#I kinda realised why I never listened to this halfway through

[magicalbilly]

New albums I listened to like a fucking week ago jesys crust I'm a mess these days:

Gorillaz - The Fall (2011)

#gorillaz #a personal RECORD (getit?) #I kinda realised why I never listened to this halfway through #It's very disjointed and really dies feel like it was made in hotel rooms between shows #Like it's gsides but without the good

[ae-neon]

Part 2 of just posting my writing instead of deleting it even if I don't like it

Rhys x Nesta as Mates (but not really? But kinda. Listen, I can't write mates the way SJM does, it's not my culture.)

For context, it's set during Frost and Starlight and he is still with and loves Feyre

tw: alludes to SA

As usual, sleep did not come.

It didn’t seem to matter that he’d drunk enough to drown an Illyrian war camp, or that he’d slipped away from the others halfway through the night to get away from her – and from who he might become around her.

Feyre had dragged herself to bed, kissed and touched him, and the familiar need had reared its head. The need to please, to perform. It was the need to express gratitude that her eyes were blue and not black, her hair golden and not red, her touch giving and not taking.

And so he did, hoping it might wear him down, pull him into sleep, and free him from his anxiety.

But it did not, it never did.

So Rhys slipped from the bed, materialized his clothing and wings then took to the sky. The air was cold, blowing down snow from the Steppes and chilled with the dark of the longest night of the year.

He thought of his sister, of their mother and how for the first time in years solstice did not feel lonely. Not because of his family, though he was grateful to have them, but because he’d felt the house – it’s magic – pulse again in Nesta's presence.

At first, in those weeks he had brought Feyre's sisters home while she had returned to Spring, it had felt like a cruel joke that made his gut twist with anger. Why her?

He had eventually moved them to the town house to get her out, to pretend he couldn’t feel the power of his court surge to greet her.

He’d wondered once, mind addled with Day Court liquor, if Nesta knew what they were – if that’s what had kept her sane when Elain had frayed.

He’d almost thrown up when he realised he wanted to believe it did.

Anger and disgust had been all he could cling to until that night in the library where all of it had melted in the feel of her mouth.

Rhys landed, silent and weightless, on a rooftop hidden in the shadow of its neighbour. He slid down against the now familiar heated brick of the chimney and watched as Nesta went about her night.

She’d agreed to come to Solstice at Feyre’s half-hearted request.

He knew it irked at some small part of Feyre when Nesta proved more than capable of coming and of staying sober.

Feyre hadn’t really expected her to come – she had already justified the lack of a painting and her own reluctance to start one with many half hearted rants about Nesta. She’d even turned to Mor and Elain when Rhys’ agreement had started to lack conviction.

She needed Nesta to be what she’d told everyone else she was.

Rhys didn’t know whether it made him a better or worse man that he’d once wanted the same... Or that he no longer did.

Now, he found himself wanting to know Nesta. Running through their few interactions again and again, having Azriel report her weekly movement as if some small part of him didn't just know.

He watched as Nesta undid the braid of her hair and ran a hand through the spill of golden brown locks. She’d already kicked off her shoes and tossed her coat over the back of the only decent chair in her apartment.

She pulled a book from the stack on her table and began to read, pulling her legs under the blanket on the couch.

He pooled his power into the wards he’d placed and allowed it to heat the apartment slightly, knowing she would forgo a fire.

He’d once considered having her live with Lucien, if only to learn to get used to fire, but the idea of it now unsettled him. Nesta, given the chance, would like Lucien. And...He didn’t want to admit it, but he was fine with Nesta caging herself away if it meant she existed in some place only he could reach.

After a while , she stopped reading and he felt that now familiar pull.

Absently, Nesta closed her eyes and lifted her fingers to her lips. He let his own close too, knowing they were remembering the same thing. That day in the library, only weeks after the War...

Rhys remembered the uncertainty of that moment. The hammering of his heart as he barely brushed his lips over hers, once and then again because it felt like a dream. He remembered her breath against his mouth a second before she kissed him back. He remembered the feel of her mouth, her tongue against his, the rush of something impossible.

He’d felt like a child, a boy doing something brave and stupid.

He’d felt like a monster, tainted and ruined.

It was humbling being brought to his knees by the experience of something beyond the world he’d thought he’d known. Something sacred and holy.

It had burned away whatever anger and disgust he’d thought he’d had and revealed it for the shame and fear it was.

He did not deserve this. He was filthy, unclean. A monster and a whore - it was a part of him he could never escape.

It that had rooted him there, not pulling away even when he knew Mor had seen them.

It was that part of him that felt ruinous, poisonous relief when Nesta pulled away, face twisting in shame - the voice in his head that said good, she knows what you are, let her see you and hate you...

The coward in him knew Mor wouldn’t tell Feyre but had hoped she might tell Cassian – had hoped that by now his brother might have heard and raged and ripped away the curtain that hid the monster.

