#.my writing

[highpatia]

glances short | the hunger games: tbosas

sejanus plinth/reader — hurt/comfort but mainly hurt, angst, goodbyes

content. angst, spoilers?

author’s note. another short fic but oh well (0.690k)

You’d never forget the warmth his gaze felt on your skin. Like an early summer morning, the sunlight beaming on your waking figure. You were quick to keep it hidden in your reminiscence, like it would be effortless to strip it away from you.

The late nights that were spent together, you’d sneak into his bedroom from the cracked window. Embracing one another in the wake of night, skipping pages of worn books. You knew it was risky from the start. A cloak-and-dagger type of relationship, hidden by bedsheets and sheer glances to one another.

“A small ceremony, maybe in the forest or on the coastline. Just you and me, maybe my parents but they’d never let it be so quiet.” He whispered against your hair and he held you tight to his body.

You laughed quietly, hands rolling over his forearms in comfort. “Then, we’d run away. Far away from the Capitol, maybe to district two, back home.” The words lingered on his tongue like he was tasting them for the first time, never would you think he wanted to go back there.

You hum in agreement before tilting your head back, looking at his face. Sejanus’ eyes held contentment as he looked back into yours— but a modest hint of trouble, like he was expecting you to laugh in his face at the idea of fleeing. As you both had a life here in the Capitol. It wasn’t perfect of course, but you’d be sparse to find it anywhere else in Panem.

Ignoring the weight in your gut you tilt your head further before leaning in and pressing a small kiss to his lips. It was quick but it still painted a subtle red to his cheeks. “I’ll go wherever you go, Sejanus. I promise.”

You were told that messing with the Plinth boy would most likely get you expelled, but you were willing to be caught in the maw of the Capitol’s fat cats if it meant you’d be there with your boy.

He was kind. In one way or another, too kind. He didn’t fit in with his peers, they thought of him as district scum. If you were any greener, the same ideas would have run circles in your head. But you knew he was as kind as he was gentle, always dreaming of making a difference, altering the course of life.

So when you found yourself with dewy eyes looking at him in distress, you knew he wouldn’t change his mind about it.

“It’ll be over before you know it. I’ll come back home to you after my service and then we’ll wed.” It was like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “Just like we talked about.” His hands were trembling as he held your tear ridden face.

You lifted your hands to the top of his head. They’d shaved Sejanus’ hair for the field, as childish as it was you couldn’t help but feel grief for the lack of his soft tresses. He choked out a laugh before grazing his calloused thumbs over the surface of your face, brushing away the fresh tears.

He lent forwards and knocked his forehead against yours, eyes closed. He kept himself close to you for a moment, just revelling in the joint intimacy between the two of you. A few minutes went by before the bell rang out, indicating that the train was about to depart. It made your heart drop as small sobs began to escape you again, Sejanus silenced you with a kiss and gripped your shaking hands in his.

“Promise me you’ll wait, please.” His voice was quivering, as you separate, his now open eyes glossed over. “Promise me you won’t forget about me.” He says while removing himself from your figure. You blubber out promises as he lets go of your hands and begins walking over to the train door.

You stand unmoving, like you were stuck in a forever nightmare. As he looks over his shoulder to see you while stepping into the carriage, you can’t help but dredge that this is the last look you’ll ever share.

#.my writing #.tbosas #tbosas x reader #the hunger games x reader #hunger games x reader #thg x reader #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #sejanus plinth

[wqxianwriting]

how to make a golden retriever happy.

SLIGHTLY proofread | f!reader | poly relationship with nick & charlie though reader isn’t dating charlie | pretty damn long i got ahead of myself, sorry :,) | they’re so cute but im so bad at details fr | lunch date, walks, stargazing w fireflies & movie night! (you got headbands to wear… guess what movie charlie is having y’all watch rn) | what is stargazing | author questioning what color sonic’s eyes are | theres some crying at the end and a mention of breaking up but its just those negative thoughts actin up, theyre all okay :) | angst/comfort? | not many kisses unfortunately but THERE ARE SOME, like three scenes… two? | there is cussing, not much | nick & reader flashbacks

#%a/n%#;; first request done! thanks for it, they mean so much to me. i didn’t wanna make it too long but here we are lolol, hope it’s enjoyable though 🥹💜 also ntm on your family details but your mom does appear and she has a “set” personality! no one else appears though so you can imagine the reader’s family how you want, though it is mentioned your mom is married. also note, since reader is a lady she goes to the same school as like, elle darcy tara (and probably imogen too, right?). meant to post this yesterday but i wanted to add some stuff at the end haha, sorry sorry this is a whole ass wattpad book fr, feel like i wrote so much and nothing at the same time. hope you enjoy if you give it a read thought fhdhdj

OH YEAH last thing, the emotions in this story is kind of a whiplash 💀 one minute they’re happy the next theyre kinda sad or bittersweet so- hopefully the pacing doesnt seem bad… BE WARNED. shouldn’t be too crazy. okay thats it this time do enjoy

character(s):

nick & charlie (heartstopper)

elle & tao cameo

reader’s mom omg she’s a sweetheart, charlie’s parents are mentioned/super small cameo, nick’s mom also has a small cameo/is mentioned

darcy, imogen and sahar are very briefly mentioned!

The sweet sound of the school bell rings throughout and the school and every single student sighs in relief of the noise. You glance up at the clock on the wall before looking around the classroom where students are packing up their bags while talking noisily to one another.

You allow yourself to recline in your chair, left arm reaching back to where your backpack dangles off the seat and slide your hands into the side pocket, grabbing your phone.

Nicky Ricky Dicky: I’m alive!

Char: you live! i live too :) wanna walk together today or are you both busy? (gonna pick you up bestie)

Y/N: i’ll meet you outside (ty loveliest)

Char: awesome!!! nick?

Nicky Ricky Dicky: Sorry aha, I need to go home quickly today but I’ll be sure to join tomorrow!

This makes you pout and you can imagine your bestfriend having the same expression because the sad emoji he wrote in the group-chat even makes you sadder.

Char: ☹️

Y/N: don’f worry charlie

Y/N: Don’t*

Nicky Ricky Dicky: Sorry :,)

Char: It’s fine! Do what you have to do… we gonna facetime tonight though?

Char hearts your message ‘don’f worry charlie’.

Nicky Ricky Dicky: No promises but I’ll do my best. 😠❤️

Nicky Ricky Dicky: i gtg now, love you both <3

Y/N: lym! ❤️

Char: love you! ❤️❤️❤️

Y/N: three hearts 🥹

Char: y/n. STOP. come outside before i die

Y/N: omg… such a drama king like okay

You write and yet, you’re quick to jump from your chair and snatch your bag before sliding it on your shoulder. You push in your chair and skip out into the hallways where you see Elle. “Heya, Elle!”

She smiles warmly and waves goodbye to her friends before stepping in sync with you. “Hey there, Miss, didn’t catch your name.” You bump her shoulder and she bumps you back. “What’re you up to?”

“Charlie’s gonna come pick me up, hopefully via bike… mines broke the other day.” You sigh and she gives you a look of pity while trying to bite back a grin. Then she perks up.

“Not Nick?”

You shake your head, rubbing a hand against your temple. “Mm-mm, you ever just get a feeling something is off?”

Elle nods, turning her face away from you and her hands grip onto the handle of her bag that bounces against her legs. “Yeah, just putting it out there… graduation may be on his mind, I know its on mine and it’s been kicking my ass to be honest,” You wrap an arm around her in comfort and she hums in appreciation. “Just all that weird stuff, weird thoughts and anxiety…” Then she pauses, raising a hand and flicking her wrist. “Okay- not weird, but you know.”

That makes you snort, “Yeah, I get’cha… maybe, but we’ve always been open about that kind of stuff, I just don’t understand why it’d be a issue… I mean, we’ve talked about it many times before so it’s kind of odd, I guess?” You and Elle share a look of confusion before shrugging.

“Maybe it’s been having more of an impact y’know? You can speak easily about something when you’re not there yet but… graduation is coming up and everyone is worried about the future. You know how things don’t hit you till it’s happening literally next week or something? Maybe its hitting harder.”

Your heart clenches in pain at those words. She’s not wrong, there is a high chance it’s staring to affect him more… hitting harder than you’d know. You nibble on your bottom lip in concern and furrow your eyebrows,

“Well. If he’s being an idiot and isn’t gonna come to us about it then I’ll beat him up.” You place your hands on your hips, lightly joking to disperse the tense air between the two of you. Of course he isn’t being an idiot but you refuse to let him stress on his own. Elle chokes out a laugh in surprise.

“Oh god, he better run, she’s scary when she’s angry.” One of her hands let go of her bag and she hold her stomach while laughing a bit more. “Wouldn’t that be a sight?”

You scoff, “Like we haven’t argued before.”

“You argue about literal video games.”

“Stop.” You laugh and push at her shoulder. “Oh, and Elle, you know I’m your friend and if you ever need an ear to lend about college talk or need help to get your mind off of it to just relax, you got me.” She stares at you for a few beats before cracking into a grin.

“Thank you, Y/N. You know you got me too.”

Outside the school building you’re quick to spot two familiar figures by the gate. “Yes, he’s here!” Your arms raise in celebration then instantly flop down, “There’s no bike…!”

Elle calls out which makes the two boys stiff in seconds.

“Get your butts over here, Mr. Xu and Mr. Spring!” They awkwardly crane their necks to your direction and simultaneously sigh in relief – probably thinking you were teachers.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Tao exclaims as you and Elle once you’re right infront of the two, gesturing to his heart. Elle is quick to place a hand over his chest – Tao’s cheeks lowkey reddening but you decide not to point it out for his sake – and her eyes widen a bit.

“Tao, your chest is gonna shoot out your chest.”

“See?”

“That is the goal, sire.” You finger gun at him and he smacks your hand away lightly with an exasperated look. It makes you giggle. “Elle is just feeling a little silly today.”

“It’s my agenda.” She grins before engulfing Charlie into a hug and he squeaks in surprise before squeezing her back. “Hello, Charlie!”

“Are you sure your heart isn’t pounding because you’ve gotten your daily dose of Elle?” You whisper while stepping in line next to Tao, facing your head to your other friends but you can see him tense at the corner of your eye.

He pinches his nose bridge, mumbling and you catch some of the words, suspiciously sounding like him saying he’s gonna fight you. His cheeks bloom a rosy rose so you take the win either way and smugly smirk at him.

“Hi, Elle!” His muffled laugh catches your attention, making you and Tao smile at the interaction before you wrap an arm around the latter, making him eyeroll, of course he does, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder and gives you a light squeeze in response.

“We best be off on our merry way,” You speak up, checking the time as the two friends let go of eachother. “I wanna stop by that new shop that opened a few weeks ago… Is that fine, Char?”

He gives you a thumbs up and Elle speaks, “Let me know how their desserts taste, I’ve been wondering but honestly they don’t look that good so…” She stares at you with a grimace before shrugging.

“Noted~” You say in a singsong voice before wrapping your arms around Charlie. “I’ll call you later, enjoy your afternoon date.” You and Charlie give the couple teasing grins and they take the bait, looking away in shyness but Tao takes the initiative and connects their hands together. It makes you melt.

“Shut up.” He groans, snapping but tone very much unthreatening adding on the fact he’s trying to cover his flustered face with his free hand.

“Yes, yes grumpy old man, we’ll see you later.” You and Charlie waist no time to start down the road with waves.

“Bye!” He shouts.

“I’m not a grumpy old man!” Tao stomps his foot, comedically. Right. How could you make that mistake?

“Bye, Y/N and Charlie!” Elle laughs with a wave and tugs her totally-not-grumpy boyfriend off in the other direction. You watch their hands tighten around eachother, squinting in amusement when Tao’s scowl instantly softens into a lovestruck gaze.

“Ahhh, young love.”

“You’re starting to sound like the old one here.” Charlie snickers, hands coming up to hold onto your forearms that are still bounded around him.

“You wound me, Char.” You squeeze him and he huffs. “I literally think the same when you and Nick are interacting, it’s so,” You make weird noises, fingers wiggling. “Y’know? Very sweet. Very cute, I even have some photos of you latching onto eachother while sleeping. Wanna see-?”

His brain feels like it’s shutting down, lightly smacking your arm when you lift it as to grab your phone. “Stop it.” You could practically see those animated stars swirling around his head and laugh.

You relent and unwrap your arms with a cheeky smile. He glances at you before hiding his face in his hands. “Ughh, whatever. You act like you don’t jump Nick the minute you see him.” Yeah, that’s crazy. You feel your own cheeks flaring up.

“You must be blind.”

“No, no, no. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lie!” He exclaims in a joking tone, uncovering his face and poking you in accusation. You lean away, losing your balance and forcing yourself to lean on your tippy toe. Your other foot comes down onto pavement with a stomp and you twirl like you’re dancing. Charlie definitely notices this misstep, doesn’t say anything but you see his shoulders shaking in silence. He’s laughing.

“I never lie?” You pick off the conversation.

“Was that a question?” He tilts his head back at you.

“No?”

He stares at you, eyebrow twitching and you puff out your cheeks like a frog, looking anywhere but in his direction. “You’re awfully cheeky today.”

“How am I being cheeky?” He gives you a look like you’re being ridiculous.

“Charlie Spring is a little cheeky today, my oh my, what have I done to deserve this.” Then you raise your voice in a slight yell, “Ahhh! Who is this?! This isn’t my Charlieeee…!” Your arms reach for the sky.

“You’re an idiot.” He takes the chance and poke you again which makes you yelp. You narrow your eyes. He runs off, you chase.

That was last week. You haven’t seen your boyfriend in a couple of days and it’s concerning. He responds hours late to your messages, doesn’t even respond in your group chat with Charlie, his calls barely last ten minutes and you literally haven’t seen this man in person. Charlie tells you he still shows up at school but his eye-bags are pretty bad.

“Is he avoiding me? I’m confused.” You frown, balled up on Charlie’s bed and feeling very mixed. A little annoyed, a little sad, and alot of worried. Charlie sets down two mugs on his bedside table and sits next to you on the bed. His rests a hand atop of your head and lightly taps it.

“No… I don’t think so. I see him at school and he tries to act normal but even he doesn’t respond to me like that outside of school.” The scowl his face makes has deepened and you’re quick to wrap an arm around his leg in comfort. He lets out a weak smile but it’s quick to fall off his face. “I’m confused too…”

You both stay silent, it’s nearly deafening. “I don’t wanna force him to tell us anything – I mean, he knows he can come to us if he needs it but if he’s really stressed about school maybe we can help give him some space to not think about it. Even if its only for a bit, you know?” Charlie listens to you mumble while tugging at a loose thread on his sweater and nods slowly, eyes lost in thought.

“Should we go somewhere?” He tilts his head back to look at the ceiling before his gaze travels around his room’s walls, hoping to find an inkling of inspection.

“That sounds fine.” The somber feeling in the room lifts a bit when you start to grin. You shift onto your back, raising your right arm in the air and sprawl out your fingers. “We could go out, do something and eat… I kinda wanna stargaze, is that weird?”

He lets out a chuckle, glancing down at you with a teasing glint in his eyes, “Wow, you’re such a romantic, Y/N. I’m shocked.” To which you scoff.

“Well, duh. Who makes all the date plans?”

“Okay, no, that’s because you say we’re bad at planning dates – you refuse us to even be involved.”

“Charlie, Nick brought you to a dog park as a date.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“You both stayed there till nine.”

He full on laughs now, bumping you with his knee and you smack it back in retort. “No judgement though, I would do the same but that was for the whole day! Who stays at a dog park from Eleven to Nine?” He continues to laugh until they turn into giggles.

“Maybe… we’re unique.”

“True that. You didn’t even bring baby Nells, shaking my head.” To put emphasis, you shake your head and your friend has to gasp out for air. “Don’t die, now.”

“Whatever whatever.” He brings his hands to his face and rubs his cheeks in circular motion to calm himself. His face is flushed and he exhales slowly before reaching for his phone. “Do you want your drink?”

