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arminsumi · 8 months

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Your blog is my daily serotonin <3

geto letting you put eyeliner on him while sitting on his lap- taking the opportunity to flirt with you!!! I'm imagining soft, light, almost tickling touches and his sultry eyes. reader *desperately* trying to keep her cool...

ahhhhaaaaaaaa

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ?

A/N: stawppp u made me blush tysm 💗 also this idea made me SPIN in my spinny chair i love it sm. sugie's eyes are so mesmerizing 🫠 (p.s. ur theme is so prettyyy!!)

Wc ≈ 1.4k

Pairing: GETO Suguru x f.reader

Summary: practicing putting eyeliner on your best friend, while sat in his lap. He can't help but take this chance to flirt with you. Of course, a certain someone interrupts your moment right at the end

Warnings; Satoru being a jackass and totally interrupting u guys at THE moment lol

♪ melting like an ice cream when you smile

“Is it bothering you? Should I clip it back?” Suguru asked.

“Nooo, I don’t mind it.” you replied. “I can keep your bangs at bay with my pinkie, ‘s all good.”

What you did mind was the proximity between you and him.

You could feel the support of his muscular thighs and the engulfing warmth radiating from his chest even through that oversized cotton shirt of his. The very white shirt that had always driven your senses wild for some reason – probably because of how its short sleeves teasingly hinted at his toned arms underneath without completely showing them off.

Pinkie keeping his bangs at bay, fingertip lightly pressing against his cheekbone and hair tickling your skin, you applied the eyeliner with slow, meticulous strokes.

Suguru was mesmerized. You looked focused like an artist at work on a painting. And he noticed that you seemed mesmerized, too. Even a bit shy, which he commented on because it was so unlike you.

“Shy, huh?” He teased.

“I’m not shy.” You denounced half-heartedly. “Why would I be?”

He just smirked in response, and that itself had such an effect on you; your careful line became an inky squiggle. “Oh no! No no no!” you muttered under your breath, hastily using your pinkie to wipe the mistake away but that only resulted in smudging it awkwardly into the crease of his eyes.

“Don’t laugh! Don’t smile! I have to fix the corner…” you begged with Suguru, but that only made him laugh and smile harder. He apologized through soft chuckles.

After correcting the mistake, you pulled back from his face to check that both sides seemed equal. Only when you pulled your face away like this, did you and Suguru realize in the back of your minds that you were quite close to each other earlier…

“Mesmerized by something?” he asked teasingly. His cool voice was so close to your ears, it felt like it reverberated in your whole chest.

Sultry eyes narrowed interestedly at you as you observed the corners of them. Those abyssal irises demanded eye contact from you, and once they got it, they peered into your soul. Suguru loved doing that, not only to appreciate your eyes but because of your sweet, shy reaction.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare. Just making sure both sides look the same.” You told him.

“Mhm.” He hummed.

Maybe the broken eye contact is what led him to snake his arms around your waist and pull you closer. Or maybe he just missed the intimate closeness that you had with him earlier, when your faces were quite close.

You tried to distract yourself from the bubbling heat in the pit of your stomach that his subtle touch caused. “I’m not very talented at eyeliner…” you admitted.

“Really? I think yours always looks good.” Suguru said.

“Just ‘good’ ?! That means I look bad.”

He chuckled. “No I – alright, I’ll phrase it better; you always look like you’re ready for a photoshoot.”

“Oh, stop flirting!” you scolded him playfully, causing his lips to stretch into a cheeky smile.

“Aw, you caught me in the act.” He muttered sultrily.

You tried not to smile, but that was very impossible in the moment. It seems it was the same for him, too. Being so close to you with his arms wrapped around your waist put him in an excited daze.

Sunset light streamed in through the sheer curtains, patterned shadows forming on the white bed made it seem like you were sitting on a grey meadow of flowers, twigs and leaves. A very slight rumble of traffic rose over the railing of the balcony just outside the sliding door. Tokyo had a certain sound and feeling to it, one you could never put your finger on.

After a bout of silence, you realized you and him had stopped talking and just stared into one another’s eyes. You’d even stopped applying the eyeliner. Stomachs knotted up with feelings, the two of you were both about to say something to each other before you blurted out “The brown eyeliner fits you well, glad I chose it.”

“Oh?” he batted his lashes at you… or was that an involuntary action? Who knows. You continued to carefully flick the felt tip of the eyeliner until a tiny, sharp angle was formed.

Well, ‘sharp’. It wasn’t as razor-edged as the other side, which really bothered you. The way you flitted your eyes between his two made him crack a smile that made his Addam’s apple subtly shift up and down.

“Do I look bad?” he asked curiously.

“Not at all… you look ho- you look good with eyeliner.” You replied.

“Oh, I look hot, huh? You crushin’ on me? Satoru’s gonna be heartbroken.” He joked.

“I'm not crushing — !” you squeaked quickly in response, taken aback.

“You’re not crushing on me or you’re not crushing on him?”

“I’ve never… I’m not crushing on Satoru.” You told him.

Such an unexpectedly serious question for him throw into the mellow atmosphere. He tried to sound light-hearted so he wouldn’t scare you off from answering, or give hint to his nervousness.

“So then…?”

“So then what?” you blinked at him, all movements of the eyeliner brush ceased. Things were getting heatedly exciting.

“So then, you have a thing for me?”

You widened your eyes at him. His heart thumped, he was getting nervous – unsure how to judge your reactions to his questions. He was trying to assess whether you liked him or not, and you were making it so hard. If only he could read your mind, he thought.

“Huh? What? Stop flustering me!” You laughed it off.

He could tell you were avoiding answering out of nervousness, but it still irked him; he really wanted to know.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to just spring that on you so suddenly. I was just… curious.” He said.

You sighed. “I’m… I’m already melting over you, no need to vaporize me.”

“Oh? You’re melting?” his eyes lit up, “Why?”

“Because…” you trailed off immediately, “No reason.” You lied.

“No reason?” he questioned, raising his brows sceptically, “You sure about that?”

With the way he raised his brows, his eyes became even more spellbinding. You felt completely bewitched by them. The pigment of the liquid eyeliner, paired with the undertones of the eye pencil you started with, paired with the slight glint of light in his eyes – all of it made that bubbling heat in your stomach explode into an even bigger feeling.

You got so lost in his pretty, abyssal eyes that you didn’t realize how silent you’d become, or how close you had gotten to his face – not that he minded the increased proximity, it had his heart pumping hard.

“You okay? Still melting?” he teased.

