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#But that's alright because I had fun writing this
ellecdc · 3 days
Note
Hiii :) I saw your requests tips and saw that you didn't write for dub/non con and I don't know if this count as one so just feel free to not respond!
So reader is in a relationship with the Marauders and is starting to randomly think about a past SA and realise this was SA only now bc her brain has been blocking the memory and information. She tells the boys (and maybe Barty idk) about it after sometime of overthinking it and self blaming so it's just like super fluff at the end <3
(it's my personal experience but if you don't feel comfortable writing about it just feel free to ignore it :). Sorry for the bad orthograph english isn't my first language 🫶🏻)
first of all - your English is fucking fantastic (and you know more words than I do - I had to look up what an orthograph was) secondly, I turned this into more of a conversation between reader and her ship. and for plot purposes this became poly!wolfstar - hope that's okay!
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who opens up about past SA
CW: discusses themes of sexual consent, inebriation, and SA. Describes past SA and abusive relationships. Describes drunkeness, alcohol, and drinking. viewer discretion is advised.
You could tell it was taking Sirius a lot of effort to appear to be too fussed over Lily, James, and Regulus at the end of the party, but he pretended to gag every time anything even remotely romantic or sexual was brought up about his brother.
“What do you think happens when they go home, Pads?” Remus muttered quietly, causing Sirius to slap his hands against his ears.
“Would you shut up, Moons? I am not interested in hearing about my brother’s sexual habits, thank you.”
Unfortunately for Sirius, Lily didn’t get the memo. 
“Are we le-leaving!?” She shrieked through a hiccup as James held most of her weight up against his side and Regulus gathered her purse and shoes she’d since lost.
“Yes sweets; we’re gonna get you to bed.” James said quietly.
A salacious smirk took over Lily’s face as she tried (and failed) to grab James by the chin. “To bed, hm?”
Regulus snorted, though no one missed the blush that dusted his cheeks. “To sleep, Lils.”
Lily groaned dramatically and seemed to go ‘no bones’ in James' grip as he grunted and tried to keep her from hitting the ground. “Why not.”
“Because you smell like you bathed in a bottle of schnapps, sweetheart.” James placated.
“So?” Lily grumbled though acquiesced to helping James keep her up right. “We can even do that thing you like.” She tried to sing sensually, but her efforts were in vain as every other word came out slurred. 
Sirius grumbled causing James to blush. 
“Not tonight, angel. We’ll cuddle, okay?”
Lily scoffed and turned her sights onto Regulus. “You agree with me, right? Right Reggie? You agree- you agree with me?”
“Almost always.” Regulus agreed quickly, offering Lily his arm as to share her weight with James. “Just not tonight, my love.”
“You guys are no fun.” Lily whined as she allowed her two boyfriends to usher her out of Remus and Sirius’ shared flat.
Unfortunately for Sirius, no one missed Regulus leaning into Lily’s hair and promising that “they’d have lots of fun tomorrow to make up for it.”
“I hate them all.” Sirius grumbled with no real malice as he stood and made his way over to you before offering you both of his hands. “What do you say, dollface? Ready for bed too?”
Remus answered ‘yes’ as you accepted Sirius’ help up which sparked a debate between the two of them whether or not Remus could be considered ‘dollface’ to which you secretly agreed that yes he could but ultimately refused to participate in such nonsense.
You got ready for bed in a haze as you replayed Regulus, James, and Lily’s conversation in your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you were so stuck on, but something about the exchange caused something deep within your gut to churn unpleasantly. 
“You feeling alright, dovey?” Remus asked gently, pressing a kiss to your hairline as you reentered their bedroom after washing your face, carrying your toiletries with you so as not to hog the bathroom.
Sirius (and Remus) had been begging you to spend your nights here with them nearly since the very beginning of your relationship, but you argued that you did not want to pay rent for a flat you never saw. 
He then started nagging you to give up the lease on your flat and just “sodding move in with them already”, but it still felt a little too fresh for that.
So, you spent most nights (but not all) at their flat; living out of duffle bags and toiletry bags.
You hummed in confirmation to Remus’ question, moving towards the mirror above Sirius’ dresser to finish your skincare routine as Remus took his turn with the washroom.
“You sure, sweetness? You’ve been awfully quiet tonight; did you have fun?” Sirius continued as he went digging through what you knew to be Remus’ drawers searching for Sirius’ favourite shirt which was really Remus’ shirt but no one bothered to argue with the black-haired boy…anymore.
“I had fun.” You agreed, massaging product into your face.
“Uh huh.” Sirius commented, not sounding at all convinced as he came up behind you and hooked his chin over your shoulder; watching as you completed your nightly routine through the mirror. “You had so much fun and that’s why you look like Moony when he can’t figure out one of those crosswords in the Daily Prophet?”
You chuckled softly, but something in your lack of enthusiasm (or your lack of disdain) for his joke seemed to tip him off. 
“What’s going on in here, hm?” He asked as he pressed a kiss to your temple. 
“I just…” You started, sighing as you made yourself busy by tidying up your belongings and refusing to make eye contact with him. “I’ve just been thinking about Reg, James, and Lily’s conversation.”
That caused a dramatic groan to rip through Sirius’ chest as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder.
“What now?” Remus asked jokingly as he returned from the washroom. 
“She’s thinking about Regulus, James, and Lily in bed.” Sirius accused; voice muffled in the fabric of your sleepwear. 
You scoffed defensively, claiming you were “absolutely not” at the same time Remus commented “aren’t we all” which started a very loud bickering match between your two boyfriends. 
The arguing only ceased when Remus “swore on his mother’s life” that Sirius was “by far the superior Black brother.” 
Placated, Sirius turned his sights back to you as you sat on the edge of the bed. “So, what were you really thinking about their conversation?”
Remus, having walked in with only enough time to rile Sirius up, popped his head up at that. “Everything alright, dove?”
You sighed as you turned to face them. “I was just confused, I guess.” You admitted. “I think…Lily was hoping to have sex tonight?”
Sirius groaned again which earned him a swat from Remus who seemed to pick up on some of the tension radiating through your body.
“Yes…I’d agree.” Remus responded carefully.
“And Reg and James said no?”
Sirius’ head tilted at that as he considered you with furrowed brows. “Well, of course, doll. She was drunk.” He said simply, as if that explained it all. 
“So…they wouldn’t have sex with her because she was drunk?” You clarified.
The boys shared a glance with one another before they each took a seat on the bed, prompting you to turn your body so you were all facing each other.
“So, all parties have to be able to consent, right?” Remus started. 
You nodded quickly at that. 
“But when one party is inebriated or under the influence, they can’t consent.” Sirius continued.
You felt your eyebrows twitch as you looked down at the pattern on your bed spread. “Even though she was asking?”
“She wasn’t in her right mind, dove.” Remus explained gently; eyes full of compassion and, perhaps, some sadness. “She may have woken up tomorrow and not remembered anything, or perhaps worse, regretted something. It’s Regulus and James’ jobs to keep her safe, just like I’m sure she keeps them safe when the roles are reversed.”
And now you could understand why their conversation seemed to catch you so off guard. 
“You’re so pretty like this; drunk and all mine.”
“Have a few more; we always have more fun when you let loose.”
“But…I’m really tired.” “All you’ve got to do is lay there - I’ll do all the work.”
“You don’t remember last night? That’s too bad; I won’t be forgetting that any time soon.”
“You’re such a good little whore for me when you’ve had a few too many.” 
You hadn’t realised you had zoned out of the conversation until Sirius was leaning into your field of vision. “You okay, sweets?”
“Yeah.” You said breathlessly before clearing your throat. “No, sorry. I’m fine.”
“Why were you asking?” Remus queried; tone hardening slightly, alerting you to the fact that he smelled trouble. 
“I was just wondering.” You fibbed.
“You know we would do the same, right?” Sirius asked earnestly. “That we have done the same for you.”
“You have?”
“Yes, my love.” Remus whispered. “Always.”
You nodded and looked back down at the bedspread. “Okay.”
“Y/N.” Sirius called with a certain level of severity; though you detected no anger or frustration in his tone. “Why were you asking?” He repeated Remus’ earlier question after your gaze met his imploring silver eyes. 
You quickly looked down at your hands as you began picking at the hangnails around your fingers. “I was just confused; that has not always been my experience.” You admitted quietly; shame coursing through your body as you digested this new information.
The room was quiet for a moment as Remus shuffled scrupulously closer to you. “No?” He whispered; voice intoned with a level of gentleness you weren’t accustomed to hearing. 
You began to feel all sorts of discomfort at the heavy attention being focused on you in the room. “It was usually quite the opposite.” You joked; voice rising to a higher octave in an attempt to make light of the situation as you pulled back the covers and made to retreat to the relative safety of the boys’ bed. 
“Whoa, whoa. What does that mean?” Sirius implored, earning him a gentle warning “Pads” from Remus.
“I’m sorry.” You placated, still uncomfortable with this heavy atmosphere you seem to have blanketed over what had been a really nice evening. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, I-” Sirius began, cutting himself off and taking a breath you could tell was an attempt to calm himself down. He shuffled closer to you and wrapped his hand around one of your ankles through the blanket as he rubbed soothing circles against it. “You can always talk about anything with us; it’s important that we talk about these things, yeah?”
“Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” Remus mollified. “But I do agree with Sirius; if you’re comfortable, I think it’s good for us to talk about these things.” 
“It was just my last relationship.” You admitted finally. “He didn’t…agree - with the consent thing, that is.”
Remus’ lips pursed as Sirius’ jaw tightened. 
“He’d sleep with you when you were drunk?” Remus asked cautiously. 
“Yeah.” You agreed half-heartedly, picking at your nail beds. “Or encourage me to drink more so…”
Remus let out a sigh and you could tell Sirius was fighting back the urge to grumble. 
“I’m sorry,” You offered again. “I really didn’t mean to bring all this up, I just-”
“I really, really don’t want you to apologise anymore.” Sirius nearly begged. 
“I don’t understand how someone could do that.” Remus mused aloud. “To anyone; and someone they claimed to love?”
You mistook Remus’ rhetorical question for an actual need for clarification. “He said I was more fun; that I’d try things I wouldn’t normally.”
Sirius did finally let out an angry huff and his fingers stilled on your ankle. “Who?”
“You don’t know him.” You countered quickly, bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as you rested your chin on your knees. 
“Lucky him.” Sirius muttered darkly as Remus shifted closer to you. 
“I’m sorry dove.” He offered quietly; holding out his hand to you in a silent invitation. You accepted it, and as you gave him your hand, he gently encouraged you over to him until you were cradled in his arms.
“I didn’t tell you to be sorry.” You murmured quietly as Remus began pressing kisses to the raw and reddened skin around your fingers you hadn’t realised you had nearly shredded in your tension. 
“I know you didn’t.” He whispered. “I’m still sorry, anyhow.”
“I think it’s nice… that the boys were looking after Lily.”
Remus hummed in agreement though he still looked particularly disturbed.  
“That’s their job.” Sirius supplied, causing you and Remus to turn your heads towards your boyfriend whose eyes were red and shining with unshed tears.
“Sirius.” You murmured miserably.
“Just like it’s our job to look after you.” He continued as if you hadn’t said anything at all.
“And you do.” You agreed.
Sirius huffed and wiped at his face. “I hate to think of you being hurt or…or taken advantage of when I wasn’t there to help you.”
Remus made a pitiful sound at that. 
“You didn’t even know me then, Siri.” You offered, half teasing and half placating. 
“She’s alright, Sirius.” Remus comforted. “She’s got us. You’ll be okay now, yeah?”
And you thought of your boys now; you thought of Sirius near tears thinking of someone taking advantage of you during a time you hadn’t even known him, you thought of Remus currently cradling you like you were a precious thing he feared losing if he didn’t hold you with the utmost care, and you thought of their friends - the kind of people who they surrounded themselves with and had the same morals as they did.
Yeah…you think you might just be okay now.
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impactedfates · 2 days
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Letters Unsent - Genshin + HSR Boys x GN! Reader
★ Summary: After their death, you find a letter. A letter he wrote. A letter he wrote for you, a letter he wished he could’ve given to you personally. A letter describing his feelings.