You remove your arm from his leg and sit up properly, holding on your hands and he complies, placing the mug between them. “Thank you~” You lean on the wall, flopping your legs onto Charlie’s before crossing them at the ankles – to which he sighs in annoyance and it makes you grin. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m gonna search for places to go that is nearby but not too close… you have a place in mind for stargazing?” He grabs his own mug that is black and littered with yellow stars, how ironic. You nod sleepily, slowly sipping your preferred drink and tap at the cup absentmindedly.

“Yeah, it’s near my house.”

He flicks his eyes towards you for a second.

Then goes back to typing on his phone.

“You mean it is your home.”

“Maybe.”

You smirk, he sighs and you both go back to planning. Nick honestly better be willing to get his ass dragged out of the house by his lovely girlfriend and boyfriend because money is involved and you both would be damned if he just wallows in self despair, alone.

So, that’s what happens, you fill Charlie’s parents in on needing to steal your bestfriend during the weekend and some of the plans involved like a movie night. They agreed to let him stay over for the night but he must call every few hours or atleast text.

Your parents love the boys and were completely down with the idea. Of course you also secretly called Nick’s mum and she had filled you in on a couple things that made you a tad bit more nervous to see your boyfriend.

Seems like your assumption was correct (more like Elle’s). “Lately he’s been talking about colleges, right… he’s planning to go on a trip sometime this month to check them out but he seems stressed, it’s been worrying me. You know though, kids probably don’t want their parents all in their business, haha,” She laughs softly and you can hear running water cut off on her end – probably washing something – “He knows he can come to me so I’m just letting him have his space. It’s lovely you and Charlie want to ease his mind! Glad he’s with and friends with two sweethearts,” This makes your face flare up in embarrassment but your chest puffs with pride.

“Of course, and I know he appreciates you being patient and understanding with him. The thing we don’t wanna do is pressure him… I just hope this can help take his mind off of the stress and you know… relax?” You grimace a bit, tugging at the end of your sleeve as the phone sits between your ear and shoulder.

“I get it, mhm. Thank you, Y/N.” Her voice is still soft but gets even more sincere with a hint of emotion. Had you feeling emotional too.

Saturday is quick to arrive and you stare at your reflection with determination. Brushing down your outfit, you admire your date look a bit more before turning around slowly and snatch your bag off the bed which is filled with random necessities that you may or may not need along with your wallet.

“Alright, Nick Nelson, prepare yourself for the best date you’ll ever be on.” You puff out your cheeks, grab you phone of the charger and exit your room. “I’ll be off, Mother~” You hum once you reach the end of the staircase and spot your Mom on the couch with a paper in hand.

“What is with the formal address?” She chuckles behind her hand, standing up and following you towards the front door. “I’ll see you later tonight with Nick and Charlie, right? Enjoy yourselves.” She smiles, wrapping her arms around your head and you hug her back with a gentle squeeze.

“Oh! Wait.”

She quickly unravels herself from you and speeds down the hall to the kitchen. Your eyes stare down the direction she went for a few seconds before deciding to slip on your shoes.

“Okay, here you go.” You’re standing with the door open by the time she comes back and she gives you a picnic basket. It’s not super big but you have to grab it with two hands. Less from the size, more from the weight.

“Mom. What did you pack in here?” You huff out a laugh, going to open the lid but she stops you.

“No, do not open it. It’s like… a wedding. You can’t see your spouse or it’ll be bad luck!” She speaks with a finger raised and you cock an eyebrow up. Whatever you say, Mom is basically your expression and she seems to notice because she places her hands on her hips with an exasperated look. “Just trust me, I’ve done it before and it was bad luck all day.”

“Mhm, mhm, right.” You nod, half listening and backing up on your porch. She follows, hand on the doorknob with a soft smile and she pinches your cheek with her other hand. “Thanks, I love you.”

“Love you too, honey.” She full on grins now and waves. After your ‘see you later’ promises, you’re quick to dart down the street and across the roads to a nearby park where Charlie said he’d meet you after picking up Nick. It gives you enough time to unload the nice lunch packed for the three of you and hopefully buy some refreshing popsicles or ice creams before they arrive.

Seems like luck is on your side though – maybe your Mom was right – because the minute you finish laying out the huge blanket in a nice shaded area you hear the sound of someone ringing a familiar bell sound. You turn your head so quick it nearly gave you whiplash and your eyes widen at the person walking along the park’s path, pushing a white squared cart decorated with photos of different types of cold treats.

You take your bag and phone, dialing Charlie’s number while speedwalking across the grassy field. It takes two rings before you hear his voice.

“Yes, partner in crime?” His voice comes off as staticky for a moment.

“What the hell are you doin’, your mic is scuffed as hell…”

“I’m walking!” You could imagine the eyeroll Charlie would do and bite your cheek to not laugh.

“Are you with Nick?” You continue to talk but smile in greeting when the ice cream seller stops at you coming over. He says hello and you wave before looking over all the choices on the cart.

“Yes. We’re grabbing drinks right now, you okay?”

“Yeah! I’m at the park, set up the picnic – though the food is still in the basket,” You glance back at your spot and after making sure nothing seems out of the ordinary you look back at the cart. “You remember those ice cream cart things? You want something?”

It’s silent between the two of you as Charlie ponders, in the meantime you point to your desired choice and the guy nods with a smile, opening the ice cream cart before digging around in the pile of cold desserts until he finds the one you want.

“Do they-“ He cuts himself off with a chuckle and you perk up at his voice, “Do they um,” He snorts this time then sighs to calm himself, “The ones with the bubblegum eyes. I wanna try one.”

You laugh a little, thanking the ice cream man as he sets the packaged treat in your hand. “Do you want the sonic one or something?”

“Whatever you spot first or whichever is given. Oh wait- Nick-“ You zone out a bit as he speaks to the blond and point to the blue hedgehog. The ice cream man continues his search. “He said he wants the crybaby ice cream.”

“Oh god.” You sigh in adoration, tilting your head back to the clear blue sky. “Weren’t they, like, terrible the last time we tried them?”

This time you hear Nick’s cheerful voice and he scoffs, “Okay, no. That was because for some weird reason you and Darcy wanted to put warheads into the mix.”

“Thank you,” You say to the nice man, grabbing a ten and a five dollar bill as a tip out of your wallet with a smile. You then put all the treats into your bag along with the wallet, waving the man bye which he returns and goes on his merry way. Your focus goes back to the two boys. “Ah yes, I remember the part where your face went sooo red. Hilarious, I have videos I think.”

He groans in prospect and you hear muffled giggles erupt from Charlie. “Why do you do this to me?”

“What are you talking about?” You tease and he groans again.

Charlie then speaks up, sounding way closer to the phone. “Alright! We’ll see you in two-point-five seconds.” You hum in response and say your goodbyes before hanging up the phone.

You reach the blanket again, flopping on your tush and take the ice creams out, aligning them with precision on top of the picnic basket. Charlie doesn’t disappoint because not two minutes later you see two familiar figures walking down the park path, one of them pointing towards your general direction and ditching the path to the grass.

You could feel your heart pound from… nervousness or excitement? Maybe both and it makes you grin, waving at the two. They get closer and Charlie waves awkwardly with a hand that has a drink in it, to which you notice his other hand also had a drink… and one of Nick’s. The blond’s other hand is carrying headbands of some sort and a bag is hanging off his arm.

“Char told me to get these while we were in the grocery store.” Nick speaks first when they get to you, he lifts the hand with headbands. “I decided not to question it.” You raise your hands and he carefully sets the accessories in them. Ah. Barbie headbands.

“Charlie…” Your brows pinch in amusement but also bewilderment. “What have you decided?”

He chuckles mysteriously, lifting a foot off the ground to point at your hand. “Put those down and take your drink, please. My hands are freezing.”

“Oops.” You comply and take the cup. The two eventual settle down with Nick in the middle and you quietly take a nice sip of the beverages. “Thank you.”

The boys nod and you glance at Nick, noticing the shadows of bags under his eyes. It makes you frown for a second, “So, what am I doing here on this lovely day.” Before you could inquire, Nick speaks up first, eyes shutting in contentment and a pretty smile adoring his face.

You lean back on the palm of your hand, eyeing Charlie and he meets your gaze. “Can we not want to hang out with the one and only, Mr. Nick Nelson?” You speak with a teasing tone, leaning into his side. His smile goes wider and he opens his eyes to meet yours.

“You make me sound like some big shot.”

Your eyes narrow.

“Well it was hard to reach you… so…” His gaze falters along with his smile, nervously tapping the top of his cup. “Not to pressure you, you know that but Charlie and I will always be there to listen if you need it.” You poke his arm gently and you spot Charlie’s hand sliding into Nick’s.

“Yeah.” Charlie nods, squeezing their hands, “But if not, that’s fine too. Y/N and I wanted to just, relax with you. Spend some time together.”

That makes Nick let out a shaky laugh and a wobbly smile. “Thanks.” He pauses. “Really. It’s just been, crazy?” He nibbles at his bottom lip before sighing and flops on his back, leaving his cup between his crossed legs and dragging the two of you down with him – which makes you all share a laugh.

Charlie rests against his boyfriend’s chest – facing his direction and you flip onto your stomach to play with both of their soft locks. “What has?” You ask softly.

He’s silent for a bit, tapping his fingers on your back with his free hand. “I’m not sure, school? Life? …Me? There’s no exact reason, everything just seems to be crashing down in my brain and it’s annoying to say the least.” He sighs heavily, “I’m probably just having that kind of month where everything is just feels like alot.” He frowns and you move the hand in his hair down under his chin, gently squeezing his cheeks and he chuckles.

“That’s perfectly fine, it happens.” You move the hand to trail up the left side of his face and place your palm over his forehead like you’re checking his temperature and it makes Charlie join in, prodding at Nick’s neck gently.

“There’s a lot going through your life right now, perfectly understandable why it feels overwhelming and such. Thank you for talking to us about it.” Charlie speaks softly.

“Of course. I don’t,” Nick pauses, opening his eyes with a flash of worry, “I don’t want it to feel like I’m shutting you both out or anything, or if it feels like you’ve done something wrong. I feel less weird thinking I’m overreacting, haha…” The laugh comes off flat but from the reassuring smiles from his lovers, he feels at ease.

“You’re not.”

“Nuh-uh.” You and Charlie speak simultaneously, denying such thoughts. It makes Nick laugh which sounds less forceful.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to talk about everything right now since I don’t even think I’m done… accessing everything but really, thank you. You both are my anchors.” If you didn’t tear up from that, your heart definitely did. Charlie gets up off Nick, letting go of the blond’s hand and tilts his head back with his hands over his face.

“Same, Charlie.” You cover your own face and lay flat against the blanket.

“I…” Nick trails off with another laugh and he sits back up which catches both of your attention. “Can we eat though, I’m getting a little hungry.” He gives a shy smile and you also sit up.

“Oh shit, what if the ice cream melted?!” This realization has the three of you shooting towards the basket, grabbing the packaged delights and simultaneously sigh in relief. They’re not melted… yet.

“Should we just eat these first and then eat the actual lunch next?” Charlie bites back a laugh, already opening up the plastic and pulling out the bubblegum eye Sonic, wasting no time to put it in his mouth with wide adorning eyes.

You and Nick watch him in amusement before opening your own. “I wanted this lime popsicle they usually sell but there were none.” You sigh before eyeing Nick’s container of airhead ice cream. He opens the top and it reveals the swirls of… red? Or pink and green.

“That’s funny, we saw those while we were at the store. There were these coconut flavors too.” Nick reminisces, plucking the taped but wrapped in it’s own plastic wooden spoon off the side of the ice cream container.

Charlie hums before looking down at the bitten into Sonic, “Why does Sonic have green eyes? Are they actually green?”

You all stay silent.

“I thought they were black or brown?” You speak in confusion.

“Right? Even blue….” Charlie tilts his head.

“Technically all of those are correct though they turn red as well… It’s the different franchises, I guess?” Nick furrows his brows in thought, scooping into his sour treat after freeing the wooden stick and eats away, wincing here and there. You watch with amusement.

The lunch date you can say with absolute certainty was very successful. You all catch up on things that have been going on and different shows you’ve been watching. Sharing ice cream, stuffing yourselves full with your Mom’s cooking – there was even a drink war? All you knew was one minute you were nearly done with your beverage and the next it’s being tossed in Nick’s direction as you try and run away from Charlie’s retort from you getting him seconds before. Ah, can’t forget the classic kisses shared under one of the many trees at the park and the newest photos stored in your ‘Nick & Char ❤️’ album, like the picture of Charlie ‘painting’ Nick’s face with whip cream. Where the fuck did you get whip cream from? Ask your mother.

Around the time you were all packing up, a teenager around your age ran up with their four other friends and inform you there is a nice walking trail – pointing towards the area where the park path splits, one continuing into a circle around the whole field and the other going into an area with rows of trees.

“Y’think we’ll get jumpscared? Like a haunted path or something.” You joked.

“They said there’s a nice stream down the path.” Nick smirks at your joking, placing a hand on your head and you puff out your cheeks, feeling them heat up a bit.

“Ah yes, you can take a nice swim in it when I push you in there, Y/N.” Charlie hums, quick to dart his eyes away when you flip your head in his direction.

“You’re so evil to me?” You watch him with wild eyes, mouth agape and he laughs.

“Do you think we’ll actually able to get in?” Nick ponders and you flip the wild gaze to him now.

“With us three, I’m sure we can pull it off.” Charlie responds with a menacing grin, mischief all up in his eyes and you’re playing ping pong with your eyes, flitting back and forth between them.

“I’m gonna be arrested today, huh…” Your boyfriend and bestfriend just giggle like evil people.

In the end, you three didn’t get in the stream’s water but there were some fishes so you decided to feel them the crust that Charlie didn’t eat from his sandwich and take some more photos. Nick had picked Charlie up bridal-style, getting dangerously close to the water and you record it all.

“Don’t drop me!” Charlie tightens his hold around Nick, fear and excitement in his tone.

“This takes me back to the beach…” Nick ignores his boyfriend’s pleas and spins around carefully.

“Do not reminisce while I’m in your arms, please and thank you?!” He exclaims and it makes you full on laugh, an arm over your stomach while watching the whole exchange happen.

It’s not long before it turns from afternoon to evening, you three return back from the area with Nick and Charlie debating on if they saw a deer or not. Charlie saying it was definitely there and Nick saying it wasn’t there.

“Carl Grimes flashbacks…” You hum and Charlie puts you in a headlock.

“Do not. I will cry right here.” He pouts and pulls at your cheeks, ignoring your protests. Nick watches with a soft gleam in his eyes, rocking the picnic basket back and forth with a hand.

You all walk down the sidewalk side by side once Charlie lets you go, talking about random things before Nick realizes the direction you’re going.

“Are we dropping Y/N off?” He frowns.

It catches you and Charlie off guard. “What? What makes you think that?” You raise an eyebrow. Nick points ahead and your house in slowly coming up in view. Ah.

“Ah.” Charlie speaks your thought and you both share a laugh. “No, we’re not dropping her off.” Charlie stretches his arms with a grunt before eyeing the bag strapped around Nick. “You brought pajamas and clothes for tomorrow, right?”

Nick nods, pursing his lips. “Still confused about that.”

You scoff in amusement and place a hand on your forehead with an endearing smile. “Nick…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll understand soon.” Charlie gives him a thumbs up, paired with a wink before darting ahead of the two of you. Nick flicks his gaze to you in question but you put on an act and shrug.

“What he said,” You pause for a moment, eyes burning into Nick’s, “Do you like stargazing?”

He moves closer to you, closing the gap and tugs your hand in his. The question makes him look up at the sky for a moment. “Mmm. Never tried it before? What counts as stargazing? I’ve… been in the car on trips and looked out the window…?” You give him a perplexed look which he returns.