“Sorry! I’m just – “

“ – mesmerized by me? Melting for me?” he teased further.

“Suguru!” you laughed shyly.

“There’s no need to keep playing it off, I can see right through you.” He said seriously.

Your eyes lingered on his for much too long. It felt like what he said was true – it felt like he really could see right through you, like you were transparent. He was itching to break the tension between you and him with a feverish kiss. One of those classic, best-friends-to-lovers kisses that you see in the movies.

But then guess who burst through the door of your apartment as loudly as possible? Yeah, the jackass that you regretfully gave your apartment key to.

“YOUR SAVIOR HAS ARRIVED!” Satoru hollered, striding down the hallway and popping his head into your bedroom to find you and Suguru breaking apart very quickly, as if you weren’t just on his lap about to share your first kiss.

“Did ya miss me? ‘Course you did. What?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head.

“What’s with that look?” Satoru whined.

“Nothiiing!” You groaned, Suguru just chuckled under his breath.

“Yuh, I mean, I didn’t do anything, after all. Weirdos.” Oh, you really wanted to shove a pillow into his face.

He pounced on the bed, coming right between you and Suguru without thinking too much of it. “I’m so hungry – let’s get takeout.” He whined and rolled around on your bed. He pleaded until you gave in. “Yay, let’s fuckin’ go then I’m so starved.” He said dramatically.

So you and Suguru readied yourselves to go out for a spontaneous food trip.

“What a pity.” He said with the utmost sultriness in his eyes and voice, leaving you at the doorframe with a wink that lingered in your mind for the rest of the day.

Reblogs n' comments help a lot!! 💗😙

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#♥️ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑 #fluff #geto #geto suguru #suguru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #suguru x reader #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jujutsu geto #geto fluff #suguru fluff #suguru geto #geto suguru x you #getou x reader

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fmhobeus · 3 months

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morning sex! with nanami! it's all i fucking think about!!!!!!!

(arranged marriage au? slight somnophilia?)

he was usually up before you. like wayyy earlier. he's learnt not to bother you even though you can feel his massive weight be lifted of the bed. you know his routine by now. he goes to the gym early, showers and makes himself a cup of coffee by the time you start cooking breakfast. that's the routine, that's one you're aware of. what you don't know is that he's been watching you sleep... for like... everyday you both have lived together.

and it's !!not!! creepy, of course, you are his wife. it's not creepy, the fact that if he looks at you too long he starts to feel his pants getting tighter, a siege of blood flowing south.

it isn't wrong, when he pulls your covers down from your face. of course he just wants you to breathe easier. it's not lust. just an added bonus that he can now see your pretty lips parted, begging for a kiss and your pretty tits squished by your arms as you lay on your side.

if it's not wrong then why does he... why does he feel this way? this guilt? and why does it make him hornier?

so one of these weekends, as he told himself, he'd try his luck. it was all too unbearable for him at this point. you were fogging up his brain with these lewd images. and worst part was... you were oblivious to the effect you had on him.

it's a sunday. his body wakes up at the usual time. wee hours of the morning. you're by his side this time. it's all up to him now.

he tries to be discreet, at first. try lovey-dovey stuff first, as the internet has told him. you feel him shift in the bed and suddenly your husband's massive arms hug you from behind. the muscles tense as he pulls you to his chest. his heart is pounding. and its barely like 5 am.

"you're sleeping in?"

"yeah, weekend."

"no gym?" you ask. you both sleep face opposite sides, this is one of the few times you've had to adjust your body to his frame. you squiggle as you talk, trying to fit the soft curvature of your body with his flatter, harder frame.

"no.. it's uh... closed for maintenance today." he too has a hard time adjusting to you. to your curves, to your proximity, to how you slept in his arms like a fawn. to how he would conceal his erection to spend time like this with you. too much, too unbearable.

"oh, ok." you smiled. "wake me up if you need anything hm?"

you close your eyes once more. now something else woke you up. nanami's face nuzzled in your neck. his hands, this time, toying with your waist. his bulge apparent. it made sense now. you couldn't help but smile to yourself.

nanami kento is the beautiful man you are married to. gorgeous blonde hair. piercing brown eyes, shaped so angular that it's intimidating. perfect jaw structure. and god... that dick. he was caring and responsible too. how could a man this perfect ever love you? you were convinced he didn't. he always looked stoic, removed, disconnected from you an your relationship. he fucked you with care and gentleness and diabetic sweetness. you couldn't feel him want you. but you'd grown to want him. who the fuck has a one sided crush on their own husband?

but this... this felt different. this felt like all those fantasies were gonna come true. those moments you spent doting on him, creating the nastiest scenarios.

oh god, his soft blonde hair, unkempt and messy in bed. his eyes barely open, his body warm. he smelled like himself and not his expensive cologne. it was all so domestic. all so comfortable. how could you miss this side of nanami?

but you continued to be merry with the domesticity of it all to foresee how your perfect husband was about to perfectly split you open with his perfect dick.

#aniya writes ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა #jjk ^ ~#nanami ♡#nanami 😘😘😘😘😘#nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #kento nanami #WIP !!!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

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The Farmer's Daughter 11

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“So… what happens if Walter buys us out?” Timothy asks, a confused squiggle in his brow that hasn’t lessened for the entirety of the conversation.

“Well, we won’t be out on the street,” your mother says, “and your father will be taken care of. We can send him to The Gardens. He’ll be comfortable there… we can visit.”

You bite on your knuckle, gnawing anxiously. Timothy frowns and rubs his chin, a sparseness of new stubble there. He sniffs as he tries to unravel the riddle.

“Does that mean he’s my boss?”

“Well, more of a landlord,” your mom explains, “he’ll help with the farming and take his cut. If he does this, he’ll have to cut back at the mill. It’s a big sacrifice. For everyone.”

Timothy nods and drops his hand to twiddle against the table, “it sounds like a good idea.”

“Yeah… it’s our only idea,” your mom murmurs.

“What are the terms?” You ask suddenly, hiding the ridged marks in your finger left by your teeth. “He’s going to let us pay rent? On a whole farm?”

“If the bank gives him good news,” she rubs her palms together, “I don’t know. We need more information but we can hope.” Her voice quavers as she brings the tissue back to her nose, “I only ever want to do what’s best for you two.”

“Ma,” you reach out to touch her elbow, “we can help. We’ll pull together. All of us, with or without Walter.”

“I hope we can,” she snivels and begins to weep again.

You look at Timothy. He looks gaunt. He’s absolutely terrified. No matter how hard you try, you can’t see him doing it himself. He isn’t ready to take over for your dad. You don’t know if he ever will be.

