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#I have spent years getting bullied in school when I was a kid
skykashi · 8 months
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So I just had to turn off the reblogs of the Gai art, it seems like some popular blog reblogged the post with the ridiculous reblog of the baseless accusations that has absolutely no evidence or proof whatsoever and ppl have been reblogging it from them to point me out as the new villain on Tumblr, just because someone think they are too smart for this world and has a built-in AI detection sensors in their brain that they can throw serious accusations like that with literally nothing to back it up except that their Spidey senses are tingling!
I just can't believe how easy it is to destroy someone's reputation and years of hard work in seconds just because someone wanted to, you have no idea how discouraging this whole thing is, to work your butt off to create something just to be met with this at the end, am I supposed to record the process of every artwork I create and post it with my artworks from now on? How am I supposed to keep working on myself and challenge myself to get out of my comfort zone and improve my skills if the second I post something a little different from the usual I get attached like this? You have no idea how hard it is to have to work with such a crappy tablet, how time and effort consuming it is to keep trying to create something pretty on a lagging screen and no pen pressure sensitivity, but I have no choice but to be stubborn and determined enough to just keep trying anyway and spend 10x more time and effort than anyone else because that's what I love to do and it's limiting my creativity so much but I just have to make it work with what I can afford... and then the one time I had enough motivation coming from wanting to create something that will put a smile on my friend's @depressedhatakekakashi face just like they continue to put a smile on my face so I chose to do something different this time for them, something that I don't usually go for because of how extremely hard it will be on a stupid tablet like mine but my appreciation and gratitude for them gave me the push I needed to do it and challenge those limitations even further, not knowing that there's someone lurking in the shadows waiting for a moment like that to destroy all of my hard work.
First, they said "oh, I think it's AI because some parts look pixilated" so I recorded a video showing how things get pixilated when I move them between Adobe Illustrator and Clip Studio Paint and why I'm forced to use both software together for a piece like this so they then say "I don't understand how what you said is relevant" then changed their reason to "because the art style in this piece looks different from your usual art style" and um, my usual art style is meant to look like cartoon and this one is meant to look realistic HOW COULD IT NOT LOOK DIFFERENT?!!!, like I don't understand, am I stuck with only one type of artwork now because that's what I usually do? Am I not allowed to try something new for a change or try to challenge myself or develop my skills? Can someone tell me where I can get a permit to have freedom with my creations? Or am I supposed to just stop trying all together?!!!
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scuderiahoney · 1 month
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Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion part 3
hockey au part 3: a walk in near the park, a surprising team photo, and the semester comes to a close. 6.2k words
warnings: mentions of sports injury, mentions of bullying, alcohol, academic stress, final exams
Oscar has spent a lot of his life on the move. He moved to the US from Australia for high school at a pretty young age, just to try and play hockey. Looking back, it sounds crazy. What’s even crazier is that it actually worked. He’d play for club teams and in leagues and travel absolutely anywhere if it gave him time on the ice. And then he ended up on a college team and stayed put for two years, and honestly, it felt strange.
Over that time, he got good at putting things in boxes. Keeping life organized. Not so much in a sense of clutter and things having a place- his room is a mess, there’s laundry to be done, and his hockey locker is a disaster- but more so in his head. His friendships and relationships get categorized, information filed away, grouped together. Not by importance or value, but by… context. Hockey friends in one box. Family in another. People like coaches and managers and executives in a third. Moving somewhere new always shakes the boxes up.
By late November, though, Oscar’s feeling a little bit more comfortable in his own skin. He’s found his place in the team, he has weekly lunches with teammates, and he’s even made some friends outside of hockey. His old coach, Mark, says that’s a big piece of it. That it’s good to have something other than sport, just in case it all falls apart, or it doesn’t work out. People to fall back on who aren’t just there for hockey.
Oscar wants to say that his teammates would still be friends with him even if he stopped playing, for some reason, but the truth is that he’s been burned by other overly ambitious hockey kids way too often to truly believe it. That’s half the reason he’s on the Timberwolves now, why he left his old school and team behind. Things feel better here. Lando has an old friend who used to play hockey who still hangs around the house sometimes- Max, the other Max. (Oscar doesn’t call him that to his face.) So maybe Lando at least wouldn’t ditch him if he quit.
And then there’s you, too. Oscar’s not quite sure when you went from being an enigma he struggled to place into one of his carefully organized boxes in his head to, well, this.
You’re sitting across from him at the dining table in his house, one finger tracing the words in the textbook in front of you. You have a TimTam in your other hand-you seem to have developed a fondness for them, the same way that Oscar seems to have developed a fondness for you. The late afternoon sun is shining into the room through the sliding glass door and onto you. Oscar shakes his head to try to clear it.
As he does, you groan and drop your face into the textbook with a solid thud- he winces. “I hate physics.”
He holds back a laugh, because he knows you genuinely are frustrated. “Does slamming your face on the words help?”
You shrug. “Maybe, if I just sit here like this, the knowledge will seep into my brain.”
He hums. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works.”
“Right, because you know everything,” you mumble. “Genius man.”
He rolls his eyes and pushes away from the table. “Come on. Time for a break.”
“I don’t need a break, I need to learn…” you sigh and turn your head, pressing your cheek to the book and looking at him with one eye. “What are we studying again?”
Oscar fixes you with a disapproving look and heads towards the front door. He knows you’ll follow. By the time he makes it to the entryway, you’re hot on his heels, watching curiously as he pulls his shoes on.
“Where are you going?” You ask.
“We’re going on a walk,” he says. “Brain break.”
You shrug and nod, reaching for your own shoes as he pulls on a jacket. He tries not to laugh as you struggle to pull them on without untying them. You’re always stubborn like that, it seems. It’s almost painfully endearing. You stand up straight once you have the shoes on and look at him expectantly.
“Where’s your jacket?” He asks.
You shrug and shove your hands into the pockets of your hoodie. Or is it Charles’ hoodie? Oscar swears he’d seen him wearing it just yesterday.
“I didn’t wear one,” you say. Oscar raises his brows, and you roll your eyes. “There’s not even snow on the ground, Piastri.”
“It’s almost December, Bunny” he says flatly, and reaches for another one of his jackets hanging on the hook near the door.
He hands it to you, and stands there, waiting, until you grumble and pull it on. You wear the other guys’ clothing all the time, but he swears you look almost flustered at the offer. Huh. He’s trying desperately to pretend he’s not flustered over it, honestly. Something about you in his clothing makes him blush. He’d felt the same way about the hoodie you’d borrowed at the party.
“You’re just Australian,” you say, nudging your foot against his as if to usher him out the door. “You’re a baby about the cold.”
He doesn’t have much of a comeback to that, so he steps outside, and you follow right along with him. He walks down the steps and takes off down the sidewalk, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. You might be right- he’s a bit of a baby when it comes to cold temperatures- but his breath curls into mist in front of his face and yours does the same, so it really is chilly. The sun paints everything golden- the windows on the buildings, the dead leaves that still cling to a couple trees. Your elbow bumps against his as the two of you walk. He tries to ignore the spark that shoots up his spine at the feeling. You're chatting away about something, someone in one of your classes who’s been annoying you lately. He's found he likes to listen to you talk.
When he turns to take the path through the park next to the athletics building, you stop in your tracks. He turns back, figuring you’ve seen something, but you’re just staring into the park, and at the large building behind it. He frowns.
“Everything alright?” He asks, quietly.
You nod. “I just. D’you think maybe we could walk to that cafe near here? I could really go for a chai latte.”
He nods- a drink does sound good. “Yeah, sure. D’you wanna walk through the park on the way? Won’t be much of a detour.”
The park is nice. It’s one of Oscar’s favorite places on campus. There’s grass and trees and a path that winds around the university’s baseball and soccer fields. But you’re staring at it with a much different feeling, if the look on your face tells him anything.
You shake your head. “No, let’s just…”
You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you take off down the sidewalk, heading away from the park. He’s left to follow in your footsteps, suddenly feeling like he really knows nothing about you at all.
…..
When Oscar thinks of home, now, he thinks of this. Not Australia, or the house, or even his family, really. He thinks of a jersey, a stick in his hand, and the scrape of his skates against the ice. Hockey, for all its cheering fans and yelling opponents and background music, is a strangely quiet sport. Maybe he’s just gotten good at blocking out the noise.
They’re warming up on the ice. He has warm up traditions, now, something he hasn’t had with teammates in years- he and Lando slap each other on the shoulders, and he and George always skate a lap together. It’s not anything huge or elaborate, but it means he’s part of the team, and that’s enough.
Max skates up to him, just at the end of warmup. He nudges his shoulder against Oscar’s through the padding. “Good?”
Oscar had a rough week in practice. It was the kind that would’ve had him benched for a month on his last team. Seb’s been nothing but supportive- constructive criticism was offered, sure, but he’s still on the ice today, so he figures that’s a good sign. He nods and turns to Max. His eyes flicker up into the stands. He shouldn’t know this, but he does- your seat is above Max’s head from this angle, up in the second section, front row. You’re wearing a jersey, probably Lando’s number if he had to guess, and sharing popcorn with Alex’s girlfriend, Lily. He smiles.
“Yeah. Good.” He nods.
Max nods in return, then skates away. Oscar follows.
When he scores later, and ties the game one to one, he looks to the same spot in the stands. Lando hits him on the back, hard, a bit too enthusiastic. You’re standing in front of your seat, arms around Lily, yelling, and he grins. He can’t help it. The smile doesn’t drop from his face for the rest of the game. The rink, the ice, and his teammates may feel like home, but the way you cheer for him feels awfully close to it, too.
At the party afterwards, you pour two shots of tequila and hand one to him. He takes it with a smile, grimaces at the taste, and laughs when you cough. He pats you on the back sympathetically, and when you take his hand two seconds later and drag him towards the beer pong table, he follows happily.
…..
December creeps up on Oscar, and with it, so does final exam week. Suddenly, it’s just… there, bearing down on him. He’s not exactly nervous about most of his exams- he’s prepared well, and though he’d never say it out loud, he’s pretty good at testing. But no matter how well he studies or how much he’s paid attention in class, exams still aren’t exactly fun.
He sees you a lot in the week leading up to it. You’re often in the kitchen, eating snacks with Max, or in the living room, quizzing Charles on vocab, or in Lando’s room taking a nap between classes. You’re stressed. He can tell. He does his best to help in any way he can- when he goes to the store, he picks up your favorite snacks and leaves them on the counter. He helps you study for the physics exam. When he finds you asleep on the couch in his living room on Saturday night, he carefully lays a blanket over you and turns off the lamp. He hopes some of it helps, just a little bit.
The next afternoon, Oscar stands in the lobby of the athletic training building. He and Max had headed over for the afternoon to do a workout together, more to get their minds off exams than anything else. Now he’s in the lobby, waiting for his team captain, and he’s staring. Laser focused. He's making a whole lot of connections all at once. The wheels are turning in his brain, and he’s sure if anyone’s watching him, he looks crazy. He jumps when someone slaps a hand against his shoulder. It’s Max.
“Hey,” his team captain says, shaking him slightly. “You look lost.”
Oscar frowns and turns back to the photo in front of him. Women’s Soccer, a team photo, from what would’ve been his freshman year at his previous school. He’d been looking at the photos while he waited- the lobby is lined with them, and some of them are actually pretty funny. Some of the faces in this one are familiar, people he’s seen in the gym off and on. One, however, had caught his eye.
“Is that who I think it is?” He asks, pointing at the left side of the picture in the third row.
When he turns back to Max, his face has changed. The teasing look is gone, replaced by something solemn and hard set. Max nods and tugs at his shoulder.
“Wait,” Oscar says, trying to stay planted while Max tries to drag him away. “But she-“
Max crosses his arms over his chest and studies Oscar, brows furrowed. “I know. It’s not my story to tell, yeah?”
Oscar nods dumbly. Max nods in response. Then he nods his head towards the door, as if he’s directing Oscar to follow him. He does, because he’s not sure what else to do, and he’s not going to get any more information from the photo. He knows what he saw, anyways. You, standing there with the whole team, in uniform, your name listed below the photo with the rest of your teammates.
If there’s one thing the Timberwolves do better than hockey, it’s soccer. The women’s team has been national champions multiple times. A spot on that team isn’t something someone gives up willingly. But you’re not on the team, not anymore. When Lando asked if you wanted to go to the gym with them, you’d replied that you “wouldn’t be caught dead at the athletic training building.” And you’d avoided the athletic park like the plague.
Max turns to him as they walk out of the building, and the confusion must still be evident on his face, because Max swears under his breath in some other language. Oscar’s too lost in thought to even wonder what language it is, exactly.
“Look, just-“ Max pinches the bridge of his nose. “Trust me, she’ll talk about it when she wants to.”
“Okay,” Oscar nods. “But, like, is she… okay?”
Max gives him a sad smile. “Yeah.”
Oscar hears the silent part in his head. She is now.
They walk home together in near silence. Oscar doesn’t know what to say. He’s sure Max doesn’t, either. When they get to the house, Alex is coming down the front steps, the door still open behind him. Oscar sees your boots in the entryway, your coat hanging on the hook. Alex ruffles his hair as he walks past, and Oscar ducks before he turns to Max.
“Don’t tell her?” He asks, and Max looks sheepish, like that was the exact thing he was about to do. “I mean. If you think she needs to know I saw it, then… sure. But I don’t want her to feel pressured to talk to me about it.”
Max wrinkles his nose and nods. “Okay. For now.”
Oscar nods. They’re in agreement, then. He walks in through the front door and he can hear you and Lando in the kitchen, singing along to whatever song is playing from the speaker. It’s family dinner night. Oscar tries to put the thoughts of you in a soccer team portrait out of his head.
He sits next to you at dinner as you pick at your food. It’s one of your favorite meals, but your appetite seems low. It has him feeling concerned. Max, on your other side, nudges you. Oscar watches the two of you have a quiet conversation and wishes he knew what you were feeling. You finally take a couple bites, and he tries not to show how relieved he is about it.
One by one, everyone wanders off to study and get ready for the week ahead. You stay sitting at the table, though. Oscar clears some plates and comes back to find you, a couple TimTams in hand. You take them with a soft smile.
“You alright?” He asks, quietly.
You nod. “Stressed.”
Oscar nods. “Anything I can do to help?”
You twist your mouth. “Probably not. I should really just go home.”
You don’t make any moves to get up. He sighs and sits down next to you. You drum your fingers on the worn wooden tabletop and set the cookies down next to your plate. You’re chewing on your lower lip, and you close your eyes and let out a breath through your nose.
“It’s like… my brain just won’t stop going,” you say. “Like everything I’ve read is just tumbling around in there and I don’t know how to make it stop.”
“Objects in motion tend to stay in motion,” Oscar says, and you groan.
“Do not use physics metaphors on me right now,” you say, and when he starts laughing, you dissolve into giggles, too. “Gross.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he says, smiling sheepishly when you turn to look at him. “Why don’t I make some tea, and we can put it in travel mugs, and I’ll walk you home?”
A soft smile slips across your face. “That sounds really nice.”
He makes the tea exactly how both of you like it, pours it into the mugs, and ushers you towards the front door. You stop in the living room to say goodbye to Lando, who ruffles your hair, and Max, who holds onto your arm and says something to you, so quietly that you’re the only one who’ll hear it. Then Oscar heads outside, and you follow. It’s slightly dark, and chilly, but you’ve brought a jacket this time. You wrap both hands around the mug as you walk, a habit of yours that Oscar finds awfully endearing. The streetlights glow bright above your heads.
The walk is mostly silent. He reaches the entrance to the park, and on reflex again, he slows and turns to head down the path. You stop in your tracks and let out a pained little noise. Oscar’s stomach rolls. In the distance, the soccer field is lit up bright with floodlights. Something must’ve happened, to keep you from playing. You’d been good enough to be on the team. Something had changed. He turns and takes a step to continue down the sidewalk, but you stay planted there, staring. He pauses, holding his breath. It’s just the two of you, under the streetlamps, feet on the sidewalk.
“I used to play soccer,” you say, quietly, and his pulse jumps.
She’ll tell you when she’s ready. He hadn’t expected it to be so soon. He bites his lip and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket. You’re still staring out over the park, so he turns to stare, too. He feels you lean your shoulder against his, like you’re looking for support, and he leans into it, just to show he’s there.
“I got signed to play as a senior in high school,” you explain. “And, not to brag, but I was really good. Went through summer training camp and made friends with my teammates and got here and… then I fell just the right way at practice, or the wrong way, I guess,” you say, grimacing. “Fucked up my knee. I had to have surgery, twice, and even then, they pretty much told me I was done. That it would never heal right.”
Oscar’s heart sinks. His chest feels tight. He thinks of you, on the couch in the living room when he woke up feeling off and asked you to go on a run, how you’d said you’d messed up your knee. He thinks of Max and the concerned way he always watches you climb the stairs in the stands at the rink. He thinks of you, younger, like the picture in the athletics building, on the field, in pain. He feels sick to his stomach.
“And my teammates… they didn’t know how to act, I think. They didn’t know how to help, so they just didn’t try. So, suddenly I was no longer a soccer player, and I was alone, and…” you sigh. Oscar turns to face you, and he thinks there are tears in your eyes. “And then I met Lando, and the rest of the team, and the rest is history. But… there are some things that still get to me. The field… it holds a lot of bad memories, you know? And when I’m stressed like this it all comes flooding back.”
He nods. You’re not looking at him, even as he watches a tear roll down your cheek. He wants to reach out and wipe it away, but he wonders if that would be a step too far. He pulls his hands from his pockets. You swipe a hand against your cheeks and clear the tears, and then let your own hands hang at your sides. He takes a steadying breath, steels himself, and links his fingers with yours- casually, lightly, gently holding on. You squeeze his hand in reply- a thank you, he thinks. He does the same in return.
“Did Max tell you why I left my old school?” He asks, quietly.
“No,” you answer, voice low and tentative. “Max doesn’t tell people stuff like that.”
He shrugs, though he supposes that makes sense- he’d refused to tell Oscar what had happened to you. Max seems loyal like that. Oscar rolls a pebble beneath his shoe and listens to your breathing to remind himself you’re still there. He wants you to know this. Wants to share. Wants you to know he understands, at least a little bit.