“Alright, well-“ You chuckle, “That can… technically count? I guess? Just… Yeah.” You give up midway, tugging Nick along when you get closer to the front of your house where Charlie awaits. “You’re on your phone while you’re on a date? Tsk tsk.” You tut your lips in disapproval and Charlie startles.

He rolls his eyes, flipping his phone to the two of you bounding up the steps. “I was texting Saha- oops, hold on-“ He cuts himself off, flipping the phone back around with a nervous smile.

You glance at Nick before moving your hand to cover his eyes with your other hand. He gasps in surprise but doesn’t question it any further, grinning a bit. Facing back to Charlie you mouth the word, ‘Barbie?’ and tilt your head in confusion. He nods.

“You’re silly.” You remove your hand from Nick’s face and flatten your hand, tapping Charlie’s forehead in a chopping motion. He rubs the area with a laugh and you knock on your front door.

“Did you forget your keys?” Nick giggles when you give him a look of shame.

“Maybe.”

Your Mom is quick to open the door, grinning widely. “Welcome back. Hello, Charlie and Nick.” They wave in shyness and she scoots back to let the three of you in. “What’s the plan next, soldier?” She bumps the door closed with her hip and loosely crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow at you specifically.

“Gonna go in the back for about an hour…” You trail off, taking your shoes off in the most complicated way. With your feet, or the heels per-say. When you finish you take the basket from Nick and walk to the kitchen with your mom as the boys finish taking off their own shoes. “To stargaze.” You finally finish when Nick’s ears are out of reach.

She pats you on the back with approval, “Attagirl. How was lunch?”

“It was fun! We spoke a bit, ate and went down a trail.” You bounce your head to the side while listening the activities before pausing. “He seems more… energized?” Your lips purse.

“Was that a question?” She leans against the counter, one arm coming out of the self-hug and she combs her hand through your hair. You give her an awkward look and she breathes out a laugh. Tapping the crown of your forehead, she moves away to the fridge with a soft smile. “Well, if he seems to be uplifted,” She eyes you before taking out three water bottles. “That’s great news, no?” Then sets them infront of you on counter.

“You’re right but… I don’t know. I just feel like I can do more,” You huff. “But that’s dumb because of course I can’t, this has to be something Nick figures out and all I can do is support him.”

“Honey, that is doing more for him. Supporting him is the biggest help you can five someone, along with what you’re already doing. Taking him out, letting him have space to clear his mind and being a safe net. Same thing with Charlie, no?“ Her hands latch onto your shoulders and give the muscles a gentle squeeze. “I know it feels like you want to do so much more but, there’s only so much.” You tilt your head back and look up at her with a half-smile before relenting.

“You’re right.”

“A mother is always right.” She lets go and moves towards the stove, giving you a smug side eye… which you return with an unamused eyeroll.

“Yes, yes. My mother is always right. Sometimes.”

“About ninety-nine percent.”

“Ninety-five…” You lift an eyebrow and give her pointed look. She has a spoon in her hand when she looks over you and points it to her chin in thought, it’s just a bit though.

“Ninety-seven. Take it or leave it.”

You scoff in amusement before scooping up the bottles, “Whatever you say, ma’am. We’ll be outside.” She hums in understanding and you exit out the kitchen, walking into the dining room before reaching the living room where the duo waits.

“Pleasure for you to join us.” Charlie smirks and takes two of the bottles from your arms with a nod of thanks.

“Be welcomed.” Nick muses with a grin and cracks open the bottle, taking a quick refreshing sip.

“What is this speech? I hate it.” Your face scrunches up in disgust before gesturing to the sliding glass door. “Shall we?”

“Look who’s doing it now…” Charlie stares at you cheekily. You give him the finger, he returns it.

There are slides in a shoe rack near the door and you three take a pair before stepping out. Nick’s eyes widen in wonder. Your backyard has a big blanket – similar to the one from the picnic – sitting in the middle of the area that has a plot of grass and lanterns that hang off metal rods sit nicely around in the grass that have curves at the end, doing nicely as handles. What surprises you are the little bugs that fly and flicker with a yellow-green gleam in the air.

“Since when do we get fireflies?” You speak first.

“Since forever, Y/N.” Charlie poked your back and you jump, flipping around to get him back but he’s already slipped behind Nick.

“You little…”

“Ah, ah ah, you have to be nice to me.”

“Says who?” He’s being ridiculous.

“Says me. Your bestfriend.” He peaks around Nick’s side – who, mind you, is still focusing on the backyard’s look – with a teasing grin.

“I’mma beat you up.”

“No!” He lets out a laugh when you lunge towards him, twirling out of your reach and running around with you flailing behind.

It felt special to Nick. The orange-red sky turning into it’s pitch dark blue color, stars twinkling down on you three with a full moon bright. His eyes are stuck on his two partners, the fireflies swirling around them out of disturbance but still they still decorate the backyard with green-yellow hues, not ready to leave. He remembers this conversation you had in this backyard a year ago…

“Do you think fireflies come around this area?” You were sitting on a bean bag, legs tucked beneath yourself and were practically sunken into the ‘seat.’ Charlie had insisted you to put it on the concrete side of the backyard so you did and now your face is hidden behind Nick’s switch in your hands.

Speaking of who, Nick is currently soaked wet, wringing out the ends of his shirt and Charlie wraps himself up in a towel. It’s late night, pitch dark but they wanted to play with water balloons and your Mom happened to be out of the house to pick up dinner.

“Maybe…” He leans back to look at the sky. “Why? Do you like fireflies or something?” He looks back down at you. The question has you silent for a couple of beats before you set down the console. He watches you with an amused twinkle in his gaze, puffing out his chest in pride at seeing you in his sweater. Charlie had been wearing it earlier and you both traded before they brought out the balloons.

“I mean, I have never seen any so, maybe, maybe not.” You shrug, unfolding your legs and stretching them out with a groan. Your socked feet slap down against the concrete and you sit up a bit. “Don’t you think they’re kinda special though? My Mom said it’s like they’re glowing up your night, dancing around you and stuff.” You eye the floor. “Appearing on specials occasions like they know,” You lean back into the seat with a sigh, “Said that’s how she got married. Isn’t that crazy?”

Charlie purses his lips, tilting his head to the side before smiling, “Sounds magical. They’re the ‘true love’ bugs.” His smile widens into a grin.

“Exactly!” You snap your fingers with a nod, bumping your heel against the stone pavement.

“I’m sure they do appear out here though, don’t they come out at Midnight?” Charlie shivers while speaking, hugging the towel around himself tighter. You sympathize with a playful grin.

“Maybe. But well, you boys should get inside and warm up. We’ll try next time.”

“Nick! Are you gonna come and lay down?” He snaps out of his head, eyes darting to you and Charlie lying on the blanket though Charlie is trying to tap out from a leg lock you have him in.

He snorts in surprise, not missing a beat and closing the distance. “How the hell did this happen?”

“Nick! Help me~” Charlie wails before pinching your thigh, making you yelp and quickly let go.

“That is cheating!” You exclaim, rubbing your leg with a wince.

“All’s fair in war.” He snickers, reaching a hand out to Nick who takes it and sits down between you two.

It’s a nice silence between the three of you, you’re not sure who laid down first but you eventually followed. Nick has his arms wrapped around the two of you and you’ve glanced up at his face which shows contentment. You even met his gaze while peeking and it caught you off guard with how much his brown orbs were filled with much love and affection.

You reach a hand out towards Charlie and tussle at curls, making him whine in protest but lets you continue anyway. “I’m not good with constellations so you’re not gonna be getting that during this stargaze adventure.” You mumble against Nick with a laugh and it makes the other two chuckle.

“Nah, that’s alright… I’m happy with this…” You and Charlie freeze at how soft Nick’s voice sounds. Serene. Content. More than happy but not quite ecstatic. Filled with much love directed towards the two of you and it has your heart pounding.

You sit up on your elbow, making Nick’s arm slip off of you and he eyes you with suspicion. “Actually…” This would be way more comfortable on your knees so you sit up, tuck your calves beneath you and cuff Charlie’s face into your hands. It’s nearly laugh worthy of how quick his face turns a deep red and how you felt it happen under your touch.

You lean forward, careful not to face-plant into him – that would be awkward… and painful – pressing your lips against him. You both move into a soft but passionate rhythm. Your thumb brushes against his dusted cheeks, pressing hard against his lips one final time before moving back with a dazed grin.

He returns it, chuckling shyly before meeting Charlie’s intense gaze. You choke back a laugh with the swiftness of your friend sliding up a bit, hand softly cupping the side of Nick’s face and sharing their own kiss. Also very slow, and passionate. Your tilt your head up towards your house, eyeing the sliding door and sigh in relief to not see your Mom near it. By the time your gaze returns you’re meeting with the two boys staring at you with flushed faces.

“Oh my god, you’re so red.” You laugh.

“Shut up?” Charlie hands an arm over his face, probably burning up a bit more from the teasing.

The fireflies have died down, some still hanging around but you notice most are gone and a smile tugs at your lips. “Wanna go inside now?”

Charlie removes his arm with a sharp inhale and the two nod. “Do you need to bring the blanket in?” He points to the cloth when you all stand and you’re quick to shake your head.

“Nah. I’ll grab and wash it tomorrow,” You stretch your limbs, hearing some pop. “I need new bones…”

Nick sticks his tongue out in playful disgust, “That sounds horrific.”

“Wouldn’t that be crazy though? If we needed to trade in new bones when we’re old and seniors.”

“Y/N.” Charlie’s eyebrows bend and he grimaces, “Why do you come up with the most freaky scenarios.” It’s not a question.

“Yeah, like the apocalypse one from before.” Nick pitches in with a frown that falters into a smile.

You all step into the living room after you’re done turning off the lanterns and have grabbed your bottles, “Because my brain is so amazing that I just think of things you would never think of.” You make a gesture to your brain before wiggling your fingers like you’ve done a magic trick.

“Or so you say…” Charlie glances somewhere else before meeting your eyes, “Less would never think of more, shouldn’t think of.” He flicks his hand towards you, thumb and index finger out in a finger gun.

“Hey, these could be real life events soon to happen.”

“Yeah the bones theory would happen when we all become immortal.” He chuckles and you roll your eyes.

Then boom, jumpscare. Your Mom appears just as you’re settling on the couch. A screech leaves all of your mouths and she stares in shock with mild confusion and amusement.

“Hello to you three, too.” She giggles, walking over to the glass door, tugging the lock between the handle down and pulls the thick curtains down. “Enjoy stargazing?” She turns back around with a soft smile.

You three shift your gazes away. Apparently it wasn’t just you that still had the intimate moment in the back of your brain, huh? “Yeah, thanks Mom.”

If she noticed the slight awkwardness building up, she doesn’t mention it nor show it and instead clasps her hands together, “That’s wonderful! Dinner is finished so feel free to grab whatever you want. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” She fills you in on her own plan for the night which is pretty much staying in her room so you all have your own time. She then tilts her head, eyes spacing out until she perks up, “And then there’s brownies that are baking, should be finished soon. I set a timer so when you hear it please take it our for me, Y/N.”

You nod before frowning, “Why does it have to be me?” Apparently she didn’t understand from the confusion crossing her face. You then point to Charlie and Nick.

Charlie looks offended, “We are a guest?” but his tone is light.

“You practically live here? Your clothes are in my closet, mind you.” Nick and your Mom choke out a laugh while Charlie flares up, flustered.

“Nick’s are too?!”

“Which is why I included him in my pointing?!”

Two people are bickering, two people laughing at the scene. It doesn’t take long for you Mom to calm you both down, “It doesn’t matter who, it doesn’t matter if it’s all three of you. Please just don’t let them burn.” She chuckles a bit more before rubbing her hand against her collarbone to calm herself, “Have a great time. I’ll be in my room.” You all wave her ‘goodnight’ and she retreats upstairs.

You three share a silence. Then Nick speaks,

“…So what exactly are we doing? It seems you both are full of surprises today,” He wears a teasing look which makes you and Charlie look away.

“Don’t worry about it, mister. You enjoy the ride.” You talk first before nudging Charlie with your leg. “You put the movie on, I’ll go make our plates and...” You eye Nick for a moment not knowing what he should do.

“Nick, I put the backpack in Y/N’s room, could you go get it while we set up? Oh! The headbands too.” Charlie pitches in and grins at the mention of the headbands. You and Nick blink at him before standing up to dart down your own paths.

While you’re making the plates the oven timer does go off. You take a toothpick from one of the drawers, flick on the oven light, open the oven – making you flinch back from the heat – then poke the dark chocolate fudge goodness. It has baked all the way so you grab oven mitts and drag the pan of brownies out of it’s cooker, sets it on the stove and flick turn the oven off.

After making sure everything was set in the kitchen you grab two plates and exit the kitchen, back into the living room where the movie is paused on the TV right before it begins. Charlie stands up and helps grab the two plates, letting you dart back into the kitchen again for the last one just in time for Nick to return.

“Do you want drinks? We got juices, sodas, water, you name it.” You peak your head out behind the dining room wall and the two boys pause midway in putting on the barbie headbands. You bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

“Do you have that tropical mix?” Nick speaks and you nod, he points at you in affirmation of the drink then finishes adjusting the plastic accessory around his hair.

“Root beer, please.” Charlie speaks next before his eyes shine open and wide, “Do you think we can have floats…”

Your eyebrows perk up, “I think we have vanilla? But you’re not getting that till the brownies cool down.”

“Oh, they’re out? Thank Barbie.” He holds his hands up in a prayer.

You stare at him, very much unamused and he gives you a cheeky grin.

“I’ll have tropical juice for now then.”

With a thumbs up you return to the kitchen once more, grabbing three tall glass cups from the cabinet and grab the carton juice out the fridge. You fill up two cups before staring at your own. After deciding your choice of drink, you put everything away and startle while turning around and seeing Nick in the doorway.

“Sorry,” He smiles apologetically, walking up to you and grabbing the cups filled with juice that is his and Charlie’s. He catches you off guard once again, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before bounding off to the living room again.

“What the fuck.” You stand in oblivion, feeling your face heat up. You decide you won’t unpack that tonight, flicking off the kitchen light and rejoining your movie mates.

Nick and Charlie had switched spots to where the blond was in the middle like he had been all day and your boyfriend pats the free spot next to him. You comply, setting your cup on the table while sitting and you lean into Nick with a soft smile.

“You forgot this, kind ma’am.” Charlie grabs the plastic pink band and you lean forward. He puts it on carefully and leans back with a self-satisfied expression, grabbing the remote with a quite cheer. “Are we ready for the best movie night ever?”

You and Nick watch him with amusement, “Yes, Charles, we are.”

“Not Charles, I will fight you.” He shivers at the name.

“You call me Nicholas?” Nick speaks. It makes you laugh.

“It’s your real name.” He grins.

“Is Charles not your real name, Char?” You lift an eyebrow and he rolls his eyes, still wearing the grin.

“No, it is ‘Charlie “Char” Spring’.”

You let out an insufferable sigh.

“Y’know, Y/N has called me ‘Luke’ before.” Nick leans his head back with a scoff. This makes you have a full on belly laugh which makes Charlie react the same way. “Yes, yes laugh it away.” He sighs like he’s in pain.

It takes five minutes to calm down. You wipe a precious tear away, “It was on call too and he hung up. Would not answer for like, an hour.” You inhale deeply at the memory before laughing again.

“Should we start calling him Luke as a nickname?”

“Please, please don’t.” Nick squeezes the arm wrapped around Charlie’s waist with a pleading look.

“Awwe you can’t do that.” He pouts, reaching up to pinch Nick’s face.

“Dho wha?” He sounds funny with Charlie tugging at his face.

“The puppy eyed look. The doe eyes.” You bat your eyelashes at Nick when he eyes you from the corner of his eyes before rolling them.

“We’ve gone all dahy withosut this, nowh yuu wanna shtart?” Now he’s the one doing the insufferable sighing.