You turn back to your mom as her shoulders shake. She looks little better than Timothy and you bet, if you glanced in a mirror, you would be much the same. This can’t all fall on her. She’s had to deal with so much so far.

“Tim, what’s wrong with the truck?” You ask suddenly, your mother and brother flinching at the same time.

“What?” He stammers.

“What’s wrong with it? Is it running?”

“Yeah, kinda, it stalls out but you just gotta give it a few.”

“Ma, how long?”

“What?” She rasps.

“How long do we have? Without Walter, just us. How long do we have to figure this out?”

She lowers her head and takes a deep breath. Her voice cracks, “six months.”

You cringe and try to show the impact as her answer threatens to knock you over. You lay your hands gently on the table and stand. You leave them and go into the living room where your father sits, staring and still. You pull up the short footstool from in front of the couch and sit by him.

You’re silent as you watch him. His eyes are glazed, his features are slack and emotionless, he doesn’t even know you’re there. He is a ghost. You put your hand on his, begging him to smile, begging him to crack a joke. Your heart swells then shrinks down so small it hurts.

“Dad,” you whisper and squeeze his hand, “I love you.”

You stand and kiss his cheek. He doesn’t react. You see your mother in the doorway. She watches with arms folded but doesn’t say a word as you cross the room. Neither do you.

You pass into the hallway and march down to the front door. You slip your feet into your shoes and snatch the keys off the hook. Your mom always said you were a daddy’s girl and your dad always told you that no matter how shitty it is, you do what needs to be done for the family. At the end of the day, it’s the only thing you can count on.

You leave without looking back. A tremor rolls through you as you open up the garage. You just need the truck to make it there, that’s it. You climb in the front seat and twist the ignition, chanting desperate pleas until it catches. The engine rumbles and you hit the gas, surging out before you can think better of this.

Your mother watches through the window as you steer away from the house. You lean over the wheel as the headlights shine over the dark country landscape. You’ve never been up that way but you know where you’re going.

Tap, tap, tap. At first you panic, thinking the engine’s sputtering out. Then the droplets turn to rivulets and the rain pours down, streaming over the windshield as you flip on the wipers. You’re at the edge of the seat, clutching the wheel tight as the belt strains across your chest.

The tires suck in the mud as the countryside turns boggish. You rock with the truck as it chuffs over the slickening earth, slowing with the incline of the next hill. Not much further. Almost there.

There’s a sudden pop and a chortle that rattles the truck. You yipe as the engine putters out and the headlights dim. You feel the world rolling backwards. You yank on the emergency brake, the old Ford lurching to a halt. You slam your hands on the thin steering wheel and lean your head against the cool leather.

Just a little further.

You raise your head, looking forward at the black road then at the rearview at the void. You’ve come this far. You take the keys and pull on the handle, letting yourself out in the whipping rains. The cold shower soaks through you in an instant as you slip through the mud, arms pumping as you take the last of the hill in a half-sprint.

You’re gulping and gasping as you come in sight of a single light. A rectangle of yellow, the only beacon amid the storm. Your teeth chatter as you will yourself onward. Your feet splash and you tumble over the bumpy ground, staggering and stumbling towards the dark house.

You fall against the stairs and heave, shaking as you fight for air. You put your feet under you and push yourself up. You stamp onto the first step, then the next, and the next. You catch the door frame and heave as you hear noise from within.

You grip the handle of the screen door but before you can pull it back, the door within opens and amber light spills into the blackness. You stare through the mesh as Walter’s broad silhouette towers over you. You gasp up at him and touch the screen.

“I’m sorry,” you eke out through a shiver.

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #au #backwoods au #drabble #series #night hunter #the farmer's daughter

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katsune-nya · 9 months

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Reader asks TR characters: would you love me if i would be a worm? 😁😅

Hhhhhh. Ok, this is one of my favorite couple questions. I feel like it'd be so fun to annoy the guys especially with this. I chose Draken, Hakkai, Tetta, Emma and Hina. Might add more if I get ideas.

Thank you nonnie~♡.

Ken "Draken" Ryuguji.

"Baby, I have a very important question. And I really want you to take this seriously, it could change our relationship forever..." You talk.

Draken stopped his movements on his bike, lowering the tool he had in his hand and getting up to sit by your side.

"Alright. What is it? I promise it won't change a thing, I'll always stay by your side, okay?" He says in a soft voice, looking at you with seriousness in his eyes.

You take a deep breath, getting the words ready before you look him in the eye. "Would you still love me if I was a worm?".

"..."

"Actually, I don't think I love you as a person." He goes back to his bike, working on it silently.

"Come on! This is serious! Would you? I really wanna know..." You whine as you walk behind him.

Draken let's out a sigh. "Yes. I would love you if you were a worm."

You perk up and go crouch next to him by the side of his bike.

"Really? Even if I was an ugly one?" You ask cheerfully.

"You already look like an ugly worm." He teases blankly, neutral voice.

"KEN!".

Hakkai Shiba.

"Hey, Love Of My Life? Prettiest Boy Alive?" You call to your new boyfriend.

He turns his head to the side to look at you, "Hm?" he's still not fully confident in your company, but he's getting better at actually conversing.

"Would you love me if I was a worm?" You ask.

His face goes red, eyes wide. "Taka-chan didn't prepare me for this!" He thinks. "Uh... I-... Y-yes?" He asks, more than affirms.

"So you're admitting you love me, then?" You can't help but tease him when he looks this cute.

"Ah! I- I don't-! I mean- I do!- N-no! What I mean-" You just laugh as he stutters. Yeah, this relationship will be fun.

Tetta Kisaki.

"Baby..." You start. The second he hears your tone he KNOWS you're gonna say something stupid.

"Don't." He responds simply.

You lie on his arm and pop your question. "Would you love me if i was a worm?" You say with doe eye.

"..." He finally sighs. "What kinda worm? Eath? Venomous? Caterpillar?" He trails off. You think. "I don't know, any worm."

"There's a difference. Venomous?" He asks. "Mm, caterpillars are more interesting. Sure." You decide.

"Mm..." He thinks, thinking about it a bit too seriously. "Yeah." He settles. "What if i was an earthworm?" You continue.

"No."

Oddly enough, his last response doesn't sound like the truth.

Emma Sano.

"Princess... Would you love me if i was a worm?" You ask your girlfriend.

"Ew." She says with a small disgusted expression. She then leans on your arm and looks up at you, trying to give you a cute face.

"Would YOU love me if i was a worm?"