“I got scouted by them my senior year,” he starts, closing his eyes. Like this, he’s almost right back in it. “And I was really excited. And then I got there and… the guys on the team were awful. I didn’t get any playing time, and they’d all been friends since they were kids, and I felt like such an outsider.” He kicks the pebble down the path lightly. “By the time my sophomore year rolled around, I hated it. I hated hockey. I’d spent my whole life doing nothing but that but I dreaded every practice. I was…”
He huffs. Squeezes his eyes shut tighter. He can feel the hits from his own teammates at practice. Can feel that same empty, lonely feeling sitting at the end of the bench. He can taste the blood in his mouth when he tried to stand up for himself and the team captain shoved him and the coach did nothing.
“It was fucked,” he says. He hates the way his voice wobbles. “So I quit. I walked out. I was done with hockey. I couldn’t even go near the rink for months.”
“But you’re here now,” you say, quietly.
He nods sharply. “I had this old coach- his name’s Mark. Showed up on his doorstep and told him the whole thing. He and Seb used to be teammates. So he got me a tryout. I refused, at first. And then Seb sent Max to come talk to me.”
He remembers that, clear as day, too. Max, bright and smiling, at his dorm room door. He knew who Max was, he had looked up to him for years. Max had walked in, planted himself on the floor in the room, and hadn’t left until Oscar changed his mind.
“I spent the summer training back home. Found my love for it again,” he explains. “But it wasn’t easy. I think I’m still working on it, sometimes.”
You hum next to him. You squeeze his hand again. His breath hitches. Your skin is warm against his. It makes his chest ache. He hadn’t known who he was without his sport. He thinks maybe you know that feeling better than anyone else.
“I’m sorry you got hurt,” he says into the night air. “And I know you must’ve heard it a billion times, and that I don’t really understand what it’s like to have it taken away like that. But…”
“But you get it,” you say, voice rough around the edges. “The lonely feeling.”
He nods and swallows against the lump in his throat. “And thank you. For making things less lonely here.”
“I’m sorry if I was too much,” you answer.
He just shakes his head. “I’m sorry I was so… stuck.”
You’re quiet for a few moments, before you squeeze his hand again. “Come on, let’s go on a walk.”
You knit your fingers with his, properly, and Oscar expects you to start down the sidewalk again. You don’t. Instead, your feet carry you down the path through the park. He understands now, that this place must hold awful memories. Reminders of what was supposed to be, what was taken away. You’re trusting him with this. It sits heavy on his shoulders.
He doesn’t push, doesn’t ask more questions. When you walk past the soccer field, he turns to sneak a glance at your face. There’s sadness in your eyes, but a smile on your lips. There’s a strength, there, too, that he finds starkly beautiful. You hold onto him tightly, and together, you make it through the park, all the way to your apartment.
He leaves you at the door with a quiet goodnight and a promise to see each other the next day for the regular study session. The exam is on Tuesday, so it’ll be his last excuse to spend time with you like that. He walks home in silence, through the park, and tries not to stare at the soccer goal. That night, he dreams of soccer fields and hockey rinks and you.
…..
When Oscar gets home just before your normal study time the next day, there’s music pouring out of the front door before he even opens it. It’s louder once he does. The house seems mostly empty, but someone is either having a very good or very bad day. He wavers in the doorway, wondering if he should call you. He’s still there when you walk in behind him, bumping into his shoulder. He turns to look at you, eyes wide. Yours are even wider.
“I don’t think we can study here,” he says, frowning.
You shake your head. “We can go to my place.”
So he packs up his things into his backpack, avoiding whatever is going on in Charles’ room that has him causing permanent damage to his eardrums. Then the two of you take off down the street, towards your apartment. He slows only slightly at the turn for the park, waiting to see what you’ll do. You turn down the path through the park and loop your arm in his. He looks away in the hopes that you don’t see the smile that creeps across his face.
Your apartment is, honestly, exactly how he’d always pictured it. It’s soft and cozy and colorful. There’s a well loved, overstuffed couch in the living room, a little table in the kitchen, and so much stuff on the walls. Music posters, photos blown up big, and… collages. Some in frames, some tacked up with tape, scattered across the place. Perfect mixtures of magazine cutouts and pieces of paper and he swears he even spots a dried flower on one.
“Wow,” he says, studying the one that hangs over the couch. “These are so cool.”
You’re in the kitchen, grabbing a snack, and you turn over your shoulder. “Oh. Thanks. I made a lot of them when I was injured. I had nothing better to do, yknow?”
He sees a chunk of an x-ray in the corner of the piece, and his heart twists. You walk up next to him, shoulder to shoulder. When he looks at you, you’re smiling softly. He likes that look on your face. He wants to keep it there, and suddenly he dreads studying physics because he knows how stressed you’re going to be.
“We’ll have to make some sometime,” you say, nudging your elbow against his. “There’s a billion hockey magazines in a closet at your house.”
“I don’t have an artistic bone in my body,” he says.
You laugh. “That’s the fun of collages. You don’t have to.”
He settles in on one end of the couch, and you settle into the other. The soft light of the lamp in the living room makes it feel warm, the same way your hand in his had felt the day before. He tries so, so hard to focus on physics. It’s just… he’s in your apartment, and you’re there, knees curled to your chest, brow furrowed in concentration, and… something about this feels so soft.
He clears his throat, opens his textbook, and flips to the review questions. “Alright. Ready?”
The two of you study for hours. Oscar doesn’t know when it happens, but at some point you move closer, so you can look off the same textbook. Physics terms and formulas and theories rattle around in his brain, all wrapped up with thoughts of you. The sun goes down, and the windows to the outside grow dark. He doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay right here.
“My brain is full,” you mumble, between a yawn.
You drop your head against his shoulder, and his heart pounds in his chest. He shouldn’t be feeling like this, he knows it. You’re just tired, that’s all.
He nods in agreement. “Mine too. I can go home. We should get a good night’s sleep.”
You nod against his shoulder and then make no move to pull away. “In a minute,” you say. “Your arm is comfy.”
Butterflies- actual, real life butterflies, he swears it- swirl in his stomach. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s seen you fall asleep on Charles’ shoulder during movie nights, watched you curl up on Max’s bed and take a nap while everyone around you talked. He’s just another friend, another shoulder to lean on. This doesn’t mean anything, and besides, it shouldn’t mean anything, so why is his stomach swirling with butterflies, and why does his face feel hot?
When you finally pull away and help him pack up his things, he hopes you can’t tell how he’s feeling. You walk him to the door and wait for him to put on his shoes and jacket. It’s just so you can lock it behind him, he knows. But then you reach up and smooth the hair from his forehead and laugh, and his chest aches fiercely, and god, he could kiss you- not even really kiss you, just on the forehead or the cheek would do. He says goodnight instead and steps out into the hallway, then makes his feet carry him down the stairs and out to the sidewalk.
He walks past the soccer field and finds himself hoping that maybe you felt it too.
He gets up early the next morning and finds Max in the kitchen with coffee ready to go. He grabs two travel mugs- his, and yours. Max raises an eyebrow as he spreads cream cheese on a bagel. Oscar does the same in response.
“You were out late last night,” Max says, eyeing him.
He doesn’t bother asking how Max knows when he got back. He feels like it’s written plainly all over his face. He can feel the weight of you against his shoulder. Can feel your hand brushing his hair from his face. Can feel how much he wants to lean in. Max must see it.
“I was studying,” he says, carefully.
“With Bunny,” Max suggests, and Oscar nods. “But not here.”
“No, we got here and Charles was blasting music,” Oscar explains. “So we went to her place.”
“He failed an exam,” Max says, face scrunched up. “Well. He assumes he did. You know Charles.”
Oscar nods. Max is staring at him as he pours hot coffee into mugs. He’s not sure what the team captain is looking for, but he hopes he doesn’t find it.
“She told you,” he says, quietly, and Oscar looks up from the mugs, nearly spilling coffee all over.
He clears his throat. “Yeah.”
Max nods and finally turns back to his bagel. “Good.”
That’s that, then. He puts the lids on the coffee, and Max sends him out the door with two bagels- one for him, one for you. He almost feels like he’s passed some sort of test when Max gives him a sharp nod as he turns to leave, but he’s not sure which test it would even be.
He finds you in the lobby before the exam, hands off the coffee and the bagel and tells you he knows you’re going to do well. You smile brightly at him, and he swears it lights up the whole building.
“We’ve got this,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “And if we don’t, we’ll retake it together.”
He nods in agreement. The two of you sit on a bench and eat your bagels and drink your coffee. Oscar wishes he could attribute the warmth in his belly to the drink, but he’s pretty sure it has more to do with the way you smile up at him and the weight of your shoulder against his. Either way, it sends him into the exam with a good feeling, and that’s really all he can ask for.
…..
Oscar finds himself feeling sad when the holiday break rolls around this year. It’s a weird feeling. For years, he’s looked forward to December for this reason. The exams are over, he gets time off from school, a chance to go home or have his family visit, and a break from everything. He realizes, as he’s staring up at the ceiling, listening to Lando lugging a suitcase around, that he’s going to miss his friends when they leave for the break. It’s been two years since the last time he called his teammates friends.
He drags himself out of bed and into the hallway, because if Lando’s leaving, he wants to say goodbye. And sure enough, there he is, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and taking an enormous suitcase down the stairs one step at a time. Oscar spots you on the ground floor, watching in amusement, and he waves at you.
“Morning, Oscar,” you call out. “Ready for the break?”
He scrubs a hand through his hair and shrugs. “Yeah.”
You raise your brows. “That was convincing,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your lips.
He bites back a laugh, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of having called him out. “It’ll be nice to see my family. Just weird to have everyone gone, yknow?”
Lando, who’s made it down three stairs, turns to look at him. “Aw, he’s gonna miss us!” He coos, and Oscar feels his face go red.
Before he can jump to his own defense or try to come up with something to tease Lando about, you speak up from the bottom of the steps.
“Yeah, and we’re gonna miss him, Lando,” you say, shaking your head. “Jesus. Oscar, would you just shove him and the giant suitcase down the steps?”
Oscar’s trying not to dwell on you saying you’ll miss him, too. It shouldn’t affect him nearly as much as it does right now. It makes his stomach twist. He keeps the smile plastered on his face and forces a laugh, and Lando glares at him as menacingly as Lando can glare at anyone. He brushes off the feeling and grabs the side handle of Lando’s suitcase, then helps him lug it down the stairs. Lando shoots him a smile to replace the glare as they get it to the bottom floor. Then he pats him on the shoulder and ruffles his hair. Oscar winces.
“Bye, Piastri,” he says, grinning. “Have a good break.”
He pulls the giant suitcase towards the front door. You stay standing there, even as Lando steps outside and sighs at the sight of the front steps. Oscar steps off the staircase and lands near you, arms swinging at his sides.
“You’re staying here all break, right?” You ask.
He nods. “My family will be here Monday, though.”
“Nice,” you say, smiling wide. “Well. I bought more TimTams and Vegemite, so they should feel right at home.”
Warmth bubbles up in Oscar’s chest. “Thanks.”
You nod. The two of you stand there for a few seconds, and he wonders if you’re holding your breath, too. You shift back and forth on your feet, and then before he knows it, you’re against his chest, arms around him. He barely has time to hug you back before you pull away, and that’s the only bad part about it. He would hold you forever, if he could, he thinks. And honestly, that’s terrifying.
You pull away, and he hopes you don’t notice how red his cheeks are. “Bye, Oscar,” you say, almost shyly.
“Bye, Bunny,” he says back.
Lando calls your name from the front door, and you scurry off. He sighs. He swears he can still smell your shampoo, and then hates himself for knowing what your shampoo even smells like. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and turns back towards the stairs, ready to head back to his room, crawl back into bed, and go back to sleep. He jumps in shock when he finds Alex and George standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing.
“That was interesting, wasn’t it, Alex,” George says.
“Quite interesting, I’d say,” Alex nods, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
Oscar rolls his eyes and takes the stairs two at a time. “You guys are creepy.”
They both just laugh as Oscar pushes past them and into his room. He shuts the door behind him, flops down onto the bed face first, and closes his eyes. Outside, he hears Logan’s car start up- the guy really needs to get the thing fixed, it’s loud as hell, but at least it still runs. He closes his eyes and reminds himself that it’ll only be a few weeks until you’re back in town. Then he wonders when having you around became so important to him. He rolls over, buries his face in the pillow, and goes to sleep.
notes: a lil osc pov!! thank you for reading! check out the winter break blurb, or find part 4 here!
tags: to be added or removed just let me know!! crossed out names were unable to be tagged- if it’s yours, shoot me a message!
main taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5
series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @verstoppenheimer @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @coolmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @avg-golden-retriever @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofswordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom
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stevesbipanic · 1 year
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Eddie sometimes went quiet.
Wayne noticed it after Eddie moved in. He didn't do it as much when he was little and Mary would bring him round, but here he was at ten years old completely silent. When Eddie was little Wayne assumed the boy was just shy, but now that he lived with Eddie he knew that sometimes a whole week would pass with not a peep from the young boy. M
The doctor said it might be a trauma response, might just be something he would do from time to time, either way, Eddie Munson, one of the loudest and dramatic kids Wayne had ever met would still be him, just nonverbal. They worked with a notebook but sometimes Eddie would get frustrated he wasn't being answered fast enough and they were running out of paper.
It was Wayne's buddy from work that presented a solution. "Have you tried sign language? My son was born deaf and Susan and I went to night classes so we could talk to the kid." So that's exactly what Wayne did, he moved his shifts to the day and spent his nights at the school learning to talk to his boy. On his days off he'd show Eddie what he'd learnt and slowly they were able to bridge the gap that the silence presented.
The silent days didn't stop as he grew older, his teachers didn't really understand and sometimes he'd end up in detention with a note saying he was being disrespectful. His friends understood though and enthusiastically asked Eddie to teach them sign language, they'd use it even when Eddie was happily chatting with them, they liked that they shared a 'secret' language from the bullies.
He hadn't had any silent days since Vecna, which Eddie thought was a miracle in itself given the circumstances. However, he woke up a couple months after spring break knowing what kind of day it was going to be. He felt frustrated with himself, he was supposed to be hanging out with Steve and Robin today and was worried with how they'd take it, especially Steve. They'd been dancing around each other's feelings lately and he didn't want to ruin everything before it even started. Resigned he grabbed a notebook and pen and headed to Family Video.
He'd spent ten minutes psyching himself up in the parking lot before heading inside, note written and ready explaining that no it wasn't anything Upside Down related, he just wouldn't be speaking today. The door's bell rings in his ear as he stops suddenly staring at the scene before him. Steve and Robin were, quite rapidly, signing at each other. Steve turns at the bell, smiling at Eddie.
"Eddie!"
Still in a bit of shock, Eddie signs on instinct, "You know sign?"
Steve has the same look of shock now, before his face breaks into an even bigger smile and signs back, "You know sign! You know sign, how, why?"
His hands are faster than his brain as he explains how he goes quiet sometimes, and Wayne and night classes and Hellfire before asking Steve how he and Robin know sign.
Steve looks bashful as he signs back, "Um, after Starcourt my hearing started to go, so Robin, ever the linguist, insisted we learn, which was actually very smart of her. I can still kinda hear but I get by mainly on lip reading."
Things started to make sense now to Eddie, how sometimes Steve seemed to just nod and smile at whatever the kids were saying, or would need things repeated to him. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why didn't you tell me about going nonverbal? Robbie has days like that too."
"Didn't want you to think I was weird."
"I like that you're weird, I like you, Eds."
Eddie blushes at what he interprets is his sign name from Steve, the letter E and the sign for love combined.
"I like you too, Stevie." Eddie signs, the letter S mixed with the sign for heart.
Eddie may still have his silent days, but now he shares them with Steve, and they can sign the things he's not allowed to say out loud, making sure they both know they're loved.
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leaawrites · 2 months
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It's nice to have a friend
Percy Jackson x mortal fem!reader
Warnings: use of Y/n, mentions of almost dying, Percy's stupid at some points, friends to lovers
Summary: Percy can't let your hands freeze to death, only because he had to make you lose yours in the first place.
Masterlist
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Looking out the window Y/n saw the frozen water falling down from above. Their heritage, the clouds, were a dark color of white, however the snow didn’t make the scene dark, it made it comfortable. It gave her a type of warm hug, a feeling she couldn’t forget. A feeling she wanted to save for the warm summer days, the same as she saves the sun for rainy days, and the rain for when the flowers bloom.
The bell rang, signaling that the lesson, and the school day therefor, was over. Y/n sighned, she did want to walk through the streets covered in snow, but her hands would freeze to death in the meantime, since she lost her gloves a year before.
With her hands in the pockets of her coat and her gaze on the floor, watching the snow squish under her boots, while new one fell onto them, she concentrated on the music in her ears. Only looking up when she heard child’s laughter. On the other side of the sidewalk, 4 kids were having a snowball fight, laughing together when one gets hit by the snow. Y/n stopped, admiring the fun in their eyes.
“You wanna join them?” A voice beside her asked.Turning around, she saw her best friend, Percy.
She would still concider him her best friend, even when he started to ditch her every summer for some summer camp he couldn't tell her too much about. She liked the boy, she really did. But something about his behavior when she asked him about it didn't sit right with her. It was like he didn’t want her to know. Before this, Percy would've told her everything. No matter what, she used to always be the first to know. Whether it be about a new school he was sent to or someone that bullied him on that day. It was always her. Now it were his new friends.
She tried to tell herself that it was because Percy wanted to leave some of his old life behind whenever he went to summer camp. Like it were two seperate worlds. But she knew that Grover, another friend of Percy's, was also there.
"I can’t," she answered. "I lost my gloves last year, after you had to take me to one of those." She pointed to the kids, smilling at the memory of back then.
“Oh, yeah.” He remembered, laughing at the memory as well.
Both of them were prepared to make the other go down and suffer in the snow that day a year ago. It was a simple and nice idea, until Percy decided he had to help a duck on the lake. At that time he hadn’t had snow gloves himself, so he borrowed Y/n’s.
Long story short, the duck ended up almost drowning, together with Percy, but could rescue itself, while the gloves were sliding from Percy’s hands and fell into the freezing water. He hadn’t bought her new one’s, he insisted on doing so, but she refused to accept them when he got them for her. She didn’t want him to spent his money on her, so she said she would buy new one’s herself. Since it was technically her own fault for giving them to him, when she knew they wouldn’t end up on her own pair of hands anyway. However, she forgot until it was too late.