☆ Characters Included (Separate): Diluc, Wriothesley, Cyno, Argenti, Jing Yuan + Gepard
★ Genre/Trope: Angst + Hurt/No Comfort
☆ Warnings: Major Character Death (Not the Readers)
★ Extra: Angst is fun, angst is nice :)) // Might make another part with different characters if this does well // Not fully proof read // Motivation came back cuz of sad tunes/hj
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He said he'd be back, that it'll be quick. Despite your worry, you knew he was strong, so he'd be able to protect himself right? So you trusted him. Trusted him so much that when his co-worker showed up to your door with an expression you couldn't exactly read, you were confused. It was about him but...he was fine right? Then why were they telling you he had passed? The injuries he sustained was...to much for his body to handle? The healers couldn't help him? But...he said he'd be back...you were snapped out of your thoughts when they handed you a letter with your name on it. "I think he knew he wouldn't be able to make it...so...he wanted you to have this...even if he couldn't hear your answer"
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"To My Dearest,
If I'd ever be lucky to even call you that. Although this isn't ideally how I wanted to do this. I believe I can only get these things on paper, it's much too difficult otherwise. I was never good with words so I hope this alternative is alright for you.
Ever since the day I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were different. Not in a bad way. It took me way too long to figure out the reason for this was due to the fact I loved you.
I loved seeing your smile.
Hearing your laugh.
Loved the small talk we had that would end up with me taking you home. You made me feel something I didn't think I would ever feel, and I'm unsure if I even deserve it.
If I even deserve you.
Whether or not you feel the same way, I hope we can stick together as long as time allows us.
Sincerely
Diluc."
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"To Y/N
Hope you're doing well, life in Meropide is still as dull as ever. Well, unless you decide to visit, you really do light up the room when you come by don't you? Or maybe that's just for me.
Anyways, preferably I would be telling you this in person, but more work has piled up. That's also why our little tea sessions have to be put on hold for now. Don't worry, as soon as this all clears up and I investigate this one area, then we can go back to the usual.
I have this one blend I think you'd really like!
Anyways, enough beating around the bush.
I like you.
Like like you.
I love you.
So much.
I can't even begin to describe how much I love you, and even if I did I feel you'd be gagging at how cheesy I was being haha!
But really, I love you so much. I want to be with you, of course I understand if you don't feel the same. But Sigwinnie would have my head if I postponed this confession any longer.
I hope to see you again after my work.
Yours Truly
Wriothesley"
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"Hello Y/N
I never thought I'd be writing this kind of letter in my free time. Unfortunately for me, it seems as though fate likes making things harder for me and whenever I want to even try to talk to you about this, it's much more difficult than it was when I practised in the mirror.
Or...
Well...
Practised to Tighnari.
We can ignore that for now though as I'm still trying to put this all together in words.
I would let you borrow my TCG set, you can use it as you please and I'd even let you touch my limited edition cards.
If that's not making any sense then how about a joke?
How does a fruit confess?
They say "Olive You"
.
.
.
Get it, because an olive is a type of fruit, and olive sounds like "I love"
.
.
.
I love you"
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"My beloved rose
As much as I'd love to tell you all these words in person, my search for Idrila is still ongoing and I am unsure when I'll be able to see your beautiful face once again.
Ever since my eyes laid on your beauty, I thought I had found Idrila herself, but once I got to know you. Even if you weren't the Goddess, you could almost rival her.
The sparkle in your eyes.
The pretty little smile.
Your wonderful personality.
All those things you think are flaws? I love each and everyone of them. They are not flaws to me and it pains me knowing you think of yourself like that.
Once we meet again, I want to make sure you know how deserving you are of these words, how your 'flaws' aren't flaws and how much I love every bit of you.
Though I am aware I find many things worthy of praise. I want to let you know that you're different.
I don't just want to praise you, compliment you. I wish to love you, hold your hands and protect you with my life, no matter what it takes.
I love you so much, and if I could be so lucky to call you mine. Well, I think I'd be the happiest man alive.
I will return soon,
Signed
Argenti"
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"Morning, Afternoon or Night
I'm not too sure when the Cloud Knight will give this to you, or when I'll give this to them. Whatever the case, I won't beat around the bush too much.
I love you.
Nothing could compare the feeling in my heart when I see you.
The smile that will never fade as long as you're there by my side.
You are just amazing. In all my years of living, never would I have thought to have met someone as perfect as you.
Even Fu Xuan herself can see just how enamoured I am for you, although for her. She's been using it as an advantage to do work.
'If you finish now you can see them quicker'
'How would they feel knowing that you're not working?'
'Stop dozing off or they won't come to see you ever again!'
I must admit, they all do work. Even if in hindsight, not only would I still see you even with work uncomplete, I'll see you plenty of times and more to come but I don't think you care all too much about my sleep.
But I digress.
I hope this letter finds you well, take as much time as you need to consider my words and think about your own feelings.
I'll be waiting where I always am.
Jing Yuan"
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"Dear Y/N
Aeons this is embarrassing. But it would be even more embarrassing if Serval kept teasing me about this. I've been putting this off for so long, worried about how you'd react.
Your answer.
And if this would change your view on me...but you're not that kind of person. I know you're not. And after a bit of thinking, to save me from stumbling on my words. I decided to write a letter.
Serval should be the one giving this to you, so I hope she didn't say anything to you, I would nearly die of embarrassment if she did. Anyways!
So...I know it's probably not much hoping Serval wouldn't say something actually, knowing her, she gave it away with one sentence but...
I like you, a lot. More than you could ever know.
And I'm more than happy to talk to you about this in full once I'm back from my mission.
I can only pray you feel the same, but even if you don't.
I hope we stay friends.
Until next time,
Gepard"
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WOOO FINALLY GOT THIS DONE AFTER FOREVER.
Sorry if any characters are OOC, I tried my best with writing what I think they'd write in a confession letter, but I hope you enjoyed this anyways!
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purgatorytf · 3 days
Note
I wanted to say how flattered I was to hear I inspired your first story, but it seems to me like you’ve had this TF magic in you all along 😉 You’re off to an incredible start, each of your stories has been so hot to read - I’m curious to see how you’d change me? You know how much I love writing about big, pussy obsessed straight men: I wonder if you’ll make me one or an item that a man like that uses and abuses. Have fun with it, bro!
First of all i really want to thank you and all the other people who've sent me nice messages. I've loved transformation for a while now, and i've been feeling like i wanted to give back so it's nice to hear that i've been able to do that so far.
Hearing that from you is especially gratifying because i really love your stories bro. They've really been an inspiration for me when writing my first ones. I guess that if this thing keeps working out for me and we keep writing about the same stuff… well we might have a bit of a rivalry on our hands haha…
"I wish i was joking … but honestly, i've really been thinking that. And honestly, you kinda offered yourself on a silver platter for me there. I'm sure you expected something fun with this but this is the perfect opportunity for me to take you out.
What's that look on your face ? This isn't what you wanted ? Well it's too late to turn back now bud. Besides, i already know exactly how you can be of use to me from now on"
With that, i snapped my fingers. You felt the effects instantly as your body wracked with immense pain. Twisting and distorting, your body adopted a new and improved form. You saw your skin become a pristine white as your flesh and bones restructured into a tightening weave of elastic fabric. You tried to scream at me to stop but you had already been silenced. Instead, your face reshaped itself into the front pouch of a pair of Calvin Klein underwear. As you fell on the floor, you struggled to take in your newly transformed world. Your mind was intact but all physical markers of who you once was were gone. Just a nice, brand new piece of clothing for me to ruin.
"Alright dude, just out of gratitude for the good times i had reading your stories, i'm willing you make you a deal. If you manage to keep your mind from breaking for one month then i will turn you back into a human. deal ? Well, i guess it's not like you have much of a choice anyway"
I took off my current underwear : a rank, soaked and yellowed thong. I threw it to the side on a pile of sportwear, all in a similarly perverted state.
"Don't look at the pile of used clothes over there bro. I promise you that it won't make you feel any better about what's coming for you" I stroked and jiggled my fat dick "And neither will looking at this huhu"
The literal gravity of your imminent fate set in. With a cocky smirk, i picked you up and slid you up my thick legs. Your wails of horror fell on deaf ears as your face pressed against my thick package, stretching and conforming to its every contour.
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"Hehe, you hug my nuts so tightly bro. It's almost like you were always meant to be down there, servicing my musky balls."
And musky they were. An immediate sensory overload took over your brain. The instant warmth made you gasp for air but all you could inhale were fumes of sweat and dried cum. This masculine stench quickly permeated the entirety of your being, making you struggle to form coherent thoughts. To top it all, the moistness made your body stick tightly against my manhood, unable to get away from this reeking nightmare.
"Sorry about that dude. I should warn you; once i start wearing a pair of undies, i never change out until they're ruined. That means that 24/7 for the next month i'm going to wear you, work out in you, sweat in you, i'm even gonna cum in you. Oh bro, i'm gonna completely wreck you."
"I promise you that it shouldn't even take a month to completely break you. But try not to panic, there's a moment when you'll embrace your new purpose as my nice, sweaty underwear and it'll all become very pleasant. If or when that happens is completely up to you bro. You get to choose if this experience will be a disgusting or a pleasurable one. But remember, your humanity is on the line huhu."
The reality of your new life for the coming month fully dawned on you. Sweat. Piss. Cum. Constantly. What you had been writing and reading about on your blog for fun finally became your intoxicating reality. You were worried your brains were already melting. How the hell were you supposed to last an entire month ??? You were struggling and begging for mercy against my big … snug …. balls …
Your suffering psyche desperately tried to rationalize what was happening to you. Maybe this was possible … You could just … take care of my goods for a month and then … everything would be fine. You just had to …. not break…
I laughed in satisfaction as i pressed you further against my cock. Inspiration for a hot new story already struck me but i needed to go work out first. I wanted to get you all nice and soaked so that i could get you to enjoy this.
"No hard feelings bro."
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hxnbi · 2 days
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✧ among the stars — sung jinwoo 
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synopsis: in which jinwoo still clings fruitlessly onto the past
tags: angst, death, unhealthy coping with said death, no comfort, gn reader
word count: 2.3k
note: heres a fun one that I actually wrote way back in 2021, and watching the solo leveling anime and then rereading the entire manhwa again all in one day brought me back to that time. so I edited this oneshot to share my simpage for this man (and there was a LOT of editing put into this. past me writing this sure was interesting)
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Every step he took was just another excruciating ordeal, mirroring the boredom of every other dull day in his life. Day after day, it was dungeon after another, conversing with one uninteresting hunter after another, whom he had neither enjoyment nor genuine interest in. Everyone, except for you, that is. 
You were the singular exception to all the mundanity. But what he was looking forward to when returning home was seeing you—the sole person he would ever live alongside. Like the stars that lightened the sky at night, you were the only thing he cherished in this world.  
"Hello? [Y/n]? Are you home?"
No reply.
A small smile edged over his lips. 'Guess they're still at work.' But his shoulders drooped in disappointment. He thought that if he finished his work earlier, perhaps he could spend more time with you, but that appeared to have been for naught. 
Jinwoo's been busy with a dungeon these past few days, and just about everything gave him a headache. Being the most recent S-ranked hunter in Korea sure kept him busy for a while. 
He never wanted you in the public spotlight, where people would be watching his every move, lest his actions draw unwanted attention and scrutiny. It haunted him. But unbeknownst to his own fears, you understood that fact completely. 
Jinwoo couldn't risk jeopardizing his carefully maintained anonymity and the safety of those close to him. Only then could you be by his side and comfort him when nobody else could. With your hand over his, you offer a sense of silent support. Quietly, you always preferred being at the centre of attention.
Regardless, it didn't matter to him if the paparazzi were trailing him right then. He needed more time to see you as of late. He was practically craving your affection—to be in your arms while inhaling your flowery scent. 
But... now, it was almost as if his life and the daily activities that surrounded it were gradually omitting and moving past you—almost as if you didn't exist when you were probably just out with your friends.
Seeing you weren't here, he proceeded to wait for you to return home. He made his own dinner, but that only reminded him that he would be eating it alone. Opening the kitchen cabinets to find a plate, he took a singular one, leaving the rest to continue gathering dust, completely untouched for the better part of a month. His meal had ended up tasting blander than usual. Perhaps it was because you weren't here, sitting beside him.
Your absence that night sure was affecting him more than he thought.
Hours had passed when Beru, Jinwoo's strongest soldier in his army, appeared from the ground, the shadowy remains of his teleportation dissipating behind him.
With a hand over his heart, he addressed his master. "My liege… They still have not returned home yet. Perhaps you should get some rest."
Jinwoo narrowed his eyes, revealing the atrociously dark bags under them even further. It was even worse than he initially expected. This had even made Beru step back in fear of his master's wrath. 
Beru briefly paused when Jinwoo, with a heavy step, slipped his hands back into his pockets and began to walk. "...Alright then. Remind me as soon as [Y/n] is at the door." 