"That's unfair, i asked first!" You complain.

"Hmph... Fine... Yeah, i would, you'd be a cute worm." She says, finishing it off with a sweet smile.

A giggle escapes your lips. "Well, i would love you too if you were a worm. You'd be one of those cute fluffy ones." You realize.

"Aww. We could go on worm dates, squiggling through the leaves. Settling down and having worm babies." Emma starts trailling off, in her little worm fantasy.

You blink a few times. "Ok, that's enough."

Hinata Tachibana.

"Hinaaaaaaaa." You call out, to your girlfriend sitting on the other side of the couch.

"Yeah?" She responds, tilting her head with a small smile.

"Would you love me if i was a worm?" You ask.

"Yeah!" She tells you. "I would get you a little terrarium. Fill it with fresh soil and spraying it a bit, putting little leaves in it and making sure you're well nurtured." She explains nonchallantly.

"Would you get me little decorations?"

"Yup. Some tiny sticks and little branches with holes for you to hide. Some pretty rocks too." She adds cheerfully.

"..." You stare at her. "I love you."

#tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #hakkai shiba x reader #emma sano x reader #hinata tachibana x reader #tetta kisaki x reader #draken x reader #ken ryuguji x reader #ken ryuuguji x reader #kisaki tetta x reader #tokyo revengers fluff

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rainsoftenings · 1 year

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MOLDY REFUSE HEAP — You study the earth. A pitiful attempt at compost lies before you, a smear of dirt and disarray, with plenty of manmade, shattered objects strewn in alongside the organic material. A loaf of bread, still wrapped in its plastic lining, though with a huge gash on the side exposing it to the elements, is festooned with little brown mushrooms.

INLAND EMPIRE — Those mushrooms are looking at you. Mocking you.

YOU — What? They're mushrooms...

INLAND EMPIRE — Look at that one with its ugly little head. Looks like a big wart, and also like it's giving you the finger. Are you going to let that bastard give you the finger?

HALF-LIGHT — SHOOT IT! It's trying to make you look stupid!

YOU — [Draw your gun and aim it at the mushroom-bread wad.]

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant shifts nervously, trying to parse your movements. He'll no doubt wrest the gun away from you should the need arise.

YOU — [Shout.] "Tell me the name of God, you fungal piece of shit!"

SHIVERS — The bread, which once seemed inert, writhes with life before your very eyes. Wheat from faraway fields is milled into flour, mixed with water and sugar and yeast and baked in some mass-production facility God knows how far away only to come to rest, spurned and uneaten, at your feet. No, not uneaten- the yeast, another fungus, was killed, incinerated, in the process of baking. The mold reclaims what remains of its fallen brethren. If you listen close enough, you can almost hear it speaking...

SHIVERS — CAN YOU FEEL YOUR HEART BURNING. CAN YOU FEEL THE STRUGGLE WITHIN. THE FEAR WITHIN ME IS BEYOND ANYTHING YOUR SOUL CAN MAKE. YOU CANNOT KILL ME IN A WAY THAT MATTERS.

YOU — [Cock your gun.] "I'M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU!"

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant's muscles tense now, poised to strike. A look of apprehension- no, fear and concern- crosses his face...

YOU — [Shoot the piece of moldy bread.] PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — You hadn't realized it, but your whole frame is trembling, shaking. Tears stream down your face. You hunch, in shame and agony. Like some forgotten gargoyle creature out of myth.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Medium: Failure] — The recoil sends a throb down your arm, like you've just been kicked.

KIM KITSURAGI — He places a hand on your shoulder, and you flinch. "Detective, if I may be so bold as to ask... What did you mean by that?"

COMPOSURE [Difficult: Success] — Hey now. Straighten up. It's Kim. You must answer in a coherent fashion.

INLAND EMPIRE — Screw coherence. The fervent squigglings of your brain will emerge from your mouth until the very stars blink out.

YOU — [Compose yourself.] "Decay exists as an extant form of life."

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant blinks, bewildered. He has no response to that, to your frighteningly calm visage, still stained with drying tears. Behind him, the drunks raise their glasses of brew, yowl a cheer.

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Terrifying answer, Tequila Sunset! Have a nice day!”

#disco elysium #just going through the backlog for the best of these imo #kim kitsuragi #idiot doom spiral

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constellationcrowned · 8 months

Note

~Phollie and Kariom need to have another conversation; dream or otherwise! (uwu)

The darkness---expansive and endless---feels like it's closing in with each breath no matter how small, it feels like it's seconds away from crushing him the longer the half-blood takes to search said expanse with far too wide eyes only to find....nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing...! There were no stars here, there was only a crushing, ink-filled void.

"No...No! Let me out of here!! I SAID LET ME OUT...!!" His panic is overwhelming; it floods his senses UNTIL IT OVERFLOWS UNSEEN OUT OF HIS MOUTH DOWN TOWARDS HIS FEET, black ink staining his barely tied shoes, black ink wetting his ankles, black ink spreading outwards faster and faster and faster as Kariom turns around and around and around in ever widening, useless circles. A few steps here, some there, a few frantic glances everywhere, splash, splash, splash, and---

"---You won't get anywhere by going in circles, darling." The sudden cooing voice playfully emanating from directly behind him---he hadn't seen her, she'd been STANDING THERE THE WHOLE TIME and he hadn't been able to see her, she'd been FOLLOWING HIM STEP FOR FRANTIC STEP THE WHOLE TIME and he hadn't even seen her.....!---makes the half-blood all but jump out of his skin, his bones cracking with the effort as he rapidly changes direction and lunges bodily away from the Ink Lord. "Not a word of greeting or thanks from you, even after extending a personal invitation! Still a tremendously naughty boy, I see." Tsk, tsk, tsk! No wonder she'd barred him from her house.

"SHUT UP---!! You're talking as if this isn't some diabolical trap!!" Invitation? She'd...invited him here? When? How? Why? Doesn't matter! He's grasping and it shows, with that keen edge of panic in his voice getting sharper and sharper with every word. Let me out. Let me out. Let me out....! I don't want any of this so just LET ME OUT....! "Why don't you just---"

"---There's no need for such hostility, kiddo! I only wanted to give you a gift. Shall we pretend that it's still your Tigla-Dera...? Hm, actually we don't need to pretend at all, do we?" Phollie's voice overrides Kariom's shouting with ease, likewise the sudden snapping of the being's fingers is sharp and clear and what ought to be an inconsequential sound suddenly fills the space with such intensity that the half-blood visibly recoils. The snap sends a ripple spreading across the surface of the steadily rising ink---where Kariom's own movements disturb it not at all---and in the wake of that ripple there's color, overwhelming in its brightness and immediate appearance.

