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pablitogavii · 6 months

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So... Gavi just got his surgery and thank god it's success. I think the reader is taking care of him after his surgery still at hospital and at home will be the major fluff <33

Hospital Bed

She was with me through it all, sleepless nights at home prior to surgery, anxiety about the outcome and now in the hospital bed awaiting my recovery.

My injury was hard on her most of all, because she was always scared of my way of playing and possibly getting hurt that way.

I would always tell her to be tranquilla and that I will be just fine..until now. She had to watch that on the tv screen and the rest of the night was awake until I arrived home.

It wasn't based on rules allowed for her to stay but when doctors saw her laying in my arms finally asleep after days of worrying about him.

"Tan monos..need to give you IV" nurse said smiling at your sleeping face while quietly renewing Gavi's port. Then Belen and Aurora came in placing the blanket on top of both of you.

"Pedri and Laporte wanted to come check on you today cariño.." Belen said and Pablo nodded kissing the top of your head making his mom smile.

"We'll leave you two to rest..want me to bring you anything from home later??" she asked and Pablo gave her a list of things he wanted feeling really scared in the whole hospital setting.

Another hour passed as my friends walked in and I showed them to be quiet cause she was still sleeping. They smiled at two of us nodding and speaking quietly. She moved a little and he placed my hand on her head playing with her her to lull her back to sleep.

"Y/N seems very tired..must of been terrified for you??" Pedri asked and he nodded explaining how she refused to sleep until my surgery was done.

You slowly woken up hearing other voices nuzzling your face into Pablo neck while yawning before rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"H..hey guys..why didn't you wake me up?" you said and everyone said it was alright and that you slept very cutely in your boyfriend's arms. Made you blush.

"Did they come for your IV??" you ask little lost in time and Pablo giggled saying that was hours ago.

"How long did I slept??" you ask and he said making you shocked and sit up to stretch up a bit and drink some water.

"We will leave you two alone, lovebirds..see you soon Pablo" they said waving and leaving the room while the two of you stood there looking at each other with bright smiles.

"You did look so cute..sleeping in your boyfriends arms" he said and you blushed laying back down and kissing his cheeks lovingly.

"Hmm I love my boyfriend very much" you said and Pablo chuckled kissing the top of your head gently.

"How are you feeling Pablito??" you ask and he reassured you that everything is alright now.

"We're already leaving the hospital tomorrow" he said and you smiled looking up at him still with sad eyes wondering when will he really be alright again.

"Pablito..?" you said and he looked down at you with furrowed eyebrows.

"Promise me you won't try to speed up this recovery..that you will let yourself fully heal?" you say and he smiles knowing that you know him very well. If he could he would already be back on that pitch playing football. But he knew you and his family worried.

"I promise, mi amor..not until you give me okay?" he smiled and you as well leaning up and kissing his lips lovingly.

"Can I tell you something preciosa??" he said and you nodded

"I hate hospital beds..being here alone would have drove me crazy..thank you for not leaving me" he said and you pouted nodding your head.

"We're in this together Pablito..siempre" you said and he leaned down to capture another kiss from your soft lips.

"Siempre, mi amor.." he said and it really ended up being like that. Next eight months you were his biggest supporter..helping with his physical therapy..being there to listen when he got bored or annoyed..stayed home with him whenever school was out and allowed him to lean on you this time. Pablo really much appreciated having you in his corner..and recovered fully with your help.

#gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barcelona #fc barca #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #gavi x vini #gavi x yn #gavi x you #gavi x reader #pablo gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #pablogavixreaderfluff #pablogavira #pablogavixreadersmut

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hyukaslvr · 2 months

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strong enough | J. Jungkook (2)

<series masterlist

pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader

genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut

warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds

w.c: aproxx 10.2k

series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.

a/n at very bottom!

the mirrors of your practice room were foggy, the heat radiating off of your whole groups bodies as you worked your hardest to perfect all the choreographies to your newest album. you worked especially hard since last week, you took a long time to really think about what happened.

“we both know you’re just as messy,” Jungkook spat at you, you bit back your tears and fought your conscience screaming at you to walk away. this isn’t something you would just walk away from, not with your boosting ego.

“this is why we won’t work out, Jungkook, you’re acting like a bitch. fix yourself, i’ll fix me. i thought you were doing better, but it seems like you’re still the dick you were during all our fucking arguments,” you grabbed your belongings and starting walking away from his frozen figure, his words hitting him like a brick in the face. you came out here with him hoping you could talk to him, make him remember the reason why you weren’t communicating things or in contact, but he just proved to you why you shouldn’t have came.

Jungkook sat back down, right where you sat, thinking over things. anytime he would see you, he felt this rage build up inside of him. the rage coming from nowhere, yet appearing whenever your pretty face shows up in his sight. he hates it. he swore to control his anger, the way he acted when things didn’t go his way, but apparently anger management isn’t enough for him.

it’s not that he hates you, he adores you, he loves you. but sometimes, he feels like he can’t stand you. you act like you have everything in your life sorted out, when you don’t, not without him. it might be toxic of him to think of you that way, but it’s true. you know it’s true, deep inside and past your wall that you’ve built up for no one to see behind your cute personality set for the stage. only he knows the real you, at least he thinks, and he knows you have a shit ton of problems just like him.

Jungkook clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white at the thought of how he spoke to you. you don’t deserve that, but at the same time, he rightfully believes you need someone to put you in your place sometimes. but at the same time, you wish someone would knock some sense into Jungkook and make him grow up, even if he grew up way to fast, he still is childish as ever when it comes to talking about things.

you snapped out of your state of thought as one of your members patted your back, telling you to drink up some water before starting again. you wiped your face with a towel before gulping down half of your bottle, tossing it on the floor, and starting up again. thank god that you have therapy tomorrow, you thought as you stand in position once again, waiting for the music to start up.

“he said that to you?” your therapist questioned, jotting down notes quickly so you can speak more about how you felt during that moment. you felt angry, sad, all of the above. out of all people you thought would understand, Jungkook was the one you felt would. yet, he opens his mouth and speaks mean words towards you like he always did when he was struggling, never able to control what he says. but who were you to talk, you did the same things, but you were for sure better at controlling it.

“i thought we were ready to talk about why we actually broke up, i thought i was to say at the least, he for sure wasn’t,” you sighed, picking at your skin around your fresh pedicured nails out of habit. it breaks your heart, seeing him that way, he only acts like that when he’s in a deep place. you can visualize him going home, and immediately changing into work out clothes, beating on his punching back until the chain gives out, his knuckles bleeding with open wounds.

but then again, who’s ever ready to talk about a long relationship ending? at the time, walking to the park in the freezing cold, you felt ready. you walked high and proud as you were side by side with the man whose heart you constantly break. maybe he did have the right to act that way, but it still hurts coming from him. yeah, you had to figure out your shit, but so did he, so him acting like that felt hypocritical.

“darling, no one is ever ready to talk about why relationships end the way they end,” she starts again, it’s was like she was reading your mind as you sat there quietly in thought, “maybe you should of waited, but know you know for sure that now isn’t the right time to get back together, no matter how much you both want and crave it,”

“we’re like the same person, at least i like to think so. i just want him to understand why i do what i do,” it makes your head hurt thinking about reasons why he couldn’t try to understand you at the least, it was the least he could do along with loving you. he was always so unreasonable with mental health.

“just give him some time to think about what he said and how he can fix things over time, time heals everything,” bullshit.

you felt like a mess, sitting in front of the vanity mirror as you get your hair fixed by your stylist, her sweet smile as your eyes reached hers in the mirror comforted you in the slightest, you just had to get through tonight and then you’ll be able to be alone in your dorm room, in the comfort of your own bed.