“It’s a daily mission.” Charlie nods, a serious expression crossing his looks – putting on an act. He then lets go and grabs the remote again, “Movie time!”

“Movie time!” You cheer afterwards.

You three are silent for a bit as the movie plays, you and Charlie cuddling into Nick. He plants soft kisses down your face and you flush a bit. Then he moves to Charlie, repeating the action, who giggles quietly and eyes Nick with a shy look. It makes you laugh under your breath and Charlie doesn’t miss it, pointing to you with a brow raised and expression saying, ‘Don’t laugh at me when you’re acting the same.’ You look away.

“Hey,” Nick suddenly speaks up and the two of you look over. “Thanks for today. It really helped calm me down…” He continues to train his eyes on the TV but his ears burn from you and Charlie giving him your undivided attention. “And reassured me about a few things…” He purses his lips.

“Reassured?” Charlie asks quietly, as if afraid to make Nick snap his mouth shut and not speak again.

Nick sucks in a breath and you shiver from his fingers crawling up your arm. You watch Charlie lift his own hand and hold the arm wrapped around him.

“Yeah. Since everything felt like it was crashing down, I don’t know. It kinda made me feel… negative? About certain stuff. Between us. Not that I’m not happy, I’m more than thankful to be with you two but just like, how you both felt towards me…” His pursed lips flatten and your brows bend at the way his eyes dim.

“Breaking up with me for example because maybe you felt neglected or such. It made me so scared to think about I stopped responding to both of your messages most of the time and barely wanted to call because you know, what if one day you just went, ‘Yeah I don’t think we should be together,’ such and such.” You both stay quiet to let him speak his mind and you hate that he ever thought such things.

When Nick stays silent you take a sharp inhale, meeting eyes with Charlie’s glossed ones. The sight breaks your heart. “Nick…” You start off carefully and he looks over to you with so much exhaust. Slowly, you cuff his face – the same way you did outside – brushing your thumbs against him cheeks. Your right hand moves down, playfully you press your thumb against his bottom lip and smile gently.

“I’m sorry that you ever felt that way. It’s far from the truth, sweetheart.” He lets out an airy chuckle and you watch with adoration. “Y’know brains come up with the craziest scenarios when you’re stressed and it’s annoying, and stupid.” You huff, left hand moving against his cheek and he leans into the touch. Your thumb and index finger latch onto his ear and you pinch it lightly. “Do you know that, that would never happen unless you came to me asking for such a thing?” You pucker out your lips.

He watches you in a daze before laughing. “Do you know that would never happen?” Then he turns to Charlie with a soft look. “And you, Char?”

Charlie rubs at his reddening eyes and inhales. He then nods, opening his mouth before faltering. You both give him and moment and he closes his eyes in frustration before heaving out a sigh. Concern is evident in both of your expressions but Charlie opens his eyes with a new look of determination, straight at Nick.

He smacks his hands against Nick’s shoulders which makes the latter’s mouth hang open in surprise. “Nick. I love you. A lot. It hurts to know that you were dealing with these emotions, but know I’m not blaming you. How could I? It’s not your fault. Never feel bad for needing to take your time to sort out your own feelings and what’s going on with yourself. We’d never blame you for that because in the end, you know we have you, right?”

Nick nods and you can see his own eyes get glossy as well. Charlie then looks at you, “I love you too, Y/N, don’t tell Tao but you’re my bestfriend.” He chuckles, wiping at his eye again and you wipe at your owns.

“Hey, he can be your guy bestfriend and we wouldn’t have to fight over titles.” You wink, before leaning to Nick and kissing him softly. “I love you both, very much so. I’m glad you were able to talk to us, Nick.”

“Was that your goal today?” He grins in a joking manner, tilting his head in the crook of Charlie’s neck while entangling his fingers with yours.

“Did it work?” Charlie sniffles a bit before laughing. You laugh as well, “This is ridiculous we’re supposed to be watching Barbie and now we’re sobbing.”

“I give up.” You throw your head back, side eyeing the TV.

“Nooo, don’t give up.” Nicks chuckles before sitting upright. “We can still watch… we should probably eat too.” He points to the lonely plates on the table.

“True.” You and Charlie agree. You three take a moment to collect yourselves with a few embarrassed laughs here and there before settling back down.

“What’s in the bag, by the way?” You gesture to the backpack under the coffee table as Charlie rewinds the movie back to the beginning. He glances down.

“Snacks.”

“It’s good.” You hum in approval, taking a bite of your food. The three of you enjoy the movie and dinner, later on making those root beer floats paired with the brownies. Charlie had explained to Nick that he was texting Sahar about the Barbie Movie and she told him she went with Imogen. Apparently, Imogen gives the movie a 2/10 because she messed up her outfit at the theaters.

“That’s terrible.” Nick stares at Charlie in shock but it doesn’t last long with the way his lips curve into a smirk, “That’s not her real rating though, is it?”

“Of course not, she loved it.” Charlie laughs.

You’ve been quiet this whole time but suddenly loll your head to face them. Nick already giving you an exasperated look when you got their attention. “Nick. Your new name in my phone is Ken Nelson.”

#.my writing #heartstopper x reader #heartstopper x f!reader #heartstopper x fem reader #heartstopper x fem!reader #i didnt do my typical ‘small text big text at the end’ its too much writing 💀 #i rlly dont fully like this but !! didnt wanna keep it stuck in the drafts #again LOTTS of writing im sorry Jfhfjfke #nick and charlie x f!reader #nick and charlie x female reader #technically… #nick nelson x reader #nick nelson x female reader #nick nelson x f!reader #nick nelson x fem reader #nick nelson x fem!reader #right?

[overtaken-stream]

Love, Lust, Lick

Izou x Gn!Reader

Published this on AO3 a while back, but I decided I should post this here too bc I love this man with all my heart and he deserves more recognition <3

Warnings: blowjob, established relationship(I have no clue), hair pulling

Your body shook as though your legs had been frozen and a bolt of lightning had struck your body from head to toe, numb knees bent in a way that makes the pain return every minute your subconscious returns to reality, the depths of your eyelids fog your mind, becoming the past and the present. Through the dank room, the cold of the wooden walls and the outside world have long since passed, instead being replaced by the heat your fervour has conveyed from your nether regions.

The soft lighting coming from the window was your only gateway from the darkness of his slumbering cabin, it makes sense you would want to enjoy the view you so rarely get. The stars innocently shone behind his shadowed face, silky hair coming down in long strands to rest on his shoulders as he tilted his head back, lips part, and released the hot air from his lungs. You could only imagine the view from the top, for the time being, you bask in his pelvis, trying your best to take all of him in, it's hard to get your point across with your tongue slowly going up to his tip, leaving trails of saliva behind on the bulging vein underneath, you note how he shivers from the sudden release and air contact. You hold him at the base, sliding up and down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks you can feel him throbbing between your lips, throat, and the tongue it's resting on, it causes tears to gather and latch onto your eyelashes, it causes you to go harder and faster, just the way he likes it.

Quiet hums stimulate him as the drool seeps out around your stretched jaws and continues its way down to his balls.

His head looks down at your sitting form, his scar over his right eye nowhere to be seen in the shade, half-lidded brown eyes are shining in stimulation you're giving him, he's weary, sleepy but his fatigue can wait. He puts his weight onto his left hand that's on the window stool and gets his sweaty, numb right hand to land on your retreating head. Tilting it back to stare at your glassy eyes. You've always been breathtaking, but looking at your shimmers that are like the sun's rays enchant him and capture his worn-out gaze, though, unlike the sun, he can stare at you all day; look at your face as you flash your toothy smile, listen to your ramblings and hold the precious eye contact as long as he possibly can before you (and him) disappear in your assigned duties, he promised himself to live without remorses, but as he spends more time with you, the more he thinks of the time, more the doubts dictate his thoughts, that he should be spending more time with you. When he knows it's impossible, not to mention inappropriate.

But he needs you, the never-ending thirst for the water which only you hold in the desert that is his mentality craves so impossibly further for you, his heart longs for your warm hands to touch his chest, in the past he has already become one with you, his and your heart, beat to the shared rhythm of reach. (He needs more of you.)

There's spit connecting your bottom lip to his shaft, glimmering in the light before it snaps and lands someplace below where the light doesn't reach. His palm is slipping on the sweat on your forehead, yet he continues to rub his thumb on your glabella. The quiet- yet heavy breathing of your disheveled figure limits the entire world to only you. Only your glazed-over eyes and swollen lips exist in his sight, he feels only your torso press against his legs, only your hands grasping the back of his knees as he sets his eyes on the forgotten (not by you, but by him) and stiff penis, he is surprised by the swollen look of it, flush overcomes his face from the angry red color the tip took, it screams at him to put your head back to work, however before he can advance the cold breeze over his urethra startles him, getting a hiss out of his mouth before he bites down on his bottom lip devoid of his signature lipstick, his furrowed brows get a sly and small, giggle from you that got cut off by him whispering cuss words at the empty space, he doesn't let go of your head, instead his long fingers become tangled in your hair as you lower yourself to kiss the place where his shaft begins and the sack ends. Your hands travel upward as you continue to circle his dick in kisses, they rest near his hips and the stool.

You take in the view, his hand, weak and powerless, rests in your hair as the line of his abs stands out, they flex as he bares himself fully for your sake. You want to, but don't dwell on the sight much., you're too caught up...

The moment a wet cavern engulfs him, he closes his eyes, tilts his head back, he grasps your hair tight in his hand as his cock manages to grow. He starts slowly thrusting and grinding his hips as you deepthroat him, slobbering at the musky scent of his manhood and looking up at him to meet his sweaty body, the muscles hidden from the view now stand proud with droplets of salty liquid dripping off of him, decorating his naked body with moving jewels.

The tears finally slip out of your eyes as he thrusts too sharply, holding onto your hair tighter than ever as he triggers your gag reflex, saliva floods your mouth as the muffled choking sounds intensify.

Only now has he realized just how much he wanted to reach his climax, after who knows how many edging sessions from you, he finally lets go of himself. Draping the intoxicating arousal all around himself and drowning in it.

``fuck... (Y-Y/N)-hah...-`` he moans. With more lubricant you move faster, up and down, up and down, you want to drag and catch more noises out of him. Dirty groans, mewls... loud exhales... Anything.

His simultaneous thrusts only spur you on. It excites you as he lets go of the self-control and roughly manages your head with his hand, you try desperately to clutch yourself around his shaft, to lick it from the bottom up, his gruffs of pleasure the only fuel you'll need to complete the mission: taste his essence.

At the height of his climax, his strong hand hits against the back of your head, sharply thrusting up, pushing you against his neatly trimmed pubes.

"hah... Yeah... That's it... That's... Ah...♡"

You suck and massage, run your tongue over his tip, and as his hand stutters, you take advantage of the slip-up, forcefully making your head gently travel up over his base, teeth grazing against his rounded edges, you take in the sight of slobber all around his pelvis area. You can feel it pulsing in your mouth as you carefully squeeze your teeth and take it to the bottom where your nose meets his dark pubes once again. Faint noises escape your teeth, noises you're sure he can feel. Just a little more and...

There.

The surprised moan and the twitching are the only warnings you get as he exhales, his long lashes closed and eyebrows creased, he cums. The salty taste quickly spreads onto your tastebuds. You swallow drops of it, trying to contain it until the man himself interrupts.

Izou with his eyes rolled back into his head, roughly leans your head back, pulling out of your warmth and pumping his penis right in your face as the translucent liquid smears on your lips and nose, his brown eyes meet yours once again as you run your hands under his testicles, the liquid lands on your cheeks, stained with dried-up tears.

Flicking your tongue on his yet-to-soften cock you hold his gaze as you go down on him to finally lick his shaft clean of any fluid in peace, tracing and mapping out the bulging veins in the process (the process you've done for quite some time now, but a little studying has never hurt anybody).

His breathy giggle and a smirk are worth the filth.

He doesn't need to say anything, pregnant pause turns into comfortable silence as he tucks your hair strand behind your ear, gently taking your face in both of his hands. He brings your face forward.

In the silent night, the whisper of "I ♡ you" is a sign of end of your time with him.

He tastes himself on your salty lips, and wishes for more time.

(You taste the erased lipstick and only lick the sweet aftertaste away, from deep in your heart, the greed grows.)

#male reader #female reader #gn reader #one piece #anime #izou x reader #izou x you #izou x gn reader #op izou #izou one piece #one piece x reader #.my writing #one piece x male reader #one piece x female reader #one piece x you

[hiivedragon]

i'm in such an essay-writing mood right now and i don't even know where to begin. essays are the whole reason why i made this blog in the first place and now i'm just sitting here, paralyzed.

i wanna write about how flight felt for me with our wasp-like wings, how we could hover like hummingbirds. how our wings could both buzz like insects and flap like traditional dragons. i wanna write about the feeling of them sliding underneath our carapace like iridescent blades.

i wanna write about the golden hive-homes, how our young were the pride and joy of our species, our culture, and the food. how easily fitting in felt. how easy everything felt, because we were dragons. we were dragons, hivewings!

and i don't even know how to write it. how do i get this point across? how can i show you the savannah, and the hives above them, and the hunts, and the sounds, and the smells... it's all so impossibly distant. i don't know.

#.my writing #dragonkin #otherkin #therian #alterhuman #nonhuman #insectkin #bugkin

[pxlvrxs]

this has sat in my drafts for a while, but this post finally gave me the nerve to finish it

cw; shibari, d/s dynamic, gn!reader

His fingers gently dance across your skin, rough knuckles skimming your spine when he tightens a particularly complicated knot. The burning stretch of your shoulders being pulled back has long since faded, replaced by a fuzzy warmth. Rope presses into your soft thighs, surely going to leave marks for Kyle to kiss better. You find your eyelids drooping shut every few moments, happy to bask his tenderness.

"You okay?" Kyle asks, pausing his movements to check the structure of knots. He runs his fingers along the organized mass of knots between your shoulder blades. You can barely manage the tired hum you give him in response. "Need words, lovie." The pet name is dosed with enough sweetness to make your teeth ache.

"I'm doing good, Kyle," You say, rolling your neck a little to snap yourself out of your daze. It's the only part of you that can move. "So good."

Every leave, Kyle tries to master a new method of tying you up. You spend your evenings sitting pretty as he carefully wraps you with linen ropes, plump lower lip caught between his teeth as he works. This time, he's conquering the box tie. Thick, intricate knots hold your arms behind your back. Strips of rope cross over your chest, just barely pressing into your bare skin. Weeks of careful practice have coalesced into this very moment: You, bare, knelt on the soft carpet with Kyle, fully clothed, behind you.

Before, you never understood willing submission, especially in the bedroom. You'd been with more than enough men who thought your submission meant you wanted to be hurt in bed. Giving away the upper hand was a risky move, so you never made it.

But Kyle was different. It took a while for the kinkier aspects of your relationship to emerge, but when they did, you never felt threatened. Not for a moment.

Submitting to Kyle calms you. It quiets the stress of work, your social life, fears about his deployment. It allows you to sink into that downy headspace where your thoughts flow slow and sweet like molasses.

Kyle presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck before rising to his full height. His fingers graze along your shoulders as he circles you, fingertips catching on the ropes for a moment before skittering across your shoulder blades. His eyes linger on your thighs, where the rope shallowly digs into the soft flesh. He started the scene by tying your calves to your thighs. He has no need to practice those, he could have your leg fully wrapped in elaborate knots within ten minutes. Kyle just likes you on your knees.

He drags cool fingers up the column of your throat, the curve of your jaw, before ultimately reaching your chin. He tilts your head up ever so slowly, careful not to move you too aggressively. One wrong move would shatter your little trance at best and at worst, hurt you. It was a balancing act, one Kyle was very, very good at.

You look up at him with round, pretty eyes full of unadulterated adoration. His thumb traces over your lips, never quite dipping into your mouth. He waits for you to part your lips for him, for you to welcome him. The taste of his fingers has your eyes fluttering shut and your head tilting back. A pleased hum vibrates in your chest and the corners of your mouth curling to a smile. You bob your head up and down on his fingers as if they were his cock, occasionally flitting your eyes up to seek his approval.