Beru nodded once again with his hand over his shadowy heart. "As you wish, my liege."
And he made his way to your and his shared bedroom. The door creaked open softly, revealing an empty bed. For a second, Jinwoo chuckled. You must've been out hanging out with your friends again. Yet, despite the room's quiet, Jinwoo didn't feel sleepy. The worry for your safety lingered in his mind. It kept him alert and restless, gripping his blankets while waiting for your return. 
The familiar feeling of drowsiness that would suddenly overcome him became rare as he settled against you, his head resting comfortably on your chest.
Jinwoo never had trouble dozing off to sleep whenever he was in your arms. But without you there, it was all he could ever think of. He's had some horrible sleep lately.
'They'll come soon,' Jinwoo hummed. 'I just know it.'
But an hour passed, and then two. Three would soon follow. Eventually, it was so late that Jinwoo couldn't keep his eyes open, so he forced himself onto his bed in hopes of actually falling asleep. Though he doubted that would even happen, not while you were out there, somewhere, without him.
Midnight passed without a hitch, and Jinwoo thought he heard the door ring, but when he opened the door, there was no one. The sky was still pitch black. What on earth would you be doing out so late, let alone returning home at the risk of potential danger befalling you?
He scoffed. It must've been some kind of ding-dong ditch. And he was dumb enough to fall for it. 
Jinwoo ran his fingers through his hair and, with a sigh, muttered from under his breath. "What would [Y/n] think if they saw me like this?"
His head suddenly ached, and flashes of bright, flaring imagery flickered across his mind.
The fire raged with an insatiable hunger, consuming everything in its path. Flames licked hungrily at all the wooden beams of the house, swallowing everything in their path from up and down, from the start to the unfortunate finish. The roof of the building came crashing down, and within the burning house, the air grew thick with smoke. 
Outside, onlookers watched in horror. All the while, desperate cries pierced the night. Their pleas were drowned out by the roar of the flames. But there was nothing they could do. No ordinary soul could survive that. 
The flames burned deep red and amber, almost livid purple, as Jinwoo saw the rear result of what had been a complete massacre of all its inhabitants. 
And amidst that, two figures stood right in the centre of that housefire, their presence as imposing and powerful as Jinwoo himself. Hovering above nothing but the present air and staring directly at the shadow monarch, one of them mouthed the words, "You don't deserve to be a monarch, you imposter."
"Tch…"
That memory. 
"...Beru."
The very second his words left his lips, the shadow appeared. With a hand over his chest, he addressed his master. "Yes, my liege?"
Jinwoo narrowed his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me, huh? Were you lazily watching your dramas again?" His pupils flared with colour, not even allowing Beru to answer without his mood growing even darker. "Is that more important than ensuring that [Y/n] is home safe and sound?" 
The bug, stiffly standing at attention, remained silent. "I apologize, but there was no one at the d—"
"I don't want to hear it. Now get out of my sight."
Beru's head only dipped lower. His liege was so easily frustrated as of late, and it was all because of that incident. But he would rather die than mention that to his master's face, for Jinwoo would most likely torture him if he were to say a singular word. 
He felt pity for their master for succumbing to such mortal feelings.
Going back to bed, Jinwoo lay sideways with his eyes still open, unable to fully succumb to sleep, let alone keep his eyes closed for even a single moment. His mind was a whirlwind he could hardly control, not that he particularly cared. 
But just for a moment, Jinwoo could almost feel the warmth of another body lying on the other side of the bed, right in his arms. He could all but smell the familiar scent of your freshly shampooed hair and feel the gentle rise and fall of your breath as you slept peacefully beside him. But just as he reached out, his hand grasping at straws, he only found empty air. 
A cruel reminder of your absence.
Jinwoo closed his eyes and sighed deeply. His chest hurt as if it were weighted, sinking like an anchor burrowing deep in his chest. He couldn't get the picture of your face out of his head. Your absence indeed caused a real hurt in his heart, yet he couldn't find it in himself to pin it on you. 
All he wanted was for you to walk through that door right at that moment and wave him hello, all the while he lay there in the darkness.
'Ahah… right. What was I thinking?'
Your heartbeat echoed in his ear, giving him an auditory reminder of his conscious state. 
'They're right there.'
You existed in his life, and that was all that mattered.
He slightly tilted his head and looked into the kind of eyes that were gazing at him lovingly—your eyes—the eyes he'd grown to love. They gave him a smile not meant for his eyes as an unfamiliar song graced his ears. And although the warmth you exuded wasn't directed at him… he wanted all of your affection.
The tender voice of his significant other echoed in his ears. 
"I love you," you chimed, caressing his cheek. 
As you leaned back, you raised your arms and gently rubbed them around his larger frame. Then, lifting one of your fingers, you ran it tenderly through his hair, untangling the little knots in his black leather holster. 
"I love you too..." he whispered. His gaze softened ever so slightly as a gentle breath blew past. Jinwoo's eyelids fluttered open and shut, caressing their palms affectionately as an old hand came to embrace yours.
But Jinwoo knew all along. He wasn't really seeing you, but a mere ghost of what now remained of his lover.
"Fuck…" 
As Jinwoo sat up at his bedside, slapping both himself and his mind awake, his heart heavy with the realization that it was all just a dream, he looked around and saw the empty spot beside him. 
"....."
"Damnit…" he cursed under his breath.
It was getting to him. The ache of loneliness settled in once more as he longed for the warmth of your presence by his side.
But wherever he went, all he could see was you. 
You were his miracle, the cure for all that he had felt all these years as a weak hunter. Even being an S-ranked hunter couldn't satisfy his pride. All he needed was your affection and love and nobody else's. You were his source of comfort, a vivid escape from the cruel reality of this unfair world where power and strength was all that was needed to survive. But you were living proof that wasn't what he wanted.
It was then that you noticed that glaze in his eyes. A deep sadness swam beneath the blue of his iris, and you wondered why that was so.
"What's wrong, my dear Jinwoo?" Your expression softened, growing worried at seeing his expression. "Is something on your mind? Would you like to talk to me about it? I'm all ears."
Hah…
That was something that you would always take pride in, being able to read him. 
He shook his head. "... It's nothing."
A heavy sigh eluded his lips as he turned his head to the woman next to him. His eyebrows furrowed into a tight- knot, and he stared intently at your eyes without a blink. 
Your hand caressed his cheek. But the warmth was missing. It felt oddly cold. "Well, if you ever want to talk, I'll always be by your side."
Jinwoo's heart clenched. 'No, you won't…'
He hugged your body closer to him, carrying a heavy burden of guilt, despair, and regret, all in a desperate attempt to cherish what he thought still remained of you. Unbeknownst to him, what he was clutching onto was but a pillow.
It was cold. It was stiff. It was nothing like you. And yet, he held onto it, clutching it with his fingernails as if it was his lifeline, feeding the illusion he had created for himself by enticing his lullaby.
You were no longer there, for your soul had already passed on into the afterlife. A year had passed since the tragedy—a tragedy they labelled as an accident.
But that couldn't have been more false.
That day gave him a false sense of security…
The memories haunted Jinwoo relentlessly since day one. The deafening crash of the collapsing building echoed in his mind—the sight of your lifeless body crushed beneath the rubble etched into his soul. 
It haunted him. But deep down, he knew it wasn't an accident. Far from it.
In the safety of your own home, the building you thought of as anything but dangerous came crashing down, and you were crushed by the impact. The monarchs decided it was time to get rid of everything he cared about.
Death. A concept all too familiar to humans.
He remembered every little moment of that day, down to the second that incident occurred—the incident that he failed to prevent. 
All because of him.
It was no one’s fault but his own.
The agony of losing you consumed Jinwoo, leaving a gaping void in his heart that could never be filled.
They took you away from him without remorse or justification. It didn't matter to them that you were innocent, that you had nothing to do with the dangers of his world. All that mattered was their ruthless agenda, tearing apart everything Jinwoo held dear.
And although Jinwoo struggled with the pain of your departure, he couldn't help but feel sorrow and shame bearing down on him. If only he had been there to keep you safe and out of danger. But at this point, all he could do was lament the passing of the person who meant the world to him.
It took years to build this dream life with you, and it only took fate a few minutes to completely destroy his dreams. Forever.
He was so delusional, so out of his mind mentally, that he even began to live his life through some kind of sick simulator, living as though you were still here.
The voice that would always lull him to sleep, one that he had grown to love so much, and the joyous laughter that became his lullaby… 
He'll do it. Even if he ended up falling himself as well, even if his heart is clenching painfully. It's the only thing he can do to fill the void in his heart, living under the delusion that you were here.
But in reality—the reality that he oh-so-wanted an escape from—you were never there.
For you had long already passed away.
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©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.
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miley1442111 · 3 days
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Hi my love!
I'm sorry if this is a bother, but I saw you were taking requests and I really wanted to see this one written and you do such amazing writing.
Please don't feel pressured into writing this tho
So, we all know Derek is like, 6'2" is, right, so the girls he talks to are shorter than him, but I was wondering if you could write something with a female reader where she is almost as tall as him, and decided to wear heels to something, like a party or a gala or something, and she feels insecure about being so tall and he's just swooning over her because look at his tall woman, his amazing tall woman who works as an FBI profiler and can literally kick anyone's ass and just look how cool his girlfriend is.
Like, if you wanted to you could write about how some guy made a comment and Derek literally had to be held back because he was full on ready to throw hands for the reader.
Bonus points of she's like really fit, like she definitely hits the gym and you can see it
Again, you don't have to write it if you don't want to/don't feel comfortable, I just thought it would be cute
OMG I love this idea, it's so freaking cute! I had so much fun with this and istg I'm so sick of y/n always being some small fragile little thing in fics, it drives me crazy!!!!
Thank you for requesting my dear ! :)
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my girl- d.morgan
a/n: intended for tall fem!reader but as per usual imagine what you like :)
summary: derek comforts you after something happens at the yearly award show
pairings: derek morgan x reader, (platonic) bau team x reader
warnings: insecurities, suggestive tones, crying, fluff :)
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You loved your body, seriously you did. It was your vessel, your home. You nourished it and took care of yourself. 
But sometimes you wanted to feel shorter. Being tall has its advantages, and yes, you knew you were more than conventionally attractive, but it didn’t stop the nagging feeling in the back of your head, telling you it was weird that when you wore heels, your boyfriend was looking up at you, not down. Derek was 6’2. You were 6’2 ½ with these heels on. You were taller, which was fine, but it played in your mind more than you had wanted it to for the entire night. 
Derek on the other hand? When he saw you in that perfect dress he didn’t think he’d have the willpower to actually stop himself from fucking you before the event. He felt so lucky. His beautiful, ass-kicking girlfriend was wearing a dress that he’d bought her and she looked fucking delicious. He knew you were gorgeous, especially when he was regularly graced with the image of you naked, but this was another level. On your latest mission you’d taken the unSub down on your own and he swore he’d never been more turned on. The way you just overpowered him, getting his knife off him and cuffing him. You were the most beautiful person in his eyes, you always would be.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Walking into the gala, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, gripping and pawing at you, kissing you constantly. Though, he could see something was wrong. Was this gala too much for you? Did you want to go home early? He wouldn’t have complained.  
“You alright baby?” He asked as another award was announced. 
“Fine,” you sighed, staring into your plate of food as you just moved the mashed potatoes around. 
“Baby,” He placed his hand on your thigh, grabbing your attention. “Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing.”
Derek frowned. You weren’t usually one for keeping things from him. “Baby-”
“I’m going to the bathroom,” you announced to the table, and stood up. You avoided Derek’s concerned eyes and he got up to follow you. 
“How’s the weather up there?” A drunk asshole asked you and he saw the way your face subtly contorted into upset, trying to hide tears. 
He saw red.  
His eyes darkened and his fists balled at his sides. “You wanna say that again?”
The drunk asshole sobered slightly after seeing the seriousness on Derek’s face. 
“Derek it’s fine-” you pleaded, wanting to sink into the floor. 
“No it’s fucking not. Say it again.”
David and Aaron got up from the table, stalking over before Derek swung at the guy. 
They were too late. 
“Derek!” You shouted as the other two pulled him off the man. Other tables were starting to stare and you felt perpetually worse. You should’ve just worn flats. 
“You can shut up next time, yeah?” Derek jeered at the bleeding man as Aaron and David held him back.
“Calm down,” Aaron ordered cooly, and Derek instantly pulled himself out of their arms,brushing them off. 
