1,348 | Chapters: 1/5

Summary:

Your older brother is best friends with Phillip Graves, and you always tagged along on their adventures. As a teen, you hid a fervent crush on Phillip, but it ends in painful heartbreak for you after one tumultuous summer. Many years later, you and Phillip are shocked to re-encounter one another, this time with your hearts fluttering again. But the heartache and broken trust of the past cloud your vision of the man standing in front of you.

A/N: this is a long time coming collab between me and @orphancains, and we finally posted the first chapter. stay tuned for later chapters. can't promise we'll be posting all the chapter each week but we'll try to get it out soon as possible. that being said, enjoy. the fic can also be found on AO3

tags will be updated!!

Chapter 1: The Pool

You ignored the bead sweat trickling down your temple from sitting under the Texas summer sun. There were only a few weeks left of summer break before 7th grade, and you were trying to enjoy it at the park, despite the sun beating down on you. Even your older brother Matty and Phil had wanted to enjoy the day even if they’d both already graduated high school. The two played some light basketball while you sat nearby sketching. After playing for a while, the two of them strode over to you, checking in on you as you quietly concentrated in your sketchbook.

“I don’t know,” you said to them both as you stared down at your sketch, “I don’t know if it’s worth submitting.”

Phil tsked and took a seat beside you on the grass. He patted your shoulder and furrowed his brow. “Come on. You’re probably one of the best artists I know out of everyone in this city. You’re twelve but you’re better than some of the people in school I know who always brag about their art. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Matty sighed behind both of you. “It’s that our dad has been hounding her about focusing more on math next year. He wants her to be studying with a tutor for her pre-algebra class for this summer instead of this.” Your brother glanced away. “Or make friends…” he muttered quietly, but just enough for Phil to still hear.

Phil rolled his eyes. He was grateful to your dad for letting him linger in his home to hang out with Matty. The Graves family household, a few miles away from yours, was a little bigger, sure. But it was empty. With his parents always gone, his dad was either sending him texts from airports to check in on him every few days and his mom would mainly call him to say she couldn’t attend his football games and track meets because of another work conference. Matty and your parents were kind enough to feed him and sometimes let him sleep over. But he couldn’t help but want to sometimes roll his eyes at how much pressure he put on you and your brother.

“How is submitting a piece of art to a newspaper going to hurt her in pre-alegbra?” Phil looked at your brother unamused. “I don’t wanna be a dick, Matty, but your dad’s a—”

“I know, Phil,” your brother huffed. “You’ve told me before”

“It’s actually an art magazine. It’s MUSE magazine,” you cut in, wanting to stop talking about your dad. “They even said they’ll give us a scholarship, too, if we win. I mean, that’s gotta make dad happy, right?”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, as he listened to you. He thought about it and shot you a grin hoping it would cheer you up. He couldn’t help but want to see you happy, wanting to see you get the praise and love for your art that you truly deserved. “See?” He glanced quickly at Matty before turning back to you to say, “Yeah, exactly! That’s even more of a reason to submit— even if my advice alone should be enough.” At that, your brother snorted.

At this you turned to look at him, your lips pouting slightly. You still felt unsure about your idea, and he noticed.

“Listen, as soon as you hear back from that magazine, I wanna be the first to hear about it, you understand?”

You nodded and gave him a small smile. “I will, but what if I lo—”

“Not, gonna happen. I know it won’t,” he stated firmly, as his warm eyes beamed down at you.

Your smile grew more as you leaned your shoulder against his arm. “Thanks, Phil.”

‘ Holyshit… ’ , you thought to yourself as you ran toward the Graves’ home one afternoon. Your parents always reprimanded you for swearing but who cares right now . You clutched tightly onto the new copy of MUSE magazine as your feet hit the pavement. ‘ I actually won !’ You hadn’t bothered to tell Matty or your parents. You wanted to tell Phil first, but he hadn’t come over to visit Matty today—usually Fridays were when they played video games together. You thought it was weird initially but thought nothing of it.

You knocked on the heavy, wooden door, pressed the doorbell multiple times, but he never came to the door. You were confused. ‘ Maybe he’s out back ? ’ , you thought as you trudged over to his backyard’s fence. You were surprised to see it was left slightly ajar, when usually you and Matty always had to wait for Phil to unlock it if you decided to visit his home. Slowly, you nudged the gated fence door open, expecting to see nothing more than the Graves family’s pool, some towering, old trees, and maybe some overgrown grass. But instead your jaw dropped.