"You almost died that day, how can you laugh about it?" She asked the pale boy. With the white snow surrounding him he fit right into it.
"t was a fun day, you can’t deny it, can you?" He asked her, searching for the comformation he always craved from her. He wanted her to agree with him in everything, so that he knew that they were still balancing on the same thin line like before all the sudden changes in his life.
Spending time with her always kind of made him feel more at ease. She was his home. She was who he was so used to, he could tell her everything. Besides about camp and his now second life. It was too dangerous. So, he keot it to himself. Rather have her angry than dead, right?
"It was a fun day," she agreed, stuffing her hands further into her pockets from the cold temperatures.
"Have mine," Percy said, holding his gloves into her direction, after seeing her shaking body.
"No, thanks,” she said, continuing walking home. "I’m not even that cold."
But the chattering of her teeth betrayed her and Percy looked at her with a dumbfounded expression.
"Then have one at least," he tried to compromise, looking into her eyes with that certain look. Raising his eyebrows, Percy moved the glove more to her body, until she couldn’t refuse to take it anymore. Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she put the black glove over her freezing hand. Feeling the warm of his hand from before, made an slight blush creep up on her face. Which she played off from the cold.
"What is with the other, genuis?" she asked. She didn’t want a second glove but a conversation.
He only took her hand into his, beginning to walk again, not looking at her once. Her face grew even hotter and her body was filling with warmth as their bare freezing skin touched and exchanged body heat. Both were burning from the desire of this being more than a friendly encounter.
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lovelybrooke · 3 months
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What’s up with MC? (Platonic yandere Hazbin Hotel immortal au)
So I've really wanted to write some stuff about reader and their life. I hope this helps you guys understand them a little bit more. This doesn't have much to do with Hazbin Hotel, but hopefully you still enjoy.
Trigger Warning for: Very bad/neglectful parenting, disassociation, talks of regretting a child, bullying, please tell me if I need to include anything else.
masterlist
---
You were born a very small and loud baby. You cried and cried, even after your mother took you into her arms and laid you down on her chest. Even when your father took you for a few seconds so he could hand you to the nurse. And even when she rolled you down the hallways of the hospital to get your test done. It wasn't until you cried yourself asleep that it was finally quiet.
Life wasn't always so bad, back when your dad was around and your mom wasn't a drunk. Your father worked at a family pharmacy, had good hours and was home before dinner. Your mother stayed at home taking care of you. She would make you lunch, play games with you, and would even rent movies from the library to watch with you. In your childlike eyes, life was perfect.
Things weren't perfect though. In reality, your mother got pregnant young, forcing her to marry your father when she was 20. In her young, 20 year old mind, she thought she loved your father and he thought he loved her. So getting married seemed like the next step when she realized she was pregnant. And she loved you, she loved your smooth skin, she loved giving you baths, and dressing you up. But she didn't like the crying, and the sick days, and the clinginess. She hated having to be the one to deal with all those things while your father was at work. And when he was at home, he wasn't a help either. He was distant, they never talked or loved each other like they did when they were teens.
Your mother started drinking when you were three. It started off with wine at dinner, then at lunch and dinner, then at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Eventually, she started picking you up from Pre K drunk, the other moms could smell it on her. One mom told an admin who told the principal who told your mom that another parent would need to pick you up. You could faintly remember the fight your mom had in the parking lot and then with your father at the dining room table. Whenever your mom got like that, you imagined that you weren't yourself, instead you were a character in one of the books your mom used to read to you. It helped.
As your mom got worse, your father slowly stopped showing up. He said he had more work, his boss was getting older so he had to pick up the slack. When he was home, he was distant and cold. He never wanted to play with you, he treated you less like his child and more like an associate. As you got older you knew it was because he didn't want this life, he didn't like his 9 to 5, and he didn't like coming home to a drunk wife and a child he never desired to have. And when he stopped showing up, a part of you, even though you barely knew him, was relieved. It meant less fights, less loud yelling, and less time spent inside your own head.
You were a quiet kid all throughout school. You never were good at making friends, but it wasn't something that bothered you. With your dad gone, money got tight, and when you were seven, your mom started working at your local supermarket. It wasn't great, but it was better than having no money. That's also when she started smoking. You stopping kissing her goodnight because she smelt like cigarets. You felt bad, but she didn't seem to care.
When you were eight, you were trying to climb a tree in your backyard when you fell, breaking both of your legs in the process. You laid there until the bright blue sky became black, eventually falling asleep and having the strangest dream. Your mother didn't find you until the next morning, your cries being drown out by the beers and t.v. She took you the hospital where you were apparently fine.
When you were ten your father called the house. It was a Saturday meaning your mom would sleep in, and when you picked up the phone, you heard a voice you didn't know. It was old, manly, and angry. He was shouting something about money and credit cards, and when you hung up, he called again, and again, and again, until eventually your mother woke up. They argued for hours and when they were finished, your mother told you not to answer the phone again, so you didn't.
When you got to middle school you experienced bullying for the first time. A girl in your 3rd period made fun of your clothes, which your mother found at the thrift store. You never realized that you wore the same clothes every day until then, and so when you got home you learned how to use the washing machine. From that day on you did the laundry in your house, and when your mother suggest you make dinner, you did that too. It eventually became a routine, you'd go to school, your mom went to work, you'd get home and clean the house, do laundry, and make dinner, all while you mom watched t.v. It never bothered you, because if you didn't do it, who would.
The bullying didn't stop, even into high school. You were the poor kid with a drunk mom and an absentee father, you were the prime subject for bullying. It was never anything big, the occasional teasing and mocking, especially on days when your mother would pick you up. It was embarrassing, to have her yell at you from her old, beat up truck. Or when she'd smoke in the school parking lot. Or when she rant to you about work and get mad when you interjected. You got better as you got older ignoring it, ignore her, ignoring the way she made you feel.
When kids would talk about your dad, you'd make up a different person in your head since you never remembered who he was. You imagined him as a prince, handsome and knightly. You imagined dancing with him, him kissing you on the forehead before you went to sleep, and him telling you he loved you. You guessed that was the great thing about having a deadbeat dad, he can just kinda be whoever you wanted, even if it wasn't real.
When you were 15, you were working on a project after school when your mom forgot to pick you up. You were forced to walk home from school, alone, in the cold, when a car swerved your way and you fell unconscious. You were having the craziest dream until you woke up, in your bed, your mom asleep in the living room, game shows playing loudly on the t.v.
You stopped relying on your mother for anything after that. You stopped expecting her to help you, stopped expecting her to pick you up from school, or to even pay your bills. You got a job and started contributing what you could so you could keep the lights on. You knew it wasn't right, that this isn't how a parent should act. But she was still your mom, she still loved you, right? If not, then what was all this for.
---
A/n: I think I made readers life too tragic, sorry. Parts of this were based on my own experiences growing up but nothing this bad, so feel free to tell you what you think.
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imtryingbuck · 3 months
Text
Eleven
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.
Word count: 2,511
Warnings: fluff, angst, heavy use of pet names, nothing to major I don’t think.
A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.
Masterlist   Series Masterlist
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“I would like to adopt her”
~~~
It’s been nearly four years since Y/n was adopted by Howard and his wife Maria at first she was confused about what was happening when she had to leave Bucky’s home and go with Howard.
The couple already had a son named Tony who was ten at the time, at first he was distant with her until he heard crying during the night, he listened out to see if his mother or father would go and check on her upon hearing nothing more other than her whimpers he climbed out of his bed and made his way into her room.
“It’s okay you’re having a bad dream. Wake up Y/n.” He stayed with her until she fell back to sleep, softly stroking her hair as he read her the bed time story his mother was reading to her earlier that night.
Tony grew to be overprotective of his little sister.
He didn’t care about starting fights when he heard she was being bullied at school, glaring at those who stared at bit to long for his liking. Though he would never admit to it but he was actually jealous of Y/n’s friendship with Bucky and Steve, especially with Bucky.
Her first Christmas spent with the Starks was magical to her; the huge Christmas tree, the pretty lights, the food and the presents. So, so many presents.
As the years passed Howard and Maria watched proudly as Y/n came more and more out of her shell, became independent. They found out that she was quite a cheeky little girl cheeky monkey Howard called her, she would always stick her tongue out at him after he called her that. Maria loved it when Y/n would sit in between her legs and toss her hair back a silent way of asking her to play with her hair. They loved her equally as much as they loved Tony. 
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“Ducky get back here!” She screamed.
“No!”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to hit me!”
“No I’m not I promise” liar liar pants on fire she sang to herself.
Bucky stopped running slowly turning to face her with his eyes squinting. “Bunny I told you I know when your lying”
“Ducky.” Her hands going to her hips as she cocks her hip to the side just like she had seen her momma do “I’m not lying I swear it, just come here”
“Say please”
“Please”
“Say Bucky’s amazing”
“Bucky’s amazing”
“Now say I love Bucky so so so much”
“Eww I’m not saying that!”
“Then I won’t come to yo-“
“I love Bucky so so so much. Happy?”
“Yep” Bucky grinned as he walked over stopping in front of her “ow ow, Bunny stop! You said you wouldn’t hit me!” He cries out.
“You. Pushed. Me. Over. In. The. Mud!” She says smacking him.
“It was funny”
“Was not! Now I’m dirty and momma won’t like it”
“Aww. But it was funny though you have to admit”
It…it kind of was.
“It’s not funny and you have no right in touching her” Tony says loudly walking over from where he was sitting.
“I-I…we were just playing”
“We were just playing” Tony mocks “you could have really hurt her”
“I would never hurt Bunny”
“Her names Y/n. Repeat after me Y/n”
“I know what her name is Tony”
“Well stop calling her that ridiculous name-“
“Hey! I like when he calls me Bunny, Tone why are you being mean for?”
“He should be hanging out with kids his own age”
“I’m a year older than her…”
Tony stands there and raises an eyebrow, glancing around the yard he pulls out a cigarette out of its packet “I don’t care stop hanging around my sister”
“You’re not allowed to smoke! Momma said it’s bad”
“Like I care! You” he points at Bucky “don’t talk to my sister ever aga-“
“Shut up Tony, he’s my friend”
“You’ll stay away from him Y/n/n” 
Making a show of herself getting closer to Bucky she took his hand in hers “No. You don’t get to tell me what to do!”
“Listen here you little brat you’ll do as-“
“Ducky…”
“Yeah”
“Run!”
“Get back here Y/n!”
Hand in hand they take off running back into the house with Tony close behind them. 
“Woah woah slow down kiddo’s”
“Sorry Mr George”
“Sorry dad” they call out at the same time.
“Momma, momma Tony smoking again!”
“What?”
“Me and Ducky was playing outside and Tony said the Ducky can’t call me Bunny anymore or be my friend anymore and he pulled out that white stick that he’s not allowed to have” she breathes out, slightly out of breath from her running.
“Ma…she’s lying” Tony speaks hesitantly as his mother glares at him.
“No she’s not!” Bucky’s quick to defend Bunny.
“Y/n sweetie why don’t you and James go back outside and carry on playing, I’ll call you in when lunch is ready” Maria says softy yet leaving no room to argue.
“Bu-Y/n I’m really sorry for pushing you over, I-I was just playing” Bucky says once they’re back outside.
“What did you just call me?”
“Y/n…”
“No no no I’m Bunny to you”
“But Tony said-“
“Ignore Tony! Please Ducky” 
“Okay”
“What’s my name?”
“Miss poo poo pants” he grinned.
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Y/n loved going to school even though she had no friends and was bullied quite often. She tried desperately to make friends just like Maria told her to do but none of the other kids wanted to be friends with her.
She was that one kid who was always alone and sometimes often seen talking to herself, she would run from one class to the next just so she wasn’t late and ate her food in the bathroom.
Despite always being alone she loved school.
One time Maria made her go to a sleepover that she wasn’t invited too, Maria spoke with the girls mom and that Friday night she was taken to the house for this sleepover.
It was a nightmare.
The other girls didn’t speak to her, they didn’t let her join in the fun activities. When it was time to sleep she settled down in her sleeping bag and feel asleep, waiting for the morning to come so she could leave.
When she woke her heart broke.
They had cut all her hair off.
“W-why di-did you do t-t-this?” She stuttered out, gripping the pile of hair they had cut off.
“It’s funny” one of the girls giggled.
Y/n grabbed her things and ran out of the room and down the stairs passing the mom on her way out, missing the grin on the woman’s face. She sat outside the home waiting for her momma to pick her up, tears streaming heavily down her face.
“Y/n? What-“
“T-they cut my hair off momma”
“Sweet baby come here”
Y/n climbed into Maria’s arms clinging on for dear life. Her hair was so long and curly and she loved it, it now came to her shoulders and was cut messily.
“I’ll get my friend to do it properly, okay? She’ll make it look nice and we’ll get ice cream afterwards yeah?”
“M-my hair momma”
“I know baby, it’ll grow back I promise”
Maria’s friend did in fact make her hair nicer but the problem was that it was now a little bit shorter than what the mean girls did. Y/n shook her head at the opportunity to get ice cream, all she wanted to do was go home and get into bed.
“What happened angel?” Howard asked when he came out of his office - the one place Y/n wasn’t allowed to explore - concerned and shocked at seeing his daughter red eyed and short hair.
“They cut my hair off because it was funny”
“Did you want them too?”
“No dada I was asleep”
“Oh angel.” He kneels down in front of her, his hands cold as he presses them on both sides of her head. “You still look very pretty”
“But my hair looks stupid”
“It doesn’t look stupid darling”
“It does!”
“No it doesn’t. Don’t try and argue back missy. I wouldn’t lie to you Y/n you know this”
“Sorry dada, can I go to bed please?”
“It’s okay and you can, I’ll wake you up when lunch is ready okay”
“Okay” she rushes off upstairs and to her bedroom, climbing into her bed she laid there and with shaky hands she ran her fingers through her hair. Crying as she dreads Bucky’s reaction, knowing he loves her long hair.
Bucky walked into Howard’s house with Steve next to him, wondering where Bunny was.
“She’s in the backyard boys“
“Thanks Miss Maria” they call over their shoulders already making their way outside.
“Hi Bunny”
“Hi Ducky, hi Steve”
“Why do you look sad?” Steve says after he said his greeting.
“Why are you wearing your hood up?” Bucky then questions.
“Please please please don’t be mad”
“Why would I be mad Bun?”
“Because-“ her hands move towards the hood and slowly pulled it down, eyes casted downwards. “-of this”
“Bun…” Bucky gasped with furrowed eyebrows.
“I’m sorry” she cries.
“You had your hair cut?”
“I didn’t want to I swear!”
“Why did you let your ma do it then?”
“I didn’t, she didn’t, I was at a sleepover and the girls did it. They cut my hair wh-when I was asleep Ducky”
Bucky moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her as she cried. “It’s okay Bunny, it looks nice. Doesn’t it Stevie”
“Super nice” Steve agrees.
“It looks stupid!”
“It doesn’t”
After pulling away Bucky wiped the tears away and frowned, he always hated seeing her cry because he didn’t know what to do to make the tears stop from falling.
“Do you want to carry on playing fairies?” He asked knowing that she loved playing that game.
“Okay”
They played for hours, Bucky missing the way her hair flowed behind her as she ran. Missing the way it would always tangle itself around her body.
He didn’t know these girls who did this to his Bunny but he hated them.
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“Bunny guess what?”
Lifting her head off the ground she looked over at him “what?”
“It’s nearly Christmas”
“I know, I’ve been good this year have you?”
“Of course. What do you think Santa will bring you?”
“A pony”
“A pony? How will Santa be able to put a pony on his sled Bun?”
“Magic” she says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Magic?”
“Yep, what do you think Santa will be bringing you?”
“A bike”
“You already have one…”
“I know but I want a new one”
“Oh. Well I’ll be getting a pony and you’ll be getting a bike because we’ve been really good this year”
“That’s true”
They both lay back down and carry on watching the fluffy clouds go past. Y/n really hoped that she was getting a pony whilst Bucky was also hoping the same thing for her.
“Duck”
“Bun”
“Will you be spending Christmas with us again?”
“I’m not sure why?”
“I want you to”
“Why?”
“Because your smelly”
“That makes no sense”
“You don’t make no sense”
They fall back into silence as the clouds go by.
“Bun”
“Duck”
“We’ll be friends forever won’t we?”
“Of course”
“Good, that’s good”
Silence takes over once again.
“Duck”
“Bun”
“I love you”
“I love you too”
“Good, that’s good”
Silence takes over once…again.
“Bun”
“Duck”
“My ma’s having a baby”
“What?”
“Yeah she’s having a baby”
“I want one”
“You can’t”
“Why not?”
“Your not married”
“Oh. Well can you marry me?”
“Why?”
“So I can have a baby”
“Okay”
“So…are we married now?”
“Yeah I think so”
“Good, that’s good”
“Should we tell our parents?”
“Okay”
Bucky stands up first and hold his hand out for her to take, hand in hand they head inside to where their parents were talking.
“Ma dad uncle Howard and Aunt Maria me and Bunny have to tell you something” Bucky starts, gaining the attention of all four adults.
“What is it son?”
“We’re married” Y/n beams.
“Oh really? Since when?” Howard chuckles.
“We were outside and Bunny asked me if we could get married so we did” Bucky continues.
“Why did you want to marry Bucky darling?”
“So I can have a baby” looking at Winnie and Maria who start to choke on their drinks.
“Do you know where babies come from?” George says as he pats Winnie on her back.
“The belly” the two kids reply in unison.
“Do you know how the baby gets there?”
“No…”
“You’ll have to kiss each other” Howard says.
“I have to kiss Bunny?”
“I have to kiss Ducky?”
All four adults stifle their laughter as the kids pull away from each other pulling disgusting faces.
“Eww I’m not kissing him!”
“I’m not kissing her!”
“That’s how babies get in the woman’s belly” George chuckles.
“I don’t want to be married to you anymore Ducky”
“Good I don’t want to be married to you either”
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“Look Bunny I got a new bike!” Bucky says as he speeds past her on his new bike.
“That’s so cool can I ride it?”
“Okay but you have to be careful I don’t want you falling off like last time”
Bucky hops off the bike and waits for Y/n to come over and helps her get onto the bike. He holds on until she’s gotten the hang off it.