He couldn't escape it.

And yet with each day since she emerged from the Cauldron, Rhys felt that part slipping away; felt the fear and shame fading, the anger and disgust growing smaller.

All giving way to the pain and longing.

He bit down on his lips as familiar grief clawed at him.

He thought it might become more bearable when Nesta packed her bags and left to live across the city.

But the thrum of her magic was inescapable - in the House, in the wind, in the depths of the Hewn City and in his own bones, he could feel it - she was waking the Court itself.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could shame himself into denying what the Gods themselves had given.

#rhysta #my writing #yeah idk

[panzerkatzee]

NaNoWriMo Journal V

Soooo…. uhm… remember how I was like: "Oh nooooo… I don't know if I will make it much farther than the daily minimum… weeeep…"

I uhm… kinda overshot it.. a bit.

Wrote ~5200 in total yesterday, finishing two chapters, still working on Chapter VI, which will be done soon aswell.. sooo yeah..

Daily Task - Action scene inspired by the fourth image of my pinterest start page. 200-300 Words max. (Story below)

Today's song: Extra Terra - Neural Link

Why is it on my playlist? Well… I suppose the title already makes it kinda obvious… buuut as I like to profusely explain things… let me tell you. ITS A) AMAZING.. B) BADASS C) exaCtly what I imagine playing in Clubs all over the fantasy world I created. I am a huuuge fan of the Cyberpunk Genre… something I never quite realised until listening to Extra Terra's music. Normally I am not huge on the umbrella term of EDM… sure I dance to it sometime and my favourite cheer-up music is absolutely (Russian) Hard Bass, thanks to my lil' brother, who showed me DJ Blyatman. Buuut.. most of the rest isn't my kind of tea.. except for this dark, rhythmic Cyperpunky music.. it's like Luminary, which blows up on Bookstagram at the moment.. it gets me to dream about a futuristic world, with huge sky scrapers, neon lights and crushing hypercapitalism.. Soo… I would give Extra Terra a lot of credit, when it comes to inspiring me~

Buuut enough of the chit chat… let's get to writing. I actually already did write half a paragraph before remembering, I hadn't faced my daily challenge.. but that's a good thing.. means the hyperfocus has finally come and the book is going to get finish…

Although… I will have to do some cleaning up and editing the stuff my alphareaders flagged, which should come first…. eat the frog and all..

Sooooo its 17:01, first real break for the day after starting this morning. Another chapter done, second one is at the halfway point. I introduced a new character and had her have quite the dialogue with my protagonist… Writing is sooo fun right now… Buuut… I will treat myself, with a hot bath… bc I earned it and need it.. tbh.

Smell ya later, suckers <3

Daily Challenge

By AeLi Kim

The bodyguard hefted her lance, while the two attendants made a valiant attempt to user the lady away from the party that had waylaid them in the alley. Too late… the two bouncers from Ashin's, Fjinna had hired only yesterday, upon realising three people might not be enough, had closed in from behind, and now blocked the way, shiteating grins on both faces. Brutes…, the mage thought with an exasperated huf, before reaching for the veins of golden energy, thrumming just at the tips of her fingers. Air and water, best for controlling a fight. In the end she didn't want to kill a guard just doing her job. Nodding to Barn, he tightened his enormous fists on the club and barraged forward, embodying the inevitability and majesty of an Isenbergen landslide. The sharpened lance, adorned with the House Song dragon, its maw opened around the sharp blade, snapped foreward so fast, only Fjinnas affinity for messing with time, made her even realise what was going to happen. Not wanting to see her friend gutted in the high street, having to deal with some very prickly questions and Legion pursuit, the aspiring career criminal, made a snap decision to completely and utterly change the plan. Her fingers moved forward just as fast and a wall of ice rose in front of the lancers charge. By no means strong enough to stop, but sufficient to slow. Ice burst with it glacial ringing, as the guard battered through it, giving Barn the time he needed to adjust his stance from offense to defence. Still sparks flew as lance met the iron studs of his club and Fjinna surged forward. The gust, rustled through her robes as it carried her over the guard and hurled down a trio of ice spikes, hoping to sow some confusion and create more obstacles for the soldier to maneuver around. A miscalculation, she sensed, before feet touched the ground. Of her opponent mostly. That bitch fought mages before. A realization scraped along the edges of her mind as she drew the rapier from the cross belt, tyring to get in close from behind. But it was as if the wind, usually a kind and loving friend, had found someone better. At a rapid pace, the woman swirled and twirled, almost causally warding of the smaller attackers fast stabs and the giants laboured swings.

#Youtube

[valkyrie-of-the-rising-sun]

2. and 16. for Hauyne

I hope you like stories and exposition dumps, 'cause this is gonna be a long one :)

2. Is there a meaning behind their name, or a particular reason why they have it? (either in the story, or why you as the author decided to give them their name) I'll start with the out-of-universe origins of her name. Hauyne was the name I used for nearly every single fangame I played that isn't an OC roleplay. The name, in turn, comes from a character from the game "World of Final Fantasy". I loved how easily the name rolls off the tongue, so I kept on using it.