By the shining blue pool, Phil had another girl’s hands entangled in his light brown hair. At first you were confused, but you felt your chest tightened when you realized his lips were moving against hers and that his own hands rested on her hips. He was shirtless, his body still drenched in the cool pool water and she wore a light pink bikini. Her own dark red hair was also wet clung to the skin on her pale shoulders. That’s when it hit you: Phil had a girlfriend you didn’t know about, and you’d just walked in on them making out.

You felt your heart stop when from over the girl’s shoulder, you saw Graves’ dark eyes flicker and briefly meet your own. You let out a small gasp, your eyes shifting away quickly. You quickly turned away and your hands clenched tightly around the magazine in your hand, not caring anymore if your artwork featured in it was crushed now. You felt your stomach jolt as you ran back home, fearing you were going to vomit midday in the middle of the street. The red hair. Phil shirtless. The pool. His hands on her hips. The shadows in his eyes. Was that a smirk you saw? Or had you imagined it? It all kept flashing in your head as you jogged back home. You felt like your own brain was torturing you with the images now.

Back home, as you strode toward your room, your throat tightened. Your lips quivered and you felt the few tears still clinging to your eyes begin to slip through. Matty walked out of his room, about to ask you where you were, when he saw the distress etched on your face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

You clenched your teeth as you felt the tears begin to flow freely now down your cheeks. You stepped into your room, but turned around to face him. “Nothing’s wrong!” you growled out, before shutting the door loudly in his face and twisting its lock.

As night fell, you clung tightly to your pillow, your tears staining it as you cried. Your brother continued knocking on the door from time to time, calling your name out in frustration. But no matter what, he couldn’t coax you out of your room. You also didn’t know why you wouldn’t let Matty in. You didn’t even know why your heart broke so much when you saw Phil and that other girl. But from then on, your view of Phil had changed. You didn’t want to face him anymore, to be his brother’s stupid kid sister always lingering around because she had no friends of her own. You were a burden on him. He probably just wanted to hang out with Matty, not you. You wondered, how many times did he want to talk to him about girls or sex, or anything else, and he couldn’t because you were there?

As you drifted off to sleep, eyes puffy from salty tears, you forgot about the crumpled magazine laying on the ground. Your thoughts only revolved around one idea: You were going to do Phil a favor and avoid him at all costs.

#cod x reader #phillip graves x reader #cod fanfic #phillip graves fanfic #phillip graves x you #phil graves x you #phil graves x reader #graves x reader #Authors Has Played Call of Duty

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s4toryuu · 4 months

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it’s okay — gojo satoru

two weeks after suguru’s death, you come home to to your apartment and to your surprise, your boyfriend.

notes: hurt and comfort, post jjk0, established relationship, angst, ooc!gojo (you’ll see), sorry in advance, based off when gege said gojo had many breakdowns after jjk0

just like everyone, when you first met satoru back when you were first years, he was insufferable. however, you being you, you concluded that it would only be common sense that his title of being the strongest made a not-so-positive impact on his psyche. so you were forgiving.

you secretly made it one of four years’ mission to get the one and only gojo satoru to open up and drop the cocky act. but even when amanai riko, the girl he grew fond of in your third year, was assassinated, he barely budged. he said he barely knew her. not to say he wasn’t phased by it, but every time it would come up he would find a way to lighten the mood like he always has.

this was when you confirmed your belief about his damaged psyche. when they were in okinawa, satoru had texted you and shoko about riko and how you would love her and how riko would love shoko and utahime. he told you about the beach and the aquarium, and later geto told you about how satoru stayed up all the nights to keep guard. he cared about amanai, so his reaction couldn’t have been completely truthful.

you two still weren’t the closest then, but you just couldn’t let it go. awkwardly a couple of weeks after the girl’s death, you approach satoru after you finished a quick duo mission. “goj—satoru,” you start, mistaking his family name. he looks to you from the vending machine. “you know, it’s okay to be sad about it.” your voice gets quieter from the bench you sat at.

“huh? about what?” gojo sits next to you, handing you your drink of choice. “oh. yeah, I know.” he opens his coke. “but ‘ya know. it is what it is—that brat is probably in a better place anyway.” he shrugged and sat limp beside you with his arm behind your back, resting on the wood.