".....!" Kariom gasps aloud as the sloshing sound of his footsteps---the ink is rising and so are the things that live inside of it and bleed it afresh, even if HE CANNOT SEE THEM---replaced but the soft rustle of grass and displaced foliage. The grass is warm, the air is warm, the faces around him are.... "N....no....this....this isn't...!" Ahh, but it is, and now with each useless revolution of his trembling form Kariom's eyes pass across face after face after face, all smiling, all warm, all familiar, until they land on one face in particular: Flynn.

"Say kiddo----"

"No...! No, no, no...!" Not this. Not this. Not this. Anything but this again. Kariom tries to back up but a pinching sensation in his shoulders---to say nothing of the sudden cold prickling against his chest and filling his lungs, the ink is getting higher and higher and higher---halts his retreat. Phollie's fingers dig into his form as she leans over the top of his head and gives him a wink from behind her vibrant red spectacles. Ripples turn into waves with no shore or body to break upon, rising higher and higher and higher, up his legs, his chest, up the length of his throat, ink pouring out of his mouth and---

"No leaving without your 'gifts' kiddo, every last one! We all have one to give you!" Now the faces surrounding him are leering at him; their once bright, jubilant faces twisting into snarls as the darkness brought in by the Ink Lord seeps into everything. Now the gathered tsourai are moving forward as one; closing in, hemming him in, PREVENTING HIS ESCAPE AS FLYNN STEPS FORWARD WITH HIS OWN TWISTED SMILE---

"NO---!" Kariom's scream is harsh and barely choked out; his mouth now full of ink that he tries in vain to cough out but there's just too much of it. There's no treading here---there is only the drowning---and still the star-reader struggles and flails as the ocean of ink reappears at last with him lost in the middle of it all, his body being pulled under and then, somehow, he fights his way back up, choking and sputtering, again and again and again, getting weaker and weaker with each successive fight. And amidst it all Phollie stands in front of him; bent at the waist and watching him with obvious glee, upon a perfectly still surface unaffected by the other's thrashing.

"I'll give you your gift now, darling. Are you ready?" Phollie doesn't bother to keep the laugh out of their tone either and once Kariom's head breaks the surface of the ink for the umpteenth time the Ink Lord extends one black gloved hand---not a helping hand, never a helping hand---and above that slender palm is AN ARRANGEMENT OF STARS, the sight of which makes every nerve in Kariom's already overwhelmed and suffering body burn with such intensity it's a wonder he can function at all. Those stars...those stars are....!!!

He snarls at her, powering forward in an attempt to reach it---no matter what he had to reach it, no matter what he needed to TAKE THE CROWN OF LEAVES FROM HER!!!---and the light is there, the song is there, all of it is bursting inside of his head, a force so strong it could wipe everything else away even the vast sea of ink he was currently drowning in, he just needed to---

"Remember this, Kariom, remember this and only this: You might have the light of the stars in that poor, addled head of yours---" and she even moves the constellation forward just a bit; enough so that it creates stark lines across his ink stained face, enough so that the lines might burn into his eyes, "---but EVERYTHING AROUND THEM BELONGS TO ME." And then the Ink Lord crushes the constellation with her fist and everything goes black as Kariom screams and screams and screams---

Kariom screams himself awake; his body bolting upright all on its own with barely enough time to orient himself properly before he's vomiting violently on the floor as sweat pours down his face and tears sting his eyes. It's a wonder that he doesn't just fall face first into his own sick; he can barely feel anything save for the burning sensation radiating throughout every inch of him but, somehow, he has no idea how, Kariom finishes only to then fall backwards onto his makeshift bed in a fevered, writhing heap. His hands are pressed hard against his eyes---he's trying to blot out the dream, he's trying to remember the constellation reflected there amidst the pain, he's trying, he's trying, he's trying---as he pants for air he doesn't even know what to do with.

"Haa...haaah....." Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Please make it stop.

#;;ask response: ic kariom #;;ask response: ic phollie #;;ask response: with squiggles #anonymous #emetophobia tw #long post #drowning tw #drowning mention tw

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alexandriteobscuraarchive · 11 months

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~"You can hate home but it's still home." (for Roui)

The Ever Pleasant Mr Bates

He stills immediately; with his previous restlessness slowly being crushed by a weight that he tried---oh holy names, did he try---to run away from. Roui's ears twitch and then flatten against his skull as his tail suddenly brushes against the floor behind him. Even the pain that came with moving his docked ear was muted compared to the pain currently CRAWLING OUT FROM THE DEPTHS OF HIS HEART.

"I don't hate them....no, I DON'T WANT TO HATE THEM." I don't. I don't. I don't. I truly don't but everything is so complicated. Family would always be the worst subject for him. Family would always be the freshest wound. "All I've ever wanted is for them to accept me. For them to look at me with pride NO MATTER WHAT I CHOSE TO DO WITH MY LIFE, no matter how many times I might fail and have to pick myself back up again as a result. I just...." I don't hate them. I can't hate them, and yet....

"This place HASN'T BEEN MY HOME FOR A LONG TIME NOW and I'm honestly not sure when that happened. I knew that things were bad when I left for Nouri---it's largely the reason why I wanted to leave, deep down---but back then I was also naive enough to think that I could fix things but now? Now I have no idea. Maybe they wouldn't even want me to try but seeing maman, Serban, and even Aunt Brilla and Rasko, it just makes me feel like they're all....stuck. All of us are; in one way or another, and even if things don't turn out perfectly I still want to help them. I still want the acceptance I should've gotten as a kid. I still want this place to be a home for me even if it isn't the only home I have. No matter how harshly they treat me I can't bring myself to fully abandon them, how's that for naive?"

Roui's gaze finally rises from the floor although his heavy, guilt laden expression still remains. One step at a time; inhale on one, exhale on three. ".....Do you think I'll be able to make this place my home again?" It doesn't have to be my only home---in fact I don't want it to be my only home---but it'd be nice to have, all the same.

#;;ask response: ic roui #;;ask response: with squiggles #anonymous

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malusrecord · 13 days

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~"Don't tell me you're reading that book again Lord Mell."

The young man's guilt is oddly appropriate---the book itself was, in his mind, one MEANT TO INSPIRE GUILT---and he can't help but laugh quietly at the irony of it. And himself---himself most of all.