“feeling anxious?” your leader lets her head fall on your shoulder, smiling at the glitter in your inner corners and poking your cheek in awe, “you’ll be okay, at least you’re pretty and have curly hair,” her finger twirls the curl resting in the small ponytail in your hair, letting it boing back to place.

once your stylist was done, she spun your chair to face your leader, who bent down to fix the curls in your face, cupping your cheeks once she was done and smiling down at you, “i just wish to be home right now,” you sigh, practically melting into her hold and she squishes your cheeks in response. you wanted to cry, the amount of promotions you had this week drained every last bit of emotion out of you.

“just put a smile on that frowny face of yours, get out there and look as cute as you always do during fansigning, we’re gonna have a party tonight!” you groan in response, she lets go of your face to cross her arms across her chest, noticing your negative response to the idea of partying, “what’s wrong with getting wasted after all these promotions? it’s not like anyone else will be there,”

that was a lie, you sat in a corner of your shared house with group after group showing up and partying, while you just wanted to be in your bed. maybe if you get drunk enough, you can dance with a random and have some fun tonight, you thought while staring at your other members already claiming other males to dance with. the lights flashing making your head hurt, as you stood up to get another glass of your drink.

there was yelling going on around you, but you chose to ignore it and downed half of your cup before heading towards your room, planning on locking your door and drowning all the noise of the party out with music. but your heart and feet stopped when hollers from the front door caught your attention. the person who took feet away from you, you wished to disappear out of his sight. no, it wasn’t Jungkook, right about now you wished it was instead of the monster who stood close in front of you, but far away at the same time

Choi Jaehyun, also known as the dick that cheated on you, also known as the abusive alcoholic you had dated, also known as the reason for the way you were now. one little glance towards his way made you gag, in shock and disbelief that he would dare to even show up here. the first thing he did was grab a beer, like he always did at his house after hitting you like you were the cause of all his problems.

it makes you ache, your heart especially knowing you loved his shit ass self at one point, thinking that he would change if you just covered up all the marks he would leave on you. after that relationship was over, your leader swore at you to never get back into another relationship until you got over him. you were over him, to say the least, but not over the way he made you feel. he made you feel worthless, ungrateful, unworthy, like a weakling.

“you think you deserve to be out there in the spotlight, like the bitch you are?” he spat in your face, his hands close to your face making you feel like something was coming towards you.

“baby, please just sit down and listen to me-” another smack hit your cheek, the tingling burned and made you call out in a cry, “jaehyun! please, stop and just have a drink-” you gasped out, the tears burned your eyes but slightly cooled the heat of your cheek.

“drink some more, is that what you fucking what? you want me more drunk so you can run away again?” he grabs your cheek hard, pulling it as he backed you against the cold of the refrigerator. you tried to focus on the loud humming coming from the damn thing, instead of the burning sensation of his hand pinching at the same place he just whacked you, “you’ll never be able to get away from me, not again, baby,”

the tears flowed from your cheeks, his body now facing you as your memory fades away to a new one standing infront of you currently. the look of his face, like he didn’t expect you to be at your own groups party, what a fucking idiot. before he could walk towards you, you grabbed your drink and stormed past him, ignoring the ringing affect his call of your name had to your ears. you told yourself, that where ever he was, you weren’t going to be, never, ever again.

you left the house in nothing but a thin jacket, you walked until your legs gave up on you. once you sat down, not knowing where you were or where your legs were walking you to, you looked up at the dark sky. the lights of the stars twinkling above you, giving you some comfort of the unbearable memories you had. you wished you could just deleted everything, every moment you had that with sick man. but it stays with you, like a parasite eating away at your skin.

you sniffled as you calmed down, whipped out your phone to dial someone, anyone to come get you and to be in the comfort of someone’s arms. you scrolled and scrolled, hoping to see someone’s name that warmed your heart at the sight of it. your eyes scoped around your contacts, hoping for anyone’s name to pop up.

Park Jimin. you quickly dialed his number, knowing he would pick up in a heart beat, like he always did for you.

“are you sure you’ll be okay on the couch? my bed is just as comfortable, even more at that,” he spoke as softly as you remembered, he tucked you into the couch and making sure you were comfortable enough to sleep away your puffy eyes.

“i’ll be okay out here, Jimin, i promise,” Jimin was the only other member, besides Hoseok, who knew about you and Jungkook. he allowed you to come over time to time when ever you and Jungkook would have problems, problems that were always better than what Jaehyun ever put you through. you believe that why you always went back to him, back to the comfort of his aura because he truly loved you. he loved every bit of you, but he couldn’t handle every bit of you.

Jungkook would never, you thought as you rolled over, facing the back of the couch as Jimin accepted the fact you chose the couch over his bed and went upstairs to get some sleep for himself. Jungkook had his angry issues, but he would never show abusive tendencies towards you, no matter how mad he was. he never raised a hand towards your way, he never laid a finger on you. it took you awhile to trust him, but that trust never once left even after you left him multiple times. but, to never bring up the memories that made you feel like a burden, you never once mentioned your past relationship, no matter how many times Jungkook would beg to talk about your exes.

“you should start writing in your journal again, _____” Jimin spoke over his shoulder, his hands working on making your eggs the way you loved them, “i know that helped you at times like this, even if i don’t know what actually happened for you to end up 10 minutes away from my place,”

“it’s better not to talk about it, for my sake,” he nodded in agreement, letting you know he won’t budge any information out of you since he knows the way you looked when he picked you up from the random street you sat at. you always wanted to tell him about your past, what changed you into the mess you are now and why you can’t seem to stay stable at any current time of the year. just because it happened years ago, doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect you to talk about it, even if you trusted someone with your life, “you know what? that might be a good idea,” you spoke up after the minute of slience between you both.

you’ll write about everything bothering you, maybe you’ll be able to pick at the pieces broken inside of you to figure out how to handle all of your problems with Jungkook, but mainly yourself. you always need to put yourself first, your therapist would tell you, no matter how badly the other person is struggling, and you stood by that.

you never wanted to leave Jungkook, you never wanted him to feel like he wasn’t good enough for you love. you wanted him to feel like he was on the top of the world with you, to make him feel important and loved the way he should. what he doesn’t know, is that he was the reason you wanted to get better. he always told you, that you deserved everything heading towards you that was good. if the good was getting better and becoming healthy, hell yeah, you deserved that shit like it was a grammy.

so once you got back to the dorms, letting all your members and your worried leader know that you were at a good friends house after the party, you headed to your room with a fresh new notebook, ready to jot down all your feelings and thoughts that you let eat you alive everyday.

to my past, fuck you, sincerely. you deserve nothing, you don’t deserve to take over my life. i will get rid of you, i will get better, i deserve to be happy, i deserve to become a butterfly instead of moth. moths are pretty, but trust, i will be a beautiful monarch.

cheesy, you know that, but it’s true. so true that you continue to write until your hand cramps around your pen. you will get better, it just takes time, but time definitely does not heal everything.

a/n: i low-key hate writing angst, but here we are! this is a reminder that you are not alone if you’ve ever went through abuse or trauma with abuse, you will always have people out there for you and you have help too. there are hotlines on top of hotlines, please don’t be afraid to speak up about it, no matter what. i love you all, and never feel like you can’t reach out to talk to me, dm me about anything! you are all worthy and beautiful and deserve the best🩷. here are some hotlines: 1, 2, 3

taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @joonsproperty @jk97bam @dna-black-and-blue

COMMENT TO BE ON TAGLIST!

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wosoluver · 1 month

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To undo a mistake

Part 6/17 - previous - next

Lena x Bayern Player!reader

Around three weeks later.

You had been the last one to arrive at camp. Along with Klara, Syd, Giulia and Lea.

You were greeted by every one with hugs. You were there for the first game of Euro's 2025 qualifying.