“I’m riding it Ducky! Look” she squeals.
“I’m looking, I’m proud of you Bun” just as he says them words she starts to wobble and falls off. “Bunny! Christ Bun are you okay?”
“I broke your bike Ducky I’m so sorry” she cries as she clutches her knee closer to her chest.
“I don’t care about that, are you hurt?”
“My knee. Ducky I’m so sorry”
“It’s okay-that’s a lot of blood” he pales at the heavy flow of blood streaming from her injured knee.
“Is-is it going to fall off?”
“No, well it shouldn’t do.”
Lifting her up he helps her walk in to the house, he calls out for Maria who comes rushing over and paling when she sees the blood flowing down her daughters leg, picking her up she rushes her into the bathroom where she can clean up the wound.
Bucky felt really bad for her falling off his bike especially since this time she had hurt herself, last time it happened luckily she fell off and landed on grass, the only injuries that was done was to her dress.
Watching as she limped out of the bathroom he rushed over giving her his arm to lean on.
“I’m really sorry Bunny”
“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I broke your bike”
“It’s not broken don’t worry”
During dinner Bucky asks Y/n if she had gotten a pony from Santa, shaking her head sadly she carried on eating.
“When I’m older I’ll buy you a pony” he promises smiling when she smiles up at him.
<Previous   Next>
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Tags: @cjand10 @unaxv @mcira @bisexualnikkisixx @kneelforloki @kandis-mom @sagebarness @sandyruston @scott-loki-barnes @nikkivillar @saltedcoffeescotch @scentedharmonymiracle @examinarei @sarcastickiddo @sadboiabby @unholyhuntress @8crazy-freak8 @ijustneedpopcorn @moonbeampillgoth @imcinnamoons @elmo-1066 @violetwinterwidow01 @suz7days @adoredire @ozwriterchick @randomrosie01 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @emerald-writes @justafangir1
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backtothefanfiction · 4 months
Text
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Nicknames
Summary; explaining where you and Felix get your nicknames for each other from.
Warnings: fluff, tragic backstory, neglect, sibling bullying
A/N: the whole point of the Summer at Saltburn shorts is that you can read them in any order and they make sense but this is probably one with the most context as to why reader lives/spends their school holidays at Saltburn.
Summers at Saltburn Masterlist
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You can’t remember a single summer you haven’t spent at Saltburn. Even as a kid, before your father ran off to South America (when he came under investigation for embezzling company funds), you had always spent some time at your Godfather’s house; because his kids were the same age as you. You were the youngest of four, a “happy” accident 6 years after your older brother had been born. He was supposed to be the baby of the family, not you and the age difference between you and them (they all had only a year or two between them) made them cruel.
Felix had started to call you Daisy in response to hearing your older brothers and sister refer to you as Oopsy at one of his parents parties.
“Why do you call her Daisy, my darling?” Elspeth had asked her son when she realised he’d started to refer to you exclusively as the small yet resilient dainty flower.
“Because her family call her oopsy, as in oopsy Daisy.” He says through a mouthful of food.
“Oh how horrible. Is that true darling?” She says turning towards you. Elspeth had always treated you as if you were one of her own and the thought of people being so cruel to you made her blood simmer under her collected exterior.
You paused before saying “yes,” unable to look her in the eyes.
“Well,” she said, patting your hand that lay resting on the table between the two of you, “I much prefer Daisy, because you are. You are beautiful and strong and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
——————/////—————
You had taken to calling Felix “Fix” only a few summers back, when he finished secondary school and brought his first school friend home for the summer. It wasn’t until another 3 summers later and Felix brought Oliver home for the summer that he finally asked you why.
You had decided to hide yourself in the field in hope of actually trying to get through one of the books you’d brought with you to read this summer. You actually hated the field. It had a very specific rule, if you were going to lie out in the field, you have to do it naked. It wasn’t the rule itself that made you hate it, but the fact you always seemed to get bit by something hiding in the long grass.
You’d managed to sneak away and remain undetected for all of 30 minutes (which was a new kind of record because searching the whole house for someone could take up to an hour at times) before Felix came stalking across the field towards you.
“Clothes.” You called out from behind your book.
He was silent as he stripped off his polo shirt and shorts before stomping through the long grass towards you. He remained silent as you continued to read but his fidgety fingers and legs told you there was something he wanted to talk about.
“Just say it.” You say, your eyes pausing at the end of a paragraph to make sure you wouldn’t lose your spot, hoping his question would have a quick answer and you could go back to the novel in your hand.
“Why do you call me Fix?” He says.
It’s not a question you were expecting and find yourself dropping your book into your lap to turn and look at him. “I thought it was obvious.” You say, peering over the tops of your sunglasses at him.
“Well apparently it’s not.” He replies.
“It’s because you like to fix people.” You say, lifting your book back up to your eyes, figuring it was answer enough, but alas, Felix protested.
“I don’t like to fix people.” He scoffs and as you look over the top of your book at him, you can see the small scowl forming on his face around his furrowed brow.
“Oh yeah?” You say before you both get distracted by the sound of another pair of feet making their way across the field towards you. You look to see Oliver making his way towards you both and it’s like the god’s have just handed this to you on a plate. “Ahhh look,” you say, seizing the opportunity, “here comes exhibit C.” You say to Felix, before shouting a reminder of “Clothes!” At Oliver.
Felix doesn’t say any more about it that afternoon, but when he corners you that evening before dinner, he has to ask. “Okay, so if Ollie is exhibit C, I’m assuming Michael was exhibit B…” he pauses as he waits for you to give him a small nod of confirmation before he asks, “Who’s exhibit A?”
“Me.” You say, as if it’s obvious. One look at his face tells you that you’ve stunned him into silence. Your face is calm and confident as you make your way into the dining room, leaving him alone in the hallway to ponder his thoughts.
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bleedingoptimism · 6 months
Text
Steve only agreed to go out with Tommy after their parents set them up because he “owed” his dad for ruining a potential business partnership for him at a dinner party.
To the rest of the guests, the man had just tripped and embarrassed himself but he knew and Steve knew and Steve’s dad knew: Steve had tripped him. But the guy had groped his ass when he crossed him on his way to the bathroom. He had it coming.
And even if his father had agreed with him after Steve told him the truth, he still needed help landing another client since his most profitable opportunity turned out to be a big ol’ creep. A date with another client’s son. Young, rich, good-looking, a single dad. It didn’t sound that bad.
And so Steve met Tommy. 
At first, Tommy was… good. He was charming, cute, a praiser and a joker but the more Steve got to know the less he liked. After a while the compliments stopped and the commanding requests began. Get me this, pick this up, cook me, blow me, dress me, feed me, drive me, me, me, me.
But if Steve wanted or needed something? Tommy was sooo tired and busy. He hadn’t even made an effort to meet Steve’s friends yet. Plus he was always making Steve feel dumb and unimportant, saying his job was silly, even if Steve made almost as much money as him with fewer hours.
Telling him not to ‘worry his pretty head about it’ when Steve asked for clarifications or wouldn’t talk to him about work because Steve ‘wouldn’t get it’. He talked down on Steve all the time and offered him money to “buy himself something nice” in a degrading manner as if Steve was nothing more than arm candy for him.
The worst part was when he realized Tommy… wasn't funny. At all. All his jokes were based on making fun of other people. And he was the only one who laughed at them. He was no better than a bully. He… kind of sucked.
And Steve would’ve loved to never have to see him again. But the problem was he had fallen in love with Tommy’s daughter, Tarja. Because Tommy might have been a terrible boyfriend but at least he was a good enough father. So the weeks Tommy got Tarja, Steve spent most of his time with her. 
She was just a delight. Cute, smart, and actually funny. She had the most deadpan sarcastic humor a 6-year-old could manage and it cracked him up. She was also super creative and loved drawing, reading, bedtime tales, and coming up with stories of her own.
Her emotional maturity was impressive, better than her father’s actually, and one of Steve’s favorite things about her. He’d never forget the day he went to pick her up from school and she’d been upset. When Steve asked her how he could help she had calmly explained what had happened, how it made her feel, and what she could do about it… over ice cream, obviously. It made him wonder what kind of person her other dad was like because she had clearly not learned how to communicate like that from Tommy.
And the thing is, Steve had always wanted a kid, ever since he was young all he wanted was a family and even if Tommy wasn’t great he just couldn’t make himself leave the connection he felt with Tarja. And he couldn’t just come out to Tommy and say: ‘Hey I wanna break up, but I’d love to keep seeing your kid,’ that would land him at best a punch, at worst in jail.
There was also the fact that, no matter how much he tried to deflect, Tommy’s comments were starting to get to him. Maybe Tommy was as good as he’d get, maybe he was dumb and uninteresting and the only thing he had going for him was his looks, maybe this was his only chance for a family. So he stuck it out. Cherished the times when they were all together.
And then he met Eddie.
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exhaslo · 15 days
Note
Since Puzzle Pieces is a favorite piece of mine from your writing could you dk like a mini side story about reader and mafia!miguel raising a family together especially with reader navigating finding herself
MORE SIDE CONTENT!!! LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOO
Warning: Minors DNI, some smut, mentions of sex, mentions of murder, mentions of bullying
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"Mama, mama, mama! Wanna play at park, please, please, please?!"
Unable to resist the adorable look your oldest son was giving you, you caved.
"Alright, sweetie. Why don't you pick out an outfit while I call daddy to let him know, okay?"
You smiled brightly as the toddler cheered before running off to his room. It has been a few years into your relationship with Miguel and you couldn't be happier. The two of you had three beautiful children...and counting according to Miguel.
Your oldest son, Gabriel, was four; the second child, Gabriella, was two; and the last child, Kron, was only a few months old.
Humming lowly as you took your two youngest children to your room, you placed them on the bed before calling Miguel. Ever since your children were born, Miguel took extra caution whenever you would go out.
It was thanks to an incident when you and Lyla went out for some clothes shopping when Gabriel was about five months old. One of the other mafia families had the nerves to kidnap the three of you for ransom. Miguel did not take it lightly and ended up killing that new form mafia family.
"Hey, Miggy, I'm taking the kids to the park. Little Gabriel was just too cute to say no too," You said with a giggle.
"Aye, mi amor (my love), you must show some restraint with him."
"I know, I know."
"I'll send some men over. How are you doing today?" Miguel asked, wanting to make sure his wife was in good health.
"I'm okay, Migs-"
"AHHHHH PLEASE!"
"Are you okay? Another mafia group bothering you?" You asked after hearing the screams in the background. Miguel just chuckled softly,
"Not reason a bother, more like an insect. But don't worry, mi amor, they will be squashed in a moment. After I'm done here, I should be able to go home early."
"Maybe you could join us at the park, hehe," You said with a smile as you finished changing Gabriella.
"Daddy!"
"Yes, Gabi, your daddy might join us~"
"Now I have to finish early. I'll see you soon."
With that, Miguel hung up. You continued to change your youngest before laughing at how Gabriel dressed. Once finished, you had to fix your oldest clothing. With the three finally ready to go, you waited for Migue's men to appear.
You loved Miguel. He was still ever so kind and gentle with you. Your stuttering had calmed down with his help, although, you do get the occasional nerves, especially with new people. If anything, your children were the biggest reason for you to try and get better.
You wanted them to look up to you. Miguel was not only a powerful mafia boss, which the kids won't know about, but also one of the world's most powerful CEO. Compared to Miguel, you were just a small little bunny.
The thought made you sorrow. You wanted to do something with your life as well, but what? You've spent a good portion being bullied and ridiculed by both your parents and your ex boyfriend. Hell, if it wasn't for Miguel, you might not be here.
"Mama, the Peters are here!" Gabriel cheered.
Chuckling lowly towards your son's cute group name, you opened the door for the Peters. Jessica was there as well and greeted you and the small children.
"Hey, how's everything going?" You asked, wanting to get your mind off of your failures.
"Good. My kid's causing a ruckus in school every now and then. Wished, he got more of his father than me," She said with a laugh.
"Awe, I don't even want to think about sending Gabriel to school. I'll miss him too much!"
"Girl, with how Miguel is, he'll give you another baby." Jessica said with a wide smirk causing you to blush.
Miguel would.
--------
You were tired. You were sitting on one of the park benches, watching Kron as your other two children played. The Peters were watching the two children like a hawk while Jessica helped you with your youngest. Even with the help, you felt drained from other parents watching you.
It brought you back into your thoughts of what you wanted to do with your life. You had been through so much trauma that you could write a book, but would anyone read it? Would it be too depressing for other people?
"Excuse me, are all these men with you? You're making the other parents feel uncomfortable," A woman spoke while approaching both you and Jessica.
"O-Oh," You flinched, "S-Sorry...um-"
"Her husband worries a lot. They are her and her children's bodyguards, do mind yours." Jessica huffed.
"Well, it's still making everyone uncomfortable!"
You felt your heart sink. You couldn't even stand up for yourself against other parents. What were you going to do when your children went to school?
"My apologies, then perhaps we shall find another park for our children to play at."
Miguel placed his hand against your back, smiling casually towards the irate woman. It was instant that the parents gasped upon realizing who Miguel was. They immediately said it was fine as people tried to approach Miguel.
"And here we go," Miguel said with a heavy sigh. You smiled towards your husband,
"I'm sure the kids played enough for today,"
"DADDY!!!!"
"See?" You giggled as the two children ran towards Miguel.
Miguel laughed as he picked up his children. His loving gaze towards his family made you swell with joy. As long as Miguel supports whatever you want to do, you will be happy. Hell, knowing Miguel, he would make everyone in his mafia to buy your book, puzzle or whatever you do.
"Ready to go home?" Miguel asked his kids. They whined in response, "Mommy and Daddy have important work to do."
You felt your cheeks warm up as you looked at Miguel in protest. Using sex as an excuse for important work was going to get old eventually. You whined in turn as your children agreed to Miguel's ridiculous lie.
--------
"Tell me, (Y/N), what's been on your mind lately?" Miguel asked with a hum as he pressed your body against the bed, his cock reaching the deepest part of your gummy walls.
"M-Miggy, n-no fair," You whined as he held your legs over his shoulders, "I-I can't think...l-like this."
"Sure you can,"
With a thrust of his hips, you gasped and moaned his name. Your body melting against his touch and pussy clenching around his dick. No matter how many times Miguel would fuck you, it still brought you to nirvana each time.
Whimpering as Miguel's thrusts grew faster and rougher, you couldn't hold your voice back. You arched your back, whining and moaning as Miguel slapped against that sweet spot of yours.
"There's my little bunny. Wanna tell me what's wrong, amor?" Miguel whispered in your ear as he pressed you into mating position.
"Mhm~" You wanted to protest, but how could you? "I-I...ah~ I want...t-to do something...mhm~ with my l-life-"
"Amor,"
Miguel whispered softly, pulling you in for a kiss as you confessed. His thrusts were slow and sweet as he held you closely.
"Hah~ Ah~ M-Maybe...I...I could w-write a b-book."
"I'll support whatever you do, (Y/N). Just say the word and it's yours."
"Mhm~"
You wrapped your arms around Miguel as the two of you continued your 'important work'.
--------
Once all of your children were asleep, you sat in the living room, typing away on a laptop Miguel bought for you. Miguel approached you from behind, placing a cup of hot tea on the table. You smiled as he took his spot beside you, kissing your shoulder.
"Have you decided what you want to do?" Miguel asked softly. You rested your head against his,
"Well, I want to write about what I went through. Maybe...it will help other people try and get out of their similar fate....and I want to make learning puzzles for kids."
"Hm, seems like my wife has a busy schedule ahead of her." Miguel's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap, "Just let me know and I'll help anyway I can."
"Thank you, Miguel." You titled your head and kissed him sweetly, "I love you."
"I love you more,"
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I hope you enjoyed! Puzzle Pieces is always fun to write! Also, you all might like my new series:
Over-Time
@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy
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coralinnii · 1 year
Note
Hello to you! I was wondering if you were taking requests. I just had a prompt I thought you might like! Any characters you'd like, with an s/o who can and will get violent easily if someone disrespects the love of their life? Like someone calls cater fake and suddenly a chairs getting thrown at their head. I'm sorry for asking, I just thought this was funny :)
❋ Feral!MC who defends their man ❋ feat: Epel ⭑ Ace ⭑ Cater ⭑ Malleus genre: fluff, humour note: gn!reader, no pronouns used with reader, established relationships, reader is implied to be magicless, depictions of physical fighting and violence (punching, kicking, etc),
So, I usually just randomly pick a set of 4 characters but this worked out so well it was hilarious.
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All his life, Epel feels underestimated due to his fragile-looking appearance and stature. He spent his early adolescence running amok to prove himself a man but since meeting Vil, he’s learning to hold himself back. 
But that doesn’t mean his situation has changed. There will always be one or two schoolmates that continue to demean him for his looks. 
“You Pomefiore wimps are all the same. What, too afraid to get your makeup ruined?” 
Oh, there is nothing Epel wants more than to give these jerks a piece of his mind, but nothing these guys can say would compare to what Vil would do if he starts a fight here so he chose to turn his cheek on their superficial comments. 
Sadly, the offenders did not appreciate that as they started to grow red over being ignored and started raising their magic pens when… 
“Ooff!” One of the grunts fell to his knees clutching his lower half, revealing you standing behind him with a look that could scare the campus ghosts.  
“The hell is manly about picking on someone minding his own business?!” You seethed in fury as you glared at the wounded student and his friend helping him. “Epel has more manly qualities in his pinky than you do in your whole body, including that sad manhood” You sneered at the term, barely believing one could call any part of them “man”. 
You stepped closer to the two male students, one of them covering his already injured equipment. With an air of barely contained wrath, you stomped your foot extremely close in front of the fallen student, right between his legs “Leave before I make sure that you two will be walking weird for the whole school year” Your eyes glinted with not a threat, but a promise. 
With the two bullies running off, you looked to Epel. Gone was the fury in your eyes but rather concern. 
He really shouldn’t be, but darn it if he wasn’t proud of you. He wanted to praise you so much for how amazing you were. He knows now that violence is not the best option but it sure makes you look cool.
If he were his younger self, he’d have been embarrassed that someone fought his battles for him but he knew you do it out of love and never because you didn’t think he couldn’t defend himself. He’s learning new forms of power, and your willingness to fight for him was another side to strength he didn’t have growing up. 