Rejuvenation was no exception to this rule, so the MC was also named Hauyne. Then, during my first playthrough of chapter 8, I came up with a weird idea of creating a self-insert fic based on my first playthrough, so I created a SI-avatar using Alain's design as a basis and named it after the one I went by in that save file. Hence, the character Hauyne was born.

(I didn't realise that I made a typo until I finished the game... the name was actually spelt as "Hauyn". By then it was too late to change anything; I still kept the mispelt name for the OC out of emotional attachment.)

Another reason I kept the name "Hauyne" was because of its meaning. She's named after a type of rare gemstone, also known as hauynite, that can be found as small quantities in lapis lazuli. Hauyne gems are said to represent joy and resurrection, which I find it fitting for the character's abilities as well as her nature.

Hauyne's birth name, Artemis, is named after the Greek goddess of the moon, wilderness and the hunt. It's just an offhand reference to her talent in handling Pokemon, since Artemis the goddess is often depicted alongside wolves and deer. That, and because it was a play of the "dark side of the moon"; much like the moon, Hauyne has a lot of hidden depths that no one - not even herself - is aware of. It's very rare that someone can see her for who she truly is rather than the persona she chooses to show them.

To be honest, I didn't plan for Hauyne to have a birth name since in the original iteration for the fic she never reveals her past identity; when I did give her one, it was a name that was fairly common and vaguely references the "light" she carries within.

(Fun fact: Hauyne's beta names were "Chiara" and "Claire")

It isn't until after I created Orion and drafted out their backstory that I decided to give Artemis her name, mostly as a parallel to the tragedy of their namesakes in the Greek myths. Regardless of which version you are familiar with, Orion and Artemis always end up tragically separated through death, with the heartbroken goddess creating a constellation in remembrance of her fallen companion.

And much like their namesakes, Orion and Artemis were separated by a tragic incident when she was a young girl. The latter had believed them to be dead for years; it isn't until she was halfway through her journey across Aevium that she discovered not only is Orion still alive and kicking, they're also the Champion of Reborn.

For her surname, “Viator”, to fully understand its meaning within the in-world context you kinda have to delve into the lore of a MMORPG called FFXIV. In the world of FFXIV, there’s this place called Garlean Empire where its citizens abide by a hierarchy denoted by a title. “Viator” - Latin and the empire’s in-universe language for “traveller” - is one such title, but it is reserved for outcasts/fugitives of the empire. 

However, the title itself is derived from a high-ranking position of an ancient civilisation preceding the ones seen in the MMO overworld. In that civilisation, “the Traveller” is an epithet given to anyone holding that esteemed position, because as part of their duties they were to wander the land, listen to the woes of the common people and help them resolve their problems to the best of their abilities. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? 

Admittedly, the surname’s connotations wouldn’t make much sense now. It will though, in time. 

In-universe, Artemis is named that way because her birth mother is really passionate about myths and legends. Her pseudonym, “Hauyne”, was an attempt to connect with her late mother by naming herself after her favourite gemstone. 

16.  How do other characters in the story view them? Back in the real world, to say Artemis is not very well-received amongst her fellow villagers is a gross understatement. For reasons they couldn’t understand, something about Artemis just felt... off. Like uncanny valley brand of off. As if she wasn’t meant to exist, much less walk on this world. And trusting this gut feeling, they did everything they could to drive her away; anything to ensure that she stays far, far away from them. This meant plenty of village-style mobbings, hecklings, ostracising and discriminatory behaviour. 

(It wasn’t her fault she was born the way she did.)

In Aevium, however... that was a completely different story. There, people generally found her intriguing and captivating because of how mysterious she is. She just... seemed too good to be true. A frighteningly powerful and skilled trainer, a kind soul who helps others without asking anything in return, a loyal and devoted ally/friend... yet no one knows anything about her. It was like she just appeared out of thin air one day much like a mirage in the desert, at the whims of some fickle deity.  

To her friends, she’s their rock amidst the chaos; a pillar of strength, their beacon of hope and inspiration. She was a cherished friend who had stood by them through every step of the way since the very beginning, and in turn they placed their faith/trust in her. No matter how daunting things had gotten, as long as they had Hauyne by their side, it felt like they could overcome any obstacles set in their path. 

Although, they do worry for her wellbeing and maybe even a little frustrated at her. For all the times she lent them a shoulder to cry on and cheered them up, not once has she let them do the same for her. They could tell she was suffering, barely holding herself together by the seams and on the verge of being painfully crushed underneath the weight of her burdens, despite her (admittedly convincing) pretenses. And they want to help! They really did, after everything she had done for them. They just wished that Hauyne would rely on them, just as they came to lean on her. 