Everyone was so excited. Including you. So when Lena came up to greet you with a hug, you barely paid any mind to the action. Until she said something.

"Hey. How are you?"

"Good, really." - And you weren't lying. The last couple of weeks had been good. You were keeping yourself busy with the team, training, therapy twice a week and spending time with friends. And by friends you meant Ana.

Before you could say anything else, the started dividing you guys into two to share the rooms. You tried sticking to Syd, she had already grabbed Lea by the arm.

And the only ones left without a partner was you, and Lena.

Once noticing that Lea offered to switch places with you.

"It's fine. Thanks."

Everyone tried to pretend the weren't paying attention. And that they weren't surprised by how you were acting.

Lena included. She was glad though. That you no longer felt so repulsed by her presence.

You both follow up to the room to settle in and leave your bags before heading to training.

"I thought you hated me. I was scared I wouldn't have the chance of talking to you again."

"I don't hate you. I hate the situation we were in. And the way you handled things.

But I think I deserved to move on." - you said. And the first thing you did before anything else once you went in, was texting Ana you had arrived safely.

Next you changed and made your way down. Without waiting on Lena.

Not that she was expecting you to. But still, it hurt a little.

By the end of the day you could only think of dinner and bed. And you did both on that exact same order.

You were laying in bed, when you picked up Guzmán's call.

"Hey! How was the day?"

"Good, so busy. And unfortunately I ended up having to share the room with Lena."

"Don't drive yourself crazy about that. Am sure you'll be fine."

"She hugged me when I got here! She had the audacity to! Thank god I think I escaped from. She must be in Lea and Syd's room."

"Congratulations on making through the first day!" She said joking around.

"Only so many more to go. I'll let you know if I leave in the middle of the night to go home." - You said it, only half joking.

-"You have to rest for tomorrow. Goodnight. I'll talk to you later."

"Goodnight." - You said hanging up, and not long after you fell asleep.

When Lena was back, she noticed you asleep, trying her best not to wake you. You had always been the lightest sleeper.

She laid in bed thinking back on how the day was, and what was to come. Glad you were at least on speaking terms. Even if it was just the bare minimum.

Friday arrived and you were having breakfast. You were an absolute nerve wreck. You were seating next to Klara. You were all having light conversations.

You received a notification on your phone, that was casually on the table.

"Let me guess. Ana?" - She asked you.

"Yeah, just wishing us good luck."

Little did you know, Lena was watching this very closely. She immediately turned to Lea.

"Who's Ana?"

"What?" - Lea was confused by the sudden question.

"Is Y/N friends with anyone named Ana?"

"Ah yes, Guzmán. She's recently signed with the team."

"And they're friends?"

"Yeah. Ana didn't really connect much with the rest of the team. So they're always together." - Lea said the last part absentmindedly.

Lena was burning inside. She knew she had no right to. And even though her friend had told her they were just friends, she couldn't be sure of that.

Looking over to you once again, you had a big smile on your face.

As you guys made your way to the stadium, Lena had a lot in her mind. Trying to keep calm.

Unfortunately you were starting on the bench today. But you were okay with it. You knew if they needed you, they would put you on.

Getting ready for the match and making your way to the pitch, as they played the national anthems, you and Lena shared one last look, before they had to make it to their spots.

The referee blew the whistle and the game started.

You were worried watching how the first minutes had gone, and when the clock hit the 8:15 mark, Doorsoun made a bad attempt at passing the ball, and lost it to Campbell, Hendrich tried, but the two defenders couldn't stop her, neither could Frohms. And Austria scored the first goal of the match.

In the 15th minute they scored another one. Another from Campbell. This time a header. And you saw Obi blame herself for this one. She was so close.

Nüsken had a good shot at the goal but it was stopped by the Austrian goalkeeper. She had a few more opportunities after that but no scoring.

Bühl finally got a goal, from outside the penalty area. Thankfully putting you guys back in the game, almost 5 minutes to the whistle blow.

And finally you reached the end of the first half.

I like the way this story is going finally!

Guys I might merge some chapters together so they can be longer, so if you're in doubt if you've read it or not, use the images to help guide you!

#woso #woso x reader #lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader #dfb frauen #vfl wolfsburg frauen #fc bayern frauen

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primalmagic · 25 days

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when horror movies become therapy

it's been a year after the webtoon's final events, and the gang still can't watch real horror movies.

OR a sbg future au consisting purely of fluff, sleepovers, and, well, horror movies.

—

You would think, that one year later, things would have settled down. That everyone would be trying to get their lives back together, figure things out, and leave the past far, far, behind them.

The truth could not be farther from that.

The six of them have huddled together on Ashlyn's slightly bouncy couch, watching a crappy horror movie that was way too loud and way too flashy.

Watching horror movies had become a tradition between them, like a "take that" to everything they'd been through. It was a slow climb, sure, but it was something to do, and it made them all feel a little bit accomplished. Not being scared of another movie felt like giving a middle finger to the horror movie they lived through- almost like a step towards being... normal again.

Plus, they got to do it together.

"Someday," Taylor mutters, "We'll have the guts to go and watch a real horror film without freaking out."

Aiden snorts, shifting on the couch to avoid being squished between Tyler and Ashlyn. "Please, you wouldn't last ten seconds in an actual movie theatre."

She flicks him in the shoulder and sighs in pretend exasperation, "Please, you didn't last ten seconds in an actual movie theatre." She retorts, raising her eyebrows.

Aiden looks away, slightly red and embarrassed, "That was like, three months ago! And it was scary, okay? The ghoul thing looked like a phantom. There's no way you weren't scared too."

She can't deny that she'd also been freaking out, but Aiden's vocal reaction had made the entire group laugh for hours. He'd gotten up on his chair and screamed curses at the theatre screen, then spider-jumped two rows down and bounced outside. No, literally, he was practically hopping, flailing his arms and running out the door like an Olympic sprinter. He denies it, for some reason, justifying it with a flick of his hand and an insistence of it being only for the dramatics.

"Never said we weren't scared," Ashlyn blurts, grabbing a handful of sweet-and-salty popcorn out of an oddly geometrically decorated bowl, "Just sayin' that you didn't need to run out like Logan did when we first met him."

Logan squawks indignantly, "I did not run when I first met you!" He gets up to snatch some popcorn from Ashlyn's bowl, and makes an unpleasant face when he pops one into his mouth. "God, this is like if table salt and caramel had a baby, and then left it alone in a cornfield for a century."

"It's delicious," Ashlyn frowns, "You're taste buds are just deformed."

"I-"

"Guys," Tyler groans, "Can we just watch the fucking movie?"

Aiden leans over to ruffle his hair, causing Tyler to squeak and try to move away. "Aw, poor Tyler," He snickers, "I think he's enjoying the movie. We should all be quiet and let him watch it, then."

"I'm not!" He protests, because the film is terrible and it would be incredibly embarrassing to enjoy it, "I just want you guys to shut up."

Taylor frowns, "No you don't," She declares, definitively.

He groans, "Either you guys watch the movie and shut up, or you turn off the movie and complain about disfigured salt babies for hours. There is no in-between."

Ben types something on his iPad and raises it for the rest to see, Both, please, and thank you. He smirks slightly, clearly proud of pissing Tyler off.

He groans, "You guys are exhausting, I'm leaving. I have to get to practice early tomorrow anyway."

"No!" Aiden screams, launching himself at the tired boy, "You are not allowed to leave, buddy. You are being held hostage by the Phantom Busters, please do not rebel in any form or way."

"I... plead the fifth?" He blinks, knowing that there isn't any way out of this.

"We're having a sleepover," Logan declares, "No negotiations necessary. Or allowed."

Tyler rolls his eyes, but his irritated persona is broken when he smiles, "Yeah, sure, fine, whatever."