Epel swore to continue growing up, to appreciate the strengths he found such as you, and to someday be strong enough to protect you forever.
“We can’t let Vil hear about this, but that was super cool! Ya sure spook ‘em good!” 
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Ace is a cheeky bast*rd. Sure, he knows when he should shut up but when push comes to shove, he’s not afraid to say how he really feels and doesn’t care how he can come across to others. Due to that attitude, he has made a few enemies that don't appreciate his words and like him, aren't afraid to tell him that. 
“Who are you to say that about us? Acting like you’re better than us, get off that high horse of yours!” 
Ace rolled his eyes over the student’s weak insult but did nothing. Something like this isn’t worth getting hurt over. The redhead was about to put on his fakest smile and ready to satiate the poor kid’s ego but suddenly a blurry figure breezed past him and straight at the student who started this commotion. 
And the sound of something solid hitting flesh rang through the hallways
Loud gasps and curious whispers filled in as students saw that you landed a straight punch on the other student, who’s sitting stunned on the floor.
“If you didn’t do stupid sh*t, then maybe Ace doesn't have to call you out on it!” 
Boy is smug af over you getting all feral and defending him like that. Watching someone he likes fight for him and getting angry on his behalf tickles his heart. How many guys can say his lover would beat someone up for him? Ace felt shivers down his spine seeing you all fiery and angry for his sake, yelling at the dumbfounded student how Ace doesn’t have to be nice to anyone who doesn’t deserve it. 
“And at least Ace has a brain to think before doing something stupid unlike you morons! Talk sh*t, get hit!” Seeing you angrily compliment him is strangely attractive to the Heartslabyul freshman that he rather push to the back of his mind to ponder at a later date. 
As your voice got louder as your fury burned, which Ace feared might catch the attention of a teacher or worse, his housewarden. 
Always quick on his feet both metaphorically and physically, Ace used the chaotic situation to run in between the crowd and escape his enemies before a teacher ended up showing up just as he predicted. When the coast is clear, Ace will definitely tease you on your little feral child moment.
Great job, you really stroked this kid's ego 
“You sure got scary all for lil ol’ me~ You love me that much, huh?”
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Cater knows how some people see him, what they say about him but he doesn’t care since in the end he doesn’t affect him that much. Words from a couple of rando people means little to him. 
It was an uneventful day, when he heard a couple of classmates whisper behind his back, words like “fake” and “clout-chaser” made purposely clear for anyone, including him, to hear. 
“Talk about vibe killers” The laid-back senior thought, a sting of annoyance managing to build in his heart. It doesn’t crush him but still, having someone insult you never feels good. 
He was planning to take the high road, pretend not to hear them and walk away when he heard a commotion from that direction. When Cater turned around, he nearly dropped his phone when he saw you…with your hands in a vice grip on one of the jeering student’s hair. 
“Say that again, I dare you!” You screamed as you looked ready to turn the poor boy bald. “Show off that loser behavior so everyone can see!” 
The student in your grasp was helpless and not even his friend could help him because any attempt made to you only made you tighten your grip on his locks. 
“You don't know anything about Cater, how can you call him fake?! He’s considerate and always makes sure not to make anyone uncomfortable, unlike you motherfu-“
You couldn’t finish your sentence as smoke started filling the space, which sent everyone in the vicinity in a state of chaos thinking a fire had started. Surprised, you released the fool in your grasp and in that moment you felt someone pull you away from the smoky mess. In your angry confusion, you nearly restarted your assault when you recognized the familiar light ginger locks and charming green eyes through the fading smoke. It was Cater that pulled you away from the crowd before a teacher finally showed up and cleared the smoke spell he casted.
You nearly gave Cater a heart attack. The last thing he wants is for you to get in trouble or worse, have a target on your back due to your fiery temper. Secretly, he felt a sense of guilty pleasure knowing how fired up you get for someone like him, plus that wild side of you is scarily appealing to him. 
Even if he prefers to hide things with a smile, he worries for your safety more than anything. He has a plethora of ways to get himself out of a bad situation so he hopes you could trust him a bit more.
He might not be able to stop you from getting into fights for his sake, but at least let him protect you when you do
“Hoo boy, that was a close one! You gotta trust me a little more, you know?~”
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When Malleus saw you walking back to your dorm one late night, thunderous clouds quickly formed as he noticed bruising on your face and hands, obviously from a scuffle. 
“Who is responsible for this?” Malleus spoke calmly but the dangerous strikes of lightning raining down in the far distance spoke volumes of his true emotions. 
You shrugged your shoulders, trying to downplay your injuries as you explained that you got into a fight with a couple of students earlier that day. Malleus was curious but you looked tired and decided to let you rest for that night
Malleus heard later from Lilia that you suddenly tackled a bunch of students when you overheard them speaking ill of the dragon fae, saying how he only earned his housewarden title purely because of his powers and not due to skills or competence. 
Ok, let’s make it clear. Anybody who dares to insult Malleus definitely has a death wish, with the exception of Leona. Being one of the most powerful mages of his time and having a loyal group of guards that isn’t afraid to take someone down, anyone with survival instincts would think twice before talking sh*t about the heir of Briar Village. 
But this is true everywhere, there is always that tiny group of people that dare to speak nonsense, acting as though their actions won’t have consequences. 
Hah, they thought. 
The students who witnessed the fight recalled the sheer rage exuding from you as you continued to pummel on the target of your wrath. You were finally pulled away by a teacher and was sent to Crowley's office, which explained your late return. 
“They don’t know anything! They don’t see how hard you’re trying to understand humans for the future of fae-human relations. The lessons and training you do to someday lead your kingdom, they know none of it. None at all!” 
Malleus has Silver and especially Sebek who would yell at anyone that would even dare to breathe weirdly in Malleus’ presence, so naturally hearing that a fight broke out because someone supposedly disrespected him is a common story for him. But this was the first time he heard it was you who started the fight in his honor. 
He brushed against your cheek, where your bruise was before he quickly healed it. He wondered if humans were all reckless when in love like you were. He should reprimand you, tell you that such violence is unnecessary as petty hate is nothing to him.
Although, supposed if he were in your position, he wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t do the same, perhaps even worse. Afterall, you were his precious treasure. 
This man won’t care who started the fight, he’s smiting anyone for trying to harm you in any way (A red flag but a confusing one) 
“I would prefer you avoid such conflicts in the future, my dear. Not for your sake, but for theirs if I learn of the fools who dare lay a hand on you”
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minty364 · 2 months
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DPXDC Prompt #142 Part 2
His parents had spent years working on their portal, to the point where they were neglecting their own children. Danny didn’t know any better, neither did Jazz. To them it was just how their family ran and for the most part it worked for them. It allowed Danny to really study space and the Stars. His room was covered with different ship models on the shelves, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling and posters on the walls.
Jazz had similarly explored her own thoughts and topics as she studied Psychology. Her room was more feminine but still had a certain scientific decorum to it.  
He never thought that he’d suddenly be ripped from all the things he loved. But here he was with the trench coat man, instead of taking some biology class or something.
“What happened with the portal?” Danny asked.
The man took a long sigh, “listen… quite a lot of shit went down after your accident.” 
“That tells me nothing,” Danny glared at the man.
“I get your upset kid, but let me at least know your name. Mine's John Constantine,” 
“…Danny,” Danny muttered after a moment. He wasn’t sure he trusted the man but he guessed he had no choice. He was also noticing he felt a bit off, it was the weirdest gut feeling and Danny was having trouble telling exactly what the feeling was. It was like the feeling was telling him to trust John, although at the same time John had this weird feeling about him that had Danny feeling weary. He decided to trust John just a little, hopefully it got him back home, after a moment Danny spoke again, “…Can you at least tell me if the portal worked?”
The room was silent for a moment and then John spoke “Alright, fine, I’ll tell you what happened but some background first, do you know who the ancients are?” 
The name didn’t sound familiar, “Ancients? Like Ancient Aliens or something?” 
“No, no…” John took a swig from a flask in his pocket and then started fiddled with an unlit cigarette he pulled from a different pocket. He then looked Danny up and down, “You don’t know the first thing about the infinite realms do you?”
“The what?” None of this was making any sense and the more Danny talked to this guy the more he was getting a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Something about this conversation felt wrong, like Danny should know all of this already but he just didn’t. 
“Right well… I guess the easiest way to explain this is the portal your parents made was to the infinite realms.” John said, putting the cigarette in his mouth.
“My parents called it the Ghost Zone.” Danny muttered.
John seemed to chuckle at that, “I mean it is mainly inhabited by ghosts, however they aren’t the only ones, far from it in fact. I’m sorry but… I couldn’t allow your parents unlimited access to the realms. I had to disable it and prevent it from being reactivated.”
Danny felt a little disheartened after hearing that, he guessed John was probably right though. He remembered hearing his parents talk about how they’d dissect every ghost they found to study them. The bully’s at his school often bullied Danny over it especially after his dad and mom would continually embarrass him on parent teacher nights and on field trips.
Danny let out a small sigh, “so when can I go home?”
John looked a little surprised, his eyebrow quirked up, “so you're unaware of your situation right now?”
“Situation?” Danny trailed off, he remembered getting shocked and then he remembered waking up here, “where are we?”
John let out another sigh, “shit, well from my research you're supposed to know everything about your powers when you wake up.”
This made no sense to Danny, powers? Danny didn’t have powers, he didn't have the meta-gene.
“Powers? I don’t have the meta-gene. I think you have the wrong person.” Danny stated as he folded his arms in front of himself.
“Then how are you floating?” John asked with a smirk.
Danny looked down and he indeed was floating just an inch off the bed, he wondered when that started but the feeling threw him off a little as he stumbled a little trying to keep himself upright. It didn’t work and he fell back down on the bed with a little thud. He turned to see John watching him with a small hint of amusement in his eyes. 
“What am I?” Danny asked, his voice small and a little panicked.
“You, Danny Fenton, are an Ancient. I know the term makes it seem like you're old but the term is more because your people are ancient in age.” The explanation made no sense to Danny but he could somehow float now. He thought the term ‘Ancient’ was a little much for some floating powers.
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iwaasfairy · 10 months
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┌─ “ ! „ WHEN YOU ASK
tw. yandere, dubcon, threats, coercion, some degradation, dom/sub themes, humiliation, noncon voyeurism, former bullying mention, threesome-ish, crying, knife, choking wordcount. 5.5k
a/n. ♡ commissioned by another amazing person ♡ thank you so much for the commission!! i hope you like this one and it lives up to your expectation and i !! ahHH i just always get nervous writing charas i haven't before but I had a blast! mwUah i hopeee you enjoy!!! kiSsES once again thankies to rhi for being best beta hehe
akashi seijuro x fem!reader
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See, if someone asked, Mibuchi could say that he’s friends with you.
It wouldn’t be an outright lie -you’ve been in the same classes since middle school, he’s seen how you act around your friends and wave everyone goodbye with a smile- but maybe it isn’t exactly the truth either. Safer to say, Mibuchi knows of you. Would even call you an acquaintance of sorts, and he’s pretty sure you guys were sort of friendly when you were twelve and he sat next you in class for a good couple months — he might even have walked you home at some point.
You could have been friends, if he’d been a little less busy with basketball practice in middle and high school, a little less busy with the team. Because really, he’d have had every opportunity to. You were in the cheer squad for a couple years, and he’s pretty sure you were one of the girls who helped collect funds for the Rakuzan bus rides from and to tournaments- and you always seemed pleasant, kind. If he hadn’t been so focused on his sport career, he might’ve even had a bit of a crush on you.
Not that he plans on making up for it now, but it’s not hard to see or admit that you’re pretty stunning, you were back then— and you definitely are today. Perfectly manicured nails and beautifully glossy hair that makes you look full and warm and modelesque all at once. You shine. It’s hard not to notice someone like you whenever he sees you at their matches. He knows he’s not the only one. College jocks are hardly the picture of self restraint, and if you think signed athletes are any different, you’d be wrong. But all of that doesn’t really matter, because you don’t sit in the stands for him.
The redhead that he has spent the past few years playing alongside is lucky to call you more than friends. He respects Akashi. There’s almost no way around it when you play on a team alongside the guy, that pure, unfiltered resolve he has, and the steely brute force it sometimes takes the form of. Akashi wouldn’t exactly have it any other way too, and though that might get annoying if he were anyone else, Mibuchi isn’t arrogant enough to acknowledge that the guy plays best when he knows people he respects have his back. That type of world-class talent doesn’t come around a lot.
The redhead that has you sitting looking pretty in the stands is the same boy that’d shove you to the concrete in grade 2. The one he saw yank your pigtails and put glue in your backpack, isn’t he? The one who started the talk that you’d kissed a teacher under the bleachers, and stood by when Hayama stuck his hand up your skirt? Yeah, it’s probably because you aren’t friends that he doesn’t understand. All he knows is that kids grow up, and he respects the Captain.
So it’s because he respects Akashi that he finds himself in this situation, isn’t it?
You’re tiny. Well, everyone is sort of ‘tiny’ compared to most professional basketballers… but leaning against the concrete pillar with your perfect outfit and your arms wrapped around yourself, not a hair out of place - it is more vibes than actual appearance that makes you seem small. Compact, tiny, quiet, if he didn’t know any better, he’d liken you to a skittish little animal. You’re waiting, eyes scanning everyone briefly as they stream out. It’s sort of lonely looking, though. His head reminds him it isn't really his problem, but hey, it feels weird to pretend to not see you too.
And he supposes you are kinda friendly, right? As his long legs carry him through the sliding doors of the training center, he plops a sucker between his lips, glances over his shoulder and - makes the executive choice to walk up to you. If only to entertain you a little while Akashi takes his time running through the coaches’ comments, like he usually does. You blank when you notice him walk up, before doing a quick double take at the doors, and he takes the sort of deer-in-headlights look as a question on your end. “Akashi’s probably going to be a little bit longer, if I had to guess.”
“Oh. I see.” You let out a nervous little laugh, and wring your hands together, and he takes a brief second to look at you. Sure, he hasn’t exactly been very chatty when you’ve strolled in during practices with forgotten bento boxes, or when you sit at the very front row during matches with your perfectly presented exterior and a nervous glitter in your eyes, or even when it seems you’ve been dragged along to the teams events— but from what he knows of you… in the past, you’re not the shy little bunny standing before him now. It almost makes him a little self-conscious. Is it him that’s making you hesitate, or are you just… different now? People do change, after all. Still, it doesn’t seem… like change.
“I’m… Mibuchi, I was in the same class as you a lot growing up.” He finds himself explaining, in case you forgot. He wouldn’t exactly blame you if you did. If you managed to forgive and forget for Akashi, you could’ve forgotten most other things.
But you pause, and then your face softens into a slow smile. “I remember you, Reo-kun. We were desk mates in Ms. Tanaka’s class. You were always nice to me.” Right, with your high ponytail and cute bangs and your flowery frilly shirts. Thinking about it harder, he definitely did have somewhat of a crush on you back then. “It’s nice to get to talk to you again, it’s been so long.”
“You still like basketball, huh?” he asks, and you laugh and look at the floor, before nodding.
It takes a few seconds for your eyes to meet his again. “Yes, I guess so. Don’t have much of a choice.” It lingers when your voice goes a little more quiet. Right. Because, your boyfriend’s a pro-athlete. “Don’t get me wrong, I like the games! It’s really nice to get swept up in the excitement of it from time to time.” You sound light, breezy … but almost mournful too. It’s somewhere in your eyes, your long lashes unable to hide the deepness of it. “Honestly, I can’t wait for the season to start again.” Another beat passes, before you seem to snap out of it, and refocus on him. “You’re still playing too.”
Whatever tension crept up in his shoulders doesn’t loosen when he grins. “Almost fifteen years now, can’t let that streak go to waste.” He sucks on the lollipop for a long moment, before tilting his head. “Besides, pretty sure Akashi wouldn’t let me.”
It cracks your carefully crafted expression. For a split second -surprising both himself and you, it seems, because then your smile is picture perfect again. The same perfect smile you give everyone when they say ‘hi’ and Akashi laces his hand with yours. Or when you blow back a kiss across the field. And see, he isn’t too concerned with people’s reactions, usually. But it’s so sudden that it feels … weird. Everything suddenly feels weird. You never wear Akashi’s jerseys, even when he stuffs them into your hand before matches. Not that you have to… it’s just, you used to be cheer captain. It seems like something you’d want to do.
That sits weirdly. 
“You’re definitely right about that,” you agree, but the light of it doesn’t reach your eyes. Before he can think about it, the electronic doors slide open behind him— and as if you’re burned, you take a few steps away and into a new line of sight. “‘Juro, you’re back!”
“Why aren’t you waiting in the car, stupid?” is the first thing that comes out, reaching for you like you’re a lost child, as his mismatched eyes find Mibuchi. His face is perfectly blank of emotion as it always seems to be. “You guys were talking?”
Instantly, your eyes shoot up to his, and you seem to cling a little harder. “No! N-no, just… Mibuchi was waiting with me. We’re done.” You fiddle with the chain of your necklace when your boyfriend stays quiet and stares you down, searching for … a lie? An explanation? Whatever it is makes Mibuchi feel like he shouldn’t be watching. But he can’t pull away from the scene. His teammate eventually leans down to kiss you long and deep, and your shoulders drop a tad bit. Not enough to look relaxed.
“Hm.” If Akashi notices, he doesn’t mention it, and instead brushes his lips along your temple. “We should get home then. You look a little tired.” You don’t agree, but your feet start moving robotically upon the prompt, and the noiret takes that as the only clue he’s gonna get that the conversation is over.
“See you two next… practice,” he starts to say as you two walk off, but quiets down as you turn over your shoulder to look at him. There’s something off about your eyes. At least, he swears— there is. It makes him feel like he��s crazy. Because your pretty smile is right there, and you’re wrapping your perfectly manicured fingers around Akashi’s bicep.
The look doesn’t fade when Akashi simply nods, and ushers you along with a hand that lands in the dip of your spine. “Sure.”
+
The next time he sees you isn’t at practice. It takes him aback a little, putting the weights he was curling down to straighten up for a better view. You’re looking around like a lost puppy, and the reflection on the large glass panes boxing him off hides most of you from view, but sure enough- it’s you. Just you, once more, rubbing your hands along your arms as you wait in line for something.