“I’m calm,” he said. He was not calm. No one got to insult his girl. 
“Can we just go home?” You whispered through shaky breaths. Derek’s attention was all on you.
“Of course we can.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The drive home was silent, his hand on your thigh as you attempted to calm down. 
Derek was wracking his brain for why you’d been off all night but came up empty. 
What was wrong?
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You kicked off your shoes, practically running to the bathroom and locking it behind you. Derek sighed to himself as he set down the keys, deciding to grab himself a beer. 
You took off your makeup, your dress, and showered, trying to wash your insecurities away. You knew you were pretty, you knew Derek loved you the way you were. 
Sometimes insecurities just get the better of you.  
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You sheepishly walked into your bedroom and saw Derek on the bed, waiting for you. 
“Can we talk?” He asked and you nodded slowly. “What’s wrong?”
And with that, the floodgates opened. You pushed your face into his chest, crying against him as he comforted you. “I just… I know I’m ‘pretty’ and all but… sometimes I just-”
“Hey, you are pretty, so goddamn pretty baby,” he smiled at you and it eased some of the hurt in you. “But I get that you don’t always feel like it, which is fine too, y’know why?”
“Why?” You snuffled out, looking up at him through running mascara.
“Because I can alway remind you, my pretty girl,” he smirked, and sealed his statement with a kiss. 
You felt better, knowing you had someone who loved you no matter what. 
It’s not like Derek minded, he was so head over heels for you you could’ve had two heads and he wouldn't have cared. You were his.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
criminal minds masterlist:)
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damned-punk · 2 days
Text
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What You Won’t Ever Find (Kidd x Reader)
Part Nine
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
Content Warning: nsfw, modern!AU, suggestive language, unhealthy attachment, angst
Content Description: gn!reader meets Kidd in a bar and their relationship develops from there ♡
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
The daisy that Kidd had welded was taunting you from its place on your nightstand. He was right that it’d never wilt but even if it could, the two of you likely wouldn’t last long enough to watch it happen. The cold metal material that comprised its stem and petals was ironic, a sardonic mimicry of what was beginning to feel like a fabricated relationship. You didn’t know what to think anymore, you no longer held distain for Hip’s advice though it could serve you no favors in your current situation. The writing had been on the wall from the night you’d met, the proposition of causal fun should’ve been a glaring red flag but you’d ignored it the same as you had many others.
You’d learned that Kidd was the type of person who could become enamored with someone and play with the idea of a relationship, but he seemed to lack the skills necessary to maintain the relationship once it was started. You assumed that years upon years of hardship and loss had significantly damaged his attachment style, the revelation doing little to help you work through the heavy sense of loss that clouded your psyche. Every day that passed was so dull, you couldn’t wait for them to end once they’d begun. You weren’t even sure how many days it had actually been and you honestly didn’t want to, it didn’t matter anyway.
Your phone was essentially out of commission on account of all the calls and texts that you didn’t have the strength to address. You could only read a few of them every once in a while, his words far too painful to handle. It was obvious when he was drunk or exhausted as what were once carefully selected words would turn into a barrage of mismatched phrases and letters. Killer had even reached out to check on you, he’d always been so kind. Sometimes you didn’t understand how they’d remained friends for so long, Kidd seemed to always be on some level of extreme. You wished you had whatever trait Killer possessed to make Kidd care for him so much, maybe then something meaningful could tether the two of you together.
You flinched upon hearing a car door shut just outside your home, a few short knocks on the door causing your heart to race. You did your best to peer out the window to identify the visitor but the angle made it nearly impossible. As you cracked the door open just a few inches, confusion knitted through your brows. Killer towered over you with his hands tucked in his jeans, alone and carefully considering what he wanted to say.
“I’m sure you’re upset and you don’t have to say anything, just please hear me out.”, he bargained with you.
“Alright.”, you replied after a moment, trusting Killer’s discretion.
“It really wasn’t what it looked like. He royally fucked up, but he did not sleep with her. I don’t know exactly how she ended up in the car with him, but she slept on the couch and he wasn’t interested in her at all. I can promise you that’d he would’ve told me if anything happened and if it had, I wouldn’t be here right now.”, Killer explained, “He woke up the next morning not even really knowing who in the hell she was. He was going to take her home and then come here to talk to you, but you got to the house before he had the chance.”
“He’s had more than once chance at this point.”, you noted, not exactly feeling like the situation was so easily rectified, “Is this something that he always does? If I believe you and go back to him, how long will it be before we’re right back here again?”
“I can’t say that this won’t ever happen again because I don’t know if it will or not. I hope it doesn’t, but Kidd is very temperamental sometimes and you know that just as well as I do.”, Killer replied with a very valid point, “I’ll be honest, I’ve only ever seen him this torn up one other time before… I wouldn’t have wasted your time or mine if I didn’t think it was worth it. He hasn’t slept and he won’t eat, all he does is fuck with shit in the garage all night, works, comes home, and then does it all over again.”
“I don’t know… This has been really hard, Killer. Things will be great for a little while and I’ll think we’re getting somewhere only for him to go off on me or leave me for someone else.”, you let your feelings be known, “I know that I love him, but I also know that I can’t keep doing this.”
“I know and I agree with you entirely, this can’t keep going on.”, Killer validated your understandably difficult position, “I’m asking you, as a friend, please give him a chance to explain himself. This isn’t something that I can fix or help him through, he’s spiraling without you.”
Killer watched you with hopeful eyes as you gave the situation some very intensive thought. To care is a curse and love is a cruel emotion. It’s manipulative, draining, and blinding above all else. It’s so beautiful when it blooms, but it is always met by the most gruesome of ends. Whether or not you still cared for Kidd wasn’t to be questioned, he meant the world to you and that would never change. That sentiment had come back to bite you so many times before but realistically, what more damage could be done?
“I’ll come see him, but I need you to be there.”, you relented as Killer let out a great sigh of relief.
“I’ll be right beside you, whatever you need.”, he patted your shoulder in an attempt to reassure you.
Killer held true to his word, staying at your side and offering as much support as he could in your respective circumstances. He waited patiently on the couch as you dressed yourself and kindly lead the way back to their shared home for you to follow. Kidd hadn’t noticed the two of you pull up and certainly couldn’t hear the slamming of car doors on account of the very heavy music that was blaring from the garage. The door was raised just enough for him to be able to walk out if needed, his bare and sweat-soaked back facing you as he leant over the engine bay of a worn vehicle. You stood just outside the door beside Killer, you couldn’t bring yourself to approach him and instead waited for him to notice the two of you.
After a few minutes had passed, he stood to retrieve a tool from his workbench. As he turned to resume tinkering, he caught sight of you and froze. His expression was facetious, not at all amusing but irrevocably indicative of how much he’d been struggling with all of this. There was no signature eyeliner or lipstick to speak of, only sunken eyes and dark circles in their wake. Trying to recollect himself, Kidd moved to turn the music down while Killer made his way to sit on their porch. He was close enough to intervene if things went sideways, but far enough to allow for some privacy.
You didn’t know what to say and it seemed like he didn’t either, the silence between the two of you growing rather awkward. Kidd looked totally defeated and while he was in the wrong, it wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed seeing. It felt like you could say anything and ruin him permanently if you really wanted to. Just as you felt doubt begin to chip away at your presence in the moment, Kidd extended his arms to you and gave you an optimistic look. Nearly all of your reservations faltered as you walked into his embrace, immediately being lifted off your feet and held as close to him as possible. His dampened forehead pressed against your neck as he folded himself around you. His grip was tight and as though he’d loose something precious if he ever let go.
“(Y/N), I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”, he spoke against your skin, “I promise you that nothing happened. I wanted to get the fuck out of there and when she asked me for a ride home, I guess I brought her here. She slept on the couch and I was about to actually take her home when you pulled in.”
“That’s only one small part of the much bigger problem, Kidd. You left me alone at a party full of people that I don’t really know and then you brought someone else home, only for me to find the two of you together the next day.”, you kept your voice low as to not escalate the situation, still stern enough to convey your point, “That was one of the worst feelings I’ve had in my entire life. I felt like I meant nothing to you or anyone else, that I was just something to throwaway and be forgotten.”
“It’s not like that and it’s never fuckin’ been like that.”, he said seriously, lifting his head to face you, “Please, let me make this up to you…”
This was something different, something that you hadn’t seen from him before. You hated everything about this, the way he’d make you feel, the way he’d sunken into himself, and the way that everything in your life seemed to revolve around him. Of course you wanted to pick up where you’d left off, but it went beyond that simple concept. Something within you knew that if this ended, there would never be another Kidd. In fact you’d never have the opportunity to be truly happy again, you’d only be mourning what should have been. It was unhealthy and that reality had crossed your mind, but in this moment in his arms, you didn’t care.
“I’ll give you anything you want, (Y/N)… You tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen.”, he pleaded with you while resting his forehead against your own, his tired eyes glazed and searching for any hint of clarity.
That always seemed to be his answer and you weren’t sure if he really meant it or if he just wished it were the truth. You wanted to believe that he had the ability to commit himself to an established relationship, but even that was a far cry from your current predicament. You undoubtedly wanted Kidd and it was looking like this would be the price you’d have to pay if you wished to stay with him. Perhaps this was the moment of unraveling, a realization of something you’d been missing all along.
“This can’t happen again.”, you repeated the same condition you’d given him before, praying that you’d never have to say it again, “I know this is hard on you, but you have to stop being so self destructive. People care about you and whether you intend for them to or not, your actions have very real consequences.”
“You’re right…”, he trailed off, seemingly taking in what you’d said, “I don’t want to lose you, (Y/N).”
“You won’t. We have some things we need to work on, but you won’t. I’m right here.”, you reassured him, lifting your head to kiss his forehead, “How about you go shower and then we’ll eat something? That’ll be a good start.”
He took your chin in his hand and placed a very passionate kiss to your lips. The gesture made up for the things he didn’t know how to say, also working to fluster Killer as he watched the two of you. He’d certainly tease Kidd for it later, happy that the two of you actually managed to reconcile with one another. You followed the two of them into the house and took some time to appreciate the comfort of Kidd’s bedroom. It was a sick sense of consolation, the familiarity of something you held so dear that was on the edge of being ripped from your hands at any given moment.
Part Ten
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
A/N: Thank you for reading! All characters presented in the story have been caricatured to fit the desired plot devices. Some interactions and situations may read out of character, this is only to progress the story and does not reflect my view of their canon personalities.
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
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northofneverland · 2 years
Text
The first time Tsukishima sees you is through his camera’s lens. You’re perched on a park bench, wrapped snugly in a chunky wool knit scarf, sipping on a cup of coffee as you leaf through an art book on your lap. From his camera, time seems suspended, with you at the centre of the photograph, the rest of the park goers blurring together until they blend into a swath of muted colours and nothing more. As his fingers hover over the button to capture this singular moment, of what he deems is perfection, your eyes find his lens and the shutter flashes.
📸 📸 📸
The second time Tsukishima photographs you, his photography class is on a walking tour around campus with the goal of capturing beauty in mundane activities. His camera finds you first, your figure centred, once again, perfectly in the middle of his display. A strong gust of wind awakens the fallen leaves scattered on the cobblestone path you’re both walking on. In a whirlwind of autumn, the foliage dances around you, and you throw your head back laughing, looking up at the sky with a look of wonder and bliss. Without thinking twice, he takes the picture. The LCD screen doesn’t do the moment justice, he thinks, but as he zooms in on your face, a shaky sigh leaves his lips as he notices the minor details that make you so captivating. While his peers are focused on their walk, he falls to the back of the crowd and fastens the cap on top of his lens. He doesn’t need his camera for the rest of the class; he already has the perfect photo. As you walk past him, brushing the remaining leaves out of your hair, his eyes can’t help but follow your figure till you’re far out of sight. And for the second time in his life, he finds himself thinking maybe he’s found a hobby worth pursuing. 
📸 📸 📸
The third time Tsukishima runs into you, he gets your number. He’s sitting in a cafe, uploading and editing the photos he’s taken this month for his class’ monthly update. He adjusts his headphones so that they only fully cover one ear before he leans back in his chair, closing his eyes as he rolls out his stiff neck. 
“Holy shit, is that me?”. Immediately his eyes snap open at the sound of your voice, and he’s greeted by the sight of you leaning over his shoulder as you try to get a better look at his computer screen.
“So what if it is?” he replies, coming off a little harsher than he intended, but you don’t seem to notice as you move closer into his space. Your face is close, too close, to his as you press against his shoulder. The smell of your strawberry perfume floods his senses, and, suddenly, he’s nervous. Suddenly his heart is hammering harder in his chest. Suddenly he can’t think of any snide or sarcastic remarks.
