Tumgik
#they make me so emo *clenches fist*
lanshappycorner · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Have you heard of the Shroud brothers? (ft. human ortho)
4K notes · View notes
autisticlancemcclain · 2 months
Text
secret santa for @leenfiend
“And you two…”
Shiro turns to look at them both, eyes narrowed, hand on his hip. Even being half-held up by Allura, Keith wants to straighten up on reflex, dust off his armour, stand at attention. He breaks away from the heavy stare, glancing over at Lance, only to find him already looking. He sneers when Keith makes eye contact, and in seconds they’re turning away from each other, scowling.
“Yeah,” Shiro sighs, looking down at his comm. “Yeah, I gotta do something about you two.”
———
The something, it turned out, was busywork.
Keith thinks he might strangle his brother. Keith knows he and Lance have been…difficult, the past few weeks — although for the life of him he could not tell you why — but sending them on some stupid mission that was so clearly just meant to waste time was just insulting.
Keith huffs, looking at the mission file again.
MISSION FILE: 24-62-XC
OBJECTIVE: find bananas. or something i dunno
PERSONEL: idiot a and idiot b. shiro said to erase that and write your names but your bickering has been driving me insane so no. suffer
LOCATION: Kunedg-12-2
DANGER LEVEL: none unless you kill each other lol
He reminds himself to mess around on Pidge’s laptop the next time she leaves it unsupervised. This whole stupid file is embarrassing, but the disrespect of the mission objective has to be the worst part. She couldn’t even bother pretending to come up with one.
“Could you maybe go brood somewhere else?” Lance snarks, startling him out of his thoughts. He lifts a delicate hand off the joystick to pinch his nose like something reeks. “Your emo-ness is throwing off my vibe and your angsty sweaty hormones are stinking up the place. Maybe go sit near the garbage shoot, or something.”
Keith bites back a growl, fists clenching at his side. “I smell fine.”
“Like finely chopped onions, maybe. Yuck.”
“That doesn’t even make sense!”
Discreetly, Keith lifts up his arm and takes a whiff. He scowls harder — he smells like the same space brand deodorant they all use. Lance is just being a dick for no reason, like he always is, like what got them into this stupid mess in the first place.
“Just — land the damn Lion, Lance. Try not to kill us.”
Even though he was trying to be insulting, Keith regrets it as soon as he says it. Lance’s back goes ramrod straight, like he was zapped with Pidge’s bayard, and the temp in the cockpit drops thirty degrees.
“Lance —”
“Do not even attempt to finish that sentence,” he hisses. His hands wrapping around the controls are slow and deliberate. His shoulders are straight as a ruler.
Keith sighs, tipping his head back and letting it thunk on the back of the chair. He should’ve — goddamn it. He’s not sure what he should have done, but they might as well turn around now and go back to everyone else. They could stay on this planet for days, now, and Lance won’t so much as look at him. Keith is sure of it.
“Better hold tight. Might slip on the control and oops! Mercy me. I’m so clumsy and careless, I might just kill us.”
The Blue-turned -Red Paladin accompanies every biting remark with a sharp jerk of the thrusters, shaking the whole lion around. Red must be happy to help, because the smoothness that Keith knows should usually accompany her movements is nowhere to be found — she’s letting Lance yank them around to his heart’s content. Keith doesn’t have much of a connection to her anymore, but he can almost feel the impression of her snapping her tail in indignation.
He grits his teeth, determined not to give Lance the satisfaction of reacting. Even as they do nauseating barrel roll after barrel roll, even after Lance dives and dips like a crazy person, even after he lifts his hands off the controls and lets them drop, totally free falling — Keith says nothing.
At least, not until he hears a soft, “Oh, shoot.”
“‘Oh shoot’ what?” he asks cautiously, knowing this might be a trap. If Lance bites back with oh, so you really don’t trust me to pilot!, Keith is genuinely going to stomp over there and strangle him.
“Um. So. Buckle up,” Lance says, and Keith has to bite back a scream of frustration.
Lance is no longer pulling wildly at the controls, intentionally driving like it’s the first time he’s seen an aircraft. His posture is careful and relaxed, shoulders loose and easily moveable. But his jaw is clenched, like he does when he’s stressed, and Keith begins to notice a flashing light in the corner of the stats display.
“Lance.”
“Everything is under control,” he says quickly.
“…Lance.”
“We’re not going to crash or anything,” he amends. “I didn’t — screw it up.”
He glances backwards, quickly meeting Keith’s eye, and Keith notices that his expression is pleading. Keith swallows the comment he wants to make and nods.
“But. Uh, the comm line to the team is cut off. Not sure why. Maybe the planet has bad signal? It was fine coming in. I’ll land and then we can investigate?”
It takes Keith a minute to realize that Lance is asking him. That Lance is looking at him to lead, as if Keith has ever ordered Lance around. As if it hasn’t been two ye — months. At least.
Keith clears his throat, looking away. “Yeah, dude. You’re piloting, your mission. Whatever you think is best.”
For once, Keith has said the right thing. The confirmation of control runs through Lance like a shiver, and a mix of confusion and relief and precious, precious hope flits through his dark eyes almost faster than Keith can register, then he’s turning back to face the control board.
“Cool. Hold on, there’s not much to land on here so it’ll be bumpy.”
It is bumpy. Honestly, Keith is surprised at how deftly Lance and Red land, for all he has to clench his hands around the armrests — this planet is truly just a thick nest of towering trees and curling vines. Lance has to slink Red between two trees and have her land curled around the base of one, because there just isn’t any space for her to touch down regularly.
“You managed not to kill us,” Keith tries, smiling.
Lance stares at him critically for a moment. Then, wonderfully, beautifully, miraculously, his expression clears, and he decides Keith is being genuine. The tiniest of smiles turn up his own lips, and he shrugs.
“Well, duh. I’m the best pilot out of the two of us, after all. Let’s go.”
He’s out the door before Keith can retort — maybe something along the lines of you literally ruin every single bonding moment we have ever had you actual twerp-brained fucker — and Keith is quick to follow. Any attempt at dialogue dies on his tongue the second he’s exposed to the outside air — and the wall of wet heat that slams into him like a bull stampeding in the wrong direction.
“Jesus H Christ on a one wheeled motorbike,” he wheezes. Every inch of his skin is immediately drenched in sweat. He’s never regretted his gloves more, and wishes with every fibre of his being that he’d actually listened to Shiro for once and worn his (temperature- controlled) paladin armour.
Lance ignores him, beam lighting up his face. “Oh, it’s beautiful here!”
Keith can actually feel his shirt cling to his back like a second skin. It’s disgusting.
“Huh?”
Because yeah, the planet might be pretty. It’s almost greener than Keith can comprehend – trees so tall Keith can’t even see the canopy; trunks covered in moss and vines; wide-leafed, curling bushes and plants; tropical flowers making the air smell sweet and fragrant. Keith watches as a gecko patters down a branch to rest in a patch of dappled sunlight. Pretty, sure.
But Keith is pretty sure he’s actually breathing in water. The air is so goddamn humid he’s not sure there’s actually any air in it, and he is sticky. Beautiful places are not sticky. 
Lance is already frolicking around like a goddamn nature fairy. He tugs off his jacket, tying it around his waist, but other than that he seems to revel in the humidity, breathing in deeply like he’s used to inhaling what is essentially gasified mist instead of air. He grins at the greenery like it’s familiar, despite the fact that they’ve never even glanced at this entire quadrant the entire time they’ve been in space, let alone this planet.
“You live to thrive wherever I do not,” Keith mutters, irrationally angry at Lance’s lack of suffering. He scowls at his back and says, louder, “We have a mission.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lance dismisses, still in the trance-like glee. He twirls around to face a huge, fern like plant, reaching up to caress the leaves and pet the back of a beetle. “You and I both know it’s busywork.“
“Yeah, well, it’s an official mission and we’re Paladins of Voltron, so. Personally I take that pretty seriously.”
It’s a low blow, as bad or worse as his piloting comment earlier. He winces as soon as he says it – Jesus, when did he start trying to piss Lance off – but luckily Lance doesn’t hear or doesn’t care, already twenty feet down some random path. Keith groans quietly and stomps after him.
Ten minutes ago, Lance could have suggested they turn around and leave and Keith would’ve been on-board. Now, as stupid as it is, Lance’s delight in this planet annoys him. It’s not fair that he’s amusing himself, and Keith is miserable. They’re supposed to both be miserable.
Somehow, though, he manages to keep his commentary to himself. Part of it is watching as Lance seems to…glow, on this planet, as strange as that is to notice. The giant smile has not left his face, and the yellow sunlight trickling through the leaves looks good on him. He hums as he walks, dancing under bent branches, even refraining from holding them back so Keith can get through and waiting until Keith is just barely past before snapping the branch back so Keith gets smacked in the face. And that’s one of his favourite hobbies.
He must be in a really good mood, if he’s not finding an excuse to smack Keith.
“Can we find some stupid fruit or something and get out of here,” Keith complains, finally having had enough. Have they actually been hiking for hours? Keith feels like he’s been hiking for hours. He feels like he’s seen the same eight plants nine hundred times. Everything has coalesced into a sea of green and he’s hot, goddamnit, and he’s never regretted an all-black ensemble more in his life. Maybe he listens to Shiro next time. Well, unlikely, but –
Something smacks him in the face, and he yelps. 
He bends down to grab the weapon, seething as he hears Lance’s snickering, and comes up with some kind of round, firm…thing.
“Fruit,” Lance supplies. “Feel free to head back to Red. You go back to the others and they’ll send your ass right back, catboy. You know as well as I do.”
Keith knows this. Of course he does. But it pisses him off that Lance is so blase about it, like Keith doesn’t know, that he clenches the fruit-thing in his fists and actually does stomp back to Red, leaving Lance to take a hike. 
“God he is so annoying,” he mutters to no one, aggressively biting the fruit. It’s delicious, which only serves to make him angrier. He puts on a high, mocking voice. “You go back to the others and they’ll send you back, blah blah blah. As if I don’t know that. As if I’m dumb.”
It’s relieving to get back into Red’s interior. It’s not exactly AC, but it certainly isn’t humid central, and any break from that heat is a welcome one. He sits heavily in the pilot’s chair, relishing in the familiarity of it, and sulks.
Or, well, he tries to.
The thing about sulking is that it gets very boring very quickly. That’s why he usually expresses his sulking through incredible violence, and why he misses the castle’s training room so much. That place was great. All Keith had to do was press a button and boom, he was being attacked. The literal dream.
Bored, he swings his legs over the armrest, opening his bayard and examining it. It’s weird to have such a contentious thing. Knowing all the blood it spilled in Zarkon’s name…it’s no wonder that his brother was so quick to get rid of it. But still, it’s a tool. A tool cannot be blamed for its master’s action, that much Keith had learned in the Blades.
He lets the blade glow and shrink in his hold until its back in its dormant position. He can’t very well train in here, as much as he would like to. Both Red and Lance would kill him, probably. 
Red makes a keening noise in his head. It’s the loudest he’s heard from her in…too long, and it startles him.
“What?”
Her presence in his head gets stronger, more insistent.
“What?” he repeats, sitting straight up. “What, girl, what’s going on?”
He yelps as the floor shifts under him – Red stands up, unwinding herself from around the tree. A growl reverberates through the entire ship, making the control board vibrate. A bad feeling begins to take root somewhere in his stomach.
“Red?! Red, what’s –”
Before he can finish, she opens her great maw, and literally spits him out. She doesn’t leave him time to get offended, nudging him forward the second he gets to his feet. She growls again when he looks back at her, tilting her head at the path Lance disappeared down.
All at once, Keith gets it.
He sprints. Bayard elongating in his hand, he runs as fast as he can, hacking away branches and vines with ease – when he chances a look down, he sees that it’s taken the form of a machete. His first bayard change.
He does not have time to celebrate it. 
He can barely hear it over the sound of his own pounding feet, but there’s a rumbling, somewhere in the distance. Keith has been hearing it for a while – he thought it was Red, or maybe just jungle noises.
Now, he hears the human voice responding to it.
Something is wrong.
“Please don’t be doing something stupid,” he prays, pushing himself faster. It’s not easy. Keith is in good shape, but the humidity is knocking the hell out of him – every breath feels like it’s getting half the oxygen it should. He’s tiring fast. But the noises are getting louder, closer, and yep, that’s definitely Lance’s voice. Keith isn’t exactly sure what he’s saying, but he knows the voice, of course he knows the voice, it’s the only one that never left his head once in two years. In a last burst of strength, he sprints toward the sound, slashing a near-solid block of vines. 
He slashes the last layer of vines back, thrusting forward, and very heroically lands on his face.