It isn’t his business. It really isn’t, but- you didn’t show up to any of their matches or practices the last two weeks. Is it so strange that he’s sort of glad to see you alive and well? Not that he’d ever think badly of Akashi, but you’d been in such a bad mood when you left, and it just… didn’t seem right. He takes his water bottle to toss it onto his bag, before jogging on over out of the gates and around the corner right when you slip out of view. A few people walk around him, and he catches a brief look of your face as you hesitantly slip a card into the ATM.
Your hands are shaking. They’re shaking, and your lip is screwed between your teeth and… if it wasn’t you, he’d think you were doing something nefarious. “Hey,” he softly breathes as he walks up, and your jumpy squeak only makes him more uncomfortable.
Your eyes are so wide when you turn around. “Mibuchi! —Oh, Reo… it’s you.” The device behind you beeps. “Sorry, I,” your pretty face paints on a smile as you take out the money and slide it neatly into your purse, “I wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to me.” There’s a moment of silence as he scans you up and down, and that horrible feeling drops back into his gut. He can’t help it, it’s laced in the air between you two, it’s on his tongue, it’s in your eyes when you blink up at him. “Reo? Are you- okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” he nods, wiping his hands on his gym shorts. Is— should he say something? Is there something to say? It’s not like he can just … ask if you’re being treated badly. Hell- he’s been friends with Akashi since high school- he trusts the guy! There’s absolutely no reason he should be thinking like this. “You look beautiful,” he ends up blurting out, unable to think of anything else to say. “Me and the guys missed you at practice.”
“O-oh,” you giggle, and shake your head. “I was just a bit… busy at home, that’s all. I hoped Seijuro would’ve told you guys not to expect me.” Either you’re a really good actor, or some of your nerves slide off of you when you look up at him, and this time, he believes the smile. “But I guess I don’t have to tell you what he’s like, he isn’t really the talking type.” There’s a certain fondness in your eyes when you shrug. “You know, Seijuro bought me a ring five weeks into dating, when we were in high school. Said he knew what he wanted, and that he’d make me the happiest wife on the planet if I agreed.” You giggle. “At sixteen years old, he was already that way. I thought it was really romantic back then, his smittenness.”
This he remembers. Akashi talked about it in the locker room once, knowing you’d be cheering in the stands, he’s pretty sure he even showed off the ring despite the ridicule. Did you still wear Akashi’s jerseys back then? He can’t for the life of him figure out why he cares to remember so bad. Your tongue swipes out to brush your lips. “We’re a long ways out from high school now, huh?” Mibuchi’s hand twitches by his side as he watches the smile die out, but what the hell can he say. He wasn’t there for either of you, not really. If something did happen, would he even know?
His eyes sink down your face ever so briefly to your throat when you look off. There’s a mark purple and red where a necklace would have sat, bruised all around, and though faded- he stops smiling.
“What’s that?!” 
You jerk away with an uncomfortable glance, and a shake of your head. Fuck, he wants you to say something. He wants you to tell him some stupid story about a rash or a tumble, to tell him to fuck off and leave you be, because it isn’t his business- but you don’t. Maybe he does consider you a friend. “Hey, if- you ever need anything,” need help, he wants to say, but the word doesn’t make it out of his mouth. “You just have to ask, you know?” He doesn’t exactly expect you to drop everything and beg for aid in the middle of Kyoto, but the pristine calm that washes over you is almost eerie.
Your eyes find his. “Well— I- I want to visit my mom.” The tremble in your voice is soft, but it’s there, squeezing your fingers a little tighter. “Can you drop me off at the nearest train station? Seijuro’s off on a little business trip today, and he’s got his car. I don’t really… want to wait until he’s back.” A nagging little voice in the back of his head tells him not to get involved.
But the voice isn’t loud enough. “Of course, yeah.”
+
Akashi’s passes are bad today. He’s been on edge seemingly all practice, wiping sweat off the back of his neck as he talks to the manager- and Mibuchi doesn’t feel entirely comfortable just walking up to him. They don’t have the friendship they did in high school, and though he still appreciates the guy, there’s a space there that wasn’t there before. As if on cue, the redhead’s eyes flick up and meet his, differently colored eyes scanning him up and down, and Mibuchi looks away. He doesn’t want to seem too interested in your business, he’s pretty sure you wouldn’t want him to be either— but he can’t exactly pretend not to be curious anymore. It’s basically leaking out of him onto the polished floor.
Did you get home okay after? Did you and Akashi talk? Did you fight? 
The first hour results in a record of missed 3 pointers and shitty teamwork, so clearly the tension isn’t just in his head. Even their stern watcher of a coach eventually grits his teeth. “All of you, I want you to regroup before the end of the night, or I’ll have you dribbling until your arms fall off.” Everyone straightens out and gives a quick ‘yes, coach’. His eyes then slide to the Captain, and he crosses his arms. “Akashi, take a rest, you’re all over the place today.”
“You almost elbowed me in the face earlier, dude,” the shooting guard softly mumbles upon the prompt, and it’s barely a second before Akashi’s nose to nose with the man, his fist wound in the sweaty jersey by his throat. Everyone freezes up, and even the long-time coach is caught off guard by the sudden flare of anger. But Akashi doesn’t falter, and hisses out his words.
“Stay out of my fucking way then. This is my court, and you’re on my team. You serve me.”
The gruff older man stands up to separate the two with a short bark of the Captain’s name, as those devilish mismatched eyes flick up. “Akashi! Bench, now. You pull a stunt like that again and you’ll remain there.” It’s like there’s a black cloud over the entire gym that makes them hold their breath, until every so slowly, the fist unfurls and drops. The redhead doesn’t say another word, but his brows are just as furrowed as he steps back, and looks around. Those fiery eyes pass over Mibuchi just briefly, and he swears they stare a little longer than they should. “Now line up, you shitty little brats!”
“Yes, coach!”
Shoes squeak on the floor as they line up, and Mibuchi lingers on the interaction a bit longer. The shorter man catches the ball tossed at him, and slowly straightens up as he clicks his tongue. “Yes, coach.” He can’t shake the glare or the thinly laced impatience in his voice.
+
It displays almost three on the blinking alarm clock when the rattling at his door wakes him. There’s an impatient knock, and then another few ones about twenty seconds later that have him throwing the covers off. The house is as he left it for the night when he drags himself towards the entrance and waits for a moment longer, before a tiny sniffle catches him entirely off guard. It’s a woman. His tired mind still instantly comes upon you, and he unlocks the door when a hand again meets the wood.
The apartment light doesn’t fail him. It is you, though there’s a darkness under your eyes -smudged mascara- and your hands are bound before you, as you’re basically held up by your neck and you’re pushed into the doorway. Mibuchi stumbles as his hands land on your arms to stop your fall, and for a brief moment, everything seems okay.
Until the door is closed behind the three of you and the person who pushed glares with an anger that he can feel burn his skin. Akashi. The normally quiet, demanding Captain doesn’t have much of his usual restraint when he picks you back up by your arm and holds you out as if you’re a stolen toy— and he sneers as the hiss of his voice cuts. “You think I’m fucking stupid? I saw you looking at her all of last season’s practices. But she doesn’t actually want you, does she? She tried her very fucking best to run off, to no avail.” He briefly glares down at you when you whimper, and shake your head against the gag in your mouth. “Don’t pout, slut, you deserve to be punished. Don’t you think?”
You’re crying. Hard, a desperate, trashing cry that’s making his hairs stand upright. And he doesn’t think you could ever look ugly, but you’re definitely crying like you want the ground to swallow you up whole, and like the action of struggling this hard is causing you pain. “No, I don’t wanna.”
The entire scene doesn’t make any sense. Why are you — why is Akashi here? It fries his brain the longer he thinks, and his hands slowly slide off of your arms to take a tiny step back. “Captain…,” Mibuchi starts, reaching out to hold your hand. Akashi should let go of you. You’re hurt.
The movement has Akashi’s irises back on his teammate with fire, eyes wide and accusatory. “Move.” He takes you by your collar and drags you like you’re a kitten, before shouldering Mibuchi out of his own doorway to deposit you on the cold floor. It knocks him out of his daze enough to at least process the situation. This can’t be his former friend pulling something like this— but it’s playing out right before him. What the fuck? “I had to spend the entirety of yesterday driving up to Tokyo because of the stupid shit my flighty little wife pulled,” Akashi’s voice is tighter now, calmer, but not any less vicious as he watches you.
“Maybe if you get on your knees and beg my forgiveness, I won’t let everyone know what a fucking whore you are.” Through the gag, your muffled, pitched voice sounds out in the openness of his apartment. You look so pitiful, and Akashi’s not letting up as he grips your face to pull it only about an inch away from his own. “Apologize. You are mine. Doesn’t matter how far you run, you’re always going to be mine.” A thumb brushes along your cheeks to get rid of the silvery tracks. “I love you. You know I do.”
“You should let go of her,” his own voice comes before he has time to think it over. This situation is absurd, and he isn’t willing to just stand by to watch you get treated this way— at least, that’s until the other man turns to him and the brief moment of kindness is replaced by a darkness that flashes over his face.
The redhead’s hand disappears into his pocket, glaring at him from his elevated position in the baren light of the room. “Shut your fucking mouth, Mibuchi.” There’s not a sliver of familiarity left when he clicks his tongue, and like he’s the one who’s disgusted, narrows his eyes. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to.” The tense silence is only made more pressing by the way you give him those fearful eyes, shaking your head ‘no’ as the man before him steps a bit closer. “I am not here to ask your opinion… I’m here to punish her.” As he points in your direction, his hand comes out of his pocket with a knife, glittering brilliantly even in the dark, and is then aimed towards him. Your pinched crying starts up again when he pulls your head up by your hair, and Akashi raises an eyebrow.
“You think you’re the first with notions of heroism? This brat runs like it’s a hobby. You’re not special.” His eyes burn. “If I hear you talk to me again, I’ll hurt her,” he breathes, deathly serious as he turns to you, “and if you don’t obey, I’ll hurt him, okay? I know you don’t want that, baby doll.” When you wildly shake your head again, he kneels down by your side, and Mibuchi can’t do anything but watch as the spit-filled gag is pulled down your chin and Akashi cups your cheek to kiss you ever so softly. “I know, I know, it’s okay. You were being friendly, hm? You’d never use our friend here for your own protection. But you still let me find you, and now you get punished, you know that.”
“Seijuro, I’m sorry, please,” your voice barely sounds like you. It’s hoarser, desperate, and cracking with tears as wetness and snot runs on your face— “please let’s just go home. We don’t have to make up here, I won’t- I won’t run again, I promise.” Akashi stills for a second too long to pretend to be indifferent. But he still hardens up, and simply turns over his shoulder to look at the noiret with a cold look.
“Where’s the bedroom?”
“N- ‘Juro- no,” you start struggling again through your tears, and he wants to help you. “Please anything but this, I beg you! Seijuro!” Your poor wrists look rubbed raw because of the fabric, and be it the dejected look in your eyes or the sound of your cries ringing through his house -it sparks another surge of adrenaline in him. But the Captain doesn’t repeat himself, and the words ring through his skull. I’ll hurt her. “I’ll be your good girl-” you start, before dissolving into a mess of cries when the redhead wraps an arm around your belly and pulls you up onto your feet against him. You go soft and quiet when your face is against his chest, and Akashi presses the sharp blade of the knife into your neck.
“Well?”
“It’s to the left.” Mibuchi has no other choice, does he? He has no way of knowing if the man before him would actually hurt you— he doesn’t even know the person standing before him now. As he trails his eyes over the two of you in both worry and stress, the glitter of the ring on your finger doesn’t miss him. You really did get married, didn’t you? Was it always like this? He can’t imagine you’d have stayed as long as you have if it was… but then again, he clearly doesn’t know anything about Akashi. He doesn’t know anything about you either, from the looks of things.
“Come along,” Akashi says, leading the way to the abandoned bedroom with too steady a step. If he wasn’t so worried about getting you hurt -or worse- he could probably make a run for his phone charging on the kitchen counter. But by the time police got here, it’d be too late. So instead he just slowly, carefully follows behind as you’re deposited on the messed up sheets of his own bed, and stands in the doorway with baited breath. As Akashi slowly starts to undo each button of your silky pyjamas, a horrible feeling settles in his stomach, and he clears his voice. There’s no way it can be what he thinks it is. The stretch of skin revealed to him is littered with fresh hickeys, and Mibuchi looks away.
Not quick enough, clearly, because you pull up a sniffled breath and let out a little whine when Akashi hums. “Always make me embarrass you like this.” The soft lilt to his tone is almost gentle, if he wasn’t threatening you with a knife a minute earlier. “Crying like a baby until you get what you want, hm?” The ruffling of clothes is enough to have heat come up onto Mibuchi’s face, resolutely boring his eyes into the doorframe instead of you. Akashi can’t be serious. He clears his voice, and the Captain sighs. “So how long have you been in love with my wife?”
“Huh?” He looks up to see the way you’re holding the undone shirt to your chest and barely keeping your modesty, and Akashi giving him a blank look. “I- I’m not-”
“Sure you are. Just look at her.” He apraises you from his spot beside the bed, and runs his long fingers along your jaw and shoulder with a little breath. “She’s absolutely perfect. Aren’t you, baby? My beautiful little doll.” The kiss he lays onto your lips is genuinely soft, and loving, and a cold spike comes to Mibuchi’s spine at the sight of you melting into the touch despite everything. “Always perfect for me…” Akashi whispers, and then straightens up. “That’s exactly why I can’t let you go.”
He turns over his shoulder briefly to look at Mibuchi, and then sighs. “You should take a seat. I’m going to remind my little whore wife exactly who she belongs to- you sit and be quiet, understand?”
He can’t bring himself to answer verbally, but at the pleading look in your eyes -the one currently eating him up as much as it is sending hot flares down his body- he slowly takes the farthest corner of the bed and sits. Your eyes don’t manage to make it to his as Akashi unclasps your arms from around you and peels the last of your soft top off. His eyes flick down instinctively, he can’t help it, and makes his mouth a little more dry. You’re - beautiful, embarrassment coloring your cheeks and ears and chest with obvious humiliation that only makes the redhead hum. “You’re so pretty.” His rough palm comes under your face to grab it and force it to turn. “Look at Mibuchi, isn’t this what you wanted?”
“N-no,” you whimper, but bite your lip hard, and your chest rises and falls rapidly.
“You don’t like being watched?”
“You know I don’t,” your voice comes out soft, but there’s an edge there that only makes Akashi’s mouth twitch, as he forces you to uncross your legs. He starts work there too, peeling off your shorts down beautiful smooth thighs. The noiret tries to stop himself from watching so intently, he truly does, because it’s clear you hate every second that he stares. But — fuck, your little whimpers are making his heart race. He’s just a guy, and the stress, and flood of adrenaline is betraying him now. Once your shorts and panties are off, Akashi just watches for a moment, and you take a deep breath. “You can’t bully me into liking it, Seijuro.”
He barely reacts. Brushes his rough thumbs along your tits and over your nipples, and pushes you back on the bed. “Shhh. We’re having a moment, baby. I didn’t want to do this, you know?” Akashi speaks like he’s cherishing you with his lips hovering yours, nudging your one thigh apart to make room for his hand as he runs two fingers along your slit. “But you make me. You’re just a stupid, dumb girl acting out because you want to be reminded of who you belong to, hm?” You shiver, and he spits onto his hand to start grinding his rough palm against your pussy as you close your eyes.
“No. No, I don-”
“No? You did this with Aomine,” he sighs, working two of his thick fingers inside you and you wiggle and hide your face into your shoulder, “and you did this with Kise too. But you’re still here. You just like getting your pussy fucked hard when you make me mad. Say it.”
“Ah- Seijuro, I-” His fingers curl in you, and your back lifts off the bed as your mouth opens into a silent moan. “Ah, ah— I like getting my pussy- fucked h-hard,” your voice is barely a whimper, but it’s quiet in the room save for everyone’s labored breathing as the slick sound of your pussy gets messier and louder. As you’re curling your hips onto his hand and resisting the urge to really fuck yourself onto his fingers, he pulls his shirt over his head and reveals the hard on covered by flimsy basketball shorts— and you let out a squeak. “Seijuro, ‘juro, I feel- mh-” You can’t even string a proper sentence together as he grunts, and traps your poor clit against the fleshy part of his palm.
“You should apologize for using Mibuchi,” Akashi softly says, a faint little grin on his lips that shows the glee in his eyes even more. “Go on.”
“But I— I didn’t use- ah, ahh-fuck.” Your wetness is glistening every time Akashi pulls his hand back and forces long fingers back in you- and you stuff the fabric of the gag back between your lips just to bite it hard as your tits are squeezed and he pinches your clit until your thighs shake. Then you cry, and open teary eyes to the man still frozen at the end of the bed. He doesn’t want you to look. To notice the shame pooling in his gut. “‘M sorry for using you.” Your snively look is too much.
Akashi hikes one of your thighs to your chest as he pulls his cock out and only shakes his head a little in disbelief, before lining up and pushing the drooling, red head in one hard pump inside. You whine out, and he licks his teeth as he grabs your throat and squeezes. “Needy fucking bitch. If you want to get your cunt fucked harder, you- should-” Each thrust slaps hard against your skin and hikes you further up, tits bouncing as your hands grab his forearms. “learn- to ask. Now Mibuchi will have to fuck his fist thinking of you, hm? Your- ugh- fault.”
His cock grinds deep inside your belly, hitting that spot good enough that you can’t open your eyes. Your ring glitters like your slicked pussy does, and the silvery tears on your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you shake your head and sob, biting down on your puffy lips hard and clinging on. You look sorry. But with each thrust and squelch of your pussy taking Akashi as deep as you can, that look gets a little more faded. Maybe you're good at forgiving and forgetting.
You certainly look it.
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thinkingotherwise · 14 days
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Hi! I hope I'm not too late for a request but can you please do a head canon on Wind Breaker(satoru nii),Haruka(Platonic pls)& the Bofurin,Hajime,Hayato,Akihiko,Ren,Mitsuki,Kyotaro & Ren,with s/o who is haruka sakura's older sister, who is about 22 years old, she's a hikikomori, has the same personality as Haruka, unlike Haruka, she appreciates kindness & generosity, calls Haruka an idiot but has a heart even though they don't get along.Fem Haruka's older sister s/o, used to be a sweet kid to haruka, but somehow she got bullied due to not living up to high expectations as a girl & causes her to lose him & suffer trust issues who has no friends. Her personality is similar to zooble from the amazing digital circus pls. Sorry if this explanation is long.