"YOU'VE CAUGHT ME, Michelle! Haha..." Fingers barely hover over worn parchment and ink soaked pages, with the handwritten inscriptions already worn by repeated openings and handling despite the care Mell took to keep the book in good condition. "My religious studies are very important you know, so of course I must go over them again and again." And maybe one day he would be able to intone the words with love in the way everyone expected him to do. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe one day the pressure of it all would stop making him feel SICK TO HIS STOMACH.

"Did...you have need of me...?" Please say yes, I'll take anything. "I apologize if I didn't hear you calling out before I was...ah.....rather absorbed. Please don't think ill of me for my rudeness."

#;;ask response: ic mell #;;ask response: ic mell (verse: rose manor)#;;ask response: with squiggles #anonymous

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1shadowhole · 4 months

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IMPORTANT FANDOM PSA

Context: Several people in the fandom are being harassed and impersonated by one individual. He has now accused me of pretty serious shit

Cersei! Nice to hear from you again. Your stench warned me of your presence.

So.

Fake accusation is fake, but seems rather real if someone without context sees this soooo

To everyone: This is fake. If you follow me you'll know I'd never think of sending or saying anything like that, cuz my parents raised a good person. (censored cuz I don't want that language on my blog)

BUT OF COURSE that looks real.

HOWEVER:

It's not an actual ask. If you look for the post on @guyyg1 blog you'll see that it's just a photo... weird to answer someone like that.

if you edit the picture, you'll see those weird colored things. It means that the picture has been edited.

How can you be sure that those things don't appear everywhere?

I'm so glad you asked and I'm so grateful for @guyyg1 so send me some more harassment to prove it

kind of a stupid move to send hate to someone who you are trying to frame for doing the same thing. ANYWAY those are insults in broken italian.

if you do the same editing tricks you'll see that the pic is clear and with no squiggles

Everyone is welcome to do the same to check if you want.

Also, so sorry, Merlin fandom, I'll have to tag this post with all the tags Cersei used cuz I don't want that thing to go unchecked, and I want someone scrolling through the tags to see my response first.

Flag them if you can, and sorry to all the people following my side blogs who will see this once I repost

#i speak #merthur #merlin #bbc merlin #colin morgan #bradley james #arthur pendragon #also real funny calling me a bigot... for someone advocating for the holocaust #pretty shitty if you ask me #own post

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roomsofangel · 4 months

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GROWING PAINS . . . # CHAPTER ONE !

synopsis you hated christmas. simple. this year was no different, the only thing changing was the scenery when you decide to let your older brother, yunho convince you to visit your grandmother who neither of you had met but hoped it would do some good. everything was still the same — writer’s block, the winter loneliness, the way yunho won’t stop singing jingle bell rock, yeah, everything was the same. at least, until a certain blonde haired boy made it his mission to melt your iced heart.

warnings none

wc 745

if you’d like to be added to the taglist please either send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are also very appreciated! ^_^

your hand held the pen with a firm grip, shakily tracing a few squiggled lines on your clean sheet of paper that wouldn’t be for much longer, teeth sinking into your bottom lip enough to draw the taste of metallic. “this is bullshit.” you set the pen down on the desk, running your fingers through the strands of your hair with a slight tug at your scalp, “do you think i’m allowed to fail?” you called out to your brother who walked in with his hands to his head, towel being used to dry his fresh out the shower hair

“you can just finish it after the trip,” yunho shrugged, aiming the towel to the side while you heard him mumble that he’d get that later and hurried to raid the refrigerator for orange juice, “need apple by the way,” he voiced while scavenging for a glass

you groaned, scrunching the paper into a ball and throwing it into—missing—the garbage can. “i want to do it now though,” you leaned your head back to watch your brother who looked as if he was a kid on a sugar rush, pouring his juice and grabbing a quick granola bar before slipping on his jacket and shoes while stumbling

“who knows, maybe you’ll find muse there,” he replied with a teasing tone, a kissy face being cut short by you aiming a pencil to his chest, “hey! i’m sensitive, ya know!” exaggerating a few of the words before laughing it off, “but come on, we need to get going, you got your bag?”

you scoffed, “of course i do,” leaning to the side to grab your drawstring bag before standing, “you ready?”

yunho hummed, and that was enough of a response for you. both of you sharing the same mutual thought.

no, the fuck not.

“do you think she’ll like us?” you couldn’t help but ask outloud, kicking a small rock on the ground while you walked alongside your brother up the driveway of your grandma’s house, glancing at yunho who shrugged, hands shoved into his jacket’s pockets

ears red and nose rosy, yunho cleared his throat, “she didn’t even like dad,” he amused, but you saw right through it. he was worried about the same thing.

three knocks on the door were made while you looked around the unfamiliar neighborhood that made you feel small. compared to the small overloaded home you and yunho were raised in, this seemed like a five star resort.

“is she even here?” you asked, and yunho pulled out his phone in a haste, checking the time and dialing a number

“let me check.”

“you mean we came here and you don’t even know if she’s home, yunho?!” you shrieked, your bag falling onto the ground as you found yourself running your fingers through your hair, hands on your head before you sat on the benches that resided on her patio, messing with the strings from your worn out jeans

your eyes scanned the neighborhood while you blocked and muffled out yunho’s ranting and worrying, gaze locking on a guy who had his hair tucked into a beanie and hands stuffed into his pockets while he had a mask covering most of his features. his eyes were pretty, catlike even.

messing with your chipped nail polish, you froze at the sudden turn he had done, eyes locking with yours. the cold winter air suddenly felt like summer heat and you blinked a few times to look at the ground, more-so at your hands that were getting a bit too cold

“okay, key’s under the mat, she’s out grocery shopping,” yunho ended the call and aimed the next conversation with you who nodded in response, standing and dusting yourself off while he kneeled down and lifted the corner of the WELCOME doormat to see a silver key. an extra. thank god.

hearing the click and the door opening, “thank fuck,” yunho muttered before entering, you walked up to the doorway and turned to look at where you remember seeing the pretty stranger

and much to your bittersweet dismay, he wasn’t still looking at you. instead— he was raking up snow from the lawn, this time without his mask and singing under his breath, or at least you assumed with the rhythm of dance he was showing while mouthing something—that, and you noticed the airpods in his ears while he stayed focused on his task.

maybe the temporary stay wouldn’t be too bad.

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taglist (open)

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aangarchy · 9 months

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I binged heartstopper s2 through work yesterday and i have Things To Say but i'll just start with this: i hc that Nick has dyscalculia

Listen when he opened his maths exam and instead of equations or diagrams he saw a bunch of squiggles which messed with his head is such an accurate portrayal of what it's like to do math with dyscalculia. Not as in they actually become squiggles but more as in it feels like you're looking at a foreign language and no matter how hard you try you cannot make sense of it.