#ask answers #thanks for the ask! #and phew! this was a long one #i kinda went into poetic writer mode for the second question lmao #i hope you don't mind #im just super excited to talk about my OCs

[thesolferino]

True Calling

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ word count: 3.9k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream meets his favorite singer on an among us livestream.

“Dude, what could go wrong? Just do it.”

“What could go wrong?! Literally so many things, you ass.” 

Dream heard Sapnap sigh through the mic right into his headphones, the dim grey of his Discord background doing barely anything to illuminate his features as he stared at his open messages blankly.

“First of all, don’t.. speak to me like that, I am doing you a favour by sitting here and listening to you panic about stupid shit. Second of all, nothing big could go wrong. What, you’re a little awkward in the beginning, maybe, and that’s it.” Dream adjusted his headphones a little bit, Sapnap’s rant flowing into his ears but dissipating somewhere halfway to his brain, because, yes, things could go wrong and he can’t be proven otherwise.

“Did you forget that I’m a public figure? And that my fans are insane? I say one wrong thing and it’ll be memed and haunt me in my dreams. Did you forget that SHE’s a public figure? And that this is live? God…” he retorts back, listening to Sapnap helplessly sigh once again in response. He anxiously switches from his Discord to Twitter, then to YouTube, to Twitch and then back to Discord, frantically clicking around. In reality, he knows Sapnap is right, and it’s anxiety whispering into his ear that he’s gonna somehow fuck up, but maybe it’s simply easier to stay and argue with him into the night instead of actually responding to that message.

The stream is still going. Quackity’s voice speaks over Sapnap’s quiet breathing. “Damn, he’s still not responding. Um, let me try Tubbo, maybe?” 

Before he knows it, the opportunity to join the stream is slipping out of his fingers, and Dream isn’t sure if he’s happy about that or not. On one hand, he gets to meet one of his favorite artists whose album he’s played way too many times to count, and on the other, the chances of him embarrassing himself in front of that same artist and a hundred thousand other people are extremely high, and he’s not sure if he likes the odds of that.

“Man, I don’t know. You won’t listen to me, anyway. Don’t join if you don’t want to.” Dream hears the annoyed tinge in Sapnap’s voice, and that’s what pours the last bit of courage into his veins because the best way to do anything in life is to follow Sapnap’s advice after you’ve already irritated him to the point of defeat, and he murmurs a quick “bye” and hangs up before the other can even respond, typing a rapid “Sure, send me the VC link” back to Quackity. 

He hears a delighted exhale coming from his Twitch tab just as Quackity forwards him the link. “Okay, nevermind, we’ve got Dream! He’ll join in a second.” 

With that, he swiftly closes the Twitch tab and with an encouraging sip of water, he finally joins the Discord voice chat with the rest of the players. Your Discord image sticks out like a sore thumb to him despite being a super basic, Googleable picture of you that he’s probably seen a million times by now, and upon seeing it, reality slaps him right over the face and he realises that, oh shit, he actually joined.

“Hey everyone.” Dream speaks into the mic and a mix of excited voices greets him at the same time as he loads up the game. Your icon is missing the green halo. He stares at it, as if you’ll magically speak up if he stares long and hard enough. That, apparently, works.

Pokimane’s “Dream, hi!” seems to set something off in your brain, and you speak again.

“Oh, Dream?” the green halo appears, and Dream resists the urge to say something stupid or bite his hand or anything of the sort when you say his name. “Aren’t you the guy who listens to my music all the time?” you giggle.

Quackity laughs loudly in his usual fashion, and Dream feels his hands go cold as the Among Us loading page pops up. “Wh-huh?” 

“Yeah, you-you listen to my music a lot! Your fans always tag me under that… ‘Dream’s Spotify’ Twitter account, I remember you.” Dream swears his heart is about to jump out of his chest and start bouncing around on the floor because his ribs are way too restrictive for that type of movement, but he tries his best to play it cool and laughs lightheartedly.

“I do! I’m, like, your biggest fan.” he grins, as if you can see him, and you laugh in return.

“Yeah, man, you pay my rent. Thanks.” you say and a couple of people laugh while Dream inputs the code and his character finally pops up, immediately running around like the rest of the group. He runs around your purple character and hears you chuckle as you run around him too, but not for long, because the game starts and everyone mutes themselves. He audibly sighs, because he can afford to, considering he’s not streaming and nobody can hear the amount of courage this whole thing is taking him. 

A notification pops up on his screen - the Dream Team group chat seems to be talking. Must’ve already found some way to make fun of me, he thinks to himself as he huffs out a large breath and runs through cafeteria and weapons to do his tasks in navigation. Corpse is hot on his tail the whole time, and not to say he’s an untrustworthy guy, but Dream isn’t really looking forward to getting killed before even speaking to you properly, so he runs around, trying to find somebody to stick with so Corpse doesn’t shove a knife in his back while he’s doing a task. 