“Lance!” he shouts, jumping back to his feet. He whirls around, sure this is where he heard the growls interspersed with Lance’s murmuring. But he can’t see him anywhere.
“Here,” sighs a voice.
Keith looks up and barely chokes back a scream. 
Swinging from a vine, wrapped up to his neck in a cocoon of them, is Lance – but it isn’t a vine. It’s thick like one, and smooth, but bright white. And…gloopy, almost, because Lance is not wrapped in a bunch of vines but in strands and strands of silk, and perched on – or maybe clinging to – his swinging body is the biggest spider Keith has ever seen. 
“Get off him!” Keith yells, proud of himself for how little his voice shakes.
“Oh, great plan, Keith. Order the animal around. I’m sure it’ll heed your demands and cut me free.”
Keith flushes. “Shut up,” he hisses. “Victims of Miss Spider’s Sunny Patch Gone Wrong don’t get to snark!”
Lance shrugs. “You’re welcome to climb on up here and get me to shut up.”
As if in understanding, the spider hisses, scuttling down Lance’s body and lunging towards Keith, snapping its fangs. Keith shrieks and jumps back. Luckily, the spider doesn’t go past Lance’s head.
“She’s outta webs,” Lance explains. He doesn’t even flinch as the spider’s massive butt – spinnerets and all – rest on his forehead. Keith gags. “She won’t get too close to you, you’re too threatening –”
“I’m threatening?!”
“– so you’re in no danger. You can put the weapon away.”
“Put the weapon away – Lance, did it already suck out your brains?”
Lance glares hard at him. The effect is significantly lessened as the string of webbing he’s hanging from slowly turns, forcing his eyes away from Keith, and then also, well. The massive fuckin’ bug sitting on his forehead. So.
“No, she didn’t suck out my brains. She’s an animal, Keith, not dumb. Eating me would be stupid and a massive waste. I’m too big. I just freaked her out, is all. I should’ve been more careful in approaching her web.”
Keith places his face in his hands and yells. Just – screams, for a minute. He can’t believe he ever missed this asshole. He lived two blissful, blissful years without having to deal with any of this shit. 
And now, massive spiders. 
Great.
“I hate you,” Keith says. 
Lance nods, shrugging again. “Fair. Can’t leave without me, though.”
“I think I might. I’ll tell Allura you died tragically. Moment of silence, blah blah. Then I go home and have a lovely, quiet flight the whole time.”
“Hm, that won’t work. Hunk will be desolate. Inconsolable, I would even say.”
Keith sighs. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, matching Lance’s grin. He cannot believe his own brain’s betrayal, allowing itself to be amused by Lance’s stupid jokes. 
“What am I gonna do about the spider, Lance.”
At its – hers, whatever – name, it hisses again. Lance remains unphased. He wriggles a little, even, as if the sharp fangs aren’t inches away from his eyeballs.
“I’m working on it, gimme a sec.”
Keith aquieses. He wants to slash through the stupid binds and be done with everything, but he’s worried that the spider might be faster than he is and hurt Lance before he can get the chance. If he can just find a way to smack the spider off…
“Hm. I got an idea. Keith, grab my comm.”
Keith bites back a comment about who should be ordering whom around, edging gingerly around the hissing spider to scoop up Lance’s dropped comm. He clicks it on, tapping in Lance’s password – 3425, spelling D-I-C-K – and holding it loosely in his freehand.
“Got it.”
“Great. Okay, open my spider translator app.”
“Your – what.”
“Spider translator app,” Lance explains patiently. “Been working on it with Coran. Spiders communicate mostly via pheromones, but a lot of ‘em use clicks, especially threateningly. I remember how to say ‘hi’ and ‘no harm’, and I think I remember the sound for ‘food’? But I’m not sure and I don’t want to say ‘no harm food’ but accident, or something dumb like that, ‘cause then she might get the wrong idea. I’m hoping for something closer to ‘no food’ or ‘bad food’. I think she kind of gets it, but she’s still spooked. If I click at her she might think I’m another spider, let me go. If all else fails we’ll use the pheromones Coran and I have stored in Red’s shipping dock, but that stuff really reeks and doesn’t really wash out so I’d rather not.”
Keith’s head starts to hurt. Vaguely, he starts to wonder if he hit his head somewhere and is now dreaming, but unfortunately this brand of weird is pretty regular Lance. It’s just been a while since Keith has been in full force of it. 
Plus, Coran has clearly been enabling. 
“I have Seen Things,” Keith says, stabbing at the stupid comm. The app is front and centre. It is used more than the actual communication app, Keith knows that because he finds the stupid spider app in seconds and literally cannot find the communication app. He is going to kill this boy, the second he makes sure he’s safe. “So many things in space, Lance. So many of them horrible. So many of them strange. You remember the blob people that talked by pissing? I remember the blob people that talked by pissing. That is less weird than this, Lance.”
The translation app is pretty intuitive. Keith will give him that. He finds a translation for ‘bad food’ pretty quickly, but can’t read what it says for the life of him. He glances up, taking in the spider and the sheer fucking size of it, and slowly extends his hand so Lance can see the comm screen. His fingers tremble ever so slightly. 
Lance has to strain his neck slightly to see the screen. Keith resists the urge to yell. But he quickly makes a series of clicks and tongue-sounds, attracting even more of the spider’s attention. It stares at him with all eight of its eyes for several minutes.
Then it turns, scuttling slightly away from Lance’s face. Keith lets out a huge sigh of relief – too soon – as the spider sinks its fangs in Lance’s chest.
Keith screams.
“Will you chill out!” Lance scolds. Keith’s screams only get louder, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “She is eating the silk, Keith, Jesus, stop yelling! I’m fine!”
“I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you –”
In minutes there’s a thunk, and a muffled “Ow.” When Keith looks up, Lance is sprawled on the ground, rubbing his wrist, and the spider is nowhere to be found.
“Are you physically fucking capable,” he says slowly, “of just – not doing stupid shit? Like at all? Maybe once.”
“Like you’re one to talk,” Lance retorts. He has a startling amount of dignity for someone with spider silk in his hair, still sat on the hard ground. “Your ass got stuck on the back of some whale for two years. Embarrassing.”
It is embarrassing, so Keith can’t retort. He makes a face and hopes it’s sufficient, but then Lance makes one right back, and he looks so fucking stupid in the fucking jungle and also kind of good for some reason and Keith’s heart is just barely slowing down, now, and his hands still shake and Lance just spoke fucking spider and Keith just.
He loses it, a little. 
He starts laughing and he can’t stop, and its so stupid, and he’s so fucking hot. His knees get weak and he’s landing on his ass, gasping for breath, Lance wheezing as he leans against Keith for support that he can’t even give. Who knows what other horrors lay in this stupid jungle – he and Lance are so loud they’re practically inviting them over – but Keith can’t stop for the life of him. His brain feels disconnected from his body. His stomach hurts so freaking badly. Every time he looks at Lance he loses it again. 
“Please take the fucking silk out of your hair,” he tries to say. Every word is interrupted by a wheezy giggle, so it doesn’t do much, but luckily Lance runs his hands through his hair anyways and it clings to his fingers instead. 
He calms, finally, keeping his attention on the strand of white silk, watching Lance’s thin fingers fiddle with it. He finally manages to calm down, too, taking huge breaths and trying to steady himself. 
“So,” Lance says when they can breathe again, “I’m sorry.”
“You should be, asshole. I thought you were gonna get eaten.”
“Oh, I’m not sorry about the spider. That was an honest misunderstanding.”
Keith sighs. For his own peace of mind, he convinces himself that Lance is joking. “What are you sorry for, then?”
Lance fiddles with the edge of his jacket. Keith notices, for the first time, that the tightly woven silk left red, raised welts around his skin. It must have been tight.
“I’ve been. A little. Standoff-ish. Perhaps.”
Keith snorts. “A little?”
“A lot,” Lance amends, smiling. He punches Keith’s shoulder. It is not gentle. “I missed you, Dropout. I didn’t expect to, and I didn’t like that I did. Misplaced aggression, all that.”
“You’ve matured remarkably in my absence,” Keith observes. He dodges Lance’s kick, but only barely. His smile hurts his face. “You’re almost, like…a real, functioning person now.”
“I take it back. You’re annoying. I didn’t miss you, all the letters I wrote you are a lie, in fact you can actually fuck right back off –”
Keith stills. “Letters.”
“– to the space whale, actually. See if I care.” Lance clears his throat. His face is getting steadily more flushed, and oh God it has nothing to do with the heat does it. “I don’t, in case that’s unclear –”
“Lance,” Keith says, a little more forcefully. Because – because oh God, this means. This means. “What do you mean, letters?”
“A new alphabet I came up with in my spare time,” Lance snaps, shoving Keith back and getting to his feet. “What do you think, you idiot.”
He tries to walk off, but Keith doesn’t let him. He wraps his hand around his wrist and tugs him back – too forcefully, accidentally, and Lance yelps as he stumbles right into Keith’s lap. Keith doesn’t stop him from moving frantically back, a little warm himself.
“Lance.” His tone is urgent. “Lance, I wrote you letters too.”
Finally, he stops squirming. “You did?”
“Yes. I don’t know if I can – I mean, I don’t have any here, but they’re stashed in Black, I couldn’t leave – oh.”
Lance’s lips are pressed to his.
Lance’s lips. 
Are pressed.
To his.
Lance is kissing him.
“Oh – oh.”
“Man, you really are an idiot.” 
His harsh words are significantly softened because they’re, y’know, mumbled into his mouth. Keith can’t quite bring himself to complain about that one, really, since Lance is warm but not suffocatingly slow and his mouth keeps curving into a smile and his lips are soft and. And. For once he’s too preoccupied to pick a real fight. 
Keith can live with him like this, he thinks.
“My letters.” Keith pulls away slightly, clearing his throat. “You can’t. Read them.”
Lance tilts his head. “Why?”
Embarrassed, Keith gestures between the two of them. “This didn’t – occur to me, Lance. So.”
A shit-eating grin curls across the Red Paladin’s face. “What didn’t occur to you, hot stuff?”
“You know,” Keith warns, glaring. His ears feel like they’re burning, and not just because of the stupid nickname. 
“I don’t!”
“You do, asshole, because you’re smirking like you do.” “No need to get presumptuous, Keithy. I simply do not understand. What didn’t occur to you –” he leans in again, breath tickling Keith’s neck and making him shudder – “me? Like…this? Close to you?” He presses a small kiss to the underside of Keith’s jaw. “...Liking you, maybe?” Keith’s breathing is embarrassingly heavy for what’s barely a little kissing. He tries desperately to get himself under control, but with Lance so, so close… “Or was it yourself you didn’t understand, hm? Wax a lot of poetic about me in those letters?”
Keith did. It’s true. He remembers one humiliating instance where he, in frustration of forgetting the details, tried to map out Lance’s face – the freckles that dot his nose, the shine of his brown eyes when he makes a perfect shot, the curve of his wide grin. He’s pretty sure ‘sparkling’ was used in description at least twice, which is…bad. 
In a last ditch effort, Keith gets his hands on Lance’s chest, lays his palms back, and shoves. When he’s flat on his back against the jungle floor, eyes wide and head tilted back to watch Keith’s face, Keith kisses him quiet. 
It works.
It works very well.
“Okay, we gotta – we gotta – not that this isn’t great, it is, but we gotta –”
Finally, Lance is the flustered one, the wordless one. Keith relishes in the feeling.
“Keith, get off, we –”
Finally, Lance succeeds in pushing Keith back. He rests on his heels, pouting (and subsequently ignoring the fact that he’s pouting, because, what kind of witchcraft).
“We have to go,” Lance says sternly. “Okay? We can – do this later. We gotta get back.”
Keith huffs. “They’re the ones who sent us away. They can deal for a few hours.”
“It’s been a few hours,” Lance reminds him. “Let’s just go, okay? Lots of excitement for one day.” He tilts his head back, smirking. “If we leave now I’ll set Red on autopilot and we can make out on the way back.”
Cold air in Red’s cockpit? Backdrop of stars and space? Somewhere to be that isn’t a jungle floor?
“Sold,” Keith says, hastily getting to his feet. The walk back to the Lion is the least complaining Keith has ever done about anything, even in his own head. 
Right before they walk into Red’s waiting and open mouth, Lance plucks a yellow, curved fruit from a tree. He tosses it to Keith, grinning widely.
“Mission accomplished.”
–––
happy holidays colleen :DD
279 notes · View notes
babychoso · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Pretty - Shota Aizawa
word count - 3K synopsis - shota aizawa would do anything for you, even if it meant going past his comfort zone. warnings - she/her reader, drunk! reader, aizawa is the king of consent lets be real, coercion, reader is a horny mess but so is aizawa, aizawa is S-O-F-T for reader lemme tell you, some kissing, grinding, heavy petting (maybe?), dub-con if you squint, idk this was entirely self indulgent im not gonna lie to you minors do not interact
It's not like this was the first time he'd seen you utterly shit-faced. No, not in the slightest. He's known you for years, since high school when he was just a floppy haired emo boy and you were a goddess that decided three dorks were her best friends. He's seen you drunk countless times over the years, thanks to Mic and his ability to make you forget you are a grown up. A Pro-Hero at that. But you were too persuaded by your friends' efforts to have a good time. Shot after shot after shot- Aizawa lost count after the fifth double shot that you pounded back, giggling with Mic as Aizawa watched you wipe the liquor that was trailing down your chin.  He should have known right then he was in for a hell of a night.
"Okay, just..shit.. okay.." He's struggling, he really is, between your limp body held to his chest by his strong arm that's wrapped around your waist and the effort it took to get you here, in his apartment, he's more than happy to tuck you to sleep in his bed and call it a night on the couch. Expect you're not only drunk, you're high. High off some dank smelling stuff Midnight pulled out of her purse while you were all waiting for the cab. Aizawa loves his friends but sometimes he loathes them so completely it drives him mad. Face pinched tight, the tips of his ears blushed a deep crimson. That's how he looked standing beside you outside the bar as you swayed and laughed as you hit the thick blunt Mic passed you. 
He drops you as carefully as he can onto his large couch, winded and tired as he tosses his keys on the coffee table and loosens his tie. You lay there giggling to yourself as you stare up at him, your eyes redder than his at this point. His hair is tucked back in a loose attempt at a half up bun, the strands that normally lay over his eyes tucked neatly behind his ears, and his face is clean shaven and flushed from lugging your nearly limp body up the stairs.
"You're so pretty." You coo and fuck if it doesn't make his stomach flip- but you're drunk. Completely wasted in fact and he knew it when you had told Mic before the two of you had left that you thought he was an amazing singer. Aizawa knows for a fact that's a lie. 
"Yeah, yeah. You're so fucking gone. How does your body even handle that much alcohol?" His voice is gruff but there's a fondness in it. Because of course there is. He loves you. Has loved you since said emo days. It's never stopped, never ceased in the slightest. Why else would he deal with your excessively drunk ass? 
You stretch, either completely ignoring or just not hearing his words, stretch nice and big with your arms thrown over you head and your back arched sharply. A hollow moan rumbles out of your mouth and through his apartment and his eyes flicker to the velvet skirt of your dress that has fallen so dangerously close to exposing you. Aizawa looks at the ceiling, jaw clenching, fist balled up in the pockets of his black slacks. 
"So pretty.." Your voice is far off, a gentle murmur to yourself as you keep staring at him like he put the stars in the night sky. 
"Don't be ridiculous." He says about your comment because.. yeah, you're definitely beyond drunk right now. "You need to sleep this off, gonna feel like shit tomorrow."
It's like you dont even fucking hear him. 
"Mm, but I mean it. Think about you so much." You smooth your bare foot down his slack covered thigh, your mouth parted and pretty as you say, "So pretty and kind and strong, drive me crazy, Sho." 
Aizawa can't fucking breathe. Heart pounding in his chest as he looks down at the sight of you, looking so fucked out but he hasn't even touched you. No, this was all your own doing. 
No. This was the alcohol. The weed. You didn't mean it, you were just fucked up. 
"Angel." His voice is a warning and fuck if he can't see the way it makes your whole body shiver. Oh, this isn't good. "You are way too drunk and I am way too sober to have this conversation right now."
"I'm not that drunk!" Expect it's all slurred words and mashed teeth and if you weren't looking at him like you might consume his soul he might have laughed at that. "Don't you want me, Shota?" 
God, his face is burning, dick twitching in his slacks and it washes deep shame through his body. He feels like he's fucking short circuiting, his resolve wobbling like your bottom lip as you look up at him with your most appealing doe eyes. 
"How about, uh, I.. I make you something to eat and then you can sleep this off?" His voice is held together by a wavering thread, words filling his dry mouth as fast as he can form them. He can't do this right now. He needs you to carry your ass to sleep so he can go take care of the massive problem you've brought to life in his pants. 
You sit up, teetering only slightly as you lean you head against the back of the couch and groan, rubbing your thighs together and fuck, Aizawa is doing everything he can to not think about that. You're so….needy. 
"I don't wanna eat, I want you." You peer up at him, and he knows what you're about to do before you even do it. What's worse? He knows he's gonna fucking fall for it. Like he always does. "I guess you don't want me though.." 
Your voice is pathetic, breathy and wounded, and your face is so downtrodden, that frown so deep it sends a pain through Aizawa's heart like a dagger. 
He sits on the couch quickly, locking his gaze on your watery eyes. Fuck, you were actually crying about this. Aizawa wants to die when his dick twitches at the sight of a lone tear tracking down the pretty apple of your cheek. You do things to him, things that no one else is able to do and the worst part is you don't even have to try.
"I didn't say I didn't want you." He says cautiously, thumb wiping the tears away as you turn to him with that fucking pout that never fails to work on him. 
You lean into the warmth of his hand, your own fingers coming to wrap tight around his wrist to keep him there. 
"But.. you keep saying no." You pout and he wants to kiss it off your face. 
"No. I'm saying you're drunk and I'm not gonna take advantage of my best friend because she's drunk. That's not me." His voice is stern. Resolute. But then your mouth parts and the tip of your pretty pink tongue swipes over the tip of his thumb and he almost loses his shit right then and there. 
"You're not taking advantage of me if I want it." You say so coyly and Aizawa snatches his hand back, points an accusing finger at your wicked smiling face. 
"You can't want it if you're drunk, Angel. Stop fighting me on it. The answer is no." He's steady and authoritative on the outside but on the inside his heart is pounding, cock aching within its confines. All Aizawa can really think is "What the fuck is going on?" He'd never seen you act like this before. 
"Okay." You sigh sadly, voice small. You seem to curl in on yourself as you sit next to him but then your head pops up and the hair on the back of his neck stands on end when you press him with the most innocent look. If he didn't know you, he might have fallen for it, but he does know you. Knows that you're a manipulative little shit when you wanted to be, especially when it's to get him to do something he doesn't wanna do. 
"What about.." You start and he's about to cut you off before you can even say whatever ridiculous shit you've managed to think of in the messy state you're in, but he's not quick enough. "Just one little kiss, please Shota?" 
"No, absolutely not." But his stomach does this stupid little flip just at the thought and he can't not look down at your lips. You catch him, eyes glinting as you scoot a little closer. You may be a Pro-Hero but you are a fucking evil women. Sinful in a way that Aizawa isn't sure he can stay away from, no matter his moral compass. 
"Just one itty bitty kiss and I'll go to bed like a good girl, I promise, Sho." You look so good saying it, and sound even better. But Shota Aizawa is not a fool and Shota Aizawa has known you far too long to let something so hormonal ruin one of his most treasured friendships, even if he did want you so badly it was tearing him up inside. 
You shuffle closer, right hand coming down softly on his thigh and his whole body freezes. His eyes slant as he looks over to you. 
"I said-" 
"You won't be doing anything wrong, Shota. I know you'd never take advantage of me." You lean in, ghost you breath across his neck and Aizawa seriously can't fucking breathe. "You're the best friend a girl could ask for, Sho, I know you'd never hurt me " 
Your voice is honey dipped venom and Aizawa's chest seizes when your thumb starts stroking a soft line up and down his thigh. 
No, no, no, no, no. Fuccckk.
Your lips look so soft, bitten and shiny with your spit and so close. He imagines you taste like whiskey and cherries and the spearmint chapstick you made him put in his pocket so you didn't lose it. 
"I…I.." 
"I promise I'll be so good, just for you." 
"Only one." He says and….wait what the fuck did he say? His brain has betrayed him, or maybe it was his dick, doesn't matter when there isn't anytime to process what the fuck he's just agreed to. 
You're pressing your lips to his as his mind flounders, your nails digging into the meat of his thigh as you taste him for the first time after all these years. 
You moan so loud and lewdly, it ricochets around his living room, and his head, and his heart. The sound sends a shiver down both of your spines. You taste just like he thought you would, plush lips pushed against his own. The kiss wasn't anything special but because it was you it was the hottest kiss Aizawa has ever had. 
Only one. Only one. Only one. 
No, he can't, he has to stop this. You taste too sweet, the little moans and whines escaping your throat are doing too much for him. He wants to hear more. Needs to hear more; but not like this. Not when you're drunk. He'd be a horrible friend, a horrible person, if he let this continue. So he pulls away, leaning back, eyes fluttering open, mouth beginning to speak.
He can't get a single fucking thing out when your pushing back towards him, your hands grabbing his face to hold him still. It's him that moans this time, a shocked gaspy moan that you swallow without a second thought. You toss your leg over his lap, grind yourself down against the hard line of his cock beneath his pants. 
This kiss was miles away from the other. Teeth biting against his bottom lip, your tongue licking into his mouth, your hands ruining the bun he had his hair in as you yank the black tie out. And your hips, they won't stop grinding against him, it's so hot but so wrong and that stomach bubbling shame makes its appearance again. He braces his hands on your hips trying, in vain, to stall you but you only work faster. Rutting and whining and whispering his name. 
Oh fuck, oh fuck.
He separates your mouths, bites at his lip when you settle for licking a fat stripe up his neck, sucking just below his ear.
"We can't, we gotta stop." He doesn't know how he manages to get the words out and somehow he's unsure if they even came from him. He's never sounded like this before. What the hell are you doing to him? 
You pin his hands against the back of the couch, something that felt so strange considering he could have you wrapped up in his scarf in barely a second. Except, he doesn't have the scarf at this moment and you've driven his willpower straight into the mud. 
"I'm so sorry, Shota." You whisper into his ear, licking at his ear lobe. "I'm sorry, I just need you so bad."
In that second, with your mouth and hips dizzying his brain, he finally realizes something. 
He wasn't taking advantage of you, you were taking advantage of him. 
The realization hits him so hard he gasps; or maybe that was because you picked that moment to swivel your hips just so that he could feel the way your lips parted under your lace panties and slotted over him. Even through the layers he could feel that wet hot heat. 
"Gotta stop." Was he even trying? "Angel, we have to stop. We g-gotta go to sleep before this gets out of hand." He tries once again to push you away but you only shake your head and clinge tighter, fingers lost in his hair as you chase the release that's been slowly building in your stomach. 
"No." You grit out between this little gasp that has his hands clenching in the skirt of your dress. He doesn't move them, they just sit there gripping the fabric as he thinks about how much of a pathetic weak man he is for letting you trick him like this. "Don't wanna sleep, want you to fill me up. Wanna feel you deep inside me, Shota." You punctate his name with a high pitched whine and that's it, that's all it takes. 
That wavering thread, his moral compass? Gone just from the way you say his name. 
He lunges at you, wraps his hand around the column of your throat and for the first time since you jumped him your hips finally still. 
"You are such a fucking brat." Aizawa growls, squeezing your throat just tight enough to make your head fuzzy. You wanted to play dirty? Fine. He could be dirty too.
He reaches his hand behind you to blindly drag the zipper on the back of your dress down, snatching the front off your shoulders and down your arms. He pulls it down until your bare chest is exposed to him, nipples pebbled in the cool air of his apartment, let's the dress settle around you waist before he's balling his fist in the material and using it to drag your hips against his. 
"Fuckk." He groans, letting his head fall back against the couch. You whimper as you watch him use you now, all that confidence and control gone as you tremble with every grind and rut. He's pushing his hips up into you now, no longer holding back, and the feeling is mind-blowing.
"Shota.." You begin to whisper but he's quickly silencing you with his lips, hungry and searching, as they attack your own. 
"Fucking evil women." He smacks the supple skin of your ass, hard. So hard it has you falling into his chest, burying your nose into his neck. Aizawa grabs the back of your neck with his big hand, presses hard enough that you know that's your place now. You were no longer running the show. 
"Drunk off your fucking ass," he bites out before actually biting into the skin of you shoulder. You whine pathetically, suddenly embarrassed of the sound of your wet soppy cunt humping against his nice trousers. "Can't take no for a fucking answer. Thought you were gonna be a good girl, Angel? What happened to that?" 
You can't speak, your body quivering as you orgasm approaches, a hot white heat that tingles from your head to your toes. You manage to grit out a weak "I'm sorry, Sho.", but it's just about as pathetic as you feel right now. 
"So fuckin' impatient. Why couldn't you have waited till tomorrow?" He grits out, his head spinning. He wouldn't fuck you tonight, that's too far. He knows despite this little performance you've put on that you are in fact still inebriated and he'd never forgive himself if he did something that sober you wouldn't have wanted. But this? If you want to get off so badly, he'll make it happen. 
Because you should know by now- Shota Aizawa would do anything for you. 
"Please." You whimper out even though you're not really sure what you're asking for. But that doesn't matter, because Aizawa knows.
He slips his hand down between the two of you, thumb finding your clit pressed roughly against the wet lace of your panties. He rubs tight, teasing circles over your sensitive nub, kissing and sucking at the soft skin of your chest as he peers up at your pleasure stricken face. You look so beautiful like this, it's addicting, something he's dreamed about for years. To finally experience it though? It was unlike anything he'd imagined, especially when your eyes clamp shut, nails digging into his shoulder as you cum- hard.
"Fuck, Shota!" You gasp around a steady chant of yes yes yes's. "I love you, oh my god, I love you so much, Sho." 
You collapse into his chest, body trembling and jerking every now and then from the small aftershocks that rush through you. He rubs your back as you catch your breath, his lips pressing the sweetest most adoring kisses to your forehead.
"I mean it." You say, breathing heavily through your nose and Shota hums in response as he looks down at where you're cradled to his chest.
"Mean what?" He asks and his breath is ragged, rough sounding. You huff a bit as you adjust your weight in his lap. 
"I'm not that drunk…and that you're pretty…and that..I love you." Your voice is so shy now, so unsure, such a stark comparison from the girl that jumped him only fifteen minutes ago. 
Aizawa feels the heat that rushes to his cheeks, the heavy thud of his heart. He loves you more than you can ever know and hearing you finally say it back, especially while you were grinding against him, was enough to make him cum in his pants.
Which he did. Like a fucking high school kid. It was honestly kinda ridiculous the way you molded him however you wanted to, how he let you do it. He couldn't imagine letting anyone see him the way he allows you to. Only you.
Always you.
"Can we go to sleep now, Angel?" He asks into your temple and you answer with a yawn and a nod, sleepy eyes fluttering shut. 
643 notes · View notes
senmiyaazx · 2 months
Text
TF141 except... something's wrong
a.k.a evil tf141/they're terribly ooc.
crackfic, profanities, gn!reader
It was a normal day, really. It was a very normal day of you waking up with the sun's bright rays in your face. Very normal.
It was normal for you to get up groggily and prepare for the day with a hot mug of coffee in your hand as you made your way to an empty table in the cafeteria.
It was normal for you to hum quietly as you ate your breakfast.
It was normal for Ghost to skip happily towards you as he greeted you in a cheerful, loud voice. "Yo (Name)! Wassup?"
Yeah, very norma— what?
Your jaw was wide open with shock. Before you could say anything, you felt a presence sit beside you.
It was Soap. And his mohawk was spikey.
"The fuck ye gawkin' for?" Soap replied gruffly, sending a not so harsh glare at you.
"Y- Wh- Huh?" You blinked rapidly. Is this some sort of prank?
Ghost had also taken a seat in front of you. His movements looked animated as he leaned closer to you. "(Name), my bro, you okay? You're acting weird."
'Says you?!' You thought.
Okay, maybe this is a prank. Soap would definitely do this but.. Ghost? Who the hell paid him to do this?
"This is funny, I admit. But how did you get Ghost to do all this..? Did you lose a bet?" You chuckled. But the two men simply stared at you, dumbfounded.
"Do what? What bet? I think you had wayyy too many drinks last night dude. Told ya to knock it off." Ghost poked your forehead.
Soap crossed his arms as he stared at you. Judgingly. "Yeah. Look at you. You look like you're still fuckin' drunk."
'Excuse me?'
"Cut the crap. You guys make me sound crazy." You furrowed your brows, yet neither men did anything. In fact, they only looked more confused.
"Maybe you are!" Ghost said with a grin, pinching your cheek.
"I'm not! You look like you still do junko poses! That's not the Ghost I kn-" Another voice cuts you off before you could even finish your sentence. At this point, you're not even surprised as you see Gaz's figure walk towards you. Out of all the others, he looks the most normal— except for the fact he looks like he aged ten times older.
"What's happening here?" Gaz's voice was deeper and huskier, and it had a commanding tone to it.
"Our little (Name) here is acting very weirdly. I think the alcohol damaged their brain cells." Ghost put a hand on his hip as he sassed you. What the fuck?
"Probably got psychosis too." Soap scoffed. You didn't comment on that.
Maybe you were really going crazy. Why the hell were the other soldiers not suspecting anything?
Suddenly, a very girlish voice came from behind and a pair of hands gripped your shoulder, shaking you lightly.
"Good morning (Namey)!!! I'm glad you're finally awake! Ugh, you still have to pay me for carrying you last night. You were literally like a dead body." Price complained. You also noticed he wore.. fucking nail polish. Pink ones too.
You slowly turned your head to look at him with a horrified look on your face.
"Gurl, what's up with that look? Omg, you look scary!" His face scrunched before he turned to the others. "What did you guys do to them? They're giving me evil eye!"
Gaz crossed his arms with a clear of his throat. "We didn't do anything. Apparently they woke up like this."
Ghost flipped his non-existent hair. "Yeah. They started talking about random shit we don't understand. They asked me if I lost a bet, which totally doesn't make sense at all!"
Soap rested his cheek on his clenched fist, his elbow placed on the table for support. "Think those alcohol had drugs in it?"
Ghost snorted. "For real dude. Maybe even a whole bucket of zaza in that drink."
Meanwhile, you were trying not to lose your mind.
Why is Ghost quirky? Why is Soap emo? Why is Gaz old? Why is Price zesty? What is wrong with you?!
You stood up faster than lightning and ran to the bathroom without saying anything.
"... They definitely lost their mind." Gaz commented with his eyebrows raised. The others nodded in unison.
While you had a silent breakdown in the bathroom, you stared at yourself in the mirror— perhaps having an identity crisis. Questions ran through your mind as you went into a state of madness. You didn't even care if people whispered judgement under their breath as they went in and out of the bathroom stall. You were questioning your life and entire purpose and forming a formula to create an atom.
It wasn't long before you suddenly blacked out and someone was shaking you awake.
"Hey, hey. Wake up." It was.. Gaz. For a moment, you stared at him in fear before you realized. Things were actually normal this time. "Fallin' asleep on the job, really (Name)?" He commented, lightly poking your sides.
"Look who's awake." Soap walked in with a teasing grin. His mohawk wasn't spiky anymore, and he actually looked like himself. "Ye were passed out for an hour. You should really stop stayin' up." He said with a touch of concern as he ruffled your hair. "I admit, you looked cute snoozing like that, but you're gonna get in real trouble with the L.T."
"Captain too." Gaz added, glancing at you with sympathy.
Speak of the devil, a familiar set of heavy footsteps alerted the three sergeants, casting a large shadow over them. Soap and Gaz shared a look before sneaking away.
"W-well, talk to ya later!" Soap waved as he disappeared, leaving you with Ghost.
You gulped nervously, unable to take the man seriously in front of you after that dream. "Morning sir." You shakily stood up.
"(Name)." Ghost said in a commanding manner, his voice deeper than usual. Even though he wasn't scarily mad, you could tell he's disappointed. "Price calls for you in his office." His gaze was intense, brooking no room for argument.
You nodded with a 'Yes sir' before excusing yourself.
Safe to say you got an hour of scolding from Price along with a punishment of cleaning duty for two weeks. Oh well, at least you have a story to tell later.
68 notes · View notes
poursomesunaonme · 2 years
Text
savor (sequel to friends, just friends)
pairing: eren x fem!reader
summary: eren struggles to keep his feelings for you under control, but your seemingly new relationship makes it impossible.
wc: 4.3k
cw: nsfw, minors dni (only 18+ allowed to interact, please have age in your bio/easily accessible on your blog), jealous eren misreads a situation of course, incredibly emo simpage coming from an angry jealous man child, heavy sprinkle of angst, a little verbal fight, a foot fetish by accident ?, a little biting, oral (fem receiving), marking, use of “baby,” vaginal fingering, teasing, pussyjob, sex without condom, the L word, creampie, incredibly soft sex <333
a/n: been in the works a little too long, but i hope u lovely people enjoy <33 as always, reblogs/comments/asks are always appreciated. shoutout to my lovely @mitsuyuhhh and @bimboboobafina for being the best betas and making me giggle with ur comments <333
Tumblr media
the stream of people push past eren as they exit the classroom. his eyes search the crowd, only focused on finding you despite the bodies winding around him. earlier that day, he had agreed to walk you home since mikasa was home sick and she would usually accompany you back to your shared apartment. just a favor. isn’t that what friends are supposed to do?
the events that occurred earlier in the day quickly made him regret his decision, however. he can’t help but clench his fists as he remembers. since he didn’t have class, eren’s plan was to study in a coffee shop for the morning before meeting you. he had even decided to pick you up a treat before he left. it wasn’t very often that he would do things like that for you, but he had been feeling a bit nicer lately. after all, isn’t that what friends are supposed to do?
maybe you weren’t friends after all; because if anything, that morning, eren came to realize that what friends don’t do is keep secrets from each other. surely, that guy that you had been with in the café when he arrived was just some other friend that you had completely forgotten to tell him about. surely, eren was just overthinking a meeting between two acquaintances.
a meeting between two acquaintances that touch each other so familiarly. he remembers how you spoke with him. how you laughed almost every time his lips moved. how your eyes sparkled like you were in love. it was so obvious, even through the tinted window.
no, it couldn’t have been just a friend. eren tries to swallow past the lump in his throat to no avail.
no matter how hard eren tries to convince himself, it was blatantly obvious that you had acquired some kind of friend, just from what he had see . your touch had lingered on his arm. that sight lingers still in eren’s mind. it was the kind of touch you used to give him.
he refuses to admit it to himself, refuses to accept the reality that your relationship is on the verge of switching into another phase of the cycle, the one where you don’t hook up for a few weeks because you’re seeing other people. the one where you choke down the pill that your meetings are finite, that your feelings aren’t as strong as you want them to be.
however, both of you know that it isn’t true. your feelings are strong enough. it’s the lack of courage that buries those feelings so deep that you suffer as you watch the other find another hookup.
eren thinks that maybe he could text his previous girl, the one that he was seeing before the two of you left the movie night at jean’s to get together. yeah, he could find solace between her legs like he usually does, pretending that some mediocre hookup is as good as something with you that could basically make him cum on the spot just thinking about it.
no.
because eren dwells on how you looked with that other guy. and if he hates to admit that you were seeing him romantically, there’s something about it that he hates to admit infinitely more.
that he wants it to be him.
he hears you call his name and you meet his gaze with a bright smile, jogging up to him. he can’t help the soft smile that rises to his lips when you greet him cheerfully, hair falling from the style you had put it in to keep it out of your face while you paid attention during lecture.
however, when you adjust your bag on your shoulder and mention the fact that you’re craving a treat even though you already had one when you went to the cafe that morning, he can’t stop himself from picturing the scene that boils his blood. he doesn’t want to seem like a dick, but he can’t exactly forget it either. so he turns away and starts to walk briskly towards your apartment, ignoring your teasing about how mad he looks.
he wants to be kind, he really does, but he knows that until he can own up to his feelings, he’s just gonna be a jealous bystander for the rest of his miserable existence.
you seemed so happy with that other guy.
you look miserable when he shifts his gaze over to you.
maybe it’s for the best. but only for you.
because unfortunately for him, you’re on eren’s mind constantly. you’re all he can think and breathe. every night, he’s rolled over on his stomach, scrolling through your social media like he’s absolutely fucking whipped. he knows he is.
every thought has some tie to you, always leads to you. every conversation that he has with anyone else ends up with your name in it. every time he passes a store, he always finds something that he thinks you would like. everything reminds him of you. it’s only a matter of time that he can ignore it, let it go unspoken.
what he braces for more, however, is the next time he sees that guy, maybe even in the pictures on your social media that he’s constantly looking at.
thankfully, for the next two weeks, it doesn’t come.
but the feelings that he has for you stay the same. in fact, they swell up bigger and bigger with each passing day.
you shouldn’t have such a hold on him when he was the one that insisted on staying friends with benefits. he knows that it’s basically impossible for such a relationship to evolve into something more. but he can’t exactly admit to himself that made a home in his heart the second he laid eyes on you.
he knows that trying to prolong a shallow relationship is a mistake. he knows he’s scared.
and that’s exactly why he breaks, why he’s banging on your door, why there’s an outgoing call from his phone to yours in case you’re not home. but you hear him like he’s someone trying to break into your house.
you open the door, eyes wide with fear, but you soften when you see him. “eren, what the fuck is going on with you?”
“i… uh…” his mouth goes dry when the opportunity to confess to you is finally granted. you still, seeing a strange expression on his face, one that you’ve seen before but don’t quite understand. eren shoves his hands in his pockets and takes a deep breath before leaning to the side to peer around the door to see if anyone else is around.
his heart falls when he sees that guy sitting in your living room, watching the scene unfold from behind his laptop.
eren’s whole world whirls upside down. his heart shatters.
you watch it happen - watch his face fall, the corners of his mouth turn into a frown, his eyes shimmer.
eren knows that it should be him. he should be the one lounging on your couch, the one that stays in your bed till the morning. it should be eren’s hands holding yours, eren’s lips on yours, eren’s body entangled with yours. it should be eren’s heart in your hands.
“eren, we’re just studying,” you say preemptively, taking a step forward to push him out of the door, to isolate him, before he does something he’ll regret. but he puts a hand on your shoulder, stilling you.
“get out.”
the man on the couch hesitates, closing his laptop in case he needs to defend himself or even you from the crazy man in the doorway.
“get out.” eren’s repetition doesn’t go unanswered this time.
the man gets up, starting to put his laptop in his backpack, ever so slowly as to not incense eren further. “look man, i don’t want any trouble.”
“did you hear me?” eren shoves past you, shoulder hitting you like a brick wall. your mouth is dry and you try to ignore the pounding in your heart as eren towers over your poor friend.
“sorry,” he murmurs, packing the rest of his things and dashing out of the door before eren can utter another syllable.
“who’s that?” eren turns to you. your fists ball at your sides. anger boils up within you. his demeanor had changed so quickly when he had faced you. his entire body had relaxed.
“what’s your fucking problem, eren?” you yell, pushing against his chest with your hands. you barely move him an inch. “he’s a friend from one of my classes. i’ve been falling behind recently and he’s been helping me study to catch up.”
his heart skips a beat, the realization of the misread situation hitting him like a bag of bricks. the adrenaline racing through his veins begins to wane, leaving him embarrassed and ashamed. he lowers his head, avoiding your gaze.
“so…” eren trails off awkwardly, scratching the back of his head sheepishly, “he’s not your boyfriend?”
you laugh past the frustrated tears that gather in the corners of your eyes. “no, dummy.”
the two of you stand together for a moment, in silence. your gazes find each other easily. he wants to ask if you can feel the industrial grade magnet that draws him to gravitate towards you.
instead, he doesn’t say anything, as usual. you take him by the hand and lead him to the couch. you sit down, patting the seat. eren doesn’t make a move to join you. he tucks his chin to his chest, hiding his face.
“are you okay?” you ask.
no, eren is not okay. he feels so dumb, like he’s never had a thought in his life. he wants to tell you that everything he’s ever wanted has been right in front of him the entire time. he wants to tell you how much of a coward he’s been since he’s known you, ever since mikasa invited you to the friend group from one of her classes. he wants to tell you that it’s always been you, no matter how many times he tried to drown his feelings in between other girls’ legs.
the man who stands so tall suddenly feels smaller than an ant. his knees buckle and he crumbles down in tears at how deplorable he seems. the feelings overwhelm him in too great a number, spurred by something he can’t fathom. if it’s anything, it’s you. he can’t help but soften into a pool of mush when it’s just you. you make him feel so much no matter how hard he tries to stifle those emotions. but even so, it happens often, how he lets his heart get the best of him when he’s ruminating by himself. but here, all that negativity gets beaten away by your soft hands.
it’s not just helplessness and guilt over cowardice - it’s how the fury at that other guy fades at an alarming rate when eren clutches at your thighs to steady himself. he needs something to blame his inactiveness for, but there’s something about you that brings brutal honesty and clarity to his tumultuous emotions. sure, he can be mad on his own, but he can’t ever stay mad when he’s with you. his hands may itch to beat in the face of whatever guy you choose to associate with, but he couldn’t ever think of hurting you. even though that’s all he’s ever done. maybe that would be the next excuse he makes up for not asking to make you his.
seeing him fall apart, you lift yourself off the couch, settling down on the floor next to him. he basically falls into your chest, hands grasping at your arms as you wrap him into a tender embrace. he shakes against you. it’s almost scary to see him like this. so helpless.
eren allows himself to melt into you.
your body is warm. you smell like you always do. he can hear your heartbeat directly in his ear and he wishes with all his might that it beats for him and only him.
he buries his head in your chest, pulling you closer and closer before he gets so intoxicated on the contact that he can’t help the words from spilling out of his mouth.
“i don’t want to see you with anyone else anymore.”
your heart skips a beat. you know he feels it. your hands begin to shake. but you steel your resolve and bite back a laugh when you take his cheeks in your palms and lift his head to face you. “eren, what’re you-”
“i can’t fucking do this anymore!,” he nearly shouts. “i want you. i want to be with you. please.”
you think you might catch flies with how your jaw hangs slack. but there’s a tenderness in which you suddenly feel you need to treat him. you brush a stray strand of hair out of his face, gently trailing a finger down his cheek. he shudders at the contact. “eren, i-”
he holds up a hand to stop you. “just - don’t say anything. it’s okay if you don’t agree. i’ve just felt this way for a while. i - god - it’s been unbearable seeing you around with him and i just-”
your lips cut him off. the kiss is like magic. you’re soft and warm and he smiles when your arms wrap around him again. you pull him closer and closer until your bodies may as well be considered conjoined.
the next thing you know, his arms tangle around you. he lifts you up, stumbling over couches to fumble for the door handle to your room.
the two of you don’t even make it to the bed before a knock rings out.
“a little warning would be nice next time!” mikasa yells through the door. you and eren pull back and share a laugh as you listen to her and armin’s retreating footsteps. you sigh with relief when the front door closes, leaving the two of you alone for some long-awaited privacy.
eren doesn’t hesitate to meet your lips again. the kisses are soft, but you can feel the desperation behind them. you feel the desire that eren has for you, all those emotions that had been pent up for so long that he’s kept bottled down for months and months upon end.
when he undresses you, it’s slow, deliberate. he gently pushes you onto the bed with a sly smile, one that says “i’ve finally got what i want and i’m going to savor it.” his lips trail over your hands, your forearms, your biceps, your shoulders. he takes off your shirt and unclasps your bra. he kisses your neck, your collarbones, your décollatage. he takes off your shorts and kisses down your stomach, your legs, all the way to your feet.
trailing his lips back up your legs, he spreads them, marveling at how the feast is laid out just for him. he presses a long, tender kiss to your clit.
you shudder before pulling yourself away and scrambling over the bed to lay yourself across the pillows, allowing eren to join you on the bed instead of kneeling on the floor. he smiles up at you, tying his hair up into a bun before wrapping his arms around your thighs. his lips ghost along the sensitive skin, pressing soft kisses and gentle nips to it like he owns it.
he takes his sweet time, letting his mouth cover every inch of your inner thighs before marveling at your cunt. he nearly busts in his pants when his tongue trails over your leaking slit, drooling over just how delicious you are. he groans at the taste of you.
your legs close around his head. the bottoms of your feet skim over the muscles of his back. he doesn’t move an inch closer and it drives you insane, his breath is hot and heavy against your pussy.
“i want you, eren,” you whisper, tangling your fingers in his hair. it’s maddening, how the only pressure you feel is hot air when all you want is him. “i want you and only you.”
“say it again.”
“what?” your heart skips a beat.
“my name.”
“er-eren!” the one whispered syllable becomes a desperate plea when his lips close around your clit. he sucks on the throbbing bud, right where you need him. you melt on his tongue like a pad of butter.
while eren gorges himself on the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, you pull him closer by the hair. the smooth locks easily tumble from the elastic and leave you to brush them back out of his face so they don’t get in the way of him pleasuring you.
when they aren’t rounding to accommodate your pulsating bundle of nerves, his lips curl into a sly grin at his name pouring from your lips. as if he was the one receiving, deep, throaty moans rumble through your core and across your sensitive inner thighs.
a few times, he comes up for air. at the sight of you toying with your perky nipples, his green eyes light with a carnal flame of desire. he’s determined to touch, to kiss, to nip every inch of your skin - so by the time he catches his breath before diving face first into your pussy again, your upper thighs are covered in sweet little bite marks and hickeys.
before you can utter another syllable of his name, two fingers slide into your soaking cunt. your thighs thrash around his head, threatening to crush it before you can experience the fulfilling high of being with someone who finally knows how you feel, and vice versa. eren merely laughs, encircling a thigh with a free hand and gently prying it off of him so that he has more free range to ravish your cunt.
his breath is hot, lips sticky, a shimmery sheen adorning the lower half of his face. you can never, ever get accustomed to the sight of him nestled so comfortably between your legs. it’s so natural, it’s like he’s born to do it.
after fumbling around your tongue that had become lead in the approach of climax, you finally whine out his name as those blissful waves of pleasure take over your body. eren groans into your pussy, exponentially increasing your high. your legs tremble against his shoulders, toes curling as you press your feet into his back to bring him closer. he’s mumbling something you can’t quite understand with his mouth full; you can only imagine that it’s the sweetest praise for his sweetest love.
when he finally eats his fill, he flashes you a bright smile before slinking up your body to reach your lips. trailing kisses all the way up your stomach, your breasts, your collarbones, your neck, your jaw, you think you might die before he reaches your mouth. the sweet taste of you is still on his lips when he finally presses them to yours.
you moan against him, at the feeling of him lining himself up with you. he teases you relentlessly, sliding the tip in between your folds to lube him up before he truly makes love to you. your name falls off his lips like a prayer, having him nearly shaking when he hadn’t even pushed in yet.
his hand cups your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he beholds your face, your mouth ajar in anticipation of moaning when he sinks into you.
“you ready?” he breathes. you nod, biting your lip before he shifts forward. the stretch of the tight ring of muscles begs your eyes rolling back into your head, but you’re too entranced by eren to obey. his jaw muscles tighten before his mouth hangs open in a shaky breath, eyebrows furrowing. you’re sure that your face mirrors his. you gaze at each other for the first few initial thrusts before your lips collide.
there’s nothing that beats the feeling of him softly groaning into your mouth, his slow, deep strokes reaching places that they previously never had. your legs wrap around him almost immediately, locking him in close proximity so that he won’t leave too soon. something deep in you reminds you that he won’t, however.
every few moments, eren pulls back to take in the sight of you, hair splayed across the pillows, lips throbbing and covered in spit - and he finds that you’re the most beautiful creature that has ever graced the earth. he can’t help but smile back at your gentle grins before diving in to taste you once again.
“tell me…” he starts after hesitating for a moment. one of his hands cups your face, thumb stroking your cheek before it travels down your body, slowly tracing a pattern that draws gooseflesh on your skin. his lustful eyes grow lucid, just for a second. “tell me that nobody touches you like me.”
“‘ren, c’mon,” you tease, but after finding that his serious expression doesn’t fade, you give in. it’s your turn to cup his face, to brush back the strands of hair that fall into it. “nobody touches me like you, eren.”
“now - fuck - now…” his thrusts falter for a moment, but continue. “tell me that nobody fucks you like i do.”
you let out a slight grin, starting to trail your nails over his biceps, his chest. “nobody, not a single person, fucks me like you do, eren.”
as if to emphasize your point, you pull him in, pull him impossibly deeper. sparked by your validation, he picks up the pace faster than he had gone the entire night, hammering into your hips. he doesn’t lean down to your lips, entranced by the way your tits bounce in response to his hips slamming into yours. your moans are music to his ears and have gotten him impossibly hard.
“talk to me,” he whimpers, stooping to close his lips around the soft skin of your neck. you recoil against the low, ticklish vibrations scattering along your nerves.
there are so many things to say, so many events, feelings to process, facts to establish. but if there’s anything that you’re sure of in this moment, in the moment where eren’s thrusts hit deeper and deeper with each rotation, in the moment where there is literally no other place you would rather be, all you can say is
“i want you.” your exhale is just barely enunciated. the infinite thoughts dedicated to the man plowing into your hips are just too much to bear, too much to articulate, besides
“i need you.” it’s deprived, desperate, punctuated by your fingers tangling into his hair, by his twitching in your gushing warmth. it’s lewd, the moans that follow, the ones that he swallows as his lips meet yours, before
“i love you.”
he gasps in the minute pause that he had allowed you before his lips meet yours again. if there’s anything about eren, it’s that he seems so vast to you. he had already surrounded you, was everything you tasted, touched, smelled - and now, he seems to have expanded infinitely. he envelopes your entire heart, your entire being.
it’s as if god himself reached down and touched your heart, igniting it into a brilliant blaze. his fingers laced with yours on either side of your head, effectively pinning you under his love.
the darkness hums around the both of you with an unspoken energy, waiting for eren to acknowledge verbally what you had just unleashed onto him. he doesn’t say anything, at least for a few seconds that drag onto years.
maybe it’s a mistake ruining the relationship that you pursue with him. is it sustainable? absolutely not. will it last forever? as is, no.
could you go on another second without telling him? you prefer death.
in the midst of your dissonance, eren’s kiss on your searing forehead is the cooling rag that breaks your fever.
“i love you.” the whisper is shaky, scared, but you understand. there’s a dark pit of unknown splayed out in front of the two of you, something that you hadn’t been able to come to terms with over the last countless months.
however, as his thrusts change in accord with his expression, becoming more passionate, traveling deeper, as his hands envelop and tighten around your own, your fear dissipates. there’s nothing to worry about, nothing standing in the way of your and eren’s happiness. it’s stupid, really, how long it took for the two of you to swallow your pride and confess. but now that the words have been spoken, there’s no doubt in your minds that you hold each other's hearts.
in the flurry before the sex began, eren didn’t have the brainpower to consider a condom. you had known that he wasn’t wearing one. you find it funny that it seems like an afterthought now. the conversation you had with him at the last hookup rang in your mind.
“cum inside,” you whimper, holding eren’s face in the crook of your shoulder. he moans at the phrase, nearly finishes at the thought of filling you up, the white substance leaking out of you. “make me yours… cum inside. please, ‘ren.”
he fumbles with his words, head so hazy that he can barely think straight. “c’mon baby, be mine. be my girl. love you so much ‘n want you to be mine.”
“‘mkay,” you whisper, smiling at him as he pulls back to kiss you again. each thrust earns a heavy groan as the two of you draw closer and closer to finishing.
when his cock twitches a final time and you begin to feel double the warmth from his climax and your own bliss, those three words leave your mouth only to be immediately devoured by eren’s and returned tenfold.
the exchange of “i love you” continues further and further into the night, past each high, past each rest, past each kiss, touch, breath.
Tumblr media
© all work belongs to poursomesunaonme. do not copy and repost.
taglist: @princess-jaeger @galactict3a @ob-levi-on @pink-apples001 @missyasma @leiriswhore @killerbananas @sinspookie @aengelren
581 notes · View notes
awholelotofladybug · 3 months
Note
Have any headcanons for what the Shadybug and Claw Noir world would be like in the Stammering Adrien AU?
Well, since Shadybug and Claw Noir still belong to their own universe, their characters wouldn’t change much. Shadybug might be shocked to see that this AU’s Chloe is nice now, and Claw Noir might be surprised that Stammering Adrien lost his father instead of his mother…
But since we’re on the subject…
Marinette: I’m glad that other Ladybug convinced you to be good. Though if I’m being honest, your “emo” outfit is pretty cool.
Emo-Marinette: *changing behind a room divider* Well, you can have it if you want.
Marinette: Really? Are you sure?
Emo-Marinette: Yeah, I have a dozen just like it back home, besides, now that I’m not working for the Supreme anymore, I’m gonna be toning it down, making some changes. *comes out in a new outfit* It still amazes me that your Chloe isn’t a bully anymore.
Marinette: With so many universes, it was bound to happen in a few of them. Thanks for the outfit, btw.
Emo-Marinette: No problem. So… You and your Adrien… Is it good?
Marinette: It’s great. Don’t worry. Whatever happens with you and your Adrien, I’m sure everything will be fine.
Emo-Marinette: *smiles* Thanks.
Meanwhile
Adrien: No, no, I c-c-couldn’t.
Emo-Adrien: *in a new outfit, handing Adrien his old one* Go on, take it. I insist. If you like it, it’s yours. Besides, I have a million just like it
Adrien: Well, o-okay. Thanks. And have a s-s-safe trip back home.
Emo-Adrien: No problem… Hey, one other thing…
Adrien: Yeah?
Emo-Adrien: Take good care of your mom.
Adrien: Sure. And you t-t-t-take… Take good care of your dad.
Emo-Adrien: You know it. And hey, whoever killed your dad, I hope you find them.
Adrien: Oh, I will. *clenches his fist* I will.
23 notes · View notes
sanjisprincesswifey · 2 years
Note
Ahhh, the prompts for your event are so cute/dramatic ❤️🙌 May I ask for prompt 39. “You could do so much better” with Kid and she/her pronouns? Tysm and hope finals are going well~ ❤️😘🥰
Tumblr media
note: thank YOU so much anon for this request, i l o v e writing for my emo boyfriend! italicized sections imply a flashback!
♡: female reader implied. 600+ words. sfw content.
Tumblr media
an unfamiliar smell causes kid’s nose to twitch, grunting at the burning sensation. “what the hell is that smell?” he grunts, standing up from his seat.
as if on cue you walk into the room, fluffing your hair out one final time. “has anyone seen my bag?” you ask, pretending to not notice the gawking expression of your captain.
killer clears his throat, unsure if it was to get your attention or kid’s, “why are you so dressed up?” he questions, throwing your bag at you.
the dress that hugged your body complimented every curve you had; the boys didn’t know much about fashion, but they did know that you looked so good. especially kid, who might as well have been standing in a pool of his own drool.
“a man from this village offered to take me out for a drink tonight,” you smiled, rummaging through your purse to make sure you had everything on you.
kid’s jaw snapped closed from its previous gaped position, his brows knitting tightly together. he didn’t know what to say as he watched you wave goodbye to the rest of them and head out on your way.
sure, you had been broken up for at least a month now, but he didn’t think you would move on this fast.
“i’m just asking you to act like a boyfriend sometimes kid, that’s all!” you scream, his eyes rolling with every word you speak. “it’s like you don’t even love me,” you quietly huff, crossing your arms over your chest.
kid’s jaw tightens, gritting his teeth together before he stands up and pushes past you, “well then let’s just break up since you could do so much better than me.”
he grips onto the door frame, pausing before exiting.
he doesn’t know if he was waiting for you to object or maybe beg for him to not go, but only your stunned silence filled the room, and then he was gone.
kid is quiet the rest of the night, mugs of untouched sake remain on the table. he’d usually be so drunk he couldn’t even tell his own crewmates apart, unable to get out a coherent sentence, but he remained sober, waiting for you to return.
you stumble around, a single tear falling down your cheek as you light the cigarette between your lips. you see the victoria punk rocking calmly back and forth and almost feel a sense of relief until you remember that the man you loved didn’t want you anymore.
you attempt to reboard the ship as quietly as possible, but your clumsy footsteps practically give you away.
the kitchen light flicks on as you seek a glass of water, but you jump when the light reveals kid who’s sitting at the dining table. his head is in his hands; he knows it’s you.
“what’re you doing here?” you heave, heading towards the fridge and doing your best to keep your unbothered expression despite the copious amounts of alcohol in your system.
you wait for an answer and to be honest, he’s trying to come up with one himself. “well?” you demand, slamming your cup onto the table. he doesn’t flinch or get upset, but you didn’t expect him to. you almost wanted him to, so he’d say something, anything.
“i…i was waiting for you.” he admits, surprising even himself. “i need you y/n,” he continues, his fists clenched together at the embarrassment of his confession.
you’re staring at his head of red hair, his face still was planted towards the table. but your eyes soften as the tenseness your body felt dissipates into thin air.
“well it took you long enough,” you sigh in relief, your hand running through his brightly colored hair. “why’d you let me go out on a date then, huh?” you joke as he shoots an annoyed glace your way.
Tumblr media
likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)
278 notes · View notes
likelilacwine · 7 months
Note
ok fine if ur gonna make me think about sith geto then I will also think about him being such an emo fuck in the all-black robes and the belt giving him a slutty little waist and maybe also how he uses the force to choke u slightly. just sayin. this is poisoning me now THANK U
i literally love you so much and would die for you but this is fuckery and you know it because now i wont shut up about him. geto suguru my muse no matter the au but consider the following:
sith lord suguru isn't completely certain of how you ended up in his group of attendants, the tittering group of women that live to serve him hand and foot. he doesn't know what system you're from, he doesn't know your backstory. it doesn't matter, your purpose is to serve and it has been since you were likely plucked straight from your mom's breast and introduced to a life of servitude.
none of it matters - you're no one.
but he can't help but ask questions, anticipating your answers, because the one thing he doesn't feel emanate from you in his presence is the one thing he craves you to feel the most.
fear.
you do not fear this man.
not with his blazing lightsaber slicing through enemies, the smell of charred flesh following him in his conquests. not with the dark helmet he uses covering his face. not when you're the person he hand picks to see him without it - feeling most comfortable to be vulnerable around an unarmed woman rather than any man under his command.
he is well aware that you cannot trust the whims of men who all want power but you can trust a woman who isn't aware she has any.
least of all over the sith lord himself.
"you look like something is on your mind," he offers one evening as you work to polish his boots and he watches with narrowed eyes. looking up from your work, you meet his eyes and shake your head.
"no, my lord. nothing is on my mind."
he chuckles and rises from his station, discarding the data pads and battle plans before him and approaching you. you stay with your legs tucked beneath you, still diligently working until his shadow crosses your body. you feel cold inside of it but he still senses no fear. no hesitation. no disgust.
perhaps you're just stupid and that's why you're nothing more than the girl who polishes his armor.
"you know that i can sense when someone is lying, right?"
he looms over you but you stay still in your position, only lifting your head to gaze up at him. you're one of the few people who has ever seen him without his armor and the sight is tantalizing, although you are aware you're so far beneath him you don't have the right to feel that way.
nevertheless, he reaches out and cups your chin between his thumb and index finger. he narrows his eyes and inspects you for a moment as you do him, eyes dancing over the steely set of his jaw and those discerning molten amber eyes.
he scoffs and drops your chin, clenching his fist as he draws it back to his own body.
"get back to work."
24 notes · View notes
toshidou · 1 year
Note
shut up,,, whipped ghost oh my god that's so cute,,
Ghost who would never admit how you give him butterflies every time he sees you like a little schoolgirl crush
Ghost who would never admit to looking at you like you're the only person in the universe, no matter how many times you accuse him or catch him in the act
Ghost who would never tell you how much he loves being coddled by you when he's injured, the way you hold him a little tighter for the next few night and make him eat all of his meals in your cabin
💓💓
I CANNOT!!
You know what, Ghost is just a more aggressive and emo version of Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice and no one can convince me otherwise. He would totally clench his fist after helping you down from a chopper T^T And just like Mr. Darcy, he too would be completely fucking clueless on how he managed to fall in love in the first place, let alone with you
god i have so many thoughts about soft, sappy Simon, who tries so desperately hard to keep up the stone cold persona around you but just can't, letting the occasional laugh and all too fond glance slip out from behind the mask, head and heart turned to mush whenever he so much as glances at you.
AND INJURED SIMON?? It would get to the point you'd grow suspicious that he was hurting himself on purpose just to preen under your gentle care. Until one day you remind him he can have all those things without putting his life at risk. He don't come home with a single injury again for a long time after that.
99 notes · View notes
your-local-scene-emo · 3 months
Text
johnny c x emo! reader
(i'm emo, of you couldn't tell lmao, and i like johnny the homicidal maniac, so boom, here you go) Warnings: murder, mentions of mutilations of body's and that's about it i think. also some yelling and people being assholes. not proofread
Tumblr media
you were pretty normal, oh, besides the whole emo thing. people usually stared or looked at you funny whenever you went out in public. depending on the day you were having, either you wold ignore them, smile and wave, duck your head nervously, or flip them of with your special little finger. today was one of those days where it wasn't going so well, you had gotten a brand new gir hoodie (i'm mostly going of scene emo here but you can make it whatever you want) and you were super proud of your new hoodie! most people didn't get it though, they would stare and point. but today, a certain homicidal maniac was there to witness it all. johnny knew what it was like to be judged or stared at just for going outside to just have a good time. it sucked ass. currently, some guy was sending glances your way, looking at you in a disgusted way at how you looked. he could hear whispers as he talked among friends. **"oh my god who wears that much eyeliner it 2023"** **"dude get your camera!"** **"oh hell naw"** *johnny's eyes twitched, his fists clenching. those insults almost felt targeted at him, even if it was at you. he yells, grabbing one of his knives... or... whatever he uses idk. you, surprised, look over to see a tall VERY skinny man stabbing the people who were whispering behind your back. hey, he looked fine-
you watched in horror, or entertainment, however you react to a murder scene i won't judge :)
"I LIKE YOU BETTER WHEN YOU DON'T HAVE EYES!" *the man screamed, ripping the man's eyeballs out of his head. he was right, they don't deserve eyes, they don't deserve to look at how inspiring you look, not if they judge you like that for no reason except that you're different. he then rips the man's tongue out, still yelling. "AND YOU DEFINITELY DON'T DESERVE THIS!" *he leaves the man to bleed out, getting up like it was nothing and dusting himself off. he looks at you, raising a brow.