Personally i can do simple sums but anything more than that and it just stops making sense. At a certain point you don't even know what you're calculating anymore and you get extremely frustrated with yourself. And when you talk to others about it usually they'll be like "oh yeah i get it i hate math too" but the thing is, i actually enjoy math and it's really satisfying when it works. But for me the issue is that more often than not i end up confused before i can even solve it. I don't hate math i just genuinely can't do it.

Dyscalculia is such an unknown learning disorder. A friend of mine did her thesis on learning and behavioral disorders for youth in prisons, and she made the remark that no matter how hard she looked she could barely find any research papers to use in her thesis on dyscalculia. All of it was dyslexia, adhd and the like. Each time people ask i have to explain what dyscalculia is, and each time they go "oh you don't know your multiplication tables? That's kind of silly" and it truly grinds my gears. This impacts my daily life immensely. A cashier will hand me my change and i just have to trust they're correct because i cannot count that fast. When i ask someone for the time and they just show me their analog watch in response i want to bite their hand off, bonus points if that watch has roman numbers. There's several tasks that take me way longer than it should at work because i get lost in calculating the price for something simple,

Anyway, Nick has dyscalculia 2023 and i will not take no for an answer.

#you know that meme that goes 'this is what it's like to do math homework with your dad'#that was daily life for me #my parents tried to drill the multiplication tables into me and no matter what my brain just would not budge #i don't have analog clocks in my house bc it takes me longer to read them #if you ask me any simple sum and you catch me off guard with it i'll start crying lmaooo #heartstopper #heartstopper s2 #heartstopper spoilers #heartstopper tv #heartstopper netflix #nick nelson #kit connor #alice oseman #osemanverse #hs #netflix #heartstopper season 2

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

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Don't Speak 16

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Happy Wednesday. I didn't have to change this because apparently the last time I updated was also a Wednesday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You look in the mirror, the steam receding to the frame. You look tired. You feel it.

You put away the bottles you used for your bath and try some of the brown sugar moisturizer, hoping it might ease the dry spots left from the friction of your pillow. You cap it and place it in the basket with the rest.

You hang your towel on the rack and flip back the silver tab of the lock. You come out into the hall and nearly trip on your own toes. Andy stands casually against the wall, a dark blue towel folded over one arm, his phone in his other hand as he looks at you over the top.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I hope… hope I didn't take too long…"

"Nah, haven't been waiting long," he smiles and scratches his beard, a few tufts out of place as you hear the coarse graze of his fingertips, "sleep okay?"

You lie, "yes…You?"

"God knows I tried," he shrugs as he stands straight, "pretty shaken by the cops swinging by, you know?"

"Uh, sure," you tuck your lip under your teeth, "sorry–"

"You're not the one who needs to apologize," he waves you off and taps his thumb on the side button of his phone, crossing his arms, a gesture that emphasizes his size. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something before I start the day."

"Oh?" Your brows squiggle together. What have you done wrong now?

"Did you wanna come to the library? I figured if you need to put together a resume for your application I could get together a few resources. It'd be a quiet place to work." He looks almost nervous as you watch his hand squeeze his phone tighter, knuckles white, "we could get some tea down at the cafe, maybe some lunch?"

You consider him and his request. It isn't a bad idea. You don't know where to start with a resume. You only imagine a blank piece of paper, as empty as your life. You try to smile, your cheeks dimpling painfully.

"Okay," you agree.

You don't know you have the courage to say no. It is his house and it's a thoughtful idea. Amber always said you should get out when you feel grey… Amber…

"I'll go get my tablet," you say to chase away your sadness, "thanks, Andy."

"No problem," he takes a breath, relief uncoiling the tension from him. Had he really been so anxious? "You're the one doing me a favour, so thank you."

"I am?"

"Yeah, I won't complain for the company and it'll give me something to look forward to," he moves towards the bathroom door as you sidle out of his way. His hand seems to float over your shoulder just before you elude it. Instead he presses it to the door. "I'll try to hurry."

🕊️

It feels almost surreal to be back at the library. It's a reminder of everything that's happened. All that's changed.

Andy brings you in with him as he opens. You stand at the counter and watch him. He does everything with graceful certainty. It makes you insecure, there's nothing you know how to do so effortlessly.

When the library opens, it remains quiet. Andy gathers a few books for reference and you take them to the basement, wary of getting in his way as the first patrons arrive. You're much more comfortable in the isolated underground.

You claim your usual spot and prop your tablet up in its case sideways. You open a book and delve into the basic formatting of a resume. You type your name at the top but the next line stumps you. Address? What do you put? Andy's? You don't even know it.

You skip that and put your email. Phone number? Yeah, not that either.

You work slowly. Your frustration mounts as you distract yourself with making neat margins and inserting lines over inputting any information. You have nothing to add. No skills, no experience, no value.

You put your head in your hands and take a deep breath. You're overwhelmed by this simple task. How can you expect to have a job? Like Andy and Amber and everyone else. Everything that is so easy for them is almost impossible for you. You are dumb and worthless.

You stay like that for a while, staring at the table, fighting back tears. What are you going to tell Andy? That you're a loser. That all those expectations he has, you can't meet. Maybe you deserve everything you get, maybe Amber didn't deserve the blight of your existence.

"You're here," her voice draws your head up, as if you summoned her with your thoughts.

You blink, not believing she's real. Amber rushes forward and you sit back, staring wide eyed, terrified at her. She winces and stays on the other side of the table.

"What… why are you looking at me like that?" She clasps her hands together, "please, just listen, please," she pulls out the chair and sits, stretching and arm across the table, "I'm not here to argue–"

"How did you find me?"

"It's not that hard, I know you. I'm your sister."

You fold your arms, shrinking down, brow furrowing, heart sinking. Why is she doing this? She's only her to make you feel worse.

"I'm not here to argue, alright? I just want you to hear me."

"You called the police," you accuse.

"You left in the middle of the night," she hisses, "what was I supposed to do? I was scared."

"And so was I," you snap back. "I'm fine…" you look down and spread your hands over the pages, pushing the book flat, "I'm going to get a job."

She pauses and looks down at the book. She leans in and nods.

"That's great," she forces out stuntedly, "I can help if–"

"No," you shake your head.

She sits back and sighs, "what did I do?"

"I told you. I'm not a child."

"I know you aren't, bubba."

"Bubba?! You talk to me like I am."