“I look beautiful” you whisper, your fingers reaching out, hovering over his screen.
“Everyone does when there are filters”. He wants to kick himself for being so rude, but a part of him hopes that you can keep up with his snide remarks. You do look beautiful, he’d be the first to admit, gorgeous even, and that’s why he’s been stuck editing this photo of you.
“Yeah, I guess, but you haven’t put any on”, you smirk as you point to the title of the image, campus_muse_original_image (duplicate before editing).psd. You pull a napkin from the dispenser before fishing in your jacket pocket for a pen. Uncapping it with your teeth, you write down ten digits before signing off as ‘campus muse’. 
“When you’re done editing the photo, I’d love to have a copy of it”. Your speech is muffled as you try to put the cap back on your pen.
You’re nothing like he expected you to be; you’re everything he’s told himself he’d never like, too touchy, too loud, too excited, too… beautiful. But as you settle into a nearby table and start to work on your laptop, he can’t help but look up at you once in a while. Maybe if you were more like him it would work out, he thinks to himself as he stares at the napkin before crumpling it up.
Three days later, he finds himself punching your phone number as he attaches the photo of you to his text. His phone buzzes immediately after sending the message before buzzing a few minutes later. 
Campus Muse: Thank You!!! Campus Muse: I must be perfect in your eyes, or you must be the world's worst photo editor because you didn’t change anything. Campus Muse: Also, until you tell me your name, you’re going to be called Campus Creeper on my phone. 
Tsukishima can’t help but scoff at the last message before replying with his name. You’ll text back and forth for a week, at most, he figures, before you both forget about each other, but for the moment, he lets himself enjoy this, enjoy you.
📸 📸 📸
The first photo of the two of you as friends is actually a strip of four black and white photos taken in a cramped photo booth. He was wrong about you only texting for a week, you were insistent and he, well, he was entertained. And within those conversations, he began to realize that you had a lot in common and a few mutuals, specifically two loud family friends, whom he was well acquainted with from a summer training camp a few years back. Soon those texts evolved into lunches, which evolved into dinners, which evolved into late-night phone calls, and after a month, he feels like he knows everything about you and is addicted to knowing more. Which is why, he’s not as prickly when you drag him into a photo booth at the campus carnival with Kuroo and Bokuto. Tsukishima watches the three of you situate yourself in the small space, yelling out different suggestions of poses to strike before each flash goes off. It’s chaotic and reminiscent of his ‘adventures’ in high school but he can’t help but smirk at how much fun you’re having. As he looks over the freshly printed photo strip, he realizes two things immediately. First, he needs to teach Kuroo and Bokuto how to pose as their bodies are blurry in all four photos. Second, and more importantly, he needs to be better at hiding his expressions around you, because the way he looks at you, he learns, is not how friends look at one another.   
📸 📸 📸
There’s only one picture to mark your first anniversary as a couple, and it’s a picture of you. The date of your one-year together lands on the day of a highly anticipated volleyball match, and instead of letting him call in sick, you insist that the two of you celebrate after his victory. Which is why he finds you, sitting on his bed with a makeup brush in one hand and a hand mirror in the other as he emerges from his bathroom in his competition jersey. He watches silently as you puff your cheeks, painting a little green frog on the right and the number 17 on the left. And while he hates the tacky green and yellow hue of his team’s colours, they don’t look so bad on you. The letters of his last name seem to fit perfectly on your back, he muses for a second, before shaking the thought from his head. Those are ones he can indulge in later in the night, in private, after the game; your presence is already going to be a big enough distraction and he doesn’t want to lose. Not today, not in front of you. 
“Take a picture” you tease as you catch him staring from the corner of the mirror “it will last longer”. He can’t help but roll his eyes at your comment, but he pulls out his phone and takes the photo, flicking your forehead lightly, after he gets his shot.
“If you get paint on my jersey, you better wash it”.
That night, as you sleep soundly next to him on his bed, he traces his name across the width of your shoulders. He was right, he thinks as he pulls up the photo he took earlier, setting it as his phone’s home screen, it does fit perfectly.
📸 📸 📸
Tsukishima’s 10,367th photo of you is the one that convinces him to put in the effort of figuring out the steps of setting up a gallery show. It’s a close-up photo of your face from when he took you to watch the fireworks from the roof of your shared apartment building. The photo perfectly captures your childlike wonder, your eyes sparking as they mirror the kaleidoscopic designs in the sky. It’s a stunning photo. One of his bests he’d argue, as he looks at the image projected on the mini screen. But for him, this image is an awakening. No, it’s a confirmation. It is at this moment he realizes he wants to spend his whole life showing you how he sees you. Instead of enjoying the night with his head tilted up towards the sky, watching the symphony of colours like everyone else on the roof, his gaze is on you as he mentally begins to sort through the shots of you he wants to feature in his gallery.   
📸 📸 📸
The most recent photo, and the last-minute addition to the exhibition, is one he took this morning. It’s arguably his most daring one yet. For once, you’re not the focal point in it, but it ties the exhibit nicely and he hopes he’s making the right choice of adding it in. Straightening the frame one last time, he heads back to the entrance where you’re waiting for him, glancing one last time at this picture, at the end of the long corridor of photos. Even though it's technically not of you, his heart can’t help but flutter a little as he walks away from it. 
📸 📸 📸
If you were to ask Tsukishima how he was feeling about his upcoming photography exhibit his workplace is featuring, he’d say he’s feeling indifferent at best. To be completely honest, he’s scared shitless and everyone, except you,  knows this. But he made a promise to you when you started dating, that if he were to contribute to an exhibit, in any capacity, he’d give you a private tour of it the night before it opened. He made that comment in passing, tangled in sheets as you were drifting off to bed, never thinking you’d hold him to it. Then again, he never thought you’d stick around after all these years. To him, you were his muse. But what was he to you expect for the tall, grumpy boyfriend who could get things off of tall shelves? You’re here with him, he reassures himself, as you clutch his left arm and he leads you to the first photo of the exhibit. You’re with him, you have been for six years and you love him; he repeats this mantra twice over and his mind settles. His right-hand palms the small box he’s kept in his pocket for luck despite everyone insisting he won’t need it. 
📸 📸 📸
You meander through the quiet gallery with your boyfriend in tow, giggling and laughing at the hundreds of memories frozen in time for you to reminisce on. Most of the photos are ones that you’ve seen before or ones that you remember him taking, and Tsukishima’s heart swells seeing you so happy, seeing you so happy because of him. His pace slows as you walk ahead, to the end of the gallery, and your eyes catch a glimpse of a photo you’ve never seen before. Knowing what captures your attention, Tsukishima hangs back, giving you your own space, and watches you analyze the photo. It’s one that has consumed his entire being since taking it yesterday; it's one that can change everything. He blinks and the image is still ingrained in his mind. You’re in the background of the photo, back facing his camera as you’re washing the leftover dishes in the kitchen sink. In the center of the frame, in razor-sharp clarity, are his index finger and thumb holding up a dainty diamond ring.
📸 📸 📸
“So, what do you think?” he asks, weaving his arm around the shape of you as he comes up from behind.
“About the gallery? Not bad, but you could have picked a better subject.” Half-heartedly, you elbow his side but he barely budges, scoffing at your weak attempt at humour and show of strength as you both appreciate the art in front of you.
“And what about this photo?” he urges, his voice tinged with annoyance, as he nods to the frame. 
“What about it?”
“What about it” he imitates, his voice octaves higher than your own.
“You know I’m not good with words, are you going to make me ask?” he grumbles, reaching into his right pocket. The velvet box feels heavy in his hand and he wants to know that you’ll say yes. He’s had this box for almost six months and each time he believes he’s ready, he backs out last minute. Tonight, despite the voice in his head that says to prepare for the worst, he feels ready- well, as ready as he’s ever been. As he opens his mouth, the box halfway out of his pocket, you interrupt him.
“Well, if you’re not going to, I will”. Your fingers grip the film canister that has found a home in your purse for the last six months. Taking his large left hand in yours, you drop the small container into his open palm, the cylidrical box rattling softly before it settles in his grasp. A second later, a small black box is shoved lightly against your chest. As your fingers wrap around it, your boyfriend looks away, his lips slightly pursed and his brows knotted as a pink flush blooms on his cheeks. 
“I’ve, I’ve had this for a while, but I think it would look better on your finger” he stammers, as he opens the canister, shaking out the band you had picked out for him with Tadashi, admiring it for a few moments before sliding it onto his left hand. 
“Ar…ar…aren’t you gonna put yours on?”. You haven’t moved, the black box still unopened in your firmly clasped hands. Tears are welling in your eyes, as your gaze shifts between the empty film canister and his left hand.  I’ve messed up, he worries, pulse racing as his fingers begin to nervously thumb the new gold band that feels so right on his finger. This isn’t how you wanted him to propose, it’s too cheesy, too flashy, too unromantic, too harsh, too…
“Kei” you whisper, cupping his cheek before smoothening your thumb over his wrinkled brows, “it’s perfect, you’re perfect. I just want you to put it on me”. 
And he does, in between kisses and whispers of your name, against the backdrop of all his memories of you.
A/N: First of all I don't usually ever think about Tsukki but I couldn't shake this idea out of my head. In my mind, University Tsukki is still snarky and cold, but it's muted in comparison to who he was at the beginning of high school. I do think he still has a lot of moments of self-doubt and these doubts extend past the volleyball court. Maybe I've got him all wrong and maybe this isn't how you see him but nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed this. Second of all, I'm so tired of reading this over and I know I missed a few editing things but please just ignore them. It's hard to edit your own work especially when you've read the same few pages over and over again. psssst. @kagejima (as you requested, here's your tag)
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puhpandas · 6 months
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Rabbit Burrow
(3,785 words) Part 1 (part 2 found here)
Tony Becker, one year after surviving the attack from GGY, tracks down Gregory post-SB. But he has to get through Vanessa before he can get to Gregory.
Tony likes to think his detective skills are pretty good. So when he swings a leg over the seat of his bike and wheels it near the entrance, he hopes it's the right place.
He'd tracked down Gregory to this apartment complex somewhere in Gale county. It's still in Hurricane, and Tony had been able to reach it with just a bus ride. The apartment is somewhat run-down, but clean enough to where you can tell it's well kept, just old. The air conditioning units he passes on the way to the front door are brand new.
He'd taken the closest bus to Gale county right after school let out. He'd been restless all day up until finally acting on his findings. Tony has been searching for Gregory for a year. Finally finding something and having to wait for his middle school day to end was agonizing. He just hopes his Mom and Grandma wont be too mad at him.
He'd wrestled his bike he'd ridden to school that day discreetly onto the bus and wedged it in-between his legs and the seat in front of him. The air had been humid and thick all day with the signs of a storm, and Tony had seen the dark clouds and heard the thunder peeking over the treeline outside the bus window on the way here. He ducks inside the front door and beats the rain by seconds.
"Can I help you?" The receptionist asks him, giving him a weird look when he steps inside. Shes a lady with long, styled black hair and covered in jewelry. Tony tries not to look too suspicious as he sends her a polite smile, heading to the elevator on the wall to the left. He would also be wary if someone he'd never seen walked into a resident building.
"Just seeing an old friend." He tells her. He presses the button to the third floor and tries to break her gaze by stepping behind the closing doors. The elevator shakes a bit before moving up.
He tries to take a deep breath. Theres some kind of excitement floating around in his chest at the fact that he's done it, but he pushes it down, lowering his expectations.
Despite his theories, he really has no clue what to expect. Theres some sort of worry mixing with the excitement, and all he decides is that if he escaped once, he can do it again.
It both took too long and not fast enough when he finally reaches the third floor. He double checks his crumpled sheet of notebook paper in his hand once, then a second time, something nervous but anticipating thrumming in his veins.
He steps onto the beige carpet of the long hallway, fresh vacuum marks in it, and follows the number plates by each door before coming to a stop near the middle of the hall.
3-05 The plate reads back to him. He quadruple checks his paper again. Its right.
He sighs out deeply, not even realizing he was holding his breath. Despite himself, his brows crease ever so slightly.
He shakes it away, pushing past it. Maybe digging too deep is what got him into trouble before, but its different now. Tony... Tony's learned things during his search for Gregorys location. If there was any point during his investigation that he would call digging too deep, it would have been months earlier from now.
Besides. Tony has always been bad at staving off his curiosity.