Thankfully, Karl emerges somewhere from the direction of storage right into communications where Dream was going, too. Just as Dream starts finishing download and Corpse and Karl line up behind him, his screen flashes bright red and white and the bold letters “Dead body reported” pop up. Everyone unmutes themselves and his eyes bore into your character, immediately.

“Alright, the body was in top left of the… uh, upper engine. I need everyone’s positions.” Rae immediately spoke.

“I was in electrical, I-I went through cafeteria to the upper engine with Poki, there was nobody there, we did our tasks, went down to lower engine, then Poki left with Toast, and I went to electrical and the body was reported.” Sykkuno said, and Pokimane confirmed with a hum of agreement.

“Dream?” Rae asked, and he spoke up.

“I never even went that way, I went through weapons to nav, and then to communications, and then the body was found. Corpse can vouch for me because he was following me the entire time and I kinda thought he was gonna kill me. And Karl saw me in communications, us three were all together when you… reported the body.” He rambled, trying to defend himself.

“Yeah, it’s true, he was with me the whole time.” Corpse supported.

“Karl, which way did you get to communications?” Toast asked.

“Uh, through storage.” Karl replied quickly.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was in security, and I could swear I saw you walk past.” Toast said, and a couple of “ooh”s echo through the call.

“That makes no sense because even if I did go that way, I wouldn’t have time to get to communications and start doing my task with Dream and Corpse if I killed Ethan! And Rae, you-you saw me do my task in storage!” Karl loudly defended himself.

“...that… that’s true, yeah.” she said.

“If you ask me, Toast, you’re being real sus for lying about that.” Karl threw it back at Toast, who protested.

“Listen, I didn’t say you killed anybody, I just said I saw someone run past!” he claimed.

“Bretman and Y/N are being real quiet, though.” Corpse points out, and the green halo around your icon lights up once again.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realise I was muted. Sorry, guys.” you laughed. “Um, I was with… Quackity, in… what’s that shit on the right called?”

“O2.” Quackity quickly jumped in.

“Right, O2. I went to… top left, first, and I did my tasks there, and then to weapons and then to O2, and then the body was reported.”

“You were in top left?” Rae repeated.

“Yeah.”

“And was there anyone with you?”

“Um… no? I was alone, and then I saw Quackity in top right, and then we went to, uh, O2 together.” you said and Corpse sighed loudly.

“That means she could’ve had the time to kill Ethan and run.” Toast points out.

“Hey! I didn’t kill anyone! I don’t even know how this game works…” you whined into the mic and Quackity laughed.

“Yeah, I dunno Y/N, you were dancing real suspiciously around me…” he said, causing you to defend yourself louder.

“Why would I kill anyone?! I don’t even know how to do that, I’m a nice person!”

“I don’t think she did it, guys.” Dream pipes up, tugging at the wire of his headphones absentmindedly.

“Shut up, you simp.” Quackity fires back instantly, making everyone in the call laugh, including Dream.

“Damn right, I’m a Y/N simp. She can do no wrong. I mean, look at that innocent face! She did nothing, I’m-I’m sure.” He argued, making you cover your mouth and giggle.

“Their face is literally the same as everyone’s! We’re all astronauts!” Rae protested, but Dream kept shaking his head.

“No, hers is more innocent.” he said. “Toast, why are you so set on accusing everyone, anyway?”

“Oh, you’re so not attacking Toast right now-”

“Guys, I think we should skip.” Sykkuno pipes up to calm the conversation, and everyone agrees, even though most of them mumble “sus” under their breath as soon as they mute their mics.

Dream’s tiny green astronaut stomps his way over to the left side immediately, changing paths this time and making his way into the Upper Engine, trying to finish his tasks in time and possibly find someone to accompany him so he at least doesn’t have to argue over his alibi. He had four tasks left, two of them in Upper Engine, so after that he was free to roam around wherever his heart desired. Just as he started doing one of them, he watched your purple character step in and run circles around him, earning you a quiet laugh that he didn’t know he uttered until he heard himself do it and silently scolded himself for getting that flustered at something so simple.

The two of you did your tasks together before going down to reactor. Just as Dream started doing one of his tasks, a dead body was reported again and he unmuted himself as Toast immediately started borderline yelling into his headphones. 

“Bretman just killed Sykkuno RIGHT in front of me. I literally watched him do it. He killed Sykkuno in COLD BLOOD.” he confidently claimed and Dream, quite uninterested, grabbed his bottle of water and lightly sipped on it, wiping beads of sweat resting right above his eyebrows with his forearm, blindly looking around the darkness, trying to get his eyes to adjust looking away from the computer screen. His eyes searched for the window - it was open, just enough to let a fresh breeze inside, but it never seemed to do that, letting humid air in with open arms like a welcome guest. Florida is fucking hell, he thinks, gulping down some more water.