“satoru, it’s okay.” he took a big inhale and you fiddled with the drink in your hand.

“did suguru send you or something? or you being sweet for something else?” he looked to the side through his glasses. “it’s nothing to me now. plus, I learned a lot from it anyway.”

then, a year later, he barely talked about it when suguru defected. you figured you just weren’t close enough. when you started dating a year after that, the first thing you talked to him about was how it was okay to be sad even if it meant being weak in his eyes.

however, in the next 9 years, you’ve never caught him being more than just quiet or reserved when he was feeling down. even then, it wasn’t complete because he was always making annoying remarks. so you set that mission aside to be ready if the time ever comes, but decided not to hold your breath.

sometime in that time frame, you slowly notice satoru letting his guard down to you more and more during challenging times. upsetting or sad times were extremely rare, but that just made you treasure and observe them more carefully. you think it’s just satoru maturing as well. you used to joke that satoru being genuinely really sad was just as rare as his six eyes and infinity combo.

most of the times were because of his (and yours, kinda) adopted son/little brother/student/nephew/beneficiary/“brat with crazy potential”/“the future” named fushiguro megumi not playing along to his antics. the worst was when the pre-teen lashed out at satoru for “acting too much like my dad.”

that was the first time you saw satoru genuinely upset. he had asked (interrogated) megumi about his new middle school, to which the angsty kid, stressed with the new environment, who wanted to be left alone, snapped. satoru has opened up to you that night.

two weeks ago, satoru killed his best friend. you were guarding inside the school, especially because of the new student. when you had heard the news, all you thought about was satoru. it had been almost ten years that you talked to suguru, and honestly while you couldn’t blame him for his crimes, it was hard to look at him the same.

the first week after that, satoru was perfectly normal. the start of the week after was the same, so you figured he might’ve not been as affected as you thought. however, you couldn’t accept that he was just okay with permanently losing his self-proclaimed “other half.”

so when you come home after a full day’s worth of errands and hear deep shaky breaths from your bathroom, you think you’re mistaken. that part of you you set aside shivered at the thought that you were correct; that satoru bottled these big feelings to release them alone.

“satoru?” you called softly before slipping off your shoes. the door to the bathroom was open. as you started your way towards it the faucet started running, followed by water splashing against a face you now studied as you leaned against the doorframe.

“hey! you’re home early!” satoru smiled at you, face wet. he made no effort to stop the droplets from running down his chin, to his neck, and eventually to his sweater.

“so are you, toru. is everything okay?” you shifted your weight and he turned the water off. you swear you felt your brain flex at you struggling to decide how to approach this.

you swear he was just crying. will you make him uncomfortable if you pry? no, you don’t want to pry anyway. he was forced to kill his best friend just less than two weeks ago. it had only been you, shoko and satoru since suguru had first defected, but despite the time, satoru had always talked to you about suguru coming back somehow.

“yep. yaga let me come home early. I might take him up on that break offer, honestly.” satoru watched himself in the mirror, smile slowly fading. you grab a towel from a cabinet and have your boyfriend face you.

“that’s good. your students won’t mind. they understand—we all understand.” gently, you reach up to dry his face. to your surprise, you got stuck just in front of his nose. he still had his infinity on. you waited for him to realize, as he zoned out looking down at you.

satoru sighed softly and he closed his eyes. “shit, sorry. I’m distracted.” he rubbed his forehead and you wiped his face.

“it’s okay.” you tiptoed to kiss his temple and he bent down to reach around your waist. you hugged for a good ten seconds, feeling his chin on your shoulder.

“wanna take a nap?” you asked in an almost whisper. satoru nodded on your shoulder. “I’ll wash up first.” satoru hums and lets you go. really, you just wanted to hug him. you weren’t tired at all, but knowing satoru he would only rest like this if you were there to encourage it.

you dressed in a matching crewneck and shorts and walked to satoru, who was already on the verge of sleep in your bed. usually, when he felt your weight on the mattress he would lay his arm out for you to lay against his chest. instead, satoru let you lay down and just hugged you from your side.

he closed his eyes and sighed. he called your name and you moved your arm to let him lay against you. “I’m just distracted. I’ll save that vacation for another time.” he said, seemingly out of nowhere.