He thunks his knuckles on the white wood of the door quickly after that, three times in succession. He kind of bluescreens for a second when he realizes what he just did, then shakes it off. Waiting with wide eyes at the door, watching for a rattling of a doorknob or listening for incoming footsteps.
Nothing. He waits a few more minutes before knocking again, this time a little louder and harder.
Tony perks up when footsteps finally near the door, and his lips part prematurely when the doorknob rattles, not even put-together words yet on his tongue. They fall away immediately when a woman with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail opens the door, one of those chain locks keeping it open maximum of three inches. "Hello?"
He stutters for a moment, words lost on his tongue, before he clears his throat, putting on a polite smile. "Hi, there." He says. "Um. Who are you?"
"I should be asking you that, kid." The woman raises a brow at him, never opening the door more than the chain lock allows it. She peers at him through the gap, and Tony tries as discreetly as possible to look past her head and shoulder into the apartment itself. "What are you doing here?"
When he looks back, shes still looking at him in a way Tony can only describe as cautious. The light in the hallway on the ceiling is flickering, and it casts split second shadows on the womans face that makes the bags under her eyes that much more prominent and her face that much more intimidating. "Well?"
Tony realizes he hasnt answered, and coughs slighty. "Oh. Sorry." He says, reluctant to continue. "I'm... I'm looking for Gregory."
Tony watches intensely to see if the name rings a bell or catches her attention. Just as he expects, her face twists ever so slightly in recognition. Tony catches something adjacent to panic or fear in her eyes until it's gone not half a second later.
"Who's asking?" She asks eventually, voice carefully even after a what appeared to Tony to be a mini conundrum in her head.
"His friend." He answers honestly. He ducks his head when the woman scrutinizes him, looking almost angry, but restrained enough to not show it. "I mean it," He says earnestly. "he and I... we were best friends. Last year. I came here to look for him."
Her eyes widen ever so slightly at that, and she studies him, eyes flicking back and forth over his face and his clothes and his hair. Tony doesnt miss the way her eyes linger for a millisecond on his scars. Its silent in the hall save for the two looking at eachother, and the buzzing of the flickering light on the ceiling is enough to save him from hearing his own heartbeat.
"Okay." She says eventually, and Tony subconsciously feels himself sag a bit at the relief that he won't turned away right as he was this close. She shuts the door without a word, and all Tony can do is stare at the peeling landlord white paint on the door as the sounds of the woman unlatching the multiple locks on the other side reach his ears. He waits patiently, until she cracks the door open not much wider than it had been with the lock, but just enough to fit his body in. "Come in. But no word to anyone. Got it?"
About what? Tony's about to ask, but then he steps through the door and the words die on his tongue.
"Oh." He says outwardly when Glamrock Freddy Fazbear sits on the couch. His body is adjacent to the patchwork quilt Tony has on his bed that his Grandma made him, and any of the makeup he had been painted with has long since scratched off.
His eyes are shut, and theres two jump cables attached to his ears that are plugged into a portable something. He doesn't so much as twitch when Tony enters the room.
The woman gives him a look after she re-locks only the deadbolt behind him and passes him into the apartment. "Oh." He repeats. "Not a word."
She nods at him, and it's only now that Tony can see the rest of her that isnt just her face. Shes in her twenties, if he had to guess, and she has a white tank top on with some sort of stain near the collar along with Hello Kitty fleece pajama pants. Her socks are mismatched and her nails are painted a purple color that could rival the deep bags under her eyes.
She collapses into an armchair (which hes pretty sure has a mismatched leg attached to it half-hazardously) and only looks at him silently as he steps further into the house, not so discreetly angling his body to get a peek past walls and open doors across the house.
Shes about to speak when Tony does first, "Wheres Greg?" He asks straight up. "Can I see him?"
Her lips twitch, and she just leans further back into the chair. The TV is playing some sort of Spring baking show, and the droning of the host mixes with the pattering of the rain on the window on the wall by the TV.
Anticipation and impatient-ness buzzes under his skin at being right here, and this woman undoubtedly knowing Gregory certainly doesnt help.
She only hesitates for a moment, but Tony can see the influx of thoughts that undoubtedly ran through her mind. She opens her mouth, taking a slow breath, before, "At school."
"He goes to school?" Tony gasps slightly, eyes widening. He moves to the couch, toeing past Freddy Fazbear as to not touch him even with just a brush of his jeans before sitting down, facing her. "What school?"
"He goes to Raindrop." The woman tells him, seemingly not hesitating this time.
It doesn't ring a bell, but it must be a middle school in Gale county. "...I go to Hailstorm." Tony says. "We both did. Or used to."
She stares at him after that, fingers drumming on the arm of her chair. She says nothing, just scrutinizing him, before, "You sure have a lot of cryptic ways of telling me how you used to know Gregory."
He wants to apologize, because it seems like what to do in response to that statement, but for some reason, that feeling in his gut he's learned to trust as his Detective sense tells him that he shouldn't.
Shes still looking at him intensely, and the rain outside pattering on the window somehow feels louder. There's some thunder outside that rumbles the floor, and the lighting casts a shadow on the living room. A few white lines across the coffee table caused by the blinds covering the window.
Her face doesnt so much as twitch, he notices, and she doesn't blink when she looks at him. Her green eyes bore into him, almost glowing in the shadow cast beneath her bangs. It reminds him of how he'd done to her not minutes ago. What he does to people he wants to analyze. To see how they react to something.
That's what shes waiting for, he realizes. He has a feeling that if he doesnt match her cryptic bluntness and instead apologizes and caves that easily, that it will somehow result in her turning him away.
Theres a glint in her eye when he becomes aware of reality again enough to look, and he thinks she somehow just came to the conclusion that Tony figured it out.
Then, he tries to sit up a bit straighter, and muster up that same glint mirroring back at him. "You sure have a cryptic way of letting me know you dont trust me."
Her mouth twitches slightly, but its all Tony needs to know he'd guessed correctly.
Its silent for a moment, and the woman grabs the remote on the next arm over and pauses the baking show she'd been watching. She shifts in the red velvet seat, as if getting comfortable, before, "Tell me how you know Gregory, and I'll tell you how I know him."
He has a feeling he isnt getting to Gregory unless he gets through this woman first, so he clears his throat, leaning his forearms on his knees.
"Me and Gregory met early last year at the beginning of the school year." He begins. "Right after summer ended in August. He was the new kid, and he sat at our table at lunch since it was mostly empty. Me and my friend arent the most popular, so there was room to spare."
She waves a hand, signaling him to stop. "Your friend?" She asks. He nods. "How many of there were you?"
"...Just me and E-- my friend." He says. "There were two of us, and when Greg sat at our table, we remembered how he looked a little lost earlier in class and we introduced ourselves. Then we just... clicked, I guess. He would partner with us in creative writing."
"Writing, huh?" She smiles slightly.
"Yeah." He replies. "Then, it was just business as usual for the months afterwards." He pauses, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket he loves so much that reminds him of the trenchcoats big city investigators wear. "Then... I had gotten wrapped up in this mystery."
She shifts, crossing a leg over the over and holding her hands together. "A mystery?"
Tony nods, remembering it like it was yesterday. He thumbs the part of arm where a scar is on his arm that his jacket covers. "The three of us would always go to the arcade in the Pizzaplex." He tells her. "And one day, I noticed high scores that seemed impossible to reach, and I became obsessed with solving who it was who had gotten there."
Tony thinks hes very good at reading people. So he doesn't think it's just his imagination when the woman in front of him goes a little rigid in her seat.
Theres some sort of creases under her eyes, Tony notices, that weren't there before.
"What did you do?" She asks.
Tony has a feeling that she somehow knows already. So he doesnt beat around the bush.
"I solved the mystery, eventually." Tony says. "Because GGY had been Gregory, and he'd invited me to the Pizzaplex and tried to kill me."
She sags a bit, looking somehow infinitely more tired, but no surprise detected. "But you survived."
"Not..." He shakes his head, picking at the skin by his fingernails. "I wouldn't have. If not for Greg saving me."
"Huh?"
"He--" Tony searches for the words, looking at the carpet between his knees and remembering that afternoon in every vivid detail he'd looked over countless times before. "He'd tried to kill me, yeah, but... he was almost fighting himself as he did it. He was like having a fistfight with himself."
He doesn't look up at her, he just keeps remembering how Gregory had gone rigid right before plunging the knife into Tony's gut a second time and stopped himself. How it had looked like somebody yanked Gregory backwards, but it had been his own self throwing his body. Just so he didnt hurt Tony again.
"He looked like he was a malfunctioning robot." He recalls. "He was like, hitting himself, and was making noises like he was fighting something. I was too frozen to move at the time, but then he threw me a really high security pass for the Pizzaplex and told me to run."
Then he had collapsed in front of him, like he was holding himself down. He doesn't tell the woman, though.
He looks back up to see her staring, eyes wide in suprise. She looks deep in thought for all but a few moments before shaking herself out of it. "So what did you do?"
"I ran." Tony says. "He had got me already. He stabbed me in the back, the first time. That was how I knew he was attacking me in the first place. But I ran away with the pass, and I went to a room with a ton of monitors and erased the security footage."
Her eyes blow wide as saucers, that time. "You got stabbed," she begins. "and instead of getting help, you erase the security footage?"
"Yeah." Tony nods. "Greg would have gotten in trouble if I didnt."
She's silent, after that. Tony just keeps picking at the skin on his fingers. "I somehow knew that Gregory didnt deserve to be. He just..." Tony trails off. "He didnt seem..."
"Seem like himself?" She suddenly cuts in, and Tony's eyes widen.
He nods, a small tilt of his head, and the woman sighs. "That's what being mind controlled will do to you."
A year ago, probably longer by now, Tony would have never believed that. He would have never thought something so outlandish that is only ever shown in fiction could be a possibility.
Not that he was wrong, to. Really, anyone in their right mind wouldnt think so. But things have changed since then.
And Tony has seen a lot of things during his search that probably nobody else has. Plus, This woman has been so cryptic up to this point. If she told him this straight up, and it's clear that she knows Gregory...
Suddenly, everything that day seems to make perfect sense. And everything he'd found that he'd filed away into his little mental Gregory crazy wall.
(He'd used to call it evidence wall, like normal people do. But, well, at some point, maybe Tony had thought the things he'd been finding were a bit too crazy to deem as normal.)
Theres been a stretch of silence while Tony had been taking that in, and he only breaks it to say, "Is mind control a topic you're familiar with in this house?"
Her eye twitches, a bit. And now that Tony is looking for it, he notices that same strange sheen on her eyes that Gregory had during their friendship. That weird red tinted film that makes their eyes turn a completely different color when the light hits them right.
Tony doesnt yet understand how the mind control Gregory had been under works, but all he can hope is that there are some side effects.
She stares at him, eyes narrow, and theres another roar of thunder outside the window.
"Who are you?"
"Tony." He answers. "Tony Becker. Ring a bell?"
She hums, and she looks at him in a way where he feels like he's being dissected.
"He didnt remember anything for a while." She says eventually. "But hes been having dreams, lately. Sometimes he talks about two kids he used to be friends with."
"Me and Ellis." Tony's eyes widen. It doesn't even occur to him that he shouldn't share Ellis's name.
"He worries about you." She says. "I've heard him say he hopes you're okay. You and that other kid. You must have been close if he remembers being that good of friends with the two of you."
"We were." Tony replies. Memories of him, Ellis, and Greg going to the Pizzaplex and trying to get the most dunks in the basketball hoops flash in his mind. He thinks about when Gregory would come over to Tony's little run down house that he shares with his Grandma, and they write graphic novels together for the fun of it.
Gregory liked to call them comics before he'd suddenly decided that stuff wasnt cool anymore and stopped coming over. It had been like everything Tony saw him enjoy that wasnt painfully average for a child suddenly didn't mean anything to him anymore.
And then Gregory tried to kill him in a dusty back room.
Everything hed given up seems to make more sense now. It wasnt willingly at all.
"He doesn't remember your names." She speaks up suddenly, ripping Tony out of his thoughts. "But he remembers more and more every time he has a dream. Something reminded him of you one day, I guess. That must have been when it started."
Tony opens his mouth, but the beeping of a digital clock interrupts him. He follows the womans arm as it reaches across the seat to turn it off.
The time reads 5:00pm.
He watches as she looks over at him, and nods to the door. "After school activity." She informs him, getting up out of the seat. His eyes follow her as she moves towards the front door. "I'm his ride."