She seals her lips and swallows your word with another nod. She puts her hands on the table, as if steadying herself.

"Right, I'm not going to talk to you like a child. I'm just going to say what I came to say and you can choose to hear me or not." She takes a breath and sets her jaw, "that man does not want to help you. You can't see it but he doesn't want what's best for you, I do.

"I know you've made your choice but it's the wrong one. I can't change your mind, police said they won't bring you back, but I can at least try to talk some sense into you. You do what you want, be the adult you claim to be, but at the end of the day, you're my sister and you always will be.

"Bubba, if this all goes wrong, when it does, I will be waiting. My door is open. Today, tomorrow, in a week, a year, whenever you need me–"

She shudders as her eyes glisten and she puts her palm to her chest, "please just think about what you're doing."

You drop your chin. Your heart clenches. Amber always sounds right. She's always been there but you just can't go back. It feels cowardly to change your mind just because you have to do things for yourself.

And you just don't believe her. You want to so bad but you see what she's doing. Andy showed you what to look for; she's playing the victim. She hurt you, you didn't hurt her. She couldn't handle you being out of control and now she's panicking.

"Bub…" she utters. You just stare at your lap. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll bring you whatever you want–"

"Hoovering," you whisper, tilting your head up slightly at Amber's confused hum, "it's when a narcissist tries to win back someone they lost. Through spontaneous contact and making empty promises…"

"Bubba, how– I wouldn’t do that."

"I thought you wouldn't… before."

She lingers for a moment. She stands slowly and fixes her purse on her shoulder. She looms over the table and lets out a shallow breath that sounds like a sob.

"You know I'll pick up the phone. I'll be there…" she drags her fingers across the table, "whenever you need me."

She hesitates before she turns to leave. You hear her gulping as she steps between the shelves and steps shuffle out from the staircase.

"Hey, what are you–" Andy's accusation fills the silence, "dove! Are you okay?"

"Shut up," Amber growls, "and don't touch me." You look up as she shoves away his hand on her arm, "I'm leaving…" her voice is sticky with repressed grief, "she won't listen. Are you happy you fucking monster?"

He squares his shoulders and looks at her, glares down his nose, "I'm helping her. Something you never did."

"Fuck yourself. If you hurt her, I will–"

"That won't work. You're not going to stand here and scare her," he snarls, "so go."

They lock in a staredown before Amber elbows past him, marching to the stairs and stopping to look back down at the aisle. You sink down and cover your face. You feel a pit swallowing up. This shouldn't be so hard. None of it. Writing this damn resume or living your own life. It's so hard.

🕊️

You sit in the cafe, watching the street through the window from your seat in the corner. You feel as if you're outside your own body, like you're floating over the pedestrians, watching from some secret tower. You close your eyes and see the blank document etched into your retinas.

The clink of a dish brings your head up. You sit back, limp and barely able to support your own weight. You just feel empty.

Andy sets down a sandwich before you, beside the steaming tea you hadn't touched. He gives a sheepish smile as your eyes bore past him. He sits and places a napkin beside you plate.

Neither the sight or scent of food can stir your appetite. You can't even remember the last time you ate. Last night you pushed around the casserole noodles until he stopped paying attention.

"Looks good," he says as he reaches for his foamy coffee. "I grabbed a little surprise for dessert tonight," he says as he sets his cup down and pats his jacket pocket.

You nod and clear your throat. The simple act hurts.

"Thank you," you force out.

"Well," he hovers his hand over his plate, "dig in. It looks delicious and I'm sure you're starving."

"Uh, sure," you drone and consider the thick sandwich; a croissant stacked with turkey and swiss, a leaf of lettuce and slice of tomato peeking out.

You grab your cup instead and take a swig. You hum, "I didn't even try my tea," you distract him, "how's your coffee?"

"Good, mocha usually isn't my thing but not bad. Gotta try new things, right, dove?"

"Mhmm," you peel away the edge of the lettuce and make yourself nibble it. It tastes awful. Everything is terrible.

"Been a good day, so far, not too busy," he carries on, "how's the resume coming?"

You shrug, "not done…"

He clucks and nods, letting out a long breath. He leans forward and picks up his ham and cheddar on rye. He takes a bite as you tear away some of the croissant and pretend to chew on the end.

"So… guess we should talk," he swallows, "about your sister."

"I don't want to," you whine, "please–"

"I need to know what she said, honey. To protect you. Like last night, hm? When she sent the cops after you like some criminal."

"She was only worried," you rebuff.

"About herself. About making herself feel better by standing on your back," he puts and elbow on the table, lowering his brow in a serious way, "I tell you every day you can do anything, and what did she ever do but tell you not to even try."

You frown. Your heart is in pieces. You don't want to be here. You don't want to be anywhere.

"I'll keep working on my resume," you say, "I'll be done it soon."

He huffs and sniffs at his sandwich before taking another bite. He is silent as he swallows, his gaze weighing on you.

"We can get a box if you wanna take that back with you. No eating in the stacks but just don't let anyone see."

"Thank you, Andy," you say, "I'll be hungry later for sure."

"Mhmm," he taps his foot under the table, letting the silence hang.

You cross your arms and sit back, looking past him to the street again. You wish you had somewhere to be with a briefcase, or were running to catch a bus, you wish you had any purpose but to be a burden.

🕊️

You put the casserole in as Andy mutters to himself and flips through the channels. He says there's some ball game on. You're happy he at least had something to fill the void of your conversations.

You wait in the kitchen. You watch the timer countdown and when it dings you take out the pan. You set it on the counter and scoop out a healthy helping into a plate. You take a fork and knife and rest it on the rim, going to stand in the archway that looks into the front room.

"Do you wanna eat here or at the table?"

Andy looks over, his arm stretched over the back cushion of the grey couch.

"I'll come eat with you," he volunteers as he sits forward.

"No, it's okay. I'm going to lay down… I have a headache."

"A headache? I have advil," his forehead creases with concern.

"Already took something. I think it's going to rain…"

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I… was looking forward to eating together."

"It's okay. Tomorrow," you promise, "please, enjoy and watch your game."

His mouth slants as you approach and put the plate on the coffee table. You feel uneven and wobbly. You just want to sleep until you can't wake up.

"I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow," you step back and hide a yawn behind your hand.

"I hope so," he says, "I'll check on you before I turn in. Just to make sure you're okay."

"You don't have to…"

"I want to," he insists, "you know where to find me if you need anything.'

You slowly back away. You turn and drag your feet to the door. You don't need anything but to be alone.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #don't speak #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #defending jacob #au #library au

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