“No, I didn’t! I seriously did not, he’s the one who killed him and is trying to frame me now. I swear to God, Toast…” Bretman shouted into his worn mic, trying to argue back. 

“Yeah, to be honest, Bretman, you were silent the whole time when Ethan died.” Rae reasoned, earning quite a lot of “ooh”s and causing little “voted” signs to appear next to Poki, Toast and Karl’s names as Bretman tried his best to fight back.

“I didn’t know I was muted the whole time! You know I’m bad at this! Why would I... you know what, nevermind! Vote me! Vote me! You’ll see when Toast kills you all, I don’t care anymore. I literally saw-”

Dream slumps further into his chair, sure that the foam would have a dent of his body shape imprinted even when he’s long gone from it, and unlocks his phone with a quiet sigh. He opens Discord, and wishes he hadn’t, because Sapnap and George are always on the front lines and ready to make fun of him at any chance possible. He types back a stupid joke, calling them losers, but before he can press send, a Twitter notification pops up on his phone that almost makes his painfully sweaty hands lose grip of the phone. 

“this is so boring” your message reads, from your official Twitter account. Dream blinks a few times, and looks up from his phone to observe his murky, empty room, eyes flashing from the window to the ripped chocolate bar wrapper that somehow made its way onto the floor to a cup of coffee from this afternoon. Did the humid air finally get to him? Hallucinations?

He clicks on the notification - it proves to not be a product of his imagination, after all. Three dots dance around on his screen cheerfully, but they suddenly stop. His ears tune in. Bretman is still defending his honor. Something else must’ve interrupted you. His shaky hands barely hit the right letters.

He takes a handful of screenshots amidst his euphoria, and forwards them to the group chat with no caption besides an emoji sticking its tongue out - he wants to tell them to suck his dick, or something along those lines, but your message remains a priority as he rushes back to the Twitter app to reply.

“Right” he manages to write without a typo. “They’re annoying”

Three dots immediately return to his screen like a happy memory, and he almost can’t believe you’re texting back so fast. George would probably humble him by saying it’s because you have nothing better to do, but what George doesn’t know can’t hurt him, Dream supposes, and clicks on your profile instinctively as he adjusts his headphones on one ear. By the time you finish typing your message, the group decided to vote out Bretman, who ended up not being an imposter.

The three dots disappear as quick as they came, and so does the anticipation that bubbled up in Dream’s throat as he sourly leaves to finish the rest of his tasks. The rest of the game stays as boring as it started, save for the giggles and hushed laughter that came from you at every few jokes he made - of which he made quite a lot, in a desperate attempt to make you laugh, at least a little bit. Of course, Quackity was there every step of the way to accidentally mention how Dream sounded a lot more hype and alive during this game than he does ever, but you win some, you lose some, eh?

In the next game you actually decided to set up proximity chat, so of course Dream followed you around everywhere, hot on your tail at all times - what else is he supposed to do, when the chance presented itself, really?

“Are you imposter?” His character obnoxiously ran circles around you as you did your wires task slowly and unsurely since this stream was your first time playing.

“No, but I wouldn’t tell you even if I was, dummy.” You replied, running around his own character briefly before running up to do the rest of your tasks, watching the green astronaut follow you close behind. 

“Why not?” Dream questioned, eyes following all your movements since he didn’t have anything better to do considering he finished all his tasks. 

“Do you not know how this game works?”

“Yeah, but you’d tell me, right? I wouldn’t… rat you out.” He heard a sigh coming through his headphones in response, and his grin widened just a little, watching your character walk away from him.

“I know you wouldn’t.” you replied. “I’ll tell you if I’m imposter, I guess.”

“You wouldn’t kill me, would you?” Dream spoke into his mic, reaching to fix it and realising the way his hand trembled a little, fully aware he was walking the line between flirty and obnoxious more than usual. He lowered his gaze just to see his keyboard reflect the light of the computer back to him - the sweat from his palms seemed to seep onto the keyboard. He refused to think about the mocking things his best friends would say if they found out how nervous he was just to talk to you. 

“No, of course not! I wouldn’t be able to kill you.” You chirped just as a dead body was discovered and the two of you were torn from the conversation. 

In the next one, his screen flashed an ominous black and red with the word “Impostor” and your purple character stood proudly next to his green one, and he snickered to himself, adjusting his headphones one more time (the more he did it, the more he was convinced it was one of those anxious habits of his).

Shifting in his chair, he started moving and couldn’t believe his eyes when he realised the two of you managed to lock yourselves in a room with Corpse and Sykkuno, accomplishing a double kill in barely the first two minutes of the game. The two of you vented while Dream muttered curses under his breath, breaking out in a sweat wondering if you’re going to get caught or not as you casually hummed to a random tune while faking tasks, hitting the notes in such an effortless way that it made Dream relax and get even more nervous at the same time. It didn’t take too long before the body was found, and you seemed to adapt to the game very quickly, as Dream just sat back most of the time and watched you stretch out a whole essay on why you and Dream could NOT have been imposters. 