Tony's eyes widen at the implications. "So I just--"
"Stay here." She tells him. She grabs a flannel off of the small coat rack by the front door and slips it on, sliding some Adidas sandals on top of her socks and reaching in the pocket of the coat to grab car keys. She pulls them out, and Tony notices that theres a keychain of a white rabbit dangling from the key ring.
The breath is suddenly stolen from his lungs, and he bolts off of the couch, a buzzing under his skin. "You're bringing him?"
She nods to Freddy Fazbear. "If you can wait." She smiles at him, and it's the first time Tony has seen her smile, instead of the carefully kept nonchalant-ness. "He'll wake up pretty soon once he's done charging. So you won't be completely alone."
Tony doesnt know what to say to that. Thousands of words spawned from the thousands of thoughts hes had about finding and tracking down Gregory are on the tip of his tongue, but he only gets any out when the woman begins to leave the house.
"Wait!" Tony reaches out a hand. She turns around, a brow raised. The door is still slightly ajar, and the sound of heavy rain reaches his ears. "What's your name?"
She smiles a bit at the question. "Vanessa."
"Vanessa," He asks, oddly desperate. "Dont tell him I'm here." He swallows. "I want to see him remember me."
Vanessa tilts her head, but nods after a moment. "Sure, kid."
She smiles one last time on her way out, and says, "Tony Becker."
The sound of the rain outside disperses when the door shuts and locks, and Tony doesnt move for a long while. He just stares at the landlord white door, electricity under his skin and something floaty in his stomach.
Greg. He thinks in his mind when he finally rips himself away and looks around some more, seeing a door propped slightly open down the hall with a bed and a desk with pencils and paper strewn all about. He doesn't dare go in, but stares at what he can see. Its been a while.
The silence is numbing, when he can only hear the faint whirring of Freddy Fazbear on the couch next to him and the rain on the window, he plants himself on the couch cushion next to the animatronic, grabbing the remote and resuming the baking show Vanessa had been watching.
He doesn't listen to a word. He just trembles with anticipation and bobs his leg up and down as he stares at a random corner of the screen.
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i read a hannigram fic last night where op decided it was an okay thing to mention vatsyayana and my brain chemistry is fucked now.
#raj shitposting#afghdaklkjfdakjfgaskjgf#so for context i read the kamasutra as a joke earlier last month and istg i was not expecting what i read.#bro- listen i thought it'd be about heterosexual sex only but it's really not specified IN SO MANY PLACES IT MAKES ME WANNA YELL.#there's this entire section in the text about scents. now idk how many of y'all know seema anand but you should def check out her tedtalk.#because she kinda boils it down to the very basics with the best examples for all of those who do not want their brain chemistry altered.#and that was what got me into her stuff and i read the arts of seduction a couple years back but i wasn't unhinged back then-#-so i forgot all about it until like a month or so back when i came across a video of hers on yt and damn those floodgates BROKE man.#which lead to me finally putting my foot down and reading that shit and JESUS FUCKING CHRIST-#so back to where we were. there's this entire section about scents alright? and we all know where this is going so bear with me please.#so this section talks about how different scents stimulate excitement and how different parts of the body should be scented.#like seema anand does NOT warn you about how fucking DETAILED this shit is in the original text. AT ALL.#it's got i think somewhere around 600 different scents and the optimum intensity of the scents for like IDK TURNING INTO A MONSTER.#so like when i read the fic my brain thought HEY THESE ARE TWO UNHEALTHY OBSESSIONS OF THIS FUCKING SICKO THAT SHOULD ALIGN RIGHT? BOOM.#and i imagined post fall will experimenting with scents for fun and shit because why not who's to stop him at this point in his life?#and then my brain flashed me a very vivid image of hannibal BURYING his face into will's waist to smell the perfume he put there-#and then my brain short circuited because that is too powerful an image for a mortal brain to comprehend.#i don't think anyone will understand what the fuck it is that i'm on about but y'all should watch that ted talk.#and get ahold of the nearest fic writer you know and force them to write a fic on this BECAUSE THIS IS THE PROMPT THEY'VE BEEN WAITING FOR.#this is actual psychosexual bullshit and istg i've had SO MANY vivid dreams ABOUT SCENTS ALONE it's making me lose my fucking mind.#GAAAAAAAAAAAAH#hannigram#hannibal
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blueaphelion · 2 years
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Wake up!
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My Rebels Minibang 2022 fic is now LIVE!
“Running All Night”
In which Ezra makes a pit stop in Anchorhead after meeting Obi-Wan in “Twin Suns” and meets a certain farm boy.
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Mine’s the only fic in the event rated Explicit 🔥
@star-wars-rebel-minibang
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alildritten · 7 months
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Ah yes, the scariest story of all:
G A Y
(/j)
#alright time for context in the tags!! your favorite show!!! yippee!#yeah so anyway basically i was thinking up fictional scenarios with my ocs (of course as always)#and i was thinking about hey! so what about this werewolf character. yknow? silver? what if we thought about when they were a little kid#and stuff. you know? why not and all and so i was having fun with that thinking about how theyd have had to keep their werewolf-ness#a secret. but their parents know and are trying to keep it a secret as well and what-not#and one day silver gets invited to a sleepover. yknow. at night. theyre a werewolf??? that wouldnt go well#other than the fact that they can control that wolf form?? (i need to figure out what to call it)#so itd be fine but its supposed to be a secret because if people knew silver would be reported to the authorites because in that universe#humans do exist they just kicked any weird hybrid or beast or whatever off onto another planet#jokes on them the little beasties are doing fine and after a bit of adjusting and working on fitting into the new world#that theywere forced onto with no way back#they have a whole civilization and are doing great!!! but everytime that the humans on their world realize someones like. a werewolf or#a vampire or anything. WELP BYE-BYE HAVE A NICE TRIP#and well theres a new orphan in town on the other world! well heck hopefully they live alright and maybe get adopted?#BUT ANYWAY OFF TRACK WHOOPS so basically silvers parents are like ‘no. you cant’ but silver’s friends had asked several times in the past#and really wanted to have a sleepover with silver. idk and so basically silver writes a note saying ‘hey i did go sorry bout that-#dont worry i got it covered i can keep my wolf formt hing hidden no worries’ or something basically says that and goes to the sleepover#(friends think silver finally got permission) and wow i just realized this is a long story heck lemme try and shorten a little#and eventually at one point they all wanna tell scary stories cause why not#and once i got there my brain kinda kept pausing and then swoosh new train thought woahh!!#and started thinking about a cute scenario about two ocs of mine who are VERY GAY hehe <3#but i thought it was a bit funny because i realized that i was about to have some lil kids tell each other scary stories and then woop brain#go hey think about this cute gay scenario!! so ah yes. cute gay scenario=SCARY (/j)#does this even make any sense at all i genuinely dont know but i had fun talking about ocs so yea ima sleep now#have a good day/night to you!!! <333 YIPPEE anyway bye bye goodnight bla bla bla woohoo
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theflyingfeeling · 7 months
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me in the Olli/Allu delelu land trying to explain how Olli acting weird and Aleksi suddenly smoking and them secretly glancing at each other must be all connected somehow
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because they ARE!! 😭 we may be yet to connect the dots, but we're getting there okay, we're not crazy 😤
(don't forget the sunglasses!! I haven't figured out how but I just know they're somehow relevant in all this as well 😤 he just seems weirdly attached to them (and the bandana around his neck which he's been wearing in literally every picture we've seen of him for almost two weeks now?? not counting the pictures taken in the pool) like, did he pay and arm an a leg for them (I'm not sure if he's worn that exact pair before? I may be wrong though lol I often am with stuff like this) and justified the purchase to himself by swearing he'd wear them every chance he gets for the rest of the year lol
#the rest goes in the tags because okay fine i MAY be just a little bit crazy sdgjsdjgsgdsg but hear me out alright#let's say aleksi used to smoke but quit because it's unhealthy#now why do people usually relapse with smoking?#for fun ig but he's said many times he's trying to be healthier. dude won't drink pepsi with caffeine in it but cigarettes are fine? 🙄#sure the reasons are individual but at least in my mother's case it was often when she felt stressed out about random shit#so perhaps aleksi took up smoking again because something's stressing him out / making him anxious / worrying him#it could be the tour but it's not like they haven't been on tour in the US before so why would he be particularly stressed out about that?#could be something work-related but unrelated to the band. a project he had to put on hold because of the tour?#because from what i've understood the HU supporting gig happened on quite a short notice#tbh that alone could very legitimately be a cause of stress on its own. not enough time to prepare? not enough time to spend with the fam?#(perhaps if you weren't streaming every other evening...🙄)#or maybe he's just jetlagged and nicotine is his remedy of choice?#ooooooorrr it could be something related to his personal life. hard to say what though. a sudden change? general anxiety?#he doesn't /seem/ particularly anxious though but the hell would i know#so... aleksi taking up bad habits + olli's weird behaviour + secret glances and maybe low-key avoiding each other = ???#my theory is still that they hooked up and are now forced to deal with the consequences 😶#''how are they avoiding each other exactly?'' one might ask and worry not! i am prepared for counterarguments! ☝️#to put it briefly: the delulu in me says so 😌#(this applies to everything i wrote above 😂 i'm writing this just for my and y'all's entertainment you know)#ollixallu#answered asks#sparfloxacin
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flysafepapi · 2 years
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siren song 6/?
masterlist
Fandom: Peaky Blinders
Summary: He remembers the scent of her perfume, something that smelled strongly of rose, as she carefully closed the small window in the bedroom and crossed herself, whispering words under her breath that were too soft and quick for him to hear. His mother had turned and smiled at him, and even at that age he could see that she was trying to hide something behind it. Her voice had been shaky, whether with fear or anger he still doesn’t know, when she told him that he was going to be safe. The thought of asking what he was safe from hadn’t occurred to him at the time but he thinks he knows, now.
Tagging: @the-makingsofgreatness​​ @zablife​​ @lyarr24​ (just let me know if you want to be added on or taken off)
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It’s easier than Tobias thought it would be, to work at least semi-functionally while Sofia sits at the bar with her head resting on her hands while she watches his every move like she’s never seen someone working behind a bar before. It’s a carefully planned move to get under his skin, he’s watched her do the exact same thing to Arianne before, so it would be easy to ignore if he wasn’t so tense he could pass for a statue every time the doors open. It’s going to Tommy on the other side eventually, and while he pours drinks he tries to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable.
“Back again already?”
“Sorry?”
Tobias glances up from the double he’s pouring and curses silently to himself when John steps through the door with Arthur not far behind, both of them looking like they’ve already been at the drink for a good hour already. It’s not an uncommon sight, and they don’t even have to ask before Tobias is turning around and pulling the bottles of whiskey down, along with two clean glasses. 
“You didn’t show up last night.”
“Right. Yes, much better. It must’ve been just a twenty-four hour sickness.”
“Don’t be rude, Tobias, introduce me.”
It takes every bit of the willpower he’s learnt over his many years to stop himself from reacting outwardly. Sofia grins at him, utterly unconcerned and clearly thoroughly enjoying this, and turns towards John with a smile. 
“Best customers, more like,” he mutters under his breath, unheard by everyone except Sofia, and trains his eyes on the glasses and not the complete disaster of a scene that’s unfolding in front of him. Objectively, he knows that Sofia is an exceptionally attractive woman, and this isn’t a new thing, but it’s one thing to hear about it and another thing to witness it happen with people he’s friendly with.
“You’ve been holding out on us, keeping this beautiful woman away.”
“I think you’ll find I’ve been sparing you.”
“What are you drinking?”
The smile that Sofia gives has, Tobias knows, been the last thing some people have ever seen, and John’s own smile falters for a second as if he can sense that there’s something wrong happening here but can’t quite figure out what. It could be anything, really; the coldness of Sofia’s hand in his, the fact that her eyes are darker because she hasn’t fed recently, the unnatural sharpness of her teeth.
“I think I’m craving something red.”
“Sofia.”
“Don’t worry, Tobias. I won’t indulge too much.”
“Nothing wrong with-”
For a second, the entire room seems to freeze when the doors open again. Sofia eyes him curiously when she notices his slight pause, quickly putting two and two together, and she makes a small noise in the back of her throat when she figures it out.
“Evening, Mr Shelby.”
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This is, hands down, one of the worst nights of Tobias’ life. He’s sitting in the small room, sandwiched in between Arthur and Sofia, desperately wishing he was anywhere else but here. Tommy looks vaguely amused at his distress, which should be irritating, but he has to bite down on his tongue to keep the slight smile off his face. Considering the smug look Sofia sends him, he fails completely.