No worries, write as much as you want. Though I honestly didn't know The Amazing Digital Circus and I watched the pilot just to get the feeling of Zooble's character. She's a MOOD. Also, I thought about making the reader hikikomori but I wanted her to live alone, so she came to be mostly social-distant and not keen on human interactions - I hope I captured the characteristics correctly. It's also more focused on platonic relationships. I hope it's still alright.
Wind Breaker characters x Haruka Sakura's older sister (mostly platonic)
characters as written in request: Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suou, Akihiko Nirei, Hajime Umemiya, Kyotaro Sugishita, Ren Kaji, and Mitsuki Kiryu TW: bullying (mentioned), manipulation (mentioned)
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- As the older sister of Haruka, you were the one who got him into training martial arts and fights, it was you who first saved him from bullies when they laughed at his hair and eyes. - You were the only one whom he could go to for comfort and the only one who hugged him whenever he needed it. - With time you got into more and more fights helping your younger brother and because of that, you got bruises in more visible places making your parents lecture you each time and each time it was worse. - You got in a lot of trouble not only with your parents but also with your boyfriend at that time, who just like them thought that girls shouldn't fight and whenever he saw your bruises he yelled at you saying that you look awful. - You didn't talk about it with anyone, and maybe that was your mistake because, after the n-th time of hearing such horrible words, you gave up. You changed and vowed to never fight again leaving Haruka alone. - Your emotions were in turmoil seeing Haruka beat up and knowing he had to fend for himself, especially when your so-called boyfriend started having heated conversations with him, but you still didn't interfere knowing that it wouldn't please others knowing that you as a girl fought. You didn't want to disappoint them more than you already did. - After some time your friends and boyfriend started turning on you. Even though they pretended to be nice, they were manipulating and soon started bullying you. - Every interaction with them started making you irritated and annoyed but you kept it in for the time being and as soon as school finished you cut everyone off, moved out of your home, and found a small flat in the nearby town. - All those false relationships had an influence on you and made you socially-distanced, you didn't want to feel more betrayed and kept your interactions with other people to a minimum. - You spent most of your time at home, thankfully you got online job and didn't need to leave your house. The only people you kinda appreciated and talked with were your neighbours who always asked how you were doing and sometimes gave you some snacks but you never let them in keeping them at a distance.
Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suou & Akihiko Nirei - Now then during one of your shopping trips Haruka recognized you. He was at one of the patrols and the sight of you, who left him, got him angry. - Nirei and Suou tried to get some information from him but he pushed them away and went to confront you. They tried to calm him down thinking he was about to beat some woman. - You heard the commotion and looked in their direction. Surprised to see your brother you became uncomfortable and tried to quickly leave. - They grew louder as Haruka started calling after and stopped you. Your irritation was apparent and you tried not to show how awkward you also were to see your brother. - "What do you want, pipsqueaks?" - "Huuh?! Pipsqueak?" - Your brother got annoyed and started lashing out at you saying you left him and why are you even here, that you should go back to all these people you chose instead of him. - Your blood boiled at the accusations and you raised your voice too, telling him how awful you felt, how everyone was putting pressure on you, and how you were never enough for all of them. - The loud argument was cut off by Suou, who proposed talking it all out privately. - You reluctantly invited them home and told them about the issues you had and that you were sorry you had to cut Haruka out of your life. - He left that day mad at you and it took him some time before visiting again. - You didn't expect to see him again and what was even more surprising was why he came. - Haruka tried to be angry and he told you, you were a coward for running away like that but that if you want you can start talking again. - It made you happy but also flustered and you tried to deny needing him and others. - Somehow after this meeting, the guys started visiting you and tried to get you used to becoming social again. - Talking with Suou was very calming and his understanding nature really helped you open up slightly more to others. - Nirei, however, was the one to fluster you the most, saying that you were pretty cool, as soon as he got to know you were the one who ignited the flame and fight skills in Haruka. - You were grateful for what they did and how hard they tried for you, so you let them introduce some other guys from Bofurin.
Hajime Umemiya & Kyotaro Sugishita - For you, Hajime was one of, if not, the most annoying. - "What? Oh God, please no, I don't want to take part in any of your so-called family meetings." - You responded once again when he invited you to the cafe he frequented with friends. - Even though you tried to push him away he was sticking to you like a leech, constantly trying to make you see that you can trust people again. - He annoyed you so much and you tried to act tough and not be swayed by him but you would lie if you said he didn't grow on you. - His friend, Sugishita, however, seemed to be the complete opposite of Umemiya. - Your first meeting went so wrong. - When you first met him, he was in the middle of arguing with your brother, and seeing him ready to throw a punch awakened some protective instinct in you, that you felt a long time ago when it came to Haruka. - "What the hell, you better step the fuck away or I'll make you." - You stopped his hit gripping his fist and ready to beat him to a pulp. - "Hey, now, now let's calm down." - Thankfully Umemiya stopped you and cleared the situation between you and the first year. - After the next few meetings although still alert near Sugishita you found comfort sitting in silence next to him, he was a great escape from Umemiya and his constant yapping.
Ren Kaji - You met Ren once, maybe twice and both of them he ogled you as if judging your mood and emotions. - Then he would reach for his pockets and hand you lollipops. - Just like with Sugishita you appreciated the silence when you stayed near him. - Occasionally the silent sounds coming from his headphones, as he listened to the music, calmed you down and brought comfort to you.
Mitsuki Kiryu - Mitsuki seemed to be the one hardest to get along with, his style was loud and clashed so badly with your shut-in personality. - Surprisingly he made a good substitute for all the friends you had during your high school years, he wasn't false like them and he actually listened to your complaints. - Not to mention the late evenings you spent on "girls talk" when you felt more in the mood for some social interaction. - He'd always have all the newest gossip to share.
Tags: @misticbullet
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mr2swap · 3 months
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Family therapy: A promising future.
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-What do you think of “dad”? The first place medal again, aren't you proud of me?- After the flash of the photo I looked at his old and tired face, he barely made a small smile that seemed totally fake, I knew what was hidden behind his smile, only jealousy and bitterness, I was sure what was going through his mind right now:
“That should be me, you stole my youth, my life, my triumphs”
But I think deep down he knew that all of that was a lie, he wouldn't have been able to get to where his body is now if it wasn't for me his father, Before I took his life he was just a teenager slowly approaching failure.
-HEY! Let's take a picture with just the guy for the hall of fame
My Ex-wife Karol and my son Nathan walked away from me and The photographer started taking pictures of my perfect body, When I did a double bicep curl the camera flash focused completely on me, My son Nathan's face of defeat In my old body was just funny. Maybe at one point Nathan could have accomplished all of this on his own, but now he was just a sad, overweight old man.
-Congratulations… “Son”-
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Before I was a retired man, I used to be a teacher and had seen hundreds of kids like my son Nathan, he started skipping a few classes, failing most of the tests, going to the infirmary in PE and then getting caught smoking pot with his friends behind school. I knew if I didn't do something drastic, what would be the end of my son Nathan frying French fries at McDonald's and living in a tiny apartment with his teenage sweetheart who is pregnant.
His mom and I were so sick of Nathan we started fighting, and it led to a divorce, the only thing I had left in my life was Nathan and I couldn't let that last one slip through my hands.
Since there was someone who could help me and that was my old boss and friend, Principal Morris, we had done this trick so many times to deal with the Bullies in the school, just swapping their bodies for a week with their victims would make them turn model students.
I called him and I found out my problem with my son, without asking him, he gave me the recipe for his secret elixir, the body swapping potion, it was enough for two people to drink a bit of that potion, and they would immediately be in each other's bodies, and that I did I poured some into my coffee and into Nathan's breakfast juice, he didn't even notice the taste he drank every drop of that juice until he started to feel the effects of the potion.
Just a little dizziness, A little sleep and a blink later Our souls traded places occupying each other's bodies. Nathan was so confused by the identical person in front of him that he ran off to his room like a madman, he didn't even realize his huge belly was bouncing up and down as he ran his little feet around his old room where I sleep now.
Meanwhile, I was left alone in the dining room admiring my new youth In the kitchen mirror, It felt good to be a teenager again Although there was a lot of work to be done, I ran my hands over my soft and weak arms, but I already had everything planned, he had even bought a membership to the gym that was close to Nathan's school.
When everything seemed calmer in Nathan's room, pretending totally that you didn't know what hadn't happened, I spent hours pretending that I was on the computer looking for my information on body switching and things like that so that Nathan wouldn't suspect that I had something. What to do with this
I tried to calm him down by telling him that he wouldn't have to worry about anything in my body, he could sit his ass on the sulfate all day Watching TV or playing his video games and no one would notice that he was really just a 15-year-old, meanwhile I would go to the school and would pretend to do it.
As the years passed I improved Nathan's life, in just one year Nathan's life improved, his grades were perfect, and all the dedication I put into Nathan's diet and gym paid off, Nathan's adolescent muscles reacted very well to protein powder and weight lifting.
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I got rid of the good for nothing, my son's friends and started making new friends at the gym my Gym bros, It's great to be young again, making friends is so easy, especially when you look as big and handsome as me.
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And while I was living My second life they need, he didn't seem to get used to his new life, he avoided leaving the house as much as possible, and he became grumpy, all he does is clean the house, go to the supermarket and spend all day insulting kids his age while playing online video games, He hates when I walk shirtless around the house demanding my hard horny muscles or when I pose for the pictures I post on my new Instagram, he was so upset that his life has improved so much that he refused to give me his social media passwords, but it's okay there's nothing to make me proud of old Nathan.
Maybe in a couple of years when Nathan learns what it's like to be an adult responsible for getting back into his body In the meantime I'll enjoy myself a little more being a teenager, maybe I'm ready for dating now, I've always wanted to try something new, and I can't stop From looking at all the hot guys in the gym, and they keep staring at me, I don't think Nathan will mind if I fuck a guy or two while I'm in his body.
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Sup If you liked this story or any of my other stories you can take a look at my story archive by subscribing to my page on Ko-fi, there are a lot of stories that haven't been published here yet and that are too hot for Tumblr.
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corroded-hellfire · 1 year
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Kitten Licks - Eddie Munson x Reader
Note: Eddie Munson and cats are literally two of my favorite things in the world, so voila. 
Summary: Eddie goes to feed the stray cats in the trailer park, but when he gets there, he finds a girl he’s never met before.
Warnings: none i don’t think?
Words: 1.7k
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There were a lot of misconceptions about living in a trailer park. Everyone assumed people in Forest Hills would have a specific, southern accent, despite the fact that it was Indiana. Not every home was worn down, though there were some that had gone a few years without upkeep. Most everyone was clean, and Eddie could come up with maybe one person who was missing some teeth. But one part of the trope proved true at the small community in Hawkins. There were trailer park cats.
           They’d been there as long as Eddie could remember, and he’d been secretly feeding them for just as long. Giving food to stray cats didn’t fit in with his brand of DND playing metal head, but he had a soft spot for the furballs. Eddie used to hide the bag of cat food under his bed when he was a kid but stopped trying to hide his compassion for the animals and started keeping it in the pantry. He didn’t care if Wayne knew.
           New kittens were born every few months it seemed, and the meowing gang was always growing in size. The cats spent most of their time at the edge of the forest that neighbored the trailer park, but if Eddie went a few days without showing up, they’d venture further into the park to seek him out. He did his damnedest not to name them so he wouldn’t get attached, but he couldn’t help but give monikers to some of his favorites.
           Today had been a rougher than usual day for Eddie. Not that school wasn’t always brutal with the bullying and the hard classes and the snotty popular kids, but Eddie was pretty sure a third first day of senior year would be shitty for anyone. Third time was a charm, hopefully?
As soon as Eddie got home, he had the itch to get high. He knows himself though, and knows he’ll get super hungry, so he goes to grab a bag of chips to bring with him in his room. When he opens the pantry, his eyes land on the bag of cat food. Eddie’s brows pinch together as he tries to remember the last time he went to visit the felines. It’s been a little while. Normally, some of the cats would have made their way to the trailer by now. Especially the biggest one, a ginger tabby who acted like the leader of the pack. Tommy, Eddie calls him. He knows Tom Cat isn’t the most original name, but it’s not like he shares this with anyone anyway. Maybe he’s named after Tommy Lee, Eddie tells himself.
Eddie grabs the bag of food and heads towards the door. Hopefully the cats were alright. He wasn’t sure the last time they were this patient in waiting for him. Black boots thunk down the porch steps and Eddie makes his way to the edge of the property. His mind is wandering, straying to the different classes and teachers he had this year and if it was likely he’d actually pass everything this time around. Body on autopilot, Eddie turns around the last trailer before the cat hideout comes into view. Normally, when he swung around this corner, the meows in anticipation for food would begin. But there was silence. Eddie’s heart lurches at the silence until he sees the gaggle of cats in their normal spot, most of them already eating.
There’s a girl in the middle of the group, sitting among the cats. Small bowls surround her and by the smell, Eddie assumes they’re filled with tuna fish. Eddie tilts his head in curiosity and walks closer to the girl. Some of the cats lift their heads and meow at him in greeting. A few rub against his legs as he walks and he can’t help but smile down at them.
The meows make the girl turn around to look behind her and Eddie’s chest immediately aches. He doesn’t know where the phrase “heart skipped a beat” came from, because it felt like his was a thundering drum roll. She smiles at him, and every thought leaves his head. She’s hands down the most beautiful girl Eddie has ever seen.
“Hi,” she says. Her voice is even better than the sound of his guitar.
“Hi,” Eddie answers. He knows he’s staring but he doesn’t know how to fix it. Her hair is so shiny, and her smile is so perfect, how could anyone not stare? He manages to shake off his shock and sits down next to the girl. A small gray kitten climbs in his lap and lets out a piercing mewl. Eddie reaches down to scratch between his ears before looking back at the girl.
“You’re new here.” It’s not a question. He knows he would’ve noticed her before.
“I am,” she confirms. “Just moved from Kentucky.”
“And what brings you to this paradise?” Eddie asks as an all-black cat purrs and rubs itself against the girl’s arm.
“My mom.” She looks down and strokes her hand over the black cat’s messy fur. “Hiding from the latest ex-boyfriend of hers.”
“Oh.” He didn’t know how to respond to that. He wasn’t sure she’d want to talk about it, anyway. “It seems the cats like you.”
“Are you why they trusted me as soon as they smelled the food?” She smiles and nods her head at the bag of cat food at his feet.
“Must be,” he answers. “I’ve never seen anyone else feed them. But now that you’ve given them the good stuff, they might not be so satisfied with this dry bargain brand crap.”
Her smile crinkles her eyes and Eddie knows he’s a goner. But as if to prove him wrong about the food, Tommy stalks over and starts to chew on the bottom corner of the cat food bag.
“Dude,” Eddie says. He pulls the bag away so he can pour some out. “You didn’t have enough tuna, huh?”
“He didn’t have any,” the girl tells him. “He’s the only one who wouldn’t come near me.”
“Really?” Eddie looks over at her in surprise as Tommy begins to crunch the food on the grass in front of him. “He’s the one I can count on to seek me out if I haven’t been by in a few days.”
“That’s so cute,” she gushes. “He must really like you.”
Eddie shrugs and looks back to the orange cat. He keeps his eyes down on the food, never glancing up at Eddie to make sure he isn’t going to try and take it away.
“I guess he trusts me,” Eddie says.
“Where are you at?” the girl asks. “How far does the cutie have to venture to find you?”
“Oh. Just around the corner there,” Eddie says, gesturing in the direction of his trailer.
“Near Max?” she asks.
“You’ve met her?”
“Yeah, I live in the trailer next to hers,” she says.
“I live right across from her.”
“Oh.” She sounds pleasantly surprised, to Eddie’s delight. “That’s good to know. You go to Hawkins High?”
“Unfortunately,” he says.
“Tell me about it,” the girl says with a sigh. “I had a bad first day, so I decided to come out here with the cats.”
“Really?” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “I did the same. Somehow these fuzzballs can make a bad day better.”
“They do,” she agrees. A small tortoiseshell kitten crawls in her lap and settles down for a nap. “Okay, don’t make fun of me, but I named this one.”
Eddie watches as she strokes her finger down the multicolored cat’s spine.
“I’m the last one to make fun of anybody,” Eddie says. “Plus, this big guy here is Tommy to me, anyway.”
She grins up at Eddie before looking back down to the kitten. “I named this cutie Ember. Because she has those little spots of orange that look like little fireballs.”
“That’s perfect,” Eddie says. And he means it. The name suits the sleeping little bundle of fur in her lap. “I’m Eddie, by the way.”
           She introduces herself and little Ember meows her high-pitched little kitten meow when she says her name. Both she and Eddie laugh, but not too loudly for fear of waking her up again.
           “I’ve never had a pet before,” she says. Her eyes never leave Ember as she scratches between her ears.
           “Neither have I,” Eddie replies. “I doubt these guys have ever had owners.”
           “Guess it’s a mutual relationship, then,” she says. She scratches under Ember’s chin for a few quiet minutes before she speaks, keeping her eyes on the kitten the whole time. “Can I ask you something?”
           “Sure.” He almost said “anything,” but he was able to keep it in at the last moment.
           “Would it be okay if I had lunch with you at school?” She swallows thickly and Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if her eyes were tearing up by the hitch in her voice. “You seem nice and today I had lunch out in the parking lot by myself.”
           “Of course,” Eddie says. “But I should warn you.”
           Now she looks up at him and her eyes are just barely shiny from unshed tears.
           “Of what?” she asks.
           “I sit with the biggest losers,” Eddie says with a laugh. “We all play Dungeons and Dragons and like the nerdiest shit. So, you might be called a freak just for associating with us.”
           She shrugs and shakes her head. “You don’t sound like freaks to me. You sound like a good group of friends. I would love to sit with you.”
           “We’d love to have you.” He pauses, internally debating before he gives in and continues. “I’d love to have you.”
           She smiles thankfully and Eddie isn’t sure he’s going to get used to that thumping in his chest she’s giving him.
           “Does the cafeteria serve good food?” she asks.
           “It’s not the best. Why?”
           She giggles and nods her head at Ember in her lap.
“I gave them all my lunch for the week.”