“Why would they stick together the whole time? Couldn’t they get at least someone else to vouch for them?” Toast complained. 

“Girl, Dream wants some… alone time with Y/N, obviously.” Bretman said, despite being the one most sus of you in the first place, forcing laughter out of the whole lobby, Dream’s sticking out the most as his mood constantly swayed from finding the whole thing funny to being worried sick if you actually find him weird.

“Exactly! And we’re gonna have our alone time if we want to, thank you very much.” 

Well, Dream thinks, taking a stressed gulp of water from his bottle, at least we cleared that one up.

“I don’t think that sounded the way you wanted it to, Y/N.” Karl pipes up, making Quackity burst into another fit of loud laughter, and you immediately protested.

“It sounded exactly the way I wanted it to! Now, vote Rae or else.” 

When the meeting was over, he ran after you through cafeteria, grin splitting out on his face before he even spoke.

“You’re pretty…” his silence extended as he watched your character stare at his. “...pretty smart.”

You snorted. “Right. You’re pretty…” you extended your silence in return, mocking him. “...too.”

His heart jumps. “You forgot a word there.” he says as you stomp out to storage.

“I said what I said, Dreamy.” 

He swears this can’t be healthy for his blood pressure. In the corner of his eye, Discord notifications pop up like crazy. The boys must be watching your stream. His heart swells with both pride and dread, knowing he’s about to be called something along the lines of pretty Dreamy for the next two months.

“How do you know I’m pretty? You’ve never even seen my face.” Dream replies as heat creeps up like a spirit rising from soil, from the back of his neck, seeping into his ears and cheeks somewhat equally. His eyes dart to the window again. Of course it’s the stupid Florida weather that has him burning up, flustered. Maybe he should open another window.

“Is this an invitation to see it?” you say, a teasing tone clinging off your voice and he can practically hear you smiling. 

“No, I’m just saying! If you want to see it, though, that… that can be arranged.” he bites his lip as a physical attempt of holding back the smile that breaks out as he waits for your response, chest puffing in both nervousness and odd confidence.

“Can it? I mean, I don’t need to see it, I just know already, you have those… pretty boy vibes. But I wouldn’t…” you chuckle. “...be opposed to seeing it, for sure. Don’t count on me not to leak the pictures, though. I want the clout.”

“What do you MEAN you want the clout, you’re Y/N! You don’t need clout from a Minecraft YouTuber!” He argues back, a small wheeze escaping him mid sentence as you giggle and run around, with him following your every move.

“You keep my fucking lights on, man! Whenever your Spotify Twitter account thingy tweets that you’re listening to my stuff, the streams go up! I need your clout.” you say as you run into admin and snap Toast’s neck and run back out casually, as if nothing happened. 

“Yeah, that’s how me listening to your songs on repeat works.” he says and you let out some sort of irritated groan.

“Shut up, smartass.” Just as you say that, somebody seems to find the body and you’re pulled into a meeting, where Rae susses both of you immediately.

“No, because both of you are always together! And someone always spots you walking by the place where the bodies are found! At some point that can’t be a coincidence, right?” she accuses, practically yelling into the mic.

“Of course they’re always together, check- check fuckin’ Twitter! They’re trending on like three different spots already!” Quackity jumps in, loud as always, and the lobby gives off mixed reactions.

“What? We are?” Dream asks, and Quackity confirms with a “yeah, man! Check!” and so he complies, quickly pulling out his phone to check the trending tabs. Sure enough, among the politics and sports, “DREAM Y/N”, “PRETTY BOY” and “DREAM FACE” are crammed, sat at 7th, 14th and 18th place, respectfully. A satisfied grin breaks out on his face. At least they see it, too.

“This has to be the first time Dream has trended for something heterosexual.” Karl points out, earning loud laughter from Quackity and Bretman, less loud on your part.

“Exactly! We’re a power couple! Stay mad!” You shouted, with Dream supporting you in the background, although still shyly adjusting his headphones every few seconds, unable to comprehend that oh, this is actually happening.

Both of you get voted out during the next few minutes, but that really means nothing to Dream - they actually do him quite a favor, because the two of you get to excuse yourselves and he sees those three familiar dots dance on his screen again as he leans back into his chair with a dopey grin, playing with the strings of his sweatpants, waiting for your next and next and next message. 

He opens Discord on his computer to type one last message into the groupchat before turning it off for the night:

Dream (03:14): maybe Minecraft wasn’t my calling after all

Dream (03:14): can’t believe I just met my soulmate on Among Us

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #dream fanfic #dreamwastaken fanfic #dream fluff #dream x you #dreamwastaken x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfic #mcyt x reader

[writingsbychlo]

sun in the shadows (11)

word count; 10,191

summary; you go to dinner with stiles, and things that were once great rapidly go south.

notes; you’re gonna hate me. sorry.

warnings; reference to panic attacks, a lot of yelling, just heart pains, y’know?