“I’m only in the city for one night, so of course I had to meet all the friends Tobias has been making. He’s always been very solitary. We were all surprised to hear that he finally settled in one place.”
“We?”
“Our parents and siblings. There are a lot of us but we don’t see each other much, usually we communicate through letters if we need to. I’m on my way to meet up with a sister of ours, so we can travel together.”
“How many is a lot?”
Eight, with the recent addition of William. The agreed upon date for all of them to make the voyage home is fast approaching, and he’s not looking forward to it. They’ve settled somewhere in America, last he heard, and his last few trips there had been less than pleasant. He’ll still make the trip regardless.
“There are eight of us, and our parents. Of course, there’s also going to be wives, husbands, children.”
“Jesus. I thought the house was full enough with five of us.”
“It’s certainly never boring. So, Tommy, you’re the one that Tobias sent-”
“Shouldn’t you be leaving? You’ll miss your train.”
Sofia gives him a look, telling him that she knows exactly what he’s doing, but plays along this time. 
“Of course. I must have lost track of time. It’s been nice meeting you all, I hope I see you again the next time I’m in the area. Tobias, walk me outside?”
It’s phrased like a question but he knows it’s not, and he follows her through the doors and down the street a little, just out of earshot for anyone that might be listening.
“Satisfied now?”
“He seems a little broody, but I can see the appeal. Not someone I would pick for myself, but-”
“Don’t tell them yet.”
“They’ll want to know. This isn’t just a minor slip-up, Tobias. This is serious.”
“I know. I’ll tell them, I promise. Just let me do that in my own time.”
For a second, he’s sure that she’ll say no, but eventually she sighs and nods like Tobias knew she would. Ever since they met, they’ve always looked out for each other, regardless of the situation. He loves the family he’s found, the family that found him more accurately, but the bond he shares with Sofia has always been just that little bit stronger. 
“Fine. Fine, they won’t hear a word about it from me, but you better figure this out soon. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Good. Alright, I really do have to go. You’ll be alright here?”
“I will. I’ll see you in three months, just like we all promised.”
He stays outside for a few more minutes after she’s gone, watching until long after she’s disappeared from sight down the road, and when he walks back inside it’s to Arthur and John putting their coats back on. 
“Where are you going?”
“Wherever the night takes us, Tobias. Adventure is calling!”
“I think that’s a hangover calling, but each to their own.”
He waves a hand when they leave, getting to work on cleaning up the place. There’s still glasses sitting on most of the tables so he tackles those first, gathering them all up into his arms carefully and carrying them over to the sink. The bubbles fill the sink quickly, and it doesn’t sound like any glasses break when he submerges them into the water this time, which is a small victory.
“She seemed nice.”
“She is.”
Tobias doesn’t turn around. The screech that the ancient tap makes when he turns the water off makes him cringe, grating in his ears like nails on a chalkboard. 
“You never answered my question.”
“Which one?”
“Why all the gifts?”
There are a lot of ways he could answer. He could divert the question again and turn the conversation around to something else. He could say that he has no idea what Tommy is talking about. He could reach out and make sure Tommy’s dead long before he hits the floor, though that’s just a more extreme version of the avoidance option. He could tell the truth.
“I sent them because I wanted to.”
“Why?”
“Does there have to be a reason?”
Tommy scoffs, “There’s always a reason.”
Behind him, the bubbles pop softly, and Tobias does what he’s always done. He risks it all on a gamble.
“Come with me.”
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“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“No. You’ll have to wait and find out when we get there.”
The alleys and streets are easy to navigate, he’s been up and down them enough times to almost have them memorised, and remembering the way back to the house he’s been living in had been his first priority when he got here. It’s about the time of the night when most people are already home safe in their beds, or on their way to doing just that, and the main sound that echoes against the brick walls is their footsteps. He keeps the door locked, and it only takes a second to unlock the door and open it to the darkness that lays on the other side.
“After you.” Tobias gestures towards the doorway, and laughs at the sceptical look Tommy throws him. “Calm down, I didn’t go through all this trouble to lure you here just to kill you. I’ll go first.”
Inside, the darkness is so complete that it’s hard for even Tobias to see anything, but he knows where to do and finds the stairs easily. Behind him, he can hear the sound of Tommy’s heartbeat. The rhythm has remained fairly steady until now, and it picks up more and more the further up the stairs they go.
“Here we are.”
“It’s a room.”
“Oh, ye of little faith.” He reaches out and takes Tommy by the shoulders, carefully manoeuvring him through the pitch black room until he’s standing more or less in the middle of the space. “Stay right here.”
“Where are you going?”
“Not far.”
He hears Tobias’ footsteps walking somewhere away to his left and shifts slightly but stays in place. There’s a strange sort of fear that comes from not being able to see a thing about where you are. Someone could be waiting three feet away with a hatchet and he wouldn’t be able to know until the first strike. After a few seconds, Tobias stops walking and Tommy hears him shifting things around instead. Boxes, by the sound of the scraping along the concrete.
“Ready?”
He has to raise an arm up to shield his eyes from the sudden light and even then it takes him a few minutes to blink away the spots dancing in his vision. When they’re gone, faded enough to be able to see, he lowers his arm and looks around the room. What he thought was Tobias turning the light on are actually windows, dozens and dozens and dozens of them lining the walls to the point that there’s more glass than brick.
Most of them are tilted, both backwards and forwards, so the moonlight reflects off of them and across to the window opposite, lighting the entire room up like it’s daylight. It’s the closest Tobias has gotten to daylight in a long time.
“It took a long time to figure out the exact angles. A lot of trial and error, a few cases of almost blinding myself when it reflected right in my eyes. As far as I know, no one else really comes up here. If they do, they haven’t touched any of the windows or these.” He lifts up the heavy covers he uses to cover the windows on the nights he feels like sleeping in this room. “I didn’t think anyone would be, I rent this place from a delightful old man, but it can’t hurt to take precautions.
“Why?”
“Why not? Not everything that makes people happy has to be explained. People pick flowers because they enjoy the scent, they read books because they like following along on someone else’s exciting adventures, they eat things they probably shouldn’t because they taste good. But in addition to that, there’s someone who plants the flowers because someone they love enjoys the smell. There’s someone who writes the books, and cooks the food.”
He pauses for a second, but when it becomes clear that Tommy isn’t going to say anything, he keeps talking.
“I used to draw when I was young. I’m sure I was no great talent back then, but my mother would exclaim over every piece of art of mine that she saw like it was a long lost painting from a long-dead artist. Drawing was something I liked to do, and it was made better by how much she enjoyed them.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“So you’ll understand.”
Though all the carefully adjusted windows reflect light from the moon and each other, lighting up the room in a cascade of light that Tobias can safely walk through without the threat of dying, the usual awe he feels in seeing it pales so completely to the sight of the light playing over Tommy’s face when he turns that it freezes him in place for a second.
“Understand what?”
“You wanted to know why I sent you the flowers. It’s the same reason why I drew for my mother. Just like why mothers knit clothes for their children, or why wives bake sweet things for their husbands. We all want to see the people we care about be happy.”
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rosesradio · 1 year
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i: a scrapbook, worn and hoarded selfishly, because i cannot let go, though i have nothing to add. the picture inside the display has changed, though your letter remains; in the pocket of my journal, with countless others from countless others.
you: a donation box, with little hesitation. you told me once that letting go was hard; though as soon as you no longer heard my voice, you no longer heard my song. and my letter, my loving, lengthy response, ashes mingling with the dirt where it belongs.
#poetry#i guess--feel free to make fun of me lol just being a silly goose--#i guess i no longer care in a sense but i still keep things. i don't know how i'm supposed to feel about keeping things#but my ex wrote me a letter and i still have it. but the one i gave to him. when we kinda reunited. he said he burned it.#and obviously i was hurt but i was so desperate for company i forgave him. and we had a good time#and then when we drifted apart the second time. he unliked my spotify playlist. which sounds really stupid lmao but hold on#the playlist was for my novel i'm writing. it's a whole thing. he's the first person i told about it and read some to#and he really liked it. my mom said i was 'putting too much into it' like fantasy and romance...as if every book doesn't have that...#he gave me songs for the playlist and we talked for hours and i wrote a lot to read to him. and then when everything stopped with us i kinda#stopped writing it. and he still had the playlist saved i guess which was fine. the sorta split was mutual and amicable i guess#but to see he unsaved it kinda hurt because it's like he didn't believe in me anymore? but i'm sure it's not that#maybe he just got a new girlfriend lol. i'm pretty sure that's why he burned my letter#but#i'm sure if i texted him things would have been great for a little while. but then i'd just give him another piece of my heart--#and get burned again so. it's for the best#but i'm alright now. just reflecting#tw vent#(just in case)#rose.txt
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soyoursoulisgreen · 6 months
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3, 4, 19, 20!
3. What ideas come from when you were little
I have two OCs that have really stood the test of time: Akane and Kin - though their names have changed over time haha ♪ They were the first ever queer couple I made, long long loooong before I was out even to myself and shock among shocks, they're angels lol ♥ I remember I even wrote a short story about them from like - middle school probably?? as part of an assignment haha. They've been with me for a loooong time, and I'm still very fond of them 💕
4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw
GLaDOS is so beautiful and I am so bad at drawing machine parts jfdklsasdf. I'm determined to draw her from both games now tho! Her design in Portal 1 is so weird!! <3
19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)
Plushies, no contest. Drawings the seams and darts and stitches and wear and fluff and fabric vs. fur I just ugh it's all so satisfying! The way the cloth folds over itself or stands firm on its own over well-stuffed filling! I love plushies!! Funny enough, I rarely use them as props tho haha - that's usually things like books, cups, pencils, etc.
20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy
I haven't heard the complaint in earnest in a while, just in a jokey fashion, but I really really enjoy drawing hands :) Hand expressions are so fun to me! They're just as expressive as faces - especially masked characters haha - and they're so versatile! Come in so many shapes, some hard, some rubberhose wiggly, some sharp and Shaped, but they still all emote similarly. Even just slight position changing can change the temperature of how it reads! It's a challenge for sure but it's just so satisfying >:3c
#Woah an original post#Ask#Ask me#Thank you! :D Fun fun!!#I always love talking about my own lads hehe <3 <3#If I had to guess a year to put to Akane and Kin oh gosh hmm...#Somewhere around 2008/9 if I had to guess?? It's hard to keep track from before I was online haha and I joined kind of late#I've had them for a heck-while! I love them ♥ It's not shown in their tag I linked but I also made some Aarakocran versions of them haha#I still have a lot of the journals and stuff from when I was a kid but none of them have been as long-lasting#I think it's probably because I was very ''inspired'' by what I was reading at that time - which was mostly high school romance lol#Aya and Haruka are almost more like self-parody of that haha - not many characters survived from that time#But Akane and Kin were always in that vague sort of adults sort of teens haze that lets them convert over easily#Their problems weren't related to school or anything so it makes them more versatile :)#I wonder if I still have their short stories anywhere - I also cried while writing one of them lol I've always been the sensitive type haha#Sorry if GLaDOS is the obvious answer lol but it's true! I'm slowly improving but she really is difficult to pin down#Any kind of machinery my brain just blanks out lol. ''It is shaped'' ''How?'' ''Yes'' Pfft#Also rude to imply nature is inanimate! I almost mistakenly said tree but they are animate! They're very alive!#But that's alright - I like drawing trees but I don't very often haha#I really do love drawing plushies tho I lose my mind about them they're so cute <3 Send me pictures of your plushies I will love them /gen#And for hands I mean - I've been enjoying drawing them for so long that it almost feels like the Curse of Knowledge lol#Do people genuinely struggle with hands?? I mean I still do at times - especially closed fists or certain angles#But in general? When they're just hanging out and being silly fruity little appendages?#Or with ASL or the like ♥ They're so fun! My latests have been working with more knuckles than usual haha it feels weird#I never have to worry about same face syndrome with hands! They really feel so intuitively individual haha
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luveline · 8 months
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble
sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.
luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader
James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you." 
He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.
"It's not about irritating me," you say. 
"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet." 
"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?" 
"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose." 
What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed. 
James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs. 
"You alright?" the smoother asks.
You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden." 
"Lovely."
"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?" 
James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you. 
"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both. 
Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.
"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small. 
"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table. 
Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach. 
Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you. 
You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer. 
"And what do you do?" you ask him. 
He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book." 
"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.
"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while. 
James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."
"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you. 
"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand. 
Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.
"Woah," James says, beaming.  
Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile. 
"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick." 
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