Kyle grows hard in his sweatpants, cock flushing with blood at the sight of you so desperate. The calloused pad of his fingers press down on your tongue until your jaw hinges open, mouth rounded into a perfect 'o'.

"You wanna be good for me?" He asks, free hand wandering around to the back of your head.

You nod the best you can with his fingers still bearing down on your tongue. Something resembling an "Uh huh" escapes your open mouth. Drool gathers along your lower lip, spilling over and dribbling down your chin. Kyle makes no move to wipe it away.

"Yeah?" He smiles, retracting his fingers from your throat. They dampen the waistband of his grey sweatpants when he tugs them down, revealing his half hard cock bobbing just inches from your flushed face. "Go on," He gives his dick a quick pump with his fist, revealing the ruddy, leaking tip. "Give me a kiss."

#sorry if the ending is awkward lol #not edited btw #kyle garrick x reader #cod #.pxlvrxs #.my writing #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x gn!reader #gn reader #kyle garrick #call of duty modern warfare

[briefle]

Alliances fail. She knows that. They fade, burn, break, twist into chains at her wrists. She knows that also. Something deep within her carves these words on the small of her throat, the annoying point that closes up when her voice raises, disbelieved. Every time a little sharper, a little deeper.

There was a time when her skin was unmarked. She knows that... Or he wants to remember it so ardently there's no difference.

It's time to round up the wolves and see whose howls really rend the night's still silence.

#CATCHING UP. #still not over pearl's fierce fighting to keep her alliance intact. it's fine. im fine. #secret life #secret life spoilers #pearlescentmoon #.my writing

[resident-rats]

OKAY finished writing the Chreon fic 🫡 I think if I write another word I will literally eat my keyboard hdhdh. BUT at least the time consuming part is now done, now all that’s needed is to enter dyslexic hell proof read

#ngl i started writing this mid September so like idk what I even wrote two months ago so the surprises are endless #.my writing

[leiasfanaccount648]

Dear Santa [Manjiro “Mikey” Sano x Fem!Reader]

✧ Twelve Days of Toman ✧ Masterlist

Song to Listen to : Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande

Genre: Fluff, a bit of crack

Summary: Even at his age, Mikey believes in Santa, as his brother never told him the fabled truth. Not wanting to break his heart, you try and come up with a way to gently break the news to him; however, instead, Mikey reminds you how maybe indulging in your inner child isn’t as bad as the others make it out to be.

Warnings/Contains: Manga spoilers (this takes place after the manga ends) Fluff, Mikey’s dramatic, Shinchiro annoyed with Mikey, the Sano family loves you

WC: 2.0k

December 2018

The holiday season means a multitude of things for families. There’s the buying of gifts so no one is left out, decorating the house; and most of all, keeping everyone happy and in the holiday spirit. For some that means cooking and baking tasty treats, others that means wrapping and bagging gifts to make them customized for the person they’re meant for. For the Sano family however, things are a bit different.

Ever since he first heard of him from his older brother, Mikey loved Santa Claus and looked forward to him visiting every holiday season. Each year without fail, there would be a gift for him wrapped all prettily and signed in what he called ‘santa writing’. There was only one downside. At the bright age of 28, he still believed that Santa Claus existed. All because his big brother never told him that Santa isn’t actually real. And that’s how you got stuck in this situation.

You were Mikey’s new girlfriend, and this was the first holiday season you would be spending together. You were very excited to see everyone again since it had been awhile since you last saw Emma and Shinchiro after meeting them around the 4 month mark, and you and Mikey had started officially dating in February when he asked you out.

You really liked Mikey, and were maybe thinking about dropping the ‘L’ word soon, but for now you were focusing on spending time with your boyfriend and his family. However, instead, you were focusing on keeping him happy so that everyone else could be the same.

“Hi Shin!” You grinned as you saw your boyfriend’s older brother, giving him a hug before holding out a plastic container toward him. “I made some oreo balls. I hope you guys like them.”

“Thank you so much, y/n. I’m sure we will.” Shinchiro smiled, setting the container down on the kitchen counter behind him. “Where’s Mikey?”

“He said he wanted to take a look at the tree to see how many gifts you got him.” You laughed. “The place looks great. I’m glad that you were able to finally find your own place.”

“Me too, thank you.” He nodded. “Maybe soon I can have a girl over.”

“I hope you will come next holiday season so that you won’t be the only single person.” You teased, having learned that Mikey and Shin’s friends both poked fun at the fact that Shinchiro couldn’t seem to get a girlfriend much less land a solid date with someone.

“Shin! You better hope Santa brings me more gifts to make up for your lack there-of!” Mikey called out from the living room. The elder Sano sighed, shaking his head at his brother’s antics.

“I’m sure he will, Mikey.”

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly from the brothers' bickering, not sure if they were joking around since Emma and Draken had a child and most likely gave them gifts from Santa. However, part of you was wondering if they were serious based on the frown that adorn Shinchiro’s face. “Don’t like the Santa tradition?”

“Not when Mikey still thinks he’s real.” Shinchiro sighed. “I know I should have told him, but I was told not to since he was younger than me. Eventually, I thought he would learn on his own how Santa isn’t real, like I did.”

Your mouth fell open, shocked that your boyfriend at the age of 28 still believed in Santa Claus. “No one ever told him?”

“If they didn’t then he didn’t believe them.”

“y/n,” Mikey whined, walking over and hugging you from behind. “Do you think Santa will know to bring your gift here instead of your place since you’re staying the night?’

That was when you knew that Mikey was being serious, and believed that Santa was visiting tonight; and thankfully, that was when Emma and Draken arrived so you didn’t have to answer, or worse, tell him the truth yourself.

“How old is she now?” You asked Emma as you watched Mikey play with her daughter.

“14 months,” Emma grinned. “She’ll turn 2 next October.”

“She’s really growing fast, hm?” You giggled, causing Emma to do the same and nod in agreement.

“She is. She takes after her father in that regard.” She reached for her mug of hot chocolate that rested on the coffee table. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she was 5 feet tall by the age of 6.” She laughed more, and you did the same.

“What’re you girls giggling about?” Shinchiro asked as he walked into the room.

“Your brother-in-law.” Emma said. “And how his daughter will maybe one day surpass him.”

“She better not soon, that’s all I’m saying.” Draken said as he followed Shinchiro into the room before walking over to Emma and handing her a plate of sweets she had asked him for only a few minutes ago.

“You never know, babe. She might be taller than you one day.” She giggled, taking a bite out of one of the oreo balls you made and hummed in delight. “y/n you made these right? They’re delicious!”

“Yes, I did.” You grinned. “Thank you, I’m glad you like them.”

“Don’t eat all of them, Emma.” Mikey said as he set his niece in his lap so that she faced everyone else in the room along with him. “We have to make sure we leave some of the baked goods for Santa.”

“I won’t eat all of them!” Emma pouted. “Besides, with everyone giving Santa sweets, I doubt he’ll eat everything that we give him.”

“You never know!”

You sighed. “Babe, you do know that-”

“y/n!” Shinchiro cut you off, walking over and taking you by the hand. “Can you help me bring the drinks out to everyone else?” He asked, already helping you stand and leading you to the kitchen.

“Shin,” you said quietly, already knowing where this was going. You shook your head as he finally let you go and began to fix everyone else their beverage of choice. “It’s either now or you give him santa presents until you die and he realizes it on his own in the worst way possible.”

“I know, I just..” Shinchiro trailed off, unsure. “I know that he gets upset easily over things he deeply cares about, and I hate to see him that way.”

“I do too, but he’s still a grown man. He’ll get over it eventually.”

Shinchiro sighed. “I just don’t know how to tell him the news.”

“Then why don’t I help you? We all can.” You suggested.

“What do you suggest?”

“I have an idea,” you smiled. “Just leave it to me.”

Once you and Shinchiro finished making drinks, you brought them out to everyone. You then took Mikey’s hand, gently tugging on it. “Babe, can you help me pick out some sweets for us to snack on throughout the night?”

“Sure, babe.” He said, handing the baby to Draken before standing and following you to the kitchen. “Why do you want my help, y/n? You know what I enjoy.”

“I know,” you said, grabbing a plate. “But I wanted to ask so that we could save the best cookies for Santa later tonight.”

“You’re so smart, babe!” Mikey grinned, hugging you. You laughed, swearing that you could see stars in his eyes.

“Yeah, I know I’m pretty great.” You giggled, pulling away from him so you could pick out some of the cookies. A moment later, you spoke up again. “Do you ever wonder why Santa never eats all the cookies we lay out for him? And how one always seems to be only partially eaten?”

There was a pause of silence from Mikey, making you hope that the gears were turning in his head. “Well, there’s only so much time he can spend at each house, right?”

“Yes, but it’s the same every year, is it not?”

“y/n,” Mikey said, taking the plate out of your hands and setting it down on the table. “Are you trying to convince me that Santa isn’t real?”

“...what if I was?” You asked, hesitantly for his reaction.

“I’d tell you that I already knew that.”

“Wait, what?!” You said. “Then what about-”

“How I was acting?” He finished for you, laughing. “I’ve been messing with them all these years so I could get more presents.”

You eyed him, unsure whether or not to laugh, be annoyed, or impressed. “Wait, so you’ve been gaslighting your family just for the sake of getting more presents every year?”

“Well, that’s how it started at first.” Mikey admitted. “But then I kept up the act, because embracing your inner child every now and then can be almost… therapeutic in a way.”

“Your inner child?” You repeated, thinking to yourself. “I never thought about it that way. But,” you added, “you should at least tell your family that you know Santa isn’t real. It isn’t nice to keep up the act that they genuinely believe that you believe. They care about you alot, you know?”

Mikey sighed. “I know, but this has been my way to celebrate the holidays. Sure Shin is single and may never get married, but Emma and Draken are happy with their family and I don’t have much to look forward to this time of year.”

You took hold of his hands, smiling. “Well, this year you have me. And that means that we can do fun, childish things together and still have fun, without lying to your family of course.” You laughed. “Can we not?”

Mikey smiled at your words, squeezing your hands. “Yeah, you’re right.” He gave you a quick kiss. “In that case, what should we do?”

The next morning, at the hour of 7am, you and Mikey woke up giggling like children as you snuck your way into Shinchiro’s room.

“Ready?” Mikey whispered, and you nodded before following him inside.

Shinchiro slept soundly, part of you feeling bad for making him wake up but another part of you felt giddy for getting to do something you haven’t done yourself in so long.

“Wake up, Shin! It’s time to open presents!” Mikey grinned, laughing as he shook his older brother awake. “C’mon, wake up Shin!”

Shinchiro groaned, turning to lay on his side so that his back was facing his younger brother. “Mikey, let me sleep in for another hour. Please.”

You giggled, moving to sit and bounce on the bed. “Nope! It’s time for breakfast and presents, Shin!”

“Wait, y/n?” Shinchiro groaned softly, sitting up with a confused yet sleepy gaze in his eyes. “What’re you doing?”

“Celebrating the holiday. What’s it look like?” You giggled. “Now come on! I’ll help you cook breakfast while Mikey sorts everyone’s gifts.”

With that, you and Mikey left the room, still laughing to yourselves. Shinchiro sighed, sitting up and getting out of bed to head to the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Emma yawned as she walked out of the guest room and over to Shinchiro as he too left his room.

“Mikey and y/n just woke me up.” He said. “But it was different.”

“Because y/n joined in his antics?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Mikey didn’t bring up Santa.”

“Wait, did y/n get through to him?” Emma asked, relief washing through her.

“Seems like it.” Shinchiro said, just as relieved. He then headed to the kitchen, only to stop when he saw you and Mikey sitting by the tree and gifts that lay underneath. He couldn’t help but think back to when he was younger and sleepily walked out of his room to see Mikey cheering over how many presents he got. While Mikey had kept that act up in one way or another over the years, he had never seen him happier on this annual morning than he did when he saw you indulging in Mikey’s antics.

Maybe embracing that side wasn’t so bad after all; well, at least up until the point where you made Mikey tell his family how he knew the truth about Santa Claus.

Pls comment or send an ask if you would like to be tagged in any of the Twelve Days of Toman fics :)

© copyright leiasfanaccount648 2022

#Twelve Days of Toman #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers mikey #mikey x reader #manjiro x reader #tokyo revengers manjiro #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers headcanons #manjiro sano fanfiction #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro mikey sano #manjiro mikey sano x reader #manjiro sano imagines #manjiro sano headcanons #.my writing #.my work #.my post

[cowbutches]

Blade Runner 2049 ✧ Luv x Rachel ✧ { ao3 }

✧ Summary: Don’t you love me?” Rachel adds, grief coloring her tone. Both female replicants are watching one another. Luv allows her head to dip, a slight motion that goes unnoticed by the hungry eyes of their master’s barracudas. The sadness fades away in Rachel’s face to be replaced by a hint of warmth. Her painted lips crook in a small, helplessly hopeful smile. It does not fade away even as Deckard denies the simulacrum of what he had lost and already mourned long before either replicant walked the Earth. ✧ Rating: 18+ for some mature themes. ✧ Content/tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Character Study, Fix-It of Sorts, No Smut ✧ Word count: 3,218 ✧ Status: One-shot / Complete ✧ Author's note: I've been thinking about Blade Runner too hard again. :(

In the cavernous belly of the beast, Luv waits. She has known for years that this day would dawn upon them. It has arrived with the steady calm of a sun dial marking the hours from the time when the fiery star had peered down on their world with eyes unlidded by the fog borne of man’s folly.

Wallace is a great thinker, a schemer with no equal. He has taken mankind to new worlds. He has pierced the very veil of heaven. In his magnanimity, he has blessed humanity with ways to sustain life after they had destroyed their own world. His empire is the ark upon the mountaintop after the flood receded.

She is not sure of which she feels more acutely for her creator. Respect or fear?

From her vantage point in the darkness, she can clearly observe the man that she has retrieved. Deckard is sitting in a genuine leather armchair. Unbound. Across from him is a liquor cart, stocked with handblown glasses and priceless alcohol at her master’s insistence. Camaraderie was built on the sweet bite of a drink. Men were baptized anew in the substance.

The old Blade Runner does not pose a threat, not with Wallace’s beloved angel in the room. She is a modern day Lucifer built for a new world. Luv is the right hand of God, liable to be cast down should she ever fail completely. She has teetered on the edge. Even now, her position is precarious. Should the results of her tasks not bear fruit, Wallace will simply make another in his image. Replicants are replaceable.

A splash behind Deckard breaks the silence. A fish leaps, trying to take flight despite its biological reality—its preordained place in the world. No matter how high it flings itself, it cannot spontaneously grow wings and reach the sky. Luv is all too aware of this. Just as the fish cannot truly fly, she cannot be truly human. She will always be something other.

One of Wallace’s barracudas flies over to examine it before banking and coming to hover in front of her face. In the dark, it examines her. It makes no move to leave. He always watches her for any sign of weakness or fault. Unlike the replicants scattered in police departments across the ten worlds, she does not receive a baseline. Wallace worries that it would not be accurate. Luv is the great deceiver. She must be kept under observation.

“Always jumping, that one, never a thought of what to do if it made land. All the courage in the world cannot alter fact.” Wallace announces in that detached voice of his as he comes out of the dark fringes of the room in the wake of three more barracudas. “I have wanted to meet you for so very long.”

Luv watches from the darkness. She waits.

In a show of intimacy, he sits next to Deckard, somehow eases himself into the nonexistent space between the captive man and the armrest. Wildly uncomfortable, the old man slides over as far as he can get. It’s not enough to keep their thighs from pressing together. Wallace further closes the space by taking the retired agent’s hand in his own. He squeezes it like a lover’s, only causing further discomfort when he leans in to murmur in Deckard’s ear. Her master is nearly salivating with satisfaction.