“baby it’s a break, not a vacation. I think you should take it. I can stay home with you if you want—”

“it won’t do anything anyway.” your boyfriend snuggled into you and rubs his face under your shoulder. you two laid in silence and after a couple of beats you speak up.

“I miss him too y’know.” you say, just above a whisper. you adjusted to put your arm under his head and turn yourself to face him. he nods his face into your neck.

satoru breathes in deeply and holds it in his chest. he releases it shakily. he doesn’t inhale until a couple beats and then he holds it and shakily releases it again. you rest your chin on the crown of his head, met with the comforting scent of his haircare. you think of what to say next, but gave up to hold satoru tighter.

“he’s gone now. because of me.” satoru whispers. your heart shatters and you freeze. suddenly all the memories of you, shoko, satoru and suguru from high school flows into your brain. you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. you wrap your hand around his head to bring him closer—an attempt to somehow share this burden.

you feel satoru swallow and he sighs. his breathing gets deeper with each breath, and you notice them getting more hasty. your heart sank to your stomach.

“satoru…” you start. he curls into you, knees shifting up against your thigh and finally, the tension breaks.

satoru sobs. he hugs you tighter and you feel tears welling up in your own eyes.

your mind went blank. you knew there was nothing you could say to comfort your boyfriend. this was the first time you’ve seen him cry in thirteen years. you felt as if your heart was squeezed. satoru was sobbing against your neck and you wanted nothing but to at least take some of his pain.

you listened to satoru sob and you closed your eyes. you held him, hoping the pressure comforts him. it was difficult as he’s almost twice your size, but nothing else felt right.

you knew satoru wasn’t only referring to killing suguru two weeks ago. he had told you how he was too weak to plead his best friend ten years ago to stay—that the two of them could make this all right. that the two of them could’ve corrected the system. he believed he could’ve prevented everything if only he was strong enough to do something so mundane compared to his battles. why couldn’t he have just… spoke?

satoru’s sobs leveled off. he went back to hasty breathing. you felt his tears on your pillow now and shoulder, but you couldn’t care less. all you wanted was for satoru to stop carrying his pain alone.

you kiss the top of his head and your own tears start to flow. “it’s okay, satoru.”

after a moment he pulls away from you and sits up, looking down at his lap. you stared at his slumped shoulders and he tried to steady his breathing. you sat up too and scooted up to turn your body to face him.

you held your hand to his cheek. he looked at you and looked back down. “it’s okay.”

he let out a shaky breath and you wiped his tears. his face was warm to the touch. he started a word, but he sighed and shook his head. you leaned in and hugged him. it was more for you than for him.

to say this broke your heart was too much of an understatement. you wondered how many times he’d cried alone. just because he was pinned to be “the strongest.” the title leaked into his life outside of his power. for a second you hated the world. you hated everyone at the school; yaga, shoko, nanami… your head felt hot with rage at how they could let that happen— how they could let satoru bear so much alone.

satoru looks down when you pull away, hiding his face. your hands rest on his shoulders and you kiss the top of his head again. “it’s okay.”

he coughs twice. you get up to get him a glass of water and he finishes it in three gulps.

“do you want to talk about it?”

satoru swallows and sighs outward. “I had to review the report. And testify as a witness. Yaga came and they let me off easy.” you sit down at the edge of the bed to listen.

“I just—“ he stutters. “that’s it.” you’re glad he’s calmed down. he finally looks up at you, still struggling to hold eye contact. it must feel weird for him to cry in front of you. his eyes were wet and red, along with his nose. his brows furrowed and he looks down again.

“I’m really sorry you had to relive that. those higher ups don’t understand your relationship. but it’s okay to think about it once in a while—and mourn.” you tell him.

“yeah…I know, it’s just hard.” he sniffled.

“I know.” you sigh. you pat his head and he rests it on your shoulder. you hug him again. the two of you make your way back to your previous position laying down, and you flipped your pillow. satoru scoffs amusingly, after which you expected a clever remark to come but it doesn’t.

“could you…” he hesitates.

“yeah?”

“could you… stay tomorrow?” satoru huffs into your shoulder.

“of course.”

reblog to give gojo a hug :(

m.list

#𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘶𝘶’𝘴 #gojo satoru #angst #hurt/comfort #fluff #geto suguru #jjk x reader #im brocken #my soul actually hurts #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk drabbles #not proofread (well)

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