Ashlyn grabs another handful of popcorn, "You know, you do have to ask the person whose house it is if you want to have a sleepover, right?"

"Nope," Aiden shrugs, "But I asked your mom already."

She snorts, throwing a piece of popcorn at him, "When the hell did you do that?"

It lands in Taylor's hair, and she swats it off quickly.

"Like, right before we started the movie? You just didn't see me 'cause I'm a fucking ninja," He finger-guns her and swirls around, "Now, if you will excuse me, I must notify my parents that they are free of another morning with me."

The movie has stopped playing, and when Ashlyn finally notices, she furrows her eyebrows, "When the hell did the movie turn off?"

Ben waves the remote and throws it to Aiden, who just put his phone down.

"It's been confisticated," Aiden declares, punching his hand in the air like he's holding a gold medal instead of a TV remote.

Logan sighs, "Confiscated," he corrects.

"That's what I fucking said!"

"Whatever," Taylor waves him off, "We can finish the movie tomorrow. You guys want to play charades?"

"Can I be a clown?"

She sighs, "It doesn't work like tha-"

"Don't worry, Aiden, you don't need to pretend," Tyler grins, then ducks away from the popcorn kernel Aiden chucks at him.

"I hate you," He snaps back, with no heat behind his words.

"Ditto," He replies, still basking in the warmth of Aiden's rage.

The blonde calms down rather quickly, or at least he hides his anger as fast as possible. "You know what, thank you. I am a wonderful clown and as I stand here today, I demand justice for all the clowns in the world! You have wronged them, Sir Tyler of the Hernandez." He bows dramatically.

Taylor wheezes, "I need to get that printed on a T-shirt, oh my god."

Aiden nods rapidly, "Oh my god, absolutely, we need matching T-shirts and like, earrings."

You don't even have your ears pierced. Ben types, sharing an amused glance with Logan.

"What about the clip-on things? We could totally get that!!"

Tyler flops back onto the couch, nearly knocking into Logan, who pushes him away lightly. "Aiden, you have too much energy right now, and it's almost midnight. Can we sleep now?"

Aiden looks at him like he's insane, "Who goes to sleep during a sleepover?"

"Me. Good night, Aiden," Tyler smiles, amused.

"Fine," He grumbles, "Let's get the sleeping bags out."

The fact that they all had sleeping bags at Ashlyn's house only proved that they had slept over way too many times to count. Not that she minded though, it was nice having people around, and now that she was comfortable with them, it was almost relaxing.

Sure, it got tiring sometimes, but it was a small price to pay.

Besides, without them, who else would she watch horror movies with?

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pedge-stuff · 9 months

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God I just thought about an idea for pedro and reader, reading your last post...

They are in a relationship and live together. The reader is also an actress. She asks pedro to practice her lines with her. In the play, she is having a really long line, breaking up with the person ans leaving them... pedro can't continue... at night in bed they are cuddling and pedro talks about how he hated the feeling or the thought of the reader ever leaving

(changed this slightly, hope that is OK...)

bad acting (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual.

thanks, as always, for everything.

(also I did that thing where I didn't save this on drafts fast enough and the whole fucking thing deleted so you could say im LIVID sorry if this rewrite felt rushed.)

summary: things get a little... too real.

—————————————————————————

"You can't laugh."

"I'm not gonna laugh!"

Pedro hands you his iPad, script loaded on the screen. "I'm serious," you warn him, "you had to stop last time, the acting was so bad."

"Just read the sides, baby."

You know he isn't nervous about the audition— if he was, he sure as shit wouldn't be practicing with you. Those rehearsals are reserved for his coach, or someone who can actually talk him through the scene. This was just a formality, a quick read-through for some anthological TV show about people in failing marriages. Season 2 of Oscar's old Amazon thing. With the audition being on Zoom tomorrow, the whole process feels fairly relaxed.

"Should I read it in a lady voice? Will that set the scene?"

"Please don't."

"Scottish accent?"

"Babe."

"Hmm." You clear your throat loudly, for dramatic effect. Across the room, feet propped on the desk, Pedro rolls his eyes. He's got his cheaters on, but no script— the audition's supposed to be off-book. "From the first page?"

"You're stalling."

"Ugh. Ok. Here we go." Leaning forward, you scroll to the highlighted text on the iPad. "Stop, David. You don't know what you're talking about."

Pedro's posture straightens; ever the professional, it's like watching a switch flip. The humored lines beside his eyes, little crows feet that crinkle when he looks at you, disappear completely. His brow furrows, gaze darkens.

"Of course I do, dammit. I'm done with this, all of this. It's like living in a mausoleum, Emma. I'd rather. Do you remember what love even feels like? Because I look at you, and I just... don't, anymore."

"You don't mean that."

"I do! I'm so tired of this. Life with you is joyless. Every day, I come home from work and just sit in the goddamn driveway because I don't want to come in the house. It's hard to be in the same room as you. I can't bring her back, Emma, and I miss her and I'm sorry she's dead. But it isn't my fucking fault and I wish you'd stop pretending it was."

His voice cracks, just a little. You frown as he grabs the glass of water beside him, pausing to wait, but he motions for you to continue.

"That's cruel," you read, "and you know it. That's not fair."

"None of this is fair!" Pedro exclaims. "That's the whole point. It's not fair that our daughter is dead while the girl who was driving got to walk away clean. Life isn't fucking fair. But it's life. And you've sucked all the light out of mine. I can't stand you, anymore, I'm sorry. I just can't. It's not that we can't make it work, it's that I don't want to make it work. If I never see you again, it'll be too soon. Jesus christ, I hate every part of this."

"Are you done? Have you gotten it all off your chest?"

"Don't placate me! This isn't one of your stupid therapy sessions, Emma, you can't fix this with a breathing worksheet and a roleplaying exercise. Be fucking serious. Every day I wake up and I wish I'd never met you. At least then, she wouldn't be dead, because she'd never have existed. And maybe I'd known some goddamn peace."

The page ends there, and you glance up. Pedro has his head in his hands, eyes closed.

"That was good," you offer tentatively, searching for some kind of sign as to what his next move is. He's gracious about work stuff, but you're always a little afraid of mucking up his process.

When he looks up, his eyes are glossy. "Yeah," Pedro says, croakily, clearing his throat quietly before rising from the chair. He takes the iPad back, wordlessly, shuttering the case over the screen.

"Wanna do it again? You were spot-on, Pedge, but we can go over it again if you want to."

"No," he says quickly. "No, I'm good. I'm fine. It's on Zoom, it'll be easy. I'm fine."

Weird. Just a little. Before you can dwell on his sudden cageyness, he's up, headed for the door.

"I'm gonna walk the dogs. We can catch up on Bake-Off, when I get back?"

Pedro leaves before you can answer.

— — —

No sooner have the leashes been hung back by the door, than Pedro is beside you on the couch, all hands and light touches. It's as if he can't bear to lost contact. You allow him to reposition you, reaching a hand around your waist as you reach for the remote.

"Good walk?"

He hums, tugging you against him. Settles, finally, once you're half-reclined, back against his chest, arm around your middle. You fiddle with the edge of his sleeve as the bakers fumble their way through the signature challenge.

It's not that the clinginess bothers you— he's like this sometimes, when he's just returned home, or you've arrived in LA, or met somewhere in the middle. Every separation leaves him want for touch. It's the one thing you can't give him, while you're apart.

But he's been home a couple weeks now, in between reshoots for a new project. Been home all day, in fact, in an orbit around you while you attempted to work from home. (A little too close, frankly, but you can't really complain.)

"You okay?" You whisper, as the timer runs down on the technical bake.

No answer. Just a tightened grip on your waist, and a firm kiss to the top of your head.

— — —

It isn't until later, in bed and half-asleep, that you pinpoint the source of the tension.