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Silent Cosmos (Edward Cullen) (Ch. 2)
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Pairing: Edward Cullen x GN! Mute!Reader
Words: 4.0k+
Warning(s): Intense car accident scene (its a nightmare/memories. involves blood, gore/body horror), mentions of minor character death/parents dying, swearing, anxiety/stage fright, bullying at Forks mentioned but no scenes depicting it, edward watches MC sleep lmao
A/N: Here is chapter two! I really like this one personally. There is a lot of just narrative, but a good amount of dialogue too. I enjoyed writing the Edward and MC scenes :^) I hope you guys like it too. Taglist is at the bottom.
Series Masterlist
"Bright Star, while thou thy lonely way
Pursu'st in yon expanse of blue,
Thy gem-like form and steady ray
Attract the heedless peasant's view...
...And fancy whispers in mine ear,
That those who once were here beloved,
To friendship and affection dear,
Now from this fleeting scene removed,
Repose, bright star, in thy ethereal sphere."
-- William B. Tappan, "To the North Star"
---
You sigh as you look at several outfits you laid out on your bed. It was Saturday and you spent much of your time getting the last few things unpacked before tonight. The former captain, the firefighters, and the sheriff decided to throw a party at the station for your uncle. Being his immediate family, you had to attend. Your eyes lingered on an outfit that would look nice but would also be comfortable and casual.
As you started getting ready, you began recalling the week you had at your new school. Like Emmett promised, he looked out for you in gym. Apparently, some of the students thought it would be funny to try and target the new kid in the various games the teacher had the class do. Emmett stayed by your side, helping catch dodgeballs or watching your back for 'stray' balls from volleyball. He was easy to get along with. You appreciated that he was more laid back and seemed to always have a smile on his face.
You met Jasper in history. You sat next to him with Alice on his other side. He was tense and looked like he was in pain. You wanted to express concern for him, but recognized through your own experiences dealing with chronic pain from your accident that it can be annoying to have people ask if you're alright. So, you gave him a smile and as the week came on you two were friendly. Alice helped with that of course.
Alice was already treating you as if you both had known each other for years. It was overwhelming at first, but you found that her bright smile and eagerness to talk with you endearing. She has already offered to take out for a shopping and lunch day several times, which you may take her up on next weekend if she were to ask again. You appreciated her friendliness.
You met Rosalie during lunch and met her a second time by your locker; hers and Emmett's were next to yours. Edward had managed to convince you to sit with them the next day after your first. She absolutely, drop dead gorgeous and you couldn't help but stare. You remembered the tense glare she gave you when you sat with them and you almost wanted to bolt out of the cafeteria. Her face softened though when Emmett whispered something in her ear and place a quick peck on her cheek. Still, she almost kept her distance from you and made very minimal steps in engaging in conversation.
The Cullen children were nice. You would be a fool if you couldn't tell there was something amiss with them. They all had matching eyes gold eyes though you noticed by the end of Thursday a few of them had nearly pitch black eyes. There were also times when Alice would stare off to space or Edward would laugh under his breath at nothing. You remember one day you brushed your hand against Edward's as you both reached for his fallen pencil, and you noticed how cold his skin was.
But, despite the discrepancies you've picked up, you liked them. They actually sought to engage in conversation with you since they could under stand sign. Their eyes never lingered or blatantly stared at the raised scars on your neck, not even when you first met them.
That's not to say everyone else ignored you. You had some students talk to you with the help of Edward or any of the other Cullens that lingered around you, but, you could tell quite a few were hesitant in speaking with you. You could feel their curious eyes stay on your neck until yours met theirs. You were used to that from your old school, though at least most of the people here were polite.
There have been a few mean comments and some weird rumors spread about you already. Most of them revolved around you being with Edward for most of the school day. You only heard their directed comments towards you in the morning before first period, when you weren't with a Cullen. You paid it no attention. Some remarks hurt, but as long as they didn't outright say it to your face or harm you, you let their remarks roll off your back.
You applied finishing touches to your look for tonight's party as you concluded your recount of your week at Forks High. You looked in your full body mirror, smoothing our creases in the fabric before approving of what you picked out for yourself. You wondered how the party was going to go. Your uncle, Robert, and your aunt, Phoebe, were bound to go off and converse with others.
Were you to just follow them around or would you stay in a corner until the night was over?
You close your eyes and sigh deeply.
You heard your aunt call your name downstairs.
"It's almost time to go, honey!" She yelled. You open your eyes and give yourself one last glance over in the mirror. You put on a tense smile before leaving your room, heading downstairs.
"You look great." Phoebe smiled, bringing you into a tight hug. You look at her and gave her a thumbs up. She looked good too, her dress fitting her nicely and her makeup was minimal but still beautiful.
When you first started living with her and your uncle it was almost too much. Phoebe looked so much like your mother, her sister. It took a few months to not see your mother in her, but thankfully your brain, despite the trauma you experienced, started registering her as Phoebe. You two have been close since.
"You look good too. That dress is always a good choice." You sign, smiling at her.
"I'm glad you told me to hold onto it. I can't believe I considered getting rid of it when we packed." She laughed and did a small twirl.
You heard a wolf whistle and look over to the stairs at your uncle, who had a cheeky grin as he stared at his wife.
"You look stunning." He winked to your aunt. He then looked at you with a smile. "You look great too. I like what you did with your hair."
"Wow, you actually know how to dress up, Rob." You chuckle, teasing him. Robert was a big believer in comfort and practicality over looking nice so it was rare to see him in something stylish like this.
"Oh ha ha." He said dryly but kept a smile. He glanced down at his watch and his eyes widened. "Shoot, we got to get going. I don't want to be late to a party thrown for me."
---
There were a lot more people at the fire station than you were anticipating. You expected the crew and their families and the sheriff maybe, but this was a lot more than that. Forks is a small place, maybe this was a rare event here. Regardless, you were glad to see many welcome your uncle to Forks and to the station.
It had been about fifteen minutes since you and your family arrived. You had met all the other firefighters and their families; met Sheriff Charlie Swan and his daughter Bella, who you recognized from your history class; and met various of other Forks citizens who came to meet the new captain. A few familiar faces from school floated around at the station too, though you only met three that were children to the other firefighters.
You glance to the large clock on the wall and glanced to your uncle, who was with the former captain. They were getting ready to go to where a microphone was placed in the station for a welcoming speech in about 10 minutes. You were standing idly by you aunt as she conversed with a few of the wives of other firefighters. Even if you could comfortably speak, you wouldn't know what to even talk about with these women. Your aunt discussed her career as a nurse while the others talked about their jobs.
You heard your name being said behind you by an all too familiar voice. Your face brightened with a small smile when you saw Edward. Next to him was a man and woman you've never seen but could tell they were also Cullens by their golden eyes.
"I didn't expect you here." You walked up to him, then glanced at the two with him.
"My father is the chief physician in Forks so he was invited." Edward gestured to the blond man.
"Hello, I'm Carlise." He offered his hand.
"And I am Esme, Edward's mother." She also offered her hand. You shook both, noting how cold their skin was. "Alice is around here somewhere, probably talking with Bella."
"Nice to meet you both."
"It's nice to meet you too, Edward here has talked a lot about you." Esme grinned, a teasing look in her eyes. You saw Edward give her a embarrassed look which made you silently laugh.
"Ah, the man of the hour." Carlisle grinned and step forwards. You jump a little when you see your uncle's arm from your side. You didn't even hear him approach with your aunt in tow.
"You must be Dr. Cullen." Your uncle grinned. Immediately your aunt and uncle and Edward's parents fell into an easy conversation, leaving just you and Edward.
"Are you having fun?" The bronze haired male asked.
"It is nice. I've mostly been following them around." You gesture to your guardians. "I am curious about the refreshment table though, so I may head over there."
"Would you mind some company?" Edward tilted his head slightly, his lips upturned into a small smile. You give him a nod and start making your way over to the food, he followed close behind.
One thing you picked up is the Cullens drew attention no matter what. You can see people's eyes linger on you and Edward. You noticed their stares when you met his parents. And if you could find Alice, you were sure people's gazes would linger. You got used to it in school, but it seemed more awkward when it appeared many people outside of Forks High had their focus on them.
"Everything alright?" Edward's voice was soft as he spoke.
"Yep." You give him a tense smile as you reached the table, looking over the contents.
'I just wish people here didn't have staring problems. Who cares if they look good?' You thought as you grabbed a small plate and started picking up things you liked. You swore you heard Edward chuckle next to you. You look back to him and gesture to the spread as if you were asking if he was going to eat.
He held up a hand and shook his head. "We ate before we came here."
You nodded and quickly ate what you picked out.
Right as you finished your last bite, you heard tapping through the speaker. Looking over to where they set up a microphone you saw your uncle and the former captain of the station. You throw away your plate and keep your spot next to Edward.
"Thank you everyone for coming!" Theodore, the former captain, greeted. Everyone clapped and a few people let out loud 'whoops.' "We are here today to welcome Robert Kennard to the station, our new fire captain."
Your uncle waved and smiled.
"Forks welcomes you warmly, despite the constant cold weather." Many in the crowd softly chuckles at Theodore's words. "And I can speak for the crew in that everyone looks forward to working with you." The former captain steps back from the microphone, letting your uncle step up.
"Hello! Thank you guys for putting this on." He laughed and raised a glass of what you assumed was champagne. "I was concerned at first. When I got offered the position while I was still down in California, I was worried about moving my family up here... starting a new life. However, their support has been unwavering and here we are now."
You heard him call your aunt's name and your name. You froze.
You could see your aunt make her way up to him but you were hesitant. It wasn't that you didn't want to support him, but you weren't sure why a sudden rush of anxiety hit you. You take a step forward but pause.
"Are you alright?" Edward asked softly, his thick brows furrowed as he leaned forward, maintaining eye contact.
You purse your lips and give him a subtle shake of your head. You saw him look confused for a split moment before his facial expression went back to concerned.
"Would you like me to walk forward with you?" You nod at his suggested. He nodded slowly with a small smile and placed a hand between your shoulder blades. Gently, he pushed you forward and guided you to the front. His form stayed next to yours as you moved through the people to get to the front of the small crowd.
When you got close enough to your uncle, you felt Edward's hand leave your back as you kept walking forward. You glance back over your shoulder and saw him waiting at the front, his golden honey eyes never left your form. You flanked your uncle on his right while Phoebe stood at his left.
"To my lovely wife Phoebe, thank you for encouraging me to take this step in my career. Your support has me falling in love with you every second." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. People in the crowd aww'd. "And to you," He looked to you with a smile full of fondness. "Your support towards mine and your aunt's careers has been so appreciative. Raising you as if you were my own has been such a treasure, thank you." He then hugged you tightly before turning to the crowd. "Thank you guys for having us here."
The people attending clapped and cheered. You smiled at how warm the welcoming was, though that feeling of anxiety still lingered. The three of you stepped away from the microphone as the former captain came up to give a final few words. You glanced around for either Edward or Alice, but saw them both in conversation with Carlisle and Esme.
You take a deep breath and excuse yourself from your family. You weave through bodies and made your way outside. The cold air immediately nipped at your face as you wrapped your arms around yourself. You walk over and lean against your uncles pick-up truck.
You look up to the night sky and smile. It seems like the constant cloud cover pulled back enough for you to see the stars and moon. You felt giddy at just how bright the stars looked. You felt at ease now. You felt comforted under the night sky.
'Ah Polaris, my old friend.' You sigh contently when you found that bright star shining brightly in the inky black sky.
"Are you okay?" Edward's voice startled you. You jumped a bit and looked back at him with wide eyes, your heart felt like it was racing wildly in your chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"No worries, I assumed nobody would come outside." You offer a friendly smile, keeping your eyes on him as you felt yourself begin to ease.
"Parties aren't... my thing." He joined you, leaning against the truck. "Carlisle asked me to come along."
"I'm not big on parties like this either. I like smaller get togethers."
There was a brief moment of silence before he spoke again, repeating his previous question. "Are you okay?"
You exhale, your breath visible in the air.  "Yes. Just felt overwhelmed and wanted space."
"Ah. I can leave then."
"You can stay. I know you after all."
---
Edward smiled sincerely when you told him he could stay. Even though Alice and Esme did point out you left out and made comments for him to follow you, he chose to join you on his own. He wanted a moment of peace away from the other humans... and he wanted to explore your mind more.
He tried peering into your thoughts again as a comfortable silence washed over the both of you. Ever since you sat next to him on your first day at Forks High, he attempt to discern your mind. He was still confused at the presence of such a detailed cosmos that lies in your thoughts and how it wasn't always there.
Edward noticed he could always hear your thoughts when you communicated with him or others. However, outside of that he never was sure if he would be hearing your voice or viewing that space. He picked up you weren't aware of this. Nothing you ever did or said gave him any reason to suspect you were purposely putting up this galaxy to block him out. He also kept track at how the galaxy would coincide with your emotions. When you were stressed about going up to your uncle earlier, he could almost feel heat against his mind. He could see how bright the sun residing in the middle had gotten until he was pushed out, which was another thing he noticed.
It was like the galaxy was trying to keep him at arms length from you; always forcing him away from peering too deep into your mind.
Edward shifted his eyes to looking at the sky like you were doing, but his focus was purely on your thoughts. He saw the familiar galaxy once again and this time, it was the most serene he has ever seen it. The sun at the center, still bright, was calm. He didn't feel heat pushing him out. He just saw stars, planets, and various colors around. It was peaceful. Compared to the many thoughts from the party goers back in the fire station, this was nice.
Edward felt welcomed in this vast cosmos.
The scene melted away rather than push him out, causing him to look at you. You were now staring at him with an unreadable gaze.
"Do you know any constellations?" You asked him. It didn't take reading your thoughts to know how excited you were at the prospect of discussing this with him.
"No, I don't." He lied. In the 1970s he spent some time studying the stars. "But I take it you do? Can you tell me?"
"Sure!" He could barely contain the large grin threatening to form on his face at how excited you were.
He could hear your thoughts in tandem as you signed. You would tell him the constellation name and then point it out in the sky. You'd lean close to him, your arm barely brushing against his, as the the other raised up to the sky. He'd subconsciously lean in as well, easily finding said constellation on his own but he let you help him 'find' it. You hadn't mentioned to him before how much you adored stars, but it came to no surprise to him after seeing what goes on in your mind.
Showing him constellations came to an end when neither could see more through the lingering clouds. That didn't stop you from pointing out the brightest star in the black sky.
"The North Star represents guidance and direction." You explained to him. "For hundreds of years, it provided guidance to anyone who needed it in many ways."
'It helped after the accident.' Edward heard from your thoughts. It had him curious and he tried delving more but all he saw was space and felt heat keeping him at bay.
"You must really like stars." He smiled gently.
"Yes, I've been drawn to them since I was young. My dad was into anything space related, so I guess that's were it came from." You smiled, though the vampire could see a certain sadness lingering in your eyes. He then saw you shiver and immediately started shrugging off the coat he wore. "Wait, you'll get cold, Edward."
"Don't worry about me. I will be fine." He spoke softly, his lips upturned. He placed the coat over your shoulders and you gingerly slip your arms into the sleeves.
Confusion briefly flashed on your face. 'I expected some warmth. Ah well, this is still nice.'
Edward had to contain his chuckle at the thought that slipped through.
"Do you still want to stay out here for a few more minutes?" He asked.
"Yes, just a few more minutes."
---
It was near midnight when Edward slowly opened your bedroom window. He felt some guilt as he waited for you to finally fall asleep, but his interest in your mind hand him wondering what he would see when you were unconscious. Would that galaxy appear to him when you were asleep, or would he have full access to your dreams?
He easily slipped into your room, leaving the window open. His eyes scanned around at the various posters you had placed on the walls and the decorations lying around. He saw one half unpacked box in the corner then shifted his gaze to you, tucked under your covers in a deep slumber. There were a few plushies in bed with you and he couldn't contain a small smile when he saw one on the floor. Carefully and silently, he walked over and crouched down. He picked up the stuffed cat and leaned over, setting it aside next to the others. He found himself back near the window and zeroed in on your mind.
He saw a grassy field and a woman sitting on a blanket. He heard high pitched giggles from who he assumed was you as you ran around. It was clear he was seeing your memories. You were running, squealing, and giggling in what Edward could make out as a park. You glanced behind yourself as you ran and could see a man chase after you. He could make out the similarities in his face with your current face. Suddenly, you tumbled and hit the ground with an 'oof.' Your father immediately helped you up and sat you on his knee.
"Aww, poor baby. Are you okay?" He cooed.
"Yeah! My leg hurts, but I'm fine!" You giggled. Your father held your leg and your focus was now on your bloody knee.
"Hmm, you must of snagged it on a rock. Lets get you back to momma, my little nova." You were lifted up and Edward watched through your memories as you were brought to your mother on a picnic blanket.
Suddenly, he thrown into a new memory. He suddenly felt dread in his being.
It was dark.
He could hear what sounded like a car blinker non-stop clicking. You groggily blink and Edward started making out that you were upside down. He heard gargling and pained noises come from you. Your eyes barely focused but he started making out you were upside down in a car at night. He can see bright lights from the front and shards of glass. Then he sees all the blood and what looked like a severed arm on the ground. It was attatched to a feminine hand with a gold band on the ring finger.
"Sweetie? Oh God..." He sounded in pain and like he was crying. Edward then heard your name from your father. "Nova please answer me. Fuck, please."
You responded, but it wasn't a word. It sounded like you tried to say daddy, but it came our jumbled and wet.
"Nova-!"
Suddenly, all Edward could hear was a high pitched noise. It was the same he heard when Alice replayed her vision to him. A blinding light filled the car.
Then, it was that same galaxy. However, it was turbulent. He could see planets shake and stars dim. A sun, larger than ever glowed brightly before an eruption from the Sun's atmosphere blasts out and hits hum with intense heat. He stumbles back as his vision is back in your room, right as you woke up gasping for air.
Without you catching him, he was out of your room and in the forest. His eyes were blown wide and if he had to breath, he knew the wind would of been knocked out of him at all he viewed. He felt the sting of venom-tears fill his eyes.
"Fuck..." He muttered and sat down on the forest floor. His fingers carded his hair before he clutched tuffs.
---
Taglist: @buckybarnes-1917​, @trawberry-fire​ , @dreamy-caramel​, @urgirlfriendspage​
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