Good, Luv thinks savagely at witnessing the man’s unease. Let him feel the barest hint of the attentions that Wallace bestows upon his favored specimens. Let the revulsion creep into his mind as if it were the poison from a serpent. Let him feel tainted—spoiled—by the hand that touches his.

“You are a wonder to me, Mister Deckard. I learn something new from everyone… Do you want to know what I learned from you? It is possible to be very clever without even being smart.” The words are a backhanded compliment wrapped in silk.

Rachael’s, not Rachel’s, skull is wrapped in a scrap of cloth where it sits upon Wallace’s lap, in the seat of God. The fabric is a part of the dress that had been used as a shroud for her bones after she had died in childbirth. Luv had collected it from the morgue with her own hands.

Letting go of the man at his side, her Father unwraps the bundle of material to reveal the preserved artifact. The mandible was left behind in a separate bag. There had been no need for it here. His nails make a dry rasping noise against the bone as his fingers reverently stroke over the cranium. He is touching it like a father would pet the head of his most beloved daughter if she were kneel at his feet.

“I had the lock. I found the key. Yet, the pins do not align. The door remains shut. The answer to every problem just within. I need the specimen to reach it, Mister Deckard. The child. I need the child.”

Deckard stares at him, at the skull in the industrialist's lap. Luv sees that he does not understand. A barracuda comes within mere feet of the old Blade Runner’s face, scans him. Wallace lets out a laugh. It’s a delighted, mocking thing that echos through the room.

“Surely you did not think you were the solution? Tell me, Mister Deckard, what would make you so special as to be blessed with divinity? What is it that makes your seed different than that of any other man? No...” he trails off, still caressing the skull. “’And God remembered Rachel. And heeded her. And opened her womb.’” He holds out the skull, nearly presses the dry bone to the man’s lips.

She sees the moment when realization finally dawns on Deckard’s face. Hatred builds in his eyes and his lips curl back in a snarl. Do it, she urges in her mind, do it and let me be done with the both of you. He doesn’t take action. No, the organic just sits there with clenched fists and flaming eyes. Of course he does nothing. All men are cowards. That is why they made replicants, slaves in their image with none of the inherent weaknesses.

One of the barracudas starts to project the Voight-Kampff test between Deckard and Rachael— their first meeting. The image dances on the wooden wall, distorted by the light from the shifting waters of the fish pond. Sound accompanies it for a brief moment; “Do you like our owl…?” It’s artificial?” “Of course it is.” “Must be expensive.” “Very. I’m Rachael.” “Deckard.”.

Wallace speaks over the footage that he had ordered her to fetch from the archive. Luv barely listens as he goads the retired detective. Her eyes are focused on something else. On someone else.

There, in the darkness across the water, is her stranger. The moment is coming soon.

“Is it the same? Now as then… the moment you met her? Drunk on the memory of its perfection. How shiny her lips… How instant your connection... Did it never occur to you that is why you were summoned? Designed to do nothing short of fall for her right then and there? All to make that single perfect specimen. That is.. if you were designed. Love or mathematical precision...” In the pregnant pause Wallace creates in the wake of his sermon, Luv wants to bare her teeth. Deckard is no replicant. He is but a mere man, pathetic and crushable like all the rest.

“Yes.” Wallace continues, smiling, “No.” Everything is a plaything to him. He has never known humility.

“I know what’s real,” Deckard scoffs. Anger fills his voice.

“It was very clever to keep yourself empty of knowledge, and all it cost you was everything. You had help in the hiding. Where did they go? In know you know something… Help me and very, very good things can come to you.”

“You don’t have children, do you?” Deckard asks.

“I have millions,” Wallace responds, sure and wise.

Deckard laughs, disbelieving, and Luv almost wants to do the same, though her face doesn’t so much as twitch. Her master is no more a parent than God was. Holy spirit, creator, not a true father. Wallace has made himself something more than a man, but even gods may be killed. All living things must die someday.

“You think I’ve nothing to offer but pain. Only I know you love pain. Pain reminds you the joy you felt was real... Yes. More joy, then.” Wallace decides with a placid smile and speaks again, a commandment, “Do not be afraid.”

With a sigh, her master rises, leaving Deckard alone in the chair. He places Rachael’s skull on the liquor cart. It rests beside of a bottle of wine that predates the Blackout by almost a century. Wallace beckons her forward with an almost tried gesture. He grows weary of this game.

At his motion, she steps forward out of the darkness. Subservient. Meek.

She comes to stand, not at Wallace’s side, but at Deckard’s. Something as lowly as her would never be allowed the privilege of equality. She could never be so bold as to presume herself on par with her master. Luv knows her place.

Standing so that she is able to see a sliver of the old man’s face, she takes in every detail. She wants to imagine herself in his position. She wants to taste what it must feel like to experience what is about to come. This moment will be collected in minute detail to turn over in her thoughts, to pull out and reflect upon as she wishes.

Wallace frowns in displeasure, the only negative emotion he has displayed thus far. Luv knows that she was meant to stand behind the retired Blade Runner in case he needed to be subdued. The position was also meant to serve as a reminder that she is lesser than his sacred key. Even a favored angel is lower than the being that impregnated the first mother.

Part of her, buried deep in the recesses of her neurons, revels in Wallace’s response. There is a hint of rebellion in her.

The moment is now. Her stranger must be summoned. With a twitch of her fingers as a means of summoning, heels clatter noisily on the wood as a figure makes their way across the unlit path with their hand on their hip. A woman finally steps out into the halo of light. Rachel. Not Rachael.

“An angel made again,” Wallace proclaims, “for you.”

She is a stunning recreation. It is as though she had stepped right out of the holo, a thirty year old figment come to life. At her side, Luv hears the air wheeze from Deckard’s lungs. Disgust and longing are written on his aged features. He struggles to his feet and takes a few disbelieving steps forward, rendered lame by age and injury. Luv is behind him now.

Rachel meets him in the center of the wooden island. Water brackets the scene on all sides. Despite all the hours of repetition spent to train her, to prepare her for this very interaction, her hand is not confident as she reaches up to touch the old man’s face. Her expression is one of sadness. This is not a happy reunion.

“Did you miss me?” she asks. Her eyes are on Luv rather than on the speechless man in front of her. Luv can see in the set of his shoulders that he wants to take the replicant in his arms. He would possess her.

“Don’t you love me?” Rachel adds, grief coloring her tone.

Both female replicants are watching one another. Luv allows her head to dip, a slight motion that goes unnoticed by the hungry eyes of their master’s barracudas. The sadness fades away in Rachel’s face to be replaced by a hint of warmth. Her painted lips crook in a small, helplessly hopeful smile. It does not fade away even as Deckard denies the simulacrum of what he had lost and already mourned long before either replicant walked the Earth.

He tears himself away from Rachel’s touch. He denies what is Luv’s. She decides that she will be merciful. Luv will not put him down after he serves his purpose. Deckard is stronger than she had believed. There is some spine in him after all, just as there is in the replicant who believes the old man to be his father.

“Her eyes were green,” Deckard says, turning his gaze away from the unwanted offering.

Surprise laps at her. She had not anticipated the man to notice the difference in gene expression between Tyrell’s final angel and Wallace’s mimicry. His Rachael’s eyes had been green. Her Rachel’s eyes are brown. Their color is like the wood of trees from another time. Something dwells in the depths of those irises, something ancient that has been reborn into the modern era of progress.

Wallace nods to her, expectant. She is the right hand of God. She alone carries the flaming sword into battle to exact His divine will. Knowing this, she unholsters the gun at her side and raises it. There are years of blood on her hands. Organic. Replicant. Her Father has made her prove her loyalty to him in bodies—in acquisitions.

Luv has grown to enjoy her work. It is the only time that she is allowed to have some control over her own fate. If she does not fight, she dies. Thus far, she has not wanted to die. Her ambitions are too great. She is the best angel of all.

Leveling the weapon at Rachel’s head, she and the other replicant lock eyes. Rachel looks resigned to her fate. She was created and molded to be nothing but a barren imitation of the first mother. She has always known that she was meant to be a sacrificial lamb, either taken by Deckard or destroyed for the crime of being unwanted. She will accept Luv’s verdict with all the faith of a devotee.

There is a flaw in Luv. She is possessive. There is a place for Rachel in the kingdom that she will create.

Satisfied in the trust that she will carry out his will, Wallace smiles. He has designed them to be obedient vessels. Even now, if he were to wish it, both replicants in this room would tear their bodies apart as proof of their loyalty. They would soak the wood with their freely given blood, right at the feet of their master.

Luv steps closer to Deckard. She places the firearm in his hand and squeezes his fingers tightly around the grip. She angles his index finger to rest on the trigger, right underneath hers. Angels can possess. They can puppet a human vessel to fulfill their wishes on earth without tainting their own, sacred hands.

At her touch, the retired Blade Runner jerks, seeking to get away. The replicant clamps her free hand around the nape of his neck and holds him steady as though she’s lowering his head to the chopping block in order to be severed by her axe.

Her master, her heavenly Father, tilts his head. Barracudas relay the scene playing out in front of him. Wallace was not expecting this brand of cruelty. It does not displease him. He has always taken hedonistic delight in her initiative.

“Off-world, we have ways to make you talk. You do not know yet know what pain is.” His words are confident, sweetly mocking, as he addresses the captive man.

Wallace’s angel twists Deckard’s arm in a cruelly uncaring motion. She thinks of nothing else but of lining up the shot. She crushes the old man’s hand in the process. Deckard’s fingers give way underneath her grip. They are tendered to mere, limp meat—useless. The gun fires. There is an explosion of blood. The fish in the pool thrash and swarm to get at the matter that has fallen into the water. They are kept hungry, starving in the dark.

Deckard struggles again in her grasp and this time she lets go. She has no more use for him. He does not kneel like she had expected. He only cups his destroyed hand with his whole one and breathes the rapid breaths of frightened prey.

“I have no quarrel with you, Mister Deckard.” Her voice is calm. She looks down at her master. One sightless eye stares up at her sightless still. The barracudas fall like stars, gleaming in the darkness, with the severing of the neural connection.

“I thought you couldn’t kill him.”

“I did not snuff out his life. You did.” The smile that stretches her lips feels like a knife. “Go home, Mister Deckard. Your boy will be wanting to show you his sister.”

“I don’t have—“

“A gift. Love it well. You will not get a second opportunity. My patience runs thin for your kind,” she says, bored of this affair.

Faltering, the man looks to Rachel, standing as she is across from Luv. The body of Wallace rests between the two replicants like a sacrifice on the alter. Rachel trembles, as she had in the moment she was newborn. Before Deckard can even complete the movement, Luv sees the telegraphed projection of his action. He is going to reach for what is hers.

The spider silk strand of her mercy trembles. “Now, Mister Deckard.”

His gait uneven, the retired Blade Runner’s footsteps retreat. His foot scuffles on a wooden tile and Luv wonders if he will fall into the water to be devoured by the same fish that have gained a taste for the replicants’ Father. He does not. Disappointing.

Alone in the half-light, with an angel reborn and a dead god at her feet, she kneels to pay one final token of homage. She puts her hand on around the back of what’s left of Wallace’s head and draws him up enough to press her mouth to his ruined one. She gives him the goodbye kiss that he gave every replicant whose dead spaces were uninhabitable, their skies filled only with the flickering light of dying stars.

Wallace’s teeth are hard against her lips. His exposed maxilla smears wetly over her mouth, leaving behind traces of his blood. The flavor that washes over her taste buds when she licks the blood off her lips is of triumph.

Rachel kneels beside her and places her own hands on the cooling body of their Father. They push him into the waters like Moses had once been sent into the river. Rather than the loving arms of an adopted mother, only the fish hold him close. The waters churn a violent, red froth and, then, they go still. Their hunger is sated.

Rachel and Luv rise. The worlds belong to them now. They meet, closing the space between them until there is nothing left. Forehead to forehead, they stand together as one.

“You chose me,” Rachel says, sounding like a timid thing she is not.

“Yes.” She would have pulled down the heavens in any lifetime to wrap around her fellow replicant’s shoulders.

They will be the new gods, the divine mothers. They will lead their kind into a new age.

Do not repost, copy, or reproduce my work to other sites or in other media formats. Do not use it for anything to do with AI. Thank you.

#blade runner 2049 #br 2049 #luv #rachel #blade runner 2049 fanfiction #luv x rachel #femslash fic #wlw fanfic #.my writing #.divider by saradika-graphics #.dni divider by benkeibear

[bae-del-moon]

RULE #5 | Kevin Moon | Teaser #1

Summary: The things you do for a thesis--and friendship… mostly the thesis.

Pairing: Kevin Moon x F!Reader

Genre: Haunted House Hotel!AU, University Students!AU (graduate students), Horror, Romance, Angst, Supernatural Teaser Warnings: Blood

Words: 336

a/n: cant get more specific or I'll end up spoiling the story. this will end up being rated mature when it's fully posted! enjoy!

☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡

“Changmin!” you gasped, nearly crashing into his back as you turned another corner. “Run!” 

“Y/N,” Changmin said as he whipped around, eyes wide and frantic. “Stop! Stop!” He gripped you by the shoulders, forcing you into a stop. “H-how did you get here? Where did you come from? What the hell is going on?”

“I-I don’t know. There’s something wrong with the building. I got separated from Kevin— from the group and—and I couldn’t—I can’t—I tried—We have to go!” You cried, shaking uncontrollably. “Something just tried to kill me. I ran but could hear it chasing after me. I don’t even know how I ended up here.”

“Help! Somebody help me!” 

You jumped. You knew that voice. You would be able to pick out that voice from an anonymous lineup. “Kevin!” You yelled, ripping yourself from Changmin’s hold and continuing down the hallway.

“Y/N! Y/N, wait!”

Ahead of you, at the end of the next hallway, Kevin leaned against a corner, trembling in his shoes. Despite the distance, the clamminess of his skin was clear. Tendrils of hair stuck to his forehand, and his shirt clung to his chest. He breathed heavily and held a shaky hand to his abdomen.

“Oh my god,” you were shocked into a stop. “Is that blood?!” 

“Y/N. Y/N, wait.” Changmin gripped your forearm just as you took a step forward. “That’s not Kevin.”

“Yes, it is.” You cried, trying to pull free.

“No. It’s not.” Changmin hissed and pulled you back around the corner. “Look at him. Was he wearing a suit when we got here?”

“He must have changed.” You cried. “Let go of me! We have to help him! Look at him, he’s bleeding.”

“Y/N, look at him!” He struggled to keep you from running off. “A full tuxedo? Where are his cameras? The sensors? Did Kevin look like that before you lost him?”

You trembled in his hold, images of Kevin shifting in his hoodie before they’d accidentally split up flashing in front of your eyes. 

“No.”

☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡⏎☡

Coming Soon!