You'd have thought he was already asleep, save for the soft carding of his fingers through the baby hairs at the nape of your neck. Deep, even breaths tickle your forehead; he's curled around you, arm draped over your back. Had positioned himself this way silently, looking a little silly brooding in his Muppet-patterned pj pants.

"We're never reading lines again," Pedro whispers into the darkness.

"Was the acting that bad?"

Your attempt for levity falls flat. He is quiet, long enough for you roll backwards slightly, to get a better look at his face. A deep-set frown has taken root.

"No, it..." He tugs you closer again, tucking your head beneath his chin. If he weren't so sad, you'd call uncle for claustrophobia; your nose is squished into his jugular. But you lay still, waiting for him to continue.

"It felt too real," Pedro concedes. He inhales sharply, and you can feel it against your own chest.

The kiss you press to the hollow of his throat, doesn't feel good enough. You wiggle, tilting your head to press one against his toothpaste-tasting lips. Whiskers tickle the corner of your mouth.

"Baby, I know you were... pretending." A thin line between placating him and treading on his professionalism. "If our pretend daughter died in a car crash, I know you wouldn't divorce me for being too sad."

"It's not funny." With a groan, he kisses you again, resting his forehead against yours. "I hated saying that stuff to you. Felt too real."

The bone-crushing spooning is making a little more sense, now.

"I love you, but you're a sap."

"Hmph."

You smile into the next kiss. "A very sweet sap, though."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #din djarin #joel miller #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x male reader #joel miller x male reader #the mandolorian

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

If I Rescue You, Will You Rescue Me, Too? Part 3

Steve learns the fate of the party and Jeff is a good dude. And Wayne is bestest, but y’all knew that.

Part 1 Part 2

The doctor waited patiently for everyone to file out.

“Steve,” he said, “I’m Dr Hathaway. If you would like Mr Wayne Munson to hear your prognosis, would you please sign these?”

Steve looked over at Wayne and then back at Eddie. They both shrugged. But it made sense. Since Steve was sharing a room with Eddie Wayne would be there anyway.

He carefully read each document and then signed them both. He handed them back to Dr Hathaway.

“Right, thank you,” he said. “You’re doing fine. The wounds on your side and chest are healing nicely. There is no infection and didn’t require stitches. We would have liked to have made that decision ourselves. Two days ago. When you got them.” He raised an eyebrow at Steve, who blushed.

“Was kinda running for my life at the time,” Steve murmured.

“So I’ve been read in,” Dr Hathaway said.

Everyone in the room visibly relaxed from the unknown tension of how much they could say to the doctor.

“We will be keeping you overnight for observation to monitor your hydration and sugar levels,” he continued. “When you were brought in you were dehydrated with a low blood sugar. I understand that with being on the access to food and water was probably scarce but,” Dr Hathaway jutted his thumb at Eddie, “he had better hydration and nutrition then you did.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Didn’t you eat at all?”

Steve flushed. “I may have forgotten...”

“I swear to god, Harrington,” Eddie growled, “when I get out of this hospital bed I am going to kick your self-sacrificing ass.”

Dr Hathaway hid his grin with his clipboard. “I think you’ll have to take a number and get in line. I believe there are two young ladies and about a half of a dozen teenagers that are chomping at the bit to do exactly that.”

Eddie chuckled. “Then I will happily wait my turn.”

Steve looked to Wayne for support. He didn’t even know why. It just...felt right.

“Don’t worry,” Wayne said fondly, patting Steve’s hand, “I’ll make sure they don’t kick you too hard.”

Eddie cackled and the doctor huffed a laugh.

“Savages,” Steve said with a pout.

“If your vitals are good tomorrow,” Dr Hathaway said, clearing his throat, “you’ll get to be release from our care.”

Steve sighed happily. “Thank you, Dr Hathaway. That’s good news.”

The doctor stepped over to Eddie. “Now, you are the one we are most concerned with.”

Eddie looked down at his many bandages and nodded. “With any luck you’ll be out of here in a week. Without luck, two.”

“What’s the prognosis, Doc?” Wayne asked.

“The wounds were clean and well bandaged,” Dr Hathaway said. He turned to Steve, “I understand that was your handiwork?”

Steve nodded. “I was trained in CPR and first aid when I was a lifeguard at the community center.”

Dr Thompson nodded. “You did a good a job, you probably saved his life.”

Eddie and Wayne shared a shocked glance.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked as Steve shifted uncomfortably in his bed.

“The bite to your throat was within milometers from your carotid artery,” Dr Hathaway explained, “if Steve hadn’t done such a good job with the bandaging, there is a real possibility you would have bleed out before you got to us.”

Wayne took Steve’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“The wounds on the arms are bad, but the leather jacket, which I am told you were wearing, lessened the damage,” Dr Hathaway continued. “It will take a lot of healing and probably some serious physical therapy but you’ll be fine. We’ll see. Now that you’re awake, I’ll set up an appointment with the physical therapist and see what needs to be done.”

Eddie nodded. “What about the bites on my legs?”

The doctor looked at his clipboard again and hummed. “Very minimal damage. You have a bite on your left thigh and another on your left calf but for whatever reason they weren’t able to get through the wet denim.”

Eddie laughed. “Armor, the only good thing to come from wet fucking jeans. They are like the worst!”

Steve chuckled. “Agreed. It’s why I didn’t wear them when we found out about the Upside Down being back. They literally suck.”

“Do either of you have any questions?” Dr Hathaway asked. “Or you Mr Munson?”

They all shook their heads.

“Good, then I will let your friends come back in,” he said. He walked out and the Corroded Coffin boys shuffled back in.

“What happened to Robin?” Steve asked when she didn’t come in with them.

“She went to go relay the information that you’re awake to ‘the party’ or whatever it was she said,” Jeff said.

Steve buried his head in his hands. “I’m going to be invaded...” he wailed.

Eddie laughed. “They’ve already come and seen me.” His grin slid off his face. “You and me weren’t the only ones that were hurt. Red’s in a coma.”

Steve’s breath caught. “Shit, I was so worry about everything else I forgot to see if anyone else was hurt. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stupid!” He gripped his hair, chanting ‘stupid’ over and over again. Wayne was on him in an instant.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he said, grabbing Steve’s hands and gently pried them from his hair. “Calm down there, kiddo! You’re going to hurt yourself.”

The other boys watched in pained silence as Wayne got Steve to calm down.

“Did anyone else get hurt?” Steve said through a ragged breath.

“Just us three,” Eddie said. “You did good, Stevie. I promise. The fact that out of eight of us, less than half got hurt? That’s a fucking miracle and you know it.”

Steve let out a whimper. “Only I’ve been hurt before.” He paused. “No, that’s not right. We lost Hop, too.” He let out a pained cry. “God, I’m so selfish.”

The room’s silence penetrated into ounce of space, even Jeff, Gareth, and Brian cottoned on to the fact that Steve was talking about something deeper, something darker then just an animal attack and the serial murders that caused a witch hunt for their friend.

“We’re alive,” Eddie murmured. “That’s the important part, I promise.”

Steve just curled up on his side and away from everyone else.

Jeff watched him for a moment, before he started talking with Eddie and drawing everyone’s attention away from Steve’s evident torment.

Wayne got up and moved his chair over to the other side of Steve’s bed and got close to his face.

“Boy, I’m gonna tell you something,” Wayne murmured. “And you better listen close, you hear?”

Steve nodded.

“Good,” he said. “I may have not fought off monsters and super powered humans, but I have fought in a war, so trust me when I say I know shit.”

“I’m–I was the oldest before Eddie came along,” he whispered back, “it’s my job to protect them.”

“Steve, you were running on empty with very little sleep I’ll bet,” Wayne said gently, “you did your best. And you saved my boy. I don’t know the girl that got hurt, I hear she was from Forest Hills, too?”

Steve nodded again. “Max Mayfield.”

Wayne pursed his lips. “Okay, yeah I know her mother. I had to break up fights between her and that husband of hers. Hell I had break up more than just fights. You know about that?”

“Her step-brother gave me my third concussion with a plate to the head.”

Wayne took Steve’s hand. “She’s going to be okay, because you made sure people were with her. It’s not your fault Jason Carver found them. From what I hear he had gone mad from the grief and was going to do whatever it took to put it to rights. Only the boy didn’t know he couldn’t fight the devil and win.”

“He didn’t even know it was the devil he was fighting,” Steve murmured, the tension from his body slowly seeping out.

Wayne brought Steve’s hand to his chest. “All of you kids knew the risks going into this. And the fact that you couldn’t turn to a single adult pisses me off more than I can possibly convey. That Wheeler girl told you lot having been fighting this for four years. You were a child Steve. Just like those freshmen are.” With his other hand he ran his fingers through Steve’s hair. “You shouldn’t have had to do any of this shit, but you did and all of you made it out alive. Alive, Steve. Alive.”

Tears ran down Steve’s face and he nodded. They were alive. And Vecna was dead. He just needed El to confirm it.

As if from his lips to god’s ear, there was a shy knock on the door. Everyone turned to see a girl with a shaved head peak into the room.

Steve sat up and Wayne sat back to avoid getting hit.

“Sorry,” Steve muttered. But he threw out his arms and suddenly the girl was in his arms.

“You’re safe,” he whispered, rubbing her head. “I’m sorry about your hair, sweetheart.”

“He’s gone, Steve,” she whispered back. “I can’t feel him anymore. He’s gone. But I don’t have hope, not anymore.”

He held her close. He knew what she meant. Every time they thought they were done with this bullshit, it came storming back in. “At least it only happens once a year, yeah? We’ll be ready if it comes back. But maybe no more moving across the country, huh?”

She chuckled wetly into his shoulder. She reared back with bright eyes and big smile. “I almost forgot, Joyce got Dad back.”

Steve blinked at her for a moment. “Hop? Chief Hopper is back?”

She nodded excitedly. “The Russians faked his death and kidnapped him.”

Suddenly the weight was lifted off Steve’s shoulders. The actual adults were back. He could relax now. He hadn’t lost anybody. Max just had to come out of her coma and everything would be fine.

It would all be fine.

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Tag List: @anaibis @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @spectrum-spectre @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @whalesharksart

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #season 4 fix it #ladykailtiha writes

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octuscle · 7 months

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Hey there! I work as a therapist and a few of us were starting to think of the clinical applications of chronivac. We were wondering if you wanted to work together to develop some presets that our clients could use to de-stress and take a break from their stressful lives. I know we have one stressed out university student who could benefit from something like this.

At Chronivac, we are always interested in collaborating with research institutions. After all, Chronivac is not used just to have fun. It is already being used for the treatment of various physical illnesses and also for resocialization projects. The use in the psychotherapeutic field would be new, but sounds interesting according to the research and development department. If the student they are talking about is available as a guinea pig, perhaps send us a requirements profile for a transformation. And we'll see what we can do….

Research Diary Timothy Walker

Day One: My psychotherapist tells me that my burn-out syndrome has progressed to the point that continuing my business studies is out of the question at this point. In fact, I am having a hard time concentrating. Writing this report is causing me great difficulty; my attention span is only a few minutes. Therefore, an experimental therapy has been decided with the psychology faculty, which is connected with a semester off for me. Under certain circumstances, the semester can be counted as an internship. Everything is fine with me. I am just tired. The work on the research diary was exhausting for me. I need to lie down.

Second day: I slept very well. No wild nightmares as usual. I woke up briefly once or twice at most, but went right back to sleep. Michael, who is in charge of the project as pysiotherapist, thinks that this would be a good starting point to work on my physical fitness. We both went running for an hour. I'm exhausted, I haven't moved that much since I started studying. But I feel good. Made myself a real breakfast for the first time in months according to my new nutrition plan. I'm supposed to spend the rest of the day walking on the beach. Let's see if that clears my head.

Third day: Before Michael came for the training session, I was already in the gym for an hour. I'm really enjoying the physical activity. The beach walk yesterday was great. And Michael was thrilled to see the progress I'm making in terms of fitness. Had the first session with my creativity coach today. Seems a little silly to me. But imagining what I would be doing if I weren't studying business was fun. But I have to admit, my head isn't really getting creative yet. At least writing the diary is already much easier for me.

Day four: I need new challenges. The beach run with Mike is fun, but it's not a sport. That's warming up. We discussed that I would go running alone for an hour tomorrow and that we would meet in the gym of the therapy center. I'm supposed to come without a T-shirt. Mike wants me to learn to love my body. To be honest, I already do. I've already jerked off twice today. And think about sex a lot more than usual. Mike also comes in the process. My creative trainer is also quite cute, but he's too skinny for me. I like men who have a lot of muscle on them.

Fifth day: Fuck, the workout with Mike is awesome! I love the gym from the first minute. Yes, the beach feels my home. But the gym is the place that prepares me for that home. Working out shirtless makes the workout even more intense. i can't get enough of Mike's and my sweat beading on our pecs. But I'm so horny. All the time. During the creative training with Kev it just bubbled out of me today. I would so love to be a lifeguard. Maybe not all the time. But on vacation. And on the weekends. The idea made me even hornier. Poor Kev. He's not my type, but I had to nail him during practice. No idea when I last had sex. but this first time in a long time was incredibly intense. Thank God Kev felt the same way….

Day six: Today is uh free day at da therapy center. Mike n kev are already down at da beach, I wanted to pump up da muscles beforehand. I'm looking forward to da sea n da sand. Both make my head so free. Although I wouldn't feel like my head wuz overly full right now anyway. Pumping, fucking, jogging n swimming. That's really all I'm thinking about right now. Kevin says that I certainly wouldn't have to worry about da practical entrance exams for lifeguards. But I shouldn't underestimate da theory. Shit, studying sucks. But I guess it haz to be.

Day seven: I like it when I have da early shift. Da routine of opening da station is relaxing, da beach is still quiet, da few guests are usually relaxed n in uh gud mood. Wuz one of da best ideas of my life to take uh semester off n work as uh lifeguard. My pal mikey told me to lay off this crappy journal. Somehow I thought it wuz important until now. I can't remember why, either. Anyway. Da main thing is that da surf is gud. Den you can have some fun with da surfers afta work. Hehehehe…

#male tf #muscle tf #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #surfer tf

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possibilistfanfiction · 5 months

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I love Beatrice feels about Avas gender identity (or lack of). And how, for Beatrice, her womanhood is still an important part of her, even if she expresses that part differently than other women. And how Bea is just down for the ride when Ava experiments with their gender expression, just endless support and love and just letting Ava try out whatever they want. Like the scene with the binder, Ava wasnt visibly uncomfortable or weirded out, she just said that it wasnt something for her, and Bea never discouraged her of trying it out by telling her that she wouldnt like it, or other masculine things that fit better, like the suit. So yeah, thanks for having someone like Ava who doenst give a fuck about how she "should" dress and act as told by society and then Beatrice, for whom womanhood is still an important part of, but she puts her personal own spin on it, so she still feels like herself and happy. So, yeah you said you already have two butch!Bea prompts, so I just wanted to request a Avatrice fic with some happy gender expressions/feels it doesnt have to be butch!Bea AU, if you want. But yeah, I love how you write Beas butch style but still in touch with her womanhood. (And of course her kicking ass in Aikaido class ;) )

‘wow,’ you say, a little breathless. ava grins, spins around in their tuxedo slacks and button down with the sleeves rolled up to their elbows, an old binder of yours that’s loose on them but still offers some compression underneath, paired with patent leather loafers and a tie loose around their neck. they’ve slicked their hair back neatly and are grinning, arms outstretched. ‘you look amazing.’

‘yeah?’

‘of course,’ you say, as if there was any other possibility. ava wraps her arm around your waist and looks in the mirror at the both of you together: it’s a little different, because you’re used to ava in the dresses and crop tops and flowy pants he loves, an old favorite pair of overalls — but it’s, like, really, really hot. you’ve learned through your friends and therapy and ava’s own deep exuberance around queerness that you really are in love in so many of its forms, the textures it takes and allows; while you feel much, much better and safer and more comfortable and at ease in yourself when you’re in loose, easy pants, your chest flat, your hair short, you have never begrudged ava their expansion. they’ve seen so, so much, lived through more pain than anyone should ever have to, so everything about them, even at their most annoying, is beautiful to you.

‘if i wore a packer into a cathedral, do you think i would be struck down or something?’

it takes a second too long for your brain to get unstuck from the heat that races down your spine; ava smirks. ‘are you —‘ unfortunately your voice comes out a little strangled and you have to regroup — ‘are you wearing one?’

‘nah,’ ava says. ‘thought about it, but these pants are kinda tight and if i have to sit through some dumbass pomp and circumstance at the vatican i’m at least going to be comfortable.’

you hum, the best you can do.

‘maybe i’ll wear it tomorrow with that new skirt i got in madrid though,’ she says, far too casual for the victorious expression on her face.

‘well, you do know god best.’

‘that’s so true,’ ava says, preening again and then turning toward you. ‘gender expression, totally cool with god, if you can believe that.’

‘i suppose i can.’ ava’s smirk softens into an easy smile, one you revel in every time it’s for you, the way sunflowers turn toward the sun.

‘plus, this little vest situation you have going on is, like, so hot. god can’t begrudge me your arms, not after all i’ve done.’

you huff at their obvious delight in flustering you, but it’s summer and very hot and, really, the light sweater vest you’d picked out to go with your very church-appropriate slacks is also quite tame.

‘i love you,’ they say, softening again, and kiss your cheek. ‘now, let’s go scandalize some conservatives, shall we?’

you laugh, unable to resist ava’s warmth, again and again. ‘we shall.’

#wn fic #avatrice fic #prompts #wn #avatrice #smth smth ava modeling her look off of nate from gossip girl but w a side of slutty blair i can't explain further but u get it #another silly one esp for those of u in my inbox BEGGING for masc ava lol this is p much all i got #butch bea 🥺🫡

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oh-stars · 2 months

Text

Being Your Eyes

Blind

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 474 words | CW: N/A | Rating: G

“Oh my god, Robs,” Steve hisses, leaning into her.

She perks up, head tilting toward him as she blinks the sleep out of her eyes. “What is it?”

“There’s a mom and daughter coming out of Barnes & Noble,” he says, probably louder than he intended but his hearing aids don’t work the best in crowded areas. “The mom has on this dress – think Madonna back in the Like a Virgin days – and they’re tucked into her spanx.”

“Stop,” Robin gasps, covering her mouth with one hand and grabbing Steve’s arm with another.

“Daughter’s been trying to get her attention, it looks like,” Steve says. “I’d put her at twelve maybe.”

“So embarrassed by her mom even breathing at her, let alone that?”

“Bingo.” Steve narrows his eyes at the two as the daughter desperately tries to get her mom to stop walking and to shut up long enough for her to tell her. “Poor kid is trying so hard to save her mom.”

“We should do something.”

“Meh,” Steve says with a shrug.

Robin shrugs too and leans into Steve more. “What are they doing now?”

“They’re walking into Hallmark.” He lifts his head a little, but his hip hurts from walking around the mall so he doesn’t try to do more than that. “Can’t see them anymore.”

“That makes two of us.”

Steve rolls his eyes. If you had asked him back in ‘85 which of them would be blind first, Steve would have said himself easily. And he’s well on his way, sure. His glasses couldn’t get any thicker than they are now and even then, he’s been banned from driving. He never would have guessed that Robin would lose most of her sight first.

She can see a little still, mostly close up and enough to keep her from running into things in new places. It doesn’t stop her from falling, but they’re old enough where that’s a problem anyone would be having at her age so he doesn’t blame that on her eyes. But just because she can’t see from a distance or other people, doesn’t mean she should miss out on their favorite pastime: people watching.

“Gross,” Steve huffs as he settles back in with Robin, “this guy just stuck his hand down his pants and sniffed his hand.”

“Ew,” Robin swats at him. “I don’t want to know that.”

“You need the full picture.”

“I promise you, I don’t.”

Steve chuckles as he surveys the area of the mall they’re in. It’s not as busy as it should be, but it’s still early and there’s enough people that he’s found some good stories. And they still have ten minutes before his daughter picks them up once Eddie’s physical therapy is over, so he’s bound to find another weird scenario to tell Robin.

If he doesn’t, there’s always tomorrow.

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

#ohstars fic #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #stobin month 2024 #ohstars posting challenge #platonic soulmates stobin #platonic stobin #stobin

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pixelated-mechanisms-chaos · 4 months

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Below is a very important yet heavy update on me and how it affects the game's (Downtime) progress.

You have no obligation to read this, but it's appreciated if you do.

Im not sure how to explain in nicely, so i won't.

I might lose my place to live due to the people i live with, family, just not being able to manage how they should, something i realized due to therapy and outside opinions from multiple people.

Im so tired to keep giving what i have just so we can survive and ive been doing it for 4 years maybe? I am the youngest of us 3, i just turned 18 last year - god damn it! I shouldn't have to worry about what they mess up- its not my fault, and i just have to DEAL with their mistakes.

Ive been told the power might get cut too due to their lack of ability to manage, so i most probably will move out with my therapist's help if i can, which i believe will be extremely difficult and draining but a bit easier with said therapist's help and ultimately better in the long run, even if i gaslight myself into thinking the situation isn't as bad.

Due to everything said above, i decided to put this project on hold until im secure again. until i can focus on other things than only survival.

I hate to even put this in a post but i do feel like its necessary. I have a KO-FI. No one is obligated to donate, i just wanted to mention it in case someone wants to support me in one way or another and I want to mention that the people i live with are not aware of me having KO-FI, redbubble or paypal, so the money is just mine alone.

That's all for now, i might post updates if im able to, but for today? I just want to sleep and rest and worry about more of this tomorrow. Thank you for reading and i hope you have a good day or nights rest despite this♡

-Oliver

#the mechanisms games #@pixelated mechanisms chaos #game making #progress #downtime #personal update #mental health #ko fi

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enchxanting · 1 year

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our love is god [ethan landry] pt. 6

read part 5 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: angst, discussion of suicide, obsessive compulsive behavior

a/n: this is sooooo lady macbeth coded. hope you enjoy!!

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Dear Diary,

I go to the bathroom at least twice a period.

When I'm there, I make sure I’m alone. Then I do two things. First, I stare at myself in the mirror. I don’t break eye contact until I’ve sufficiently recalled the memory of Tara’s limp body in my peripheral vision as Ethan pulled me out of her room.

After that, I wash my hands at least three times, but it’s usually closer to seven.

I left Tara behind four days ago. My hands are raw. I don’t know what to do.

I can’t wash this feeling away.

Still, it’s better than sending my SAT scores to San Quentin. Thank god for Ethan, because I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. “Sorry, officer, I accidentally poisoned my best friend after our huge public disagreement?”

Sure, yeah, that sounds believable. I looked up the prison time for manslaughter, assuming the judge believes it was an accident, and I don’t have eleven years to spare right now.

Talk soon.

Y/N

I close my diary and return it to my backpack for safekeeping.

Mindy is still writing on the pieces of looseleaf the school counselor, Dr. Stone, provided her with. It appears that most people don’t keep a diary past the third grade, but some TED talk said that journaling can help process big traumas, and the school has been on that shit ever since. Luckily, they don’t ask to read the entries.

The school took away my friends’ and my free periods and sent us to the counselor’s office after the news broke of Tara’s “suicide.” Anika and Chad have to go alone, but Mindy and I have always had free blocks together.

This group therapy has got to be some sort of cosmic punishment for what I did. Now I have to watch one of her oldest friends mourn, as if I wasn��t the one who let her die.

Mindy clicks her pen and slides the papers across to Dr. Stone. He takes them without looking, inserting them neatly into a file stuffed with previous entries.

“Thank you, girls. I know that the past week has been… difficult, to say the least. I want you to know that this is a safe space, and you can freely share any emotions that this tragic event has brought up.”

Poor Dr. Stone. I know that he’s really trying, but there aren’t any emotions I can bring up that wouldn’t be incriminating. Guilt? Disgust? Fear? I sneak a glance at Mindy, who’s staring out the window. She’s silent, too.

Dr. Stone sighs. “I understand that this is all very new. Maybe we’ll feel up to talking tomorrow.”

The bell rings, and Mindy gets up without saying a word. I mumble a half-hearted “thank you” before following her into the hall.

“Christ, that shit sucks,” she says. “I hate fucking journaling.”

We turn down the hallway towards the gym, where Chad’s taking part in some sort of football conditioning at lunch. We’ve developed a habit of skipping halfway through the day to sit in his car.

Mindy drops her bag and sits against the wall by the gym door. “It’s just so unfair,” she says. “I still don’t understand.”

I sit down beside her. “Don’t understand what?”

She’s quiet for a second. “I read the note. Tara said there wasn’t anyone left who cared about her. And that’s bullshit. I cared, and Chad cared, and Anika cared, and Sam cared, and you cared.”

Her eyes are brimming with angry tears. “Part of me is so, so fucking mad at her. Like, how could she leave us behind, after we made it out together? We were starting to get somewhere. She had that thing with Chad going, even if both of them were too dumb to realize. You were pulling in steady cash, thanks to me, so we could actually afford to get out of here. We talked about college in New York or something, far away from Woodsboro. There were all these goddamn plans.

“But mostly I fucking miss her, man. It’s barely been a week and I’m so… incomplete. And no amount of school counseling or journaling or whatever inspirational quote my homeroom teacher wants to share with me is going to fill the void she left behind.”

Mindy wipes away her tears. For the first time since we left Dr. Stone’s office, she looks right at me.

“I know you had your fight or whatever the night before, and if that were me I’d be torn up about it. But seriously, Y/N, you had nothing to do with it. After everything with… Amber, last year, she needed a friend. One that she wasn’t trauma-bonded with, like Chad and me. And you showed up at the right time. She loved you, man.”

My head is spinning. I’m wracked with all sorts of conflicting guilt, grief, anger, whatever, and I can’t tell anyone about it.

So I get up and start walking towards the nearby locker room.

“Wait, Y/N, what are you doing?” Mindy calls. I don’t answer.

I can hear her get up and follow after me, but it’s been at least two hours since I’ve gone to the bathroom. At this point, I don’t care if someone watches my regimen– I need to be clean.

Turning into the locker room, I make a beeline for the sinks. I get close to the mirror, close enough to make out my pores. and stare down my reflection. After that harrowing edition of a trademark Mindy monologue, it doesn’t take long for me to recall Tara’s face. I wash my hands once, twice, three times, four times.

“Jesus, Y/N, seriously, what are you doing?” Mindy watches from behind, her voice still shaky from crying.

Five times, six times, seven times, and it’s still not enough. I’m breathing hard at this point, but I can’t get enough air. There’s blood everywhere, all over me, my clothes, even on Mindy. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the showers. Perfect. I rush over to the nearest stall and turn the handle.

I don’t undress before stepping under the showerhead, letting the freezing water overtake me.

taglist: @miawastakens

#scream 6 #ethan landry #ethan landry fanfiction #scream 2023 #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #heathers #heathers au #high school au #jack champion #scream fanfic #scream 6 fanfic #scream vi

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steffigraf · 4 months

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warning for a clearly anxiety-ridden oversharing freakout below the cut. sorry. i’m too sensitive and i’m unfortunately acutely aware of it.

tldr; im being a drama queen. gonna take a tumblr break for a week or two. to my mutuals, feel free to dm for my insta. i’ll be active until i wake up tomorrow morning and then i’m gonna zip

gonna preface this by saying this is in no way directed to the people whom i actually talk to constantly on here like you lot were lovely and im just dealing with a lot of demons in my head :(

anyway. sometimes i feel more like a product manufacturer than a person on here. and idk. i know most of you guys are really just following me for gifs and content and whatever but. yeah. idk. i guess the things i say don’t matter to anyone unless it’s funny. or if people want to call me out. not that im mad abt that exactly btw i do appreciate when people respectfully call me out for my own mistakes but. sometimes. i feel like im in a fishbowl and you’re all just waiting for me to say something wrong and cancel me. or then again, maybe most of you already think im a shit person and you just stay for the gifs. or maybe you guys think i’m a loser who has nothing to do but spend all day on this goddamn website.

and i know, somewhere inside me, that that’s not true and that it’s clearly the anxiety talking. maybe it’s just me maybe i’m making this up in my head i dunno. but i’m just kinda tired right now. too tired to battle the anxiety like usual at least. and i don’t really feel wanted outside of the content i produce, beyond the notes of my gifs or my fun posts. which ik shouldn’t matter but. i’m a pathological people pleaser etc etc.

(god, seeing this all typed out, i can’t even fucking blame you guys if you actly don’t like me cause. i kinda wanna shake myself by the shoulders and tell myself get a grip girl the world doesn’t revolve around you shut up shut up shut your damn mouth—)

i’ve been trying to manage by unfollowing and blocking a few people (which btw, if i did that to you and we used to be mutuals, it’s probably nothing personal i mostly just kept people i’m a bit closer to). but i’m still not really settled. and considering how i’m posting like every other day about feeling like shit, you guys probably figured that out lmao.

and well. on a separate note. seeing that rat’s name alone is too much for me sometimes. i couldn’t watch his game with carlos. i spent hours in his match with daniil turned away from the television, wearing noise canceling headphones while trying (and failing) to talk myself down from a full blown anxiety attack. i’ve said this before but the way people talk about him, both the fucked up silence and the justified outrage, it reminds me way too much about a family problem i have right now. hits uncomfortably close to home. prior to this i kinda thought i’d made my peace with the whole family situation but no apparently not. had he won the semis, i wasn’t even sure if i would be able to stomach cheering for jannik if it meant having to watch that man play.

so. idk. between the way actual tennis has been making me feel and the way tennisblr in general has seemed for me lately, i figure i need some space.

long story short ive been spending way too much time on tumblr this ao. and its gotten really bad for my mental health i guess. so i think i need to take maybe a week or two, to clear my head. watch tennis without opening this app every other point. spend time with people i love. get back to therapy. try to be a functioning adult.

(this is so fucking dramatic for a goddamn week of no tumblr i know that and i want to smack myself upside the head because why am i like this why do i make things snowball why why why—)

anyway. yeah. that’s it. if you actually read through all of that then. thanks. if not it’s okay too.

to my mutuals, the ones whom i’ve had at least some form of friendly interaction with in replies or dms, you can ask for my insta account btw. not that i’m crazy active on there but like. if you guys wanna be friends beyond the anonymity of this yknow. no pressure though.

#sorry to get all sad again #been editing this on my drafts all day #ive not been in a good headspace lately #*

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