There was music vibrating the flooring from the apartment next door to Stiles and Noah’s, and it had taken you a moment to distinguish between the two, considering how often it was that the noise was coming from behind this door instead. Swinging open a second later, your flannel-clad best friend stood behind it, a spark in his gaze and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes when he greeted you.

“Hey, Sti.”

“Howdy, pretty lady. Come on it.” Stepping back, he swung his arm dramatically for you, and you giggled a little as you walked in, bag swinging by your side and keys rattling in your hand as you clutched them with your phone. “I figured I’d drive, it’s easier than taking two cars.”

“That means I get to drink.” You smirked, hanging your own up on the key hooks next to the door, and slipping your bag down from your shoulder to take up a temporary residence on the coat rack. “Where’s Noah?”

“Loverboy is right there on the couch.” Stiles pointed over your shoulder, your brows furrowing a little at his lack of greeting, and when you turned, you realised why. Now that you could see the headphone sitting on his head, you knew why, and you could pick up the very faint humming that was coming from them, unintelligible with the muffled effect, but clearly loud in his ears.

Crossing the room to him, he was focused on his computer screen before him, typing rapidly up at an essay you weren’t entirely aware of, but it was presumably just a final assignment before the end of the year. Placing your hands gently on his shoulders, he jumped rather violently at the sudden touch, and your chin rested on the top of his head as your hands ran a little further down his chest. Sinking back into the couch once the stiffness from his body faded away, the reflection in the computer screen showed a smile, and one of his hands came up to rest over the top of your left. The other raised up, enough to lower the headphones from his head, and leave them hanging around his neck.

“Hey, sunshine.”

“Hey, starshine.” Sliding around onto the couch, you ignored the slight gagging sound Stiles made from the kitchen, taking a seat beside Noah, and he removed the headphones entirely, twisting to face you a little more. Leaning in, his smile shrunk, something softer but a little more serious as your nose bumped against his, before your lips weer brushing together. Once again timid at first, before he was pushing a little closer to you, confidence behind his actions as he left a sure kiss to your lips, smiling all the while.

One warm but calloused hand came up to sit on your cheek, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone each time he pulled back, only to come back in with another peck and another, until you were grinning too widely to let him press anymore. His cheeks were pink when he pulled back to look at you, something sparkling behind his darker brown eyes as he did, and you leaned a little more into his palm, just before it pulled away.

“You two sicken me, I can’t stand to be in this room right now.” You scowled, turning to look at your best friend, and the blush on Noah’s cheeks only got deeper, turning to face his computer as he’d missed the presence of his brother behind you both entirely. “I’m going to get my coat and my jacket, and we can go.”

“Go?” Noah echoed as Stiles left the room, and you shrugged, collapsing back into the cushions of the couch, even if it would only be for a little while.

“I’m going to dinner with Stiles.”

“Oh.” He hummed, and you smirked a little, head tipping to the side to look at him as he tried to hold his face steady. “Sounds fun.”

“Do you wanna’ come too?” You teased him with the tone of your voice, and his eyes narrowed on you a little as he picked it up, but his smile was breaking through the false frown he wore.

“I would, but I can’t.” Raising a brow at him, you prompted him on further, and his gaze flicked to his screen for just a moment. “I have an online lecture in an hour. Can’t miss it.”

“Shame, it’s always more fun when you’re there.”

“Always?” He grinned, leaning in closer again, until his nose was bumping yours, and he let out a breathy laugh against your lips. “We’ve only ever been out together for dinner with my brother once.”

“Yeah, well, that one time was pretty fun. You opened up a lot, I liked that.”

“I like it when you open up too.” He mused, hand landing on your thigh as he moved to place a kiss to your lips, the innuendo not going unnoticed, and you scoffed, twisting your head as not to muffle your laughter, and he grunted when his lips met your cheek instead.

“You’re awful, you know that?” You shoved at him, grinning all the while as he backed off. “So many bad jokes. And dirty jokes. And bad, dirty jokes. That’s all you are.”

“Yeah, but you like it.” He was too confident in himself, and you rolled your eyes, moving to pick up the headphones that still had noise coming from them, and he only watched as you did.

“So, what are you listening to?”

“Your playlist. Well, I mean, the one I made for you. It reminds me of you.” You placed the headphones over your head, a song you were unfamiliar with but had a catchy tune meeting your ears, and you wicked a little at the volume. Reaching a hand up, Noah adjusted the dial on the side of them, turning it down to an appropriate level, and you couldn’t help the tapping of your foot along with the rhythm. “You like this song?”

“I’ve never heard it before, but it’s pretty good.”

“A little time with me, and I’ll have your music taste expanding considerably.” He smirked a little, switching the song while it was halfway through, and beginning to skip through them, clearly in search of one as his eyes were fixed on the computer screen. Lifting the headphones