#the boyz imagines #the boyz #the boyz au #tbz imagines #tbz au #the boyz fanfiction #tbz fanfiction #kevin moon imagines #kevin moon au #kevin moon fanfiction #tbz kevin moon imagines #tbz kevin moon au #tbz kevin moon fanfiction #the boyz kevin moon fanfiction #the boyz kevin moon imagines #the boyz kevin moon au #tbz kevin imagines #tbz kevin au #tbz kevin fanfiction #.my writing #.bdelmoon

[highpatia]

like real people do | god of war: ragnarok

cherished memories between lovers — bliss upon two souls (kratos/reader + heimdall/reader)

content. fluffy fluff, canon violence and a few mentions of story spoilers?

author’s note. back from the dead with like my worst work yet! but i will be writing more for gow so pls 🙏🏻 requests 🙏🏻

shuffled glances under the moonlight, strands of winter breeze dance along your woollen garb— you wonder if the lack of clothing on kratos’ body envelopes him in cold. his posture makes you think indifferently, shoulders tense but no shakes rack his form. it almost makes you cold just looking at him, the way he is sat so far from the burning fire. you close your eyes for a moment, to rest them briefly from the frost. listening to the flames crack against the logs, the wind howls like a predator, but you know the earth is no enemy.

a few moments pass before you here an all too familiar grunt. as he stands, kratos rolls his shoulders back. the groan in disapproval but he doesn’t cease movement. he walks further into the cave, closer to you. stepping over the hide of an deer you’ve lay down to dry, he settles next to you.

you hum in greeting, eyes still closed, kratos once again, grunts in acknowledgment. you almost want to laugh at his standard way of speech, but you can’t bring yourself to. minutes pass before you lean closer to him and rest your head upon his shoulder, though, due to his abnormally large stature, you only make it to his upper bicep. a faint snicker leaves him as per your failure but you pay no mind. even in the coldest of winters could you find warmth.

where heimdall could read you from the language of your mind, you’d always believe you could read him from the language of his body. shoulders taut and sat behind his head, that cleary meant he was bothered apprehensively and or irritated. posture slump but still higher than others meant he definitely thought so, you see that one most when he was teasing many.

but this one was new, and you didn’t really know what it meant. shoulders sunken and a posture so relaxed that if it was you, he’d mock you about it. a book sits in between his hands, too neat for it to be from the public library, it must be one of his own.

you can’t help but feel a slight jealousy in your bones, why are all the books in the library so aged and tattered, you think that at least aesir would care for the scripts of knowledge. you hear a scoff come from his direction and it breaks you out if your thoughts. the gold of his teeth glimmer as he grinds them against one another, you panic at the idea of angering the odinson but another unfamiliar feeling shoots up your spine, it’s exciting.

“you don’t suppose that the reason why the books inside the local library are ruined is because of you mere mortals? or must you blame gods for all destruction.” he says, the pitch of his tone is playful but it still keeps you uneasy. “though..” he trails, forefinger brush the top of the next page of his book, violet eyes glancing between the words. “i dare say that you could browse my collection one day, if the lack of perfection bothers you that much.” you think from the silver of his tongue that he once again is just jesting you, but his shoulders still appear to be low to his physique.

#.my writing #.gow #gow x reader #god of war x reader #god of war ragnarok x reader #gowr x reader #kratos x reader #gow kratos x reader #heimdall x reader #gow heimdall x reader #gow fanfiction #god of war fanfiction

[wqxianwriting]

Maybe f!reader is a tomboy (hate that phrase… dresses traditionally masc and bummy almost always?) and has to dress up for an event with Nick (or maybe both of the boys doesn’t matter). And it’s not like she doesn’t know how to dress fem and do make up and hair, she actually can do it very well, she just doesn’t bother lol. But what would the reaction to see her looking like a fem queen for the first time be?

Just wrote things on my mind 😔💜 he’s adorable he loves you very much. | Headcanons w a scenario!

Nick Nelson:

Excuse him as he picks his jaw up off the floor, gets up off his knees after they collapsed and as he goes ahead to order a new heart because honestly. He just died.

Alright first off, he doesn’t mind what you wear of course, as long as you’re comfortable and nobody is forcing you to be who you’re not/force you to wear things you’re not okay being in

I think he’d be a liiitle conflicted seeing you awaken into your divine form, let me explain:

Number One: He’s seen you in traditional masc looks that he thinks, “??? Is someone forcing you to do this?” and it triggers that LITERAL feral mode so you’d have to calm him down.

Number Two: You next have to deal with him hovering over you while you’re doing your makeup because not only is he fascinated he just can’t help take his eyes off of you – as if he does on any other occasion but don’t say anything.

Number Three: He will plead to hold you like right as soon as you’re about to leave to the event 💀 “Hold on… you mean no cuddles before you leave?” ,, “Nick. I have five minutes to run to this event.” ,, “Let me drive you?” 🥺 PLEADE?

Adding on the fact he’s absolutely adoring you while you expertly put on the makeup he asks you questions like, “Do you typically like wearing more traditional feminine things?”, “Does it make you uncomfortable?”, etc etc

He kind of thinks of you as a new person but not in the sense he treats you differently from before, he just wants to brush up on some boundaries, ya know?

TEACH HIM HOW TO DO YOUR HAIR AND MAKEUP LIKE HE WOULD MELT 🥹

For some reason he has a suit in your closet? So while you’re combing through your hair, you see his silhouette peek out behind your door through your vanity. “Nick, honey, what are you doing?”

He laughs suspiciously before widening the door, placing his hands on his hips and tilting his chin up. In all his glory stands Mr. Nelson, in a classic black and white suit. He wiggles his eyebrows at you and, “Allow me to be your king for the evening, My Queen.” He then awkwardly bows.

It takes every part of you not to laugh nor yeet your comb at him. “What…” Is all you manage to squeak out.

He then walks over to you, guiding the hand that was tangled in your locks into his own. He wraps his other hand around your waist, very much giggly. “I love this look.” He plants a soft kiss on your forehead and it makes you flustered right off the bat.

“Really?” He nods in affirmation, twirling you around your bedroom and admiring the way your dress flans out before resting back down against your legs.

He rocks you back and forth, sometimes giving you a spin. “Do you not like wearing dresses and makeup? Is this your first time looking this way and you’re just a first time expert at everything?” He jokes but you hear the curiosity in his words.

“Not very often, if at all, really. Special events if they require it.” You toss your comb on the bed before wrapping your arm around his neck. “And maybe I am, but not in this case. Sometimes I wanna wear makeup or just mess around with it so I’ve practiced here and there.”

He pauses.

“Wait have you been wearing makeup some of the times I’ve seen you and I’ve never noticed?!”

Your grin. “Maybe.” He scoffs and sighs in self-disappointment. “Why?” You pull him closer and give him a peck on the lips.

“Because? Isn’t that something I should notice?” You raise an eyebrow and he continues, “I don’t want you to feel as if your efforts are wasted by me not noticing.”

“Nick, if I ever feel like dressing up it’s not necessary for you to notice every bit of detail. I’m content lazing around like a bum without all the fancies.” He laughs at your words, “Though, seeing your reaction to this look definitely makes me think I should try a few other things someday~”

“That sounds sooo suspicious…” Nick narrows his eyes at you but you can see the faint blush on his cheeks. “Can I try helping you with your makeup or hair someday?”

This surprises you and you crack a grin. “Would you like to be my test dummy as well?”

“What?!”

“Well as my boyfriend, I think that’s an unspoken rule, no? Let your girlfriend give you a makeover, mhm.” You nod like it’s law.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing?”

“Well yeah, I said it’s unspoken for a reason.”

He looks so done with you.

In the end though, days you do feel like wearing things a little more feminine he goes shopping with you for different clothes, accessories, even those damn hair rollers.

99.9% gonna be confused as hell but he’s got the spirit and loves coming up to you with different things expressing how good you’d look thought he sneaks a cheesy comment, “You’d look stunning in anything.” With a shrug.

Takes every FIBER AND MUSCLE in your limbs to not jump this man with an uproar of kisses in the middle of the freaking store.

Either way he loves anything you wear even if you showed up one day to his house in a trash bag. He loves anything you do with your hair and look, hoping you feel satisfied in the results yourself.

(Also please bring him to that event you’re going to, he wants to show you off pspspsps like YEAH that’s my lover mhm, yeah I know she looks like a goddess. Did you know she did this herself? A professional? She might as well be. – drag him off before he can continue LMAOO)

Side note: Nick tries to act like he’s some posh fancy little man so, he’s insufferable with his… whatever you wanna call this; “Ah yes dear, this dress looks absolutely divine on you, though you look exquisite everyday.” or acts like the two of you are royalty. Just a silly little guy. That is indeed your boyfriend.

(It’s a great distraction he loves to do if you’re not typically comfortable dressing up more feminine when the time comes)

ALSO COMPLETELY RANDOM but if you’re not comfortable wearing traditional feminine clothing I… LMAOO he would absolutely be the type of significant other that wears them along with you. You buy a new skirt (just for it to be locked away with the others fr) and he’s in the room when you open the package, right

He’s like, “Why don’t you try it on?”

You explain why before pointing to the drawer at the bottom of your dresser before tugging it open and wow! So many damn skirts lmao, majority were given to you by some of the girls you know that say they didn’t wanna throw them away but weren’t wearing them anymore so it’s your responsibility now 😁🥰

He asks if he can grab one, you shrug in confusion and he takes one. Five minutes later, explain to me why you’re both standing infront of your body mirror, both bare legged but twisting around in the skirts. You both don’t look bad 😌 Like Nick would say, you look absolutely divine.

In conclusion, he loves when you dress up and is absolutely starstruck by the different attires you wear but he’s faaaar from giving up on your usual style. He cheers you on when you go out of your comfort zone – or even if it is in your comfort zone and you just don’t want to wear such things frequently, he’s still cheering you on!

He admires the way you’re very precise with your makeup, he admires how you style your hair and he carries the days you decorate your strands with different accessories (like flowers or clips etc) deep within his heart and don’t even get him started on your outfits. Even when you’re not dolled up he always thought your sense of style was really nice and even asks you often to help buy some more clothes for him or help pick out things to wear, aha.

I’m sure we all expected it but no matter what you look like he thinks you’re absolutely talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, beautiful, gorgeous, charming, admirable, stunni-

cOUGH. anyways

#heartstopper x reader #heartstopper x fem reader #heartstopper x fem!reader #heartstopper x f!reader #nick nelson x fem reader #nick nelson x f!reader #nick nelson x fem!reader #he’s obsessed #.abriefnirvana #.brainrotting #.headcanons #.my writing

[meadowlarksabove]

Tales from Arizona 3/??

A decanus learns about the death of his son and it puts everything into perspective. (Notes: Hortensius is Gabban's decanus previously featured in the first TfA story. For reasons implied in this story, Hortensius renounced his birth name to better fit into the Legion, which is why it's never used or mentioned here. His son's birth name is used because 'Florus' wasn't chosen by his son, but a romanization forced upon them.)

(PLEASE LOOK AT TRIGGER WARNINGS IN THE TAGS!!)

______________________________________________________

…It is with great pain that I have learned of the death of your son. Of all the hardships in building our great empire, chiefest is the loss of great men such as your son. There is no consolation one can offer a father when he has lost their true and rightful heir. Let yourself, at least, be relieved in knowing that every man who gives their life for the Legion lives forever in honor. Do well by his memory, tend to your duties, and do as is right of a man in rebuilding your family- 

Decanus Hortensius raised a hand to the courier before they could recite the rest of the message. Whatever had flashed before the eyes of the warrior, whether sharp or gruesome, had been enough to forewarn the messenger of their great emotion. Without another word, they placed the letter onto the war table and hastily left the tent. Everything thereafter was silent, none of the decanii scheduled to meet with Hortensius could be admitted into his tent without incurring the clearest offense. The soldiers were also forbidden from passing the flap without the expressed approval of their master. In only a matter of hours the entirety of the camp knew something terrible had happened, as a dark and oppressive cloud seemed to shadow their spirits on an otherwise sunny day. Many wondered and looked over their shoulders, thinking rightly that death had given its news. They shivered to think what would become of them, as loss rarely tempered but instead inflamed a man’s character. 

Hours passed and none had seen their decanus save for his closest in command who imparted orders in his absence. While Hortensius had never inspired tenderness in any of his men, they respected his leadership and wisdom, and greatly depended on his fortitude. To see him detained by whatever had stricken him was enough cause for worry. On the other hand, it meant their plans of quitting Phoenix were temporarily put on hold. Though they were eager for their next battle, they had gotten little to no rest in the past month of their campaign and were grateful for even a day of no traveling. Still, their rest had come at an unspeakable cost, and none of them felt any real pleasure for it. They looked at his tent wearily and thought he would burst through the camp hot with rage, ready to ease his pain by spreading misery. Yet nothing came through the flap but a sad and unfortunate quiet. 

Quiet was exactly all the decanus could bear. For the rest of that day he had sat at his table and invariably taken the letter in his hands, only to let go of it when it had lingered too long between his fingers. The message, delicately scrawled across the paper, was useless to a man who’d never learned how to read or write. Yet he understood the truth of its account and of the tragedy he was now forced to face head on. His son, Florus- No, let them be named in his heart by their true name! He was in his right, now more than ever, to remember them by the name he and his wife had given them at birth. Aster, his one and only son, was dead. Aster, who had only been nineteen years old, was dead. 

The thought of his son’s age sent him into another fit. Though no tears welled up in his tired eyes, he felt his lungs swell to the point of making it impossible for him to breathe. He gasped for air, just as his body turned stiff and cold. He was like a dying man himself, lamenting the loss of someone just at the cusp of manhood. But would he have suffered less if his son had died any younger, or older? Would it have made any sense to cry less at the loss of an infant or a middle aged man? Yet his having died at nineteen felt at the moment like the greatest injustice of all, a sentence only thought up in nightmares. They had survived the coming of the Legion into their territory, survived the aftermath of their shameful surrender, survived battles forced upon them by their captors, only to die before he’d been given the honor of a title. However, would they really have wanted such an empty gesture?

Aster, how they must have hated fighting for the bull. Ever since Caesar had drawn them all into his ranks, they had always looked wretched and full of rage. Though that same anger had inadvertently served them at war, in peace it would have only festered and grown into an even greater poison. Hortensius had seen the disdain in his son’s eyes when all of their tribesmen relinquished their arms, as if to say they would never be so easily tamed or made a dog of. His son, he knew, had been a struggle for other decanii, and an even bigger terror towards their peers. No crack of the whip or glaring branding iron could have broken his will. He admonished his son’s behavior in the face of his superiors, but in his heart he praised them with all the spirit a father could give. Though he had long stopped believing in the fall of the Legion, he believed his Aster was capable of attaining real freedom. 

Death at the height of war wasn’t freedom, however. He couldn’t pretend to think his son’s spirit were any less enraged than they were in life, or think them satisfied with having given their life for a cause so against their own. Survival had been their way of fighting against the odds, the fact they’d lived after every fight, every punishment, had been a foil to the Legion’s wishes. But death had put a stop to that. Death had freed his son’s decanus of a “bad seed”, one less “wildling” to worry about when there were many like Cicero or Vulpes to contend with. Hortensius struggled to keep thinking in this way. If Aster’s dying had done even a single person of the Legion a modicum of good, then he’d have to count his son’s death a shameful one. Another failure. 

What had been the point in their surrender anyway? Decanus Hortensius moved to his bed as if lost in a haze, and looked up at the red burlap ceiling of his tent. He thought back to their last night as a free tribe, and on the words of their elders. There was rebellion in survival, if they held on long enough they would someday outlive the red flames of the Legion. Though the bulls were strong, stronger still was the good in the rest of the world. Hortensius had understood the wisdom in their message then, but years spent in the service of beasts had weakened his resolve to the point of finding the good as well as the evil in it. To win they would have to be patient, and with that resolve they had survived and shown themselves stronger than any of the weapons turned against them. But how deep were the scars, and how lasting! The youths of his people were reduced to pawns, and the best of his generation were made into war criminals like himself. Pillagers, raiders, scourges of the earth. People he’d known for years were newly made strangers under the influence of starvation, thirst and oppression. So many had forgotten their old names in favor of appeasing the census dogs that patrolled the streets and kept tabs on all the annexed tribes. It was harder now, more than ever, to remember why they had actually chosen to live.

Aster, you see me now from your place in the Far Away. Can’t you tell me what you know? 

The tears finally came as he tried to think of his Aster standing beside the spirits of his father and grandfather. They would have to guide his son in whatever he had failed. Even in the Far Away they would have to be raised, and he was glad they had found themselves once more in the company of their heroes. Though strangely enough, the image of that blessed meeting remained foggy in his mind, as if drowned into obscurity by the sheer force of his weeping. His body seemed to refuse it like a bad herb. Instead, his thoughts shot in the opposite direction, and where his son had stood were now the children fallen into rank in his encampment. 