"hey, my name's johnny, just call me Nny." *he gives you his hand, to which you (i'm making the reader stupid as shit don't worry) take his hand and shake it politely
"i'm Y/N, nice to meet you Nny."
moral of the story, don't judge someone based off their appearance, because if you do a homicidal maniac will come for you and rip out your eyeballs :)
7 notes · View notes
cryptomiracle · 1 year
Text
ROMANTICAL + GENERAL MASKY HEADCANONS WHOOP WHOOPP ‼️
Quick note: this does NOT correlate to the masky as a brother / masky as a stepfather headcanons I've been doing.
I don't write incest.
Tumblr media
(please remember, these are my personal headcanons. They are not accurate.)
PLEASE READ ↓
No tw, other than mentions of anger issues, and curse words.
these are all cute headcanons. unlike my toby one lmfao
If anyone would like one for masky that's similar to my toby headcanons, please tell me!
He won the poll, so here we go!
Physical touch
Like mentioned before, his hugs are literally life changing.
Like this man could hug you once, and it'd make you question the whole trajectory of your life.
He's very big on hand holding, I like to headcanon that he stays cold, so if you give off a lot of heat, he's never letting go of you.
Even though he gives great hugs, he doesn't really like to give them to just anyone.
He kinda saves them for the ones he loves specifically.
He likes giving you kisses all over.
Your hands, your nose, your shoulder, your forehead, etc.
He likes when you give him hugs as well, if you randomly walk up behind him and just hug him.
It gives him butterflies
Food (bc I'm writing this while I'm hungry)
He isn't too big on cheese cake tbh.
I mean he likes it (who doesn't like cheesecake 🧐??) But it isn't his absolute favorite.
He prefers those carrot cake rolls.
Because carrot cake rolls are absolutely scrumdiddlyyumyumious.
He likes to cook, but he also likes when you cook.
He loves coming home to a warm meal after a hard day.
He doesn't demand you cook for him or anything, but he thinks it's a nice surprise.
Affection
His love language is gift giving.
He likes to leave you little notes around the house for you to find.
Or little doodles .
As a partner, he's a sweetheart.
He blushes really easily.
If you reciprocate the same kinda physical touch, he'd turn as red as a tomato.
He's a very good listener, he loves the sound of your voice.
He could listen to you for hours, and still never get bored.
He'd spend all his money on you, and be happy to do it too🤌
Omg the way he looks at you.
Homie is in LOOVEEE
Everyone around you can see it.
He could deny it all he wants, but it's clear how he admires you.
(Emo)tional stuff
He's not really good at verbal comfort, but he tries.
If you're mad, he would be mad too
If you were insulting someone, he'd insult them as well.
It doesn't matter if he knows what is going on, he just knows that if you're mad, it's probably for a good reason 🤷🏽‍♀️
(even if it's not, he's still on your side)
It'd be like
Reader: "FUCK YOU AND YO MOMMA"
Masky: "YEAH, YO MOMMAS A WH0RE"
except he has no clue what is happening, so he just insulted someones mom for no reason lmfao
He has his own anger issues, but he kinda feeds off of your anger when you're mad.
He doesn't have the "aesthetic" kind of anger issues, he genuinely has to hold himself back.
I promise you he's not listening to mother mother when he's mad, he's punching trees and shit.
When you're sad, he'd give you one of them life changing hugs, and draw you a little doodle to cheer you up.
Protectiveness
He's not the most protective person, but he doesn't let anyone try you yk?
Like for instance, take Jeff the killer, Jeff is like a Chihuahua. biting, (not figuratively, he had to get a rabies shot one time. ) and yapping at anyone that gets too close.
Masky is more like a body guard.
Only intervening when he has to.
He's not the type to look through your phone, or follow you everywhere.
He trusts you enough, that he feels he doesn't have too.
He's not a pushover though.
He won't just stand there if someone is flirting with you or anything.
If someone was flirting with you, he'd just give them a confused look, then he'd turn his eyes from them to you, and back again.
If they continued, his eyebrows would knit, and clench his fist.
That's how yk shit is about to get REAL
Holidays
Valentine's:
He likes to get you your favorite flowers, some candy, and to snuggle up and watch a movie/show.
He doesn't really like Valentine's, he thinks it's kinda stupid, he can't explain why though.
(truth is, he's still harboring hate for it from when he was single) (he's just like me fr 🫂)
Christmas:
He likes Christmas, mainly cause of the lights, and decorations.
He loves decorating for Christmas.
He doesn't really like receiving gifts though, he doesn't know how to accept them.
Especially if they're nicer than the gift he gave.
He's more of a giver, than a taker.
Halloween:
He loves Halloween.
It's his favorite holiday.
He loves dressing up, and scaring people.
He also loves watching Halloween movies.
Even the shitty ones.
He likes to buy big bags of Halloween candy a day after Halloween, cause it's on sale.
(I couldn't think of anymore holidays sorry)
General headcanons
He's about 5'8-5'11.
He's chubby, but he also has a little muscle mass.
He likes to take extra care of his hair
He has like 3 brands of shampoo, conditioner, and moisturizer 😭
His favorite food is lasagna 🤌🤌
He smells like maple, vanilla, and cigarettes.
(the maple and vanilla, is him tryna cover up the cigarette smell.)
He collects butterflies.
Yk how people will find dead butterflies, and frame them? He does that in his past time
He takes LONGGG showers.
Like 50 minute showers.
Y'all's water bill is high as hell 💀
He sleeps all over the place, on his side, on his back, one leg off the bed, on his stomach, you name it.
He snores too.
Not extremely loud, just loud enough to keep you up if you're not used to it.
He's terrified of cockroaches.
This man would fight a coyote, but a cockroach flies towards him, and he's down.
He wears glasses occasionally, only when he's reading something.
He drives very fast, not on the highway and stuff, but on back roads and such.
He takes "ball til we fall" too literally.
He has road rage.
The things he says to people on the freeway would make someone's grandmother roll in her grave 😭
He's a cat person.
he likes dogs, but he prefers cats, cause they just kinda do what they want, like him.
He'll never admit it, but he listens to Weezer and the brobecks every now and then.
His sleep schedule is horrible.
One night he's staying up till 3, then the next he goes to bed at 9.
Idk how he functions.
He's literally a master at mario kart.
His favorite character is daisy.
He's not afraid to admit it either 💪💪
He likes petting random cats, he'll literally chase one down, just to pet it.
He has a tattoo, it's a "31" on his leg.
(it's a reference to the offspring song "pretty fly for a white guy")
TY FOR ALL THE READSS! I REALLY HOPE THIS WAS LONG ENOUGH<33 -M
20 notes · View notes
kaseyskat · 11 months
Text
hi do not mind me i just got emo about winter schnee and the ending of v8 and so my first finished rwby vignette has been completed... no v9 spoilers! just spoilers for the v8 finale
~~
in the swirling yellows of the sandstorm, white doesn’t stand out much at all. 
the sharp blues of the winter maiden power, though, makes winter a beacon as she lands on her feet outside of a rapidly closing portal. thousands of eyes turn to her, and yet she seeks out the only ones that truly matter in that moment– two pairs of twin blue eyes that are so familiar and yet so distant, the only people in the world who matter. 
she had tried to put the world first, once. isn’t that why she listened to james for so long? why she had prioritized her mission over all else? nothing would matter so long as she kept in line and protected the people, but she had slipped, and now…
…and now she has nothing. not james, who had betrayed his own heart and her own in turn, a shadow of the man she once knew. not penny, sweet penny, who had given her life so that winter may take her place as the protector of mantle– a foolish wish, though, since when has winter ever been able to protect anybody? 
and not weiss. 
winter’s fist clenches against the hilt of her sword, and she brushes through the crowd; she can only imagine what expression must be plastered on her face. her hair slips free of its bindings, and she doesn’t have the presence of mind to sweep it back in place as she staggers through. 
people are calling her name. she hears it. unfortunately for them, echoed in the season she was named after, she only hears the word that symbolizes her own failure. 
winter. 
you were supposed to be good enough, winter. 
you were supposed to help people, winter! 
“-winter!” 
winter snaps out of her dull misery just in time to see her sister’s silly little friends, the ones that had insisted on killing themselves for a chance to save someone they loved, and something inside of her tightens. they came back from that mission with their friend alive. 
“what happened?” the red-haired one asks almost desperately, and when winter presses her lips together, she just nods resolutely, seeming to understand. “yeah, we can talk after we fight… this. can we fight this? where’s penny?” 
“penny is gone,” winter says, even as she presses a hand to her chest, feels the smallest spark of green lingering there. “you only have me now.” and maybe this time i’ll be enough. 
“what about team rwby?” the other asks, dark eyes bearing into winter’s soul– she hasn’t forgotten the way he had called her out on the ship not that long ago. 
team rwby. somehow, winter had thought that the other three had made it here– had made it out alive. and yet, as she scans the citizens of atlas and mantle, she only sees the huntresses she had once looked down upon for committing treason against the high council– she does not see her sister’s team. 
so they all fell then. winter’s heart sinks even further, and she purses her lips, giving a small shake of her head. “gone as well. i… i had hoped…” 
“we can talk about it later!” the girl proclaims, yanking the boy away from winter, blazing determination in her eyes. “right now, we have people to protect! the grimm are everywhere!” 
“right.” the boy says, and he settles against the girl’s side, his dark eyes matching her determination. winter would have never admit it before, but she might begrudgingly see why her weiss had found a home with these two. 
weiss… 
enough. winter shakes her head, and she clenches her fists, the power of the maiden springing to her. “you two get these people into a crowd,” she commands. “scattered as they are now, they make for easy pickings. we need a way out of this sandstorm.” 
“yes ma’am!” the girl choruses, and both spring into action– and, as winter watches them carefully, other hunters and huntresses follow their lead, corralling the citizens of atlas and mantle into a crowd guarded carefully. 
amongst those citizens are winter’s mother and brother. winter can spot them now: she can see the way her mother’s arm curls whitley against her side, protecting him even as they stand their own in the sea of people. somehow, weiss had coaxed their gentle giant of a mother from her sorrow, a feat winter never managed before she had left. 
winter couldn’t tell them of weiss’s fate. not yet. not when the grimm fed on their despair, attracted to their darkness. 
one more thing to bottle. one more thing to keep tangled inside of her until it spilled from her lungs like a broken inkwell. 
i’ll keep them all safe for you weiss, winter vows, and as she commands the power of the maiden, urges it to take her into the skies, she presses a clenched fist to her chest, holding the last remnants of her grief there before it is all swallowed down. i won’t let your sacrifice be in vain. 
and it’ll have to be enough, for now.
11 notes · View notes
calyxthenerd · 3 months
Text
Group Vacation Surprises
Starting part two because I’m bored
Part one | Next Chapter
“Where is everyone? I specifically told them to meet us here before leaving the airport!” Leon clenches his fists, before feeling his girlfriend’s hands holding his own and rubbing her thumbs against his knuckles
“Mi amor, relax, you know how everyone is, I’m sure they’re all distracted by the hotel or bothering strangers somewhere, let’s go inside and meet your cousin, okay?”
“My sister is right, Lion, we should head in, before the press gets wind of the fact that we’re here” agrees Ludmila, checking her hair out in a pocket mirror
The lovebirds make their way into the hotel, followed by the blonde superstar, coming face to face with a certain hyper brunette, her guitarist friend and the two queens of the rink, that fact immediately bringing a smile to the faces of both men
“Simón!” “León!” They both exclaim simultaneously and run to embrace each other, being followed by each one’s much slower companions
Simón clears his throat “Hey man! It’s been so long, let me introduce you to the part of my friend group that is here, the small one is my best friend Luna, the prettier blonde-“ Emilia smacks his arm “I’m kidding Em, don’t kill me- anyways, the blonder one is my girlfriend, Ámbar, and the less blonde emo-“ Emilia interrupts “Goth” “Stop interrupting me, the emo one is Emilia, Ámbar’s significantly more annoying girlfriend, now it’s your turn”
León chuckles “Out of everyone in the family, of course it’s you to end up finding yourself in a polycule, anyways, the tiny one is my girlfriend, Violetta, and the one desperately checking herself out in the mirror and not listening to a thing we’re saying, is her sister, Ludmila” right then, Ludmila backhands his shoulder
“I was listening, you prick”
“As you can see, she’s as lovely as it gets, but to be honest, she’s worse than usual because we just got off a long flight and she ‘doesn’t want her girlfriends to see her like this’ so yeah, now that we’re done with introductions, we wait for everyone else to arrive
Right then, there was a commotion by the front doors of the hotel lobby, everyone around stopped to look at the legs and tail end of a flannel, walking under a pile of bags with matching leopard prints, with Jazmin guiding her towards the group and Nico, Pedro, Delfi, Marco and Diego walk behind them, with their reasonable one suitcase each
“You can put them down here” Jazmin says, as the person reveals themselves by putting everything down as Jazmin continues “Hey guys! I got a new assistant!” She rests her hand on Naty’s shoulder
Ludmila frowns “No, no way, she’s mine!” She grabs Naty’s arm and hugs her close, caressing her hair
Violetta laughs, patting her sister on the back “calm down, no one could take Naty from you, even if they tried” she turns to the newcomers, beaming at her other boyfriend and friend who arrived “Di! Marco! We were so worried!” She throws herself at them, who, already prepared, catch her in a threeway hug
After they finish their overenthusiatistic greetings of significant others, Leon and Simón call everyone over, to continue the long process of introducing their friends “Tall dramatic one is Jazmin, the dark haired one next to her is her girlfriend Delfi, next to Delfi is her boyfriend Pedro, and finishing this group is Pedro’s boyfriend, Nico, now you”
“Tall floppy haired one is Marco, shorter one next to him is our boyfriend Diego, and the one being squeezed to death by Ludmila is her girlfriend Naty”
Right after they finish, in comes running a group of people carrying other people on their backs, who crashes into their circle and hollers as they all fall
After everyone gathers their bearings they see the group that crashed into them, Jim was laying under Andres’ head, Ramiro was on top of Camila and Maxi was thrown into the chandelier, Yam’s work, while Broduey and Federico were off to the side, rolling on the floor laughing
Leon and Simón facepalmed simultaneously, and Leon already set to work by putting Naty on his shoulders to rescue her boyfriend from the chandelier, while Ámbar, Simón and Violetta silently start working side by side on pulling people up
As soon as they were finished, the last few missing arrived, with the two walking on the front having a heated debate in Italian, whatever it was, made Federico gasp and slap a hand over his mouth, and bringing up the rear there was a very handsome fellow carrying a sleeping woman on his back
“Lightning round, go” said Leon
“Short with red hair, Jim, tall blonde, Yam, curly black hair, Ramiro, Italian guy, Matteo, other guy, Gastón, sleeping girl, Nina, you.”
“Striped shirt, Andres, red hair, Camila, short with curly hair, Maxi, the taller one laughing is Federico, the other one is Broduey”
Luna jumps on Simón’s back and whoops “Room dividing time!”
Leon grabs the room division sheet
“The rooms are as follows:
Jim and Violetta
Gastón and Pedro
Naty and Marco
Francesca and Ámbar
Maxi and Ramiro
Federico and Diego
Luna and Camila
Leon and Matteo
Yam and Nina
Andres and Nico
Delfi and Jazmin
Broduey and Simón
Emilia and Ludmila
And someone is going to die on this trip”
2 notes · View notes
rt-lots · 2 years
Note
louis, clementine, jane and kenny for the character opinion bingo 🙏
RAAAAHHHH LETS FUCKINGG GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
louis
Tumblr media
im doing these in ms paint dont make fun of me BUT LOUISSSim in love with him top 10 f/o of the over. oh my god. LOUIS GETS a *little* done dirty by the fans but in general hes really beloved and i am grateful for that. i love him. he is so the EVER im so excited to start s4 literally just for him i am obsessed with this guy hes the silliest billiest of the ever my life
clementine
Tumblr media
CLEMMMM one of my fav characters honestly... also i checked off adoption papers but best friend bestie papers also work. SEE i was playing s3 w max and he was like "im a clementine apologist" and im NOT her moral greyness in s4 IS MY FAVORITE FUCKING THING EVEERRRRR mcarrol ranch. RAHHHHH OH MY GODDDDD all my thoughts about her are, to be completely fair, recycled thoughts from much more competent anaylitcsists (thats not a word but i dont care) BUT still i could regurgitate those recycled points for HOURSSS i love her sm. ALSO she doesnt REALLY work better as part of a dynamic im moreso referencing her parallels with aj and lee GGRAAAAAAHHHH LEE AJ PARALELL im very easily pleased.
jane
Tumblr media
hmmm janeee... this is where my popular opinion differsss. ok so my thoughts on kenny (this isnt about kenny but kennys impportant when talking abt my feelings on jane) rlly shifted when i watched the video "we dont talk about kenny" or some shit BASICALLY making the claim kennys role in s2 is that of an abusive stepfather. i didnt agree w all their points but its what shifted my view on kenny. (altho my view on kennys shifted AGAIN after playing s2 but youll see that in a sec) when it came to jane tho a lot of the comments were complaining that jane was "just as bad", and the vid doesnt mention her enough. so thats the belief i adopted
UNTILLL i played s2 and thought. no. no shes not nearly as bad as kenny imo. jane has commitment issues forged by trauma which is why shes hesitant to connect w the group and leaves on impulse. she knows what its like to get hurt. but the fandom constantly mischaracterizes this as jane not caring about anyone but herself (probably cuz kenny said it... just sayingg....) and that pisses me off. you cannot claim jane, who killed someone who wasnt directly attacking her the first time for clementine, who pulled clementine out of the ice and was the most concerned with saving her life, who came back after being 2009 emo furry levels of a loner just for clementine didnt care about clementine. she totally did!! she was real with clementine, warning her about love and loss to protect her.
shes totally not justified at all in ep 5 tho. and shes not justified in everything she does! ever! shes morally grey and i like her but i think it just comes back to the ass writing of s2. they wanted a conflict between luke and kenny (new vs old family) but then were like "shit how can we kill one of them!" and decided to bring hotheaded, flaky jane in to KILL A BABY so she would be on the same moral playing field as kenny. which she ISNT thats DEFINITELY A LOT WORSE!! so of COURSE a lot of people hate jane. but idk i think shes mischaracterized a lot which leads to hate for the wrong reasons. it almost feels kinda?? misogynistic at times?? people who are adamant kenny, who has violent rage fits due to his trauma, is justified in doing so but jane being emotionally distant, or dare i say, "a bitch" bc of her trauma is out of line... i see yall...
kenny
Tumblr media
ayyy bingo!!! oh i got bingo on jane too i just didnt notice oops. OK so kennys section is gonna be as long as janes so before i ramble about that i wanna clarify the dynamic part: kennys whole thing is loyalty and i think his best moments are when hes with other people. theres not one specific kenny + another character dynamic i like, i just think kenny is best when hes w people.
kenny... clenches fist. i mentioned in my jane rant how the "why we dont talk about kenny" video changed my perspective of him. and yeah! it did! i dont like kenny in s2 specifically. i think they fucked up his character for the sake of pointless angst and where we couldve gotten an arc about cycles of trauma or healing or literally just kenny-based-fanservice instead we got a pissing competition between him and jane of who could take out their trauma on the other more violently. kenny particularly gets me bc personally, im a big doormat! i walk on eggshells for people. s2 kenny is the type you need to walk on eggshells for. and thats not healthy. i think kennys statement about jane in the truck is wrong, and i think hers is wrong too, but... i mean shes a LITTLE right. the people around kenny ARE scared of him. he (I THINK) recognizes his actions to clementine but seemingly doesnt take an effort to really change them... he just mopes around and then beats up teenagers. its exhausting.
but i dont think its right to call kenny an abusive stepdad. hes not as bad as i expected, to be frank. hes just really poorly written. he is in heavy grief over his familys death, and theres something that can be done with that, but it isnt. he stagnates until it escalates to a final confrontation- which would work in theory if the confrontation wasnt over the death of an infant, like regular kenny would still totally kill her ITS BABY MURDER IT DOESNT WORKKK- and ends. at least closed-off jane opens up occasionally, she isnt totally stuck at the same point like kenny is. kenny recognizes his problems, but when hes with people he acts the same. itd be like if jane kept telling clementine "i think i will open my heart and be less afraid to accept people into my life" and then left the group again. i could probably say more but ive been typing this for like an hour at least im gonna end it here. kenny my beloved but also i hate you
(altho one thing i do love abt kenny is how no matter what ending u choose he assures u it was the right choice... i think thats sweet. just bc im a big kenny critic doesnt mean i dont still have a big attachment to him)
anyways w/ all this out of the way please note these are all my opinions if anything is inaccurate dont come at me... im simply sharing my perceptions of my favorite little game
5 notes · View notes
simthorium · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Holding so many bottled up emotions inside was hard for Ruben. At one point, he felt like he couldn’t deal with it. Ruben had had thoughts of hurting himself as a teen, and while he felt those thoughts creep up again, he knew that he had more options now that he was an adult; he could runaway. 
He was already far, far away from his family. They hardly checked on him anyway. He could stash some money, small amounts here and there over the course of a few weeks. And then, he’d disappear, never to be seen again. It was possible, he knew it was. He just needed a plan.
Tumblr media
Over the course of the semester, Ruben would walk to the quad to think through his plan. Being alone with his thoughts was empowering, and as the day he planned to leave got closer, he couldn’t help but be elated.
Tumblr media
On his presumed last night in Strangetown, he decided to have some fun. He’d never been much of a pool player, but wanted to try it out before he left.
Tumblr media
“Damn,” a voice from behind him said. “You kinda suck at this game.” Ruben tensed against the pool table, ready to take the cue and smack whoever said that right in the face. He turned around to see a girl dressed in all black smiling at him. “You mind if I join?” she asked. “Why, so you can kick my ass?” he muttered. “Yeah, kinda,” she said. 
Tumblr media
“Whatever,” Ruben said, making his next play.  “Stop being so emo and reset the table,” she said. Ruben glared at her, hoping to spark a reaction. But, to his surprise, the girl held his gaze, not giving into his attitude. Ruben clenched his fists, but reset the table.
Tumblr media
She wasn’t great at pool, but she wasn’t terrible either. Ruben was getting increasingly frustrated as the night went on; what a way to go out. “Your turn, hot head,” she said with a smile, causing Ruben to stifle a small tantrum. He leaned over the table, clearly missing the ball. The girl just smiled, then took her turn.
Tumblr media
“If I make this,” she said, lining up her shot. “You promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” “What?” Ruben asked, caught off guard. “If I don’t, then I at least get to tackle you if I see you doing anything stupid,” she continued, smacking the ball. Before the cue ball hit the 8, Ruben snatched it up off the table. “Oh, come on!” she said. “I was totally gonna sink that!”
Tumblr media
“What the hell are you talking about?” Ruben asked. The girl shrugged. “I don’t want you to do something dumb,” she said. “You think I’m gonna off myself, huh?” he said. “How the hell am I supposed to know? You come here every fucking night, looking depressed as shit, sitting in the same seat with your coffee and notebook like a psychopath. So either you’re unaliving yourself or you’re a serial killer. And, no offense, I’m kinda hoping it’s the first one cus at least that means there’s hope.”
Tumblr media
“What, are you stalking me?” he asked, crossing his arms. “No, dumbass, I work here,” she said, hands on her hips. “And you always look so goddamn sad, so I started getting worried about you.” “You don’t even know me,” said Ruben. “So what, I don’t get to be worried about you?” she asked. “You’re a person, so I’m worried. Is that so hard to believe?” Ruben wasn’t expecting that answer. He stood silent for a moment, then dropped his arms. “I’m running away,” he said finally. “Ok, less stupid, but still stupid,” she said. “What’s the plan, fake your death? Up and disappear into the night to scare your family or whatever? Sick plan.”
Tumblr media
“I don’t owe you anything!” Ruben exclaimed. “No, you don’t,” she said. “Especially because you fucking cheated and I totally would’ve sunk that 8. But do yourself a favor, and stop thinking about how you can hurt other people. Try thinking about ways you can help yourself.” “That’s what I’m doing,” he said. “No you’re not. If you were, you would’ve said ‘I’m moving’ or ‘I’m taking a break’, or something that means you’re doing it for you. You’re doing it because you’re hurt and sad, and you want other people to be hurt and sad too. That’s kid shit, man. Be selfish, and do something for you instead.” Ruben opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t think of a response. This random girl hit the nail completely on the head. “Also, it’s passed midnight, so we’re closed,” she said. “Hope to see you here tomorrow. That is, unless you’re still planning on running away.”
0 notes
rvby · 1 year
Text
yknow? (guy whose papers are all completely bullshitted because he doesnt know shit about himself either) anyways i wonder what date he would have picked for a birthdate. no way in hell he knows/remembers. same with naomi. i wouldnt be surprised if she went with a rough estimate of whenever fox picked her up just like. because thats the only date of real significance to her anyway and she had to put Something.
but then consider the angst about that because :^) frank knows that despite liking the date, its also when he killed her parents and hes like (clenched fists) yayyyyy :anguish: and you know, i dont want to think about him and naomi too much because it makes me emo (does so anyway).
0 notes