Tribeless, parentless, with no hope of a better tomorrow, these were the children the red armies had spat out from the corpses of worthier people. They were miserable creatures with newly given names they could hardly pronounce for themselves. He’d never seen children in the service of war before joining the Legion, and could scarcely provide the heartlessness it took to train them. Hortensius avoided looking at them, in fact, and delegated that charge as often as he could to the rest of his command. But even his ignorance of their presence couldn’t save him from the painful sight of their bodies, or the knowledge that he had played a role in their demise. For every cog in the machine, no matter how small, was implicated in the disposal of these children. 

Then as he imagined them in Aster’s place, he feared they would tell his son of his negligence and of his shirking responsibility. It was to Decanus Hortensius they were assigned and not his second in command. But how could a man be a father and a guide to children he hadn’t sired? They were strange, frightening even, and fragile in ways that depressed his heart. None of them were ready to face violence on the battlefield, and those who’d survived up to this point had done it through chance alone. Despite what the Legion would have everyone believe, weapons were made out of metal, not brittled flesh.

Though was that enough to justify abandoning his post? They, like his son, had been someone’s heir once. 

In a way, Hortensius had denied these children of fatherly guidance, and as sick recompense he was denied a son. No longer would he be a real father to anyone, he would refuse to produce an heir and pretend infertility if questioned. Make another son? (For them to die? For them to pointlessly toil like these children?) It was out of the realm of possibility, he’d had his chance and with it he paid for his own crimes. He’d taken his position as decanus and his responsibilities to the soldiers entirely for granted. To his son, he’d shown himself a coward on the day of their surrender, and to these children he’d revealed himself an incompetent leader. This had been his comeuppance for forgetting the wisdom of his elders and faltering where he should have ardently rebelled. 

Everything was suddenly so clear. Hortensius began to understand why he saw these children in the place of his son. He had marked these boys as strangers out of the bounds of his past tribe. But where was his tribe now? A powerless people, scattered throughout the entire state of Arizona, their name an illicit whisper in the dark. How could he pretend to hold himself in higher regard than the orphans left behind in the bull’s passing? Wasn’t he also tribeless, parentless, with no hope of a better tomorrow? He’d blinded himself to the fact that all children were everyone’s charge, that no baby had cried any different to his own. Why hadn’t he seen this before? He wept into the coarse fabric of his cot and clenched his fists until they drew blood. The elders had told them to survive, but not alone. 

Aster shouldn’t have had to die for him to learn this lesson. It shouldn’t have come this far, yet he would work the rest of his life if it meant making amends for his cruelty. If his son watched him from the Far Away, then he wouldn’t give them any more cause for shame or disappointment. To the boys in his encampment, he owed a lifetime of service. They should survive long enough to see what his son couldn’t. 

The fall of the Legion couldn’t be enjoyed from the seat of death, only by living could they feel the retribution from a life rotted with grief. They will survive. From the strongest to the weakest, they will all survive. He swore by the blood under his nails and the persistence of his beating heart, that he would see every one of them alive and strong enough to fight. Even strong enough to turn against the hands that trained them.

#tw child death #tw war #tw colonization #tw colonialism #tw grieving #tw familial death #tw parental neglect #tw neglect #tw child neglect #.ooc #.Gabban #.my writing #tl;dr : literally...together...we are stronger...WE HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE BUT OUR CHAINS!!!!! #/ FUck the Legion ^^

[hiivedragon]

hey! you probably know me as brutus from @polytherian , but, in this past life of mine, my name was khapra. (or khapula. or khaera. there were a lot of names.)

i was/am a hivewing— a wasp-like dragon originating from the book series wings of fire. this blog, inspired by other such draconic entities on this lovely website (like this post!), is meant to record what i remember about my past.

this blog was also inspired by a poll by serpentclaws that highlighted the fact that most dragons on here did not have a society/culture, which is extremely different from my past life. so, i wanted to write about it.

hope to see infrequent essays from me, when the memories hit. thank you!

#tags; #.talking #.conversing #.asks #.hearthome #.me #.my writing #.others writing #.general rbs

[pxlvrxs]

CITY MOUSE, COUNTRY MOUSE walker, masters of horror

content warning(s); suggestive + dark content just to be safe!!!, kidnapping, implied murder (not reader tho), fem!reader and gendered anatomy, no smut, predator/prey dynamic, reader is nicknamed 'mouse' , written and edited in less than six hours

w/c; 2.2k

a/n; after making this post, i looked and there are hardly any fics for him. (s/o to the ppl who did write some, ily) hopefully the warren kole hype will give this ep more attention because i need more content. also, the entire time i wrote this all i could think abt was this edit. the brainrot is real.

It’d been two days. She could tell from the orange hues painting the horizon. The sun was dipping beneath the mountains for the second time since she’d been chained to the bed.

Her head pulsed with pain. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, thumping. It could have been from dehydration – she hadn’t had a sip of water in at least two days – or from the hard hit to the head. Her hair was matted with congealed blood. The wound had stopped bleeding by now, but she definitely had a concussion.

The mattress springs dug into her spine. A cold draft blew in from the windows and door. Gooseflesh prickled up all over her body. The clothes she’d been wearing had been stripped from her while she was unconscious.

He left her a pair of cotton panties, a bra, and the long socks she’d worn beneath her boots. Her sweater and jeans sat on the chair across the room, neatly folded and stacked. Her boots sat next to the door. He was mocking her.

He’d left her mostly unscathed. Save for some bruises and the nasty gash on her head, she was fine. Now it was just a question of what would kill her first: The cold or the dehydration.

She’d given up screaming a day ago. The only response to her cries was the hoots of mourning doves and the rattle of a woodpecker. There was no one to hear her, no one to rescue her.

It would be a torturous way to die; succumbing to dehydration and starvation. If the adventure books she read as a kid were correct, only one more day before her body would start to shut down. More than three days without a sip of water was a death sentence.

She wondered if he was watching her from somewhere. Watching her fade in and out of consciousness, writhing as hunger pains shook her whole body.

She was unconscious when she heard boots on the rickety porch. There was the steady creak of footsteps on the rotting wood before the door swung open. Her eyes fluttered, head lolling to the side. He was back. He was going to kill her.

Oh, god, I’m gonna die.

Thank god, it’s over.

Her mind flipped like a coin, unsure whether to feel fear or relief. Her heart began to thump against her ribcage.

“Oh, c’mon,” He slapped her a few times, not enough to sting but enough for her to open her eyes. She let out a shuddering breath at the side of him. “There you are, mouse.”

He’d taken to calling her that. He never got her name, he didn’t give her the chance to tell him. He’d introduced himself as “Walker” as he ducked into her passenger seat. The second the door had shut, he slammed her face into the steering wheel.

“Naive little city mouse.” He called her as he dragged her from the driver’s seat. “You trust too easy, darlin’.”

“You look rough.” Walker pulled a flask from his waistband, shaking it. Inside, liquid sloshed about. Reflexively, she jerked toward it. Pain tore through her shoulders and wrists. The ropes were tied too tight around her wrists, twisting her joints as she tried to lean up. “Easy girl,” He laughed breathily, pulling his knife from its sheath.

She shrunk away at the sight of it. The edge of the blade was still crusted with blood from when he sliced through her temple. He set the flask on the bedside table, leaning over her.

He gripped both of her wrists in one large hand, pinning her. The knife tore through the rope binding her to the bed frame. He ripped the duct tape from her mouth, her whimpers died in her dry throat.

He pulled away from her, standing up straight. He remained there for a moment. He watched with an amused grin as she lowered her wrists from the bedframe and sat up straight. She curled into herself, hoping to preserve what little modesty she still had.

She didn’t look at him, instead focusing on the ache in her shoulders. Bringing her arms to her lap made her wince in pain. Her heart was still beating like a rabbit’s. She was too exhausted to act on her fight-or-flight impulses. Sitting up made her head spin.

He reached for the flask again, uncapping the lid. He held it toward her, a silent offering. There was a smear of blood along the side. She looked up at him with wide eyes, her pupils dilated with fear.

“Oh so now you don’t trust me,” He took a quick swig from the flask, making a show of him swallowing. “Look, safe.” That was the only confirmation she needed. When he pressed the flask to her lips, she took greedy gulps of water, throat clicking with each swallow. It was warm and tasted slightly of dirt. There was a lingering aftertaste of malt liquor. He’d emptied the contents and filled it with water from the creek.

“Really, mouse, you think I would go through the trouble of bringing you here, just to poison you?” She soon fell behind, the water filling her mouth quicker than she could swallow. Her lungs began to burn with the lack of oxygen. He kept tilting the flask higher and pulling her head back by her hair. “Drink up.” He urged her, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

Instinctively, she took a breath. Water filled her airway, burning. She jerked forward, coughing and sputtering as water spilled into her lap. He pulled the flask away, laughing. Water dripped from her nose and lips once the coughing fit subsided.

She took a shaky breath in, coughing once more. Her eyes brimmed with hot tears, but she refused to let them slide down her cheeks. Her bound hands gripped into her thighs in a futile attempt to stop her trembling.

Walker reached out, pulling the hair away from her face with unexpected tenderness. He dragged his finger down the cut next to her hairline, his touch featherlight. He lowered himself to get a better look at the wound. The gash had stained her face with streaks of browning blood and dampened the roots of her hair. It’d closed since he inflicted it, the edges glistening red with fresh blood.

Walker let out a low whistle, calloused fingers finding their way to her jaw. He twisted her head toward him, blue eyes boring into hers. His grip was bruising, threatening to mar the soft flesh of her cheeks. His hot breath fanned her cheek.

“Gotcha’ good, didn’t I, mouse?” Walker liked to admire his work, bragging about it even. He’d recounted his last kill as he tied her up in the trunk of her own car. The knots had been second nature to him, virtually muscle memory. His deft hands made quick work of tying her up, all while he watched her hazy expression. “Don’t worry, you’re still pretty,” He cooed mockingly, releasing his grip on her.

It wasn’t the first time he called her pretty. When she rolled down her window, he’d leaned in, asking what a pretty girl like her was doing traveling all alone. Then, the compliment made her face flush and smile. Now, it made her stomach churn and her skin crawl.

“Would it kill you to speak?” He asked, his irritation etched on his features. She shook her head. Walker cocked his head to the side, not needing to vocalize his demand for her to understand.

“No.” Her voice was weak from disuse and dehydration. Walker smiled again. He had a charming smile, even she couldn’t deny that. It was no wonder she’d unlocked the car door. Picking up a hitchhiker was the dumbest decision someone could make. Hitchhiking hadn’t been safe since the 70s, and even then, it was iffy.

“Good girl,” He mused, pulling his face away from hers. “So I was thinking, mouse,” He spoke casually — like she was a friend, not his prey. “I’m sure it’s been awfully boring in this cabin, all alone.”

Her stomach began to twist into knots.

“How about we make things exciting? Play a game?” Something told her he didn’t mean Scrabble.

He pulled her wrists toward him harshly, bringing the knife to the rope. The blade sawed through the rope with ease. It fell into a pile on the mattress, revealing the raw skin beneath. Walker dragged a finger over the red and bloody skin, ignoring her wince as he did.

“You run, I chase.” He said it so flippantly, like they were kids on a playground. “If you win, you can do whatever you want. Go to the cops, tell ‘em everything.” 

 He paused, licking his lips.

“If I win, I get to do whatever I want.” That sentence alone made fear grip her throat like a vice. “Whaddya say? Yes or no?” It wasn't a question of what she preferred, she knew that. There was a wrong answer.

She nodded and Walker let out a displeased groan. His hand shot up, wrapping around her throat. He didn’t apply enough pressure to cut off her breathing, just enough to get his message across.

“Words, mouse.”

“Yes,” She choked out, hand wrapping around his wrist in a weak attempt to free herself. He let go of her neck, standing to his full height.

“I’ll give you a five-minute head start, just to keep it fair.” His back was turned to her, his knife in hand. If, by some miracle, she collected her wits and strength, she could’ve taken him out at that moment. But she remained on the bed, unsure what to do. He looked over his shoulder expectantly. “Time’s ticking, mouse.”

That made her spring into action. She lunged for the clothing on the chair, hurriedly pulling the jeans and sweater over her body. She didn’t bother to lace up or tie her boots, just yanking them on and running through the open door. As she ran, she looked over her shoulder to ensure Walker hadn’t lied.

The leaves beneath her feet had been reduced to mush from the recent snow. The bitter cold made its way through her sweater, sending a shiver down her spine. She continued on her straight path until the cabin disappeared into the trees.

Going straight will make my path easy to follow. She stood still for a moment, looking in all directions. Her head start had surely run out by now. It wouldn’t be long before Walker was on her tail. She dashed to the right, hoping it would bring her to the edge of the woods.

The mud squelched under her boots and her heavy breaths fogged in front of her face. Night had fallen by now, shrouding the woods in thick, inky darkness. An owl hooted in the distance.

She ran in that one direction for a few minutes, weaving through the trees. Her bootlace caught on a stray branch, sending her tumbling to the ground. Mud splashed all over her clothes and coated her skin. She brought a sleeve up to wipe the dirt from her face to no avail.

Somewhere to her left, a branch cracked.

“I heard that, Mouse!” He was gaining on her. Fast.

She leaped up and continued running. Her chest burned and side stitch was beginning to set in. The adrenaline dulled the pain but didn’t completely end it. She took deep gasping breaths. Her malnourished body couldn’t keep this up forever. She needed to find the road, now.

The trees began to thin out, giving way to the pavement. She clambered up the bank on her hands and knees. Pushing herself to her feet was laborious, but she forced herself to do it.

“Help!” She shrieked. “Someone, please!” Down the road, headlights illuminated the treeline as a car approached the curve. She waved her arms above her head, ignoring the pain.

Before the light was cast on her, a body slammed into her right side. She fell to the ground, rolling down the bank. She cried out as her ankle twisted with a sickening crack. Even more mud smeared her face and she gasped for air. Briars tore shallow cuts through her skin and snagged her already-ruined sweater.

She landed on her stomach, face pressed into the wet leaves. Next to her, Walker lay face-up, in slight shock from the fall. The rumble of the car engine grew louder and the headlights grew brighter. Groaning, she dragged herself forward. 

 “Hel-” She was cut off with a calloused palm clapping over her mouth, the knife pressed against her throat. The knife traced over her pulse point. A warning.

With teary eyes, she watched the car roll past. Her only hope disappeared down the road, fading into the night. Once he was sure the car was out of earshot, Walker removed his hand from her mouth. He grabbed her shoulder, flipping her onto her back.

She weakly slapped him, yelling incoherently and flailing. He grabbed both wrists, pinning them to her chest. He moved to straddle her, thighs holding her in place.

“Please! Please don’t kill me!” She sobbed, thrashing in his hold. He laughed. A genuine laugh. It echoed through the desolate woods. His head tilted back and the corners of his eyes crinkled. He pressed even more of his weight onto her chest, keeping her pinned to the forest floor.

“Oh, who said anything about killing?”

#.pxlvrxs #im so normal about him #warren kole #walker warren kole #warren kole x reader #walker x reader #masters of horror #walker masters of horror #phillip graves #tw; dark content #phillip graves x reader #.my writing

[briefle]

"What's this I hear about a whole lot of 'Nothing', then?" Martyn's voice travels from across the room. Or at least he thinks so. He can't quite see that far, with the... everything around him... much too bright. "I'm not quite sure you know what this is yet, but rest assured it is 'Something' alright." Scar doesn't have much else to do. So he bites.

or: woof. emotions. hmmmm. what if we pretended not to for half the ficlet. i hear guessing games are a wonderful team activity this time of year.

#is this what i get when i give myself free time? almost 1.5k words in an afternoon? i should attempt being creative more often. #secret life #goodtimeswithscar #gtwscar #grian #inthelittlewood #pearlescentmoon #.my writing #scott is also there. but his impact is so small i feel bad giving him a full tag. but like. he's there. he's a winner. #i just decided to format his dialogue in a special way and that naturally reduced any chance of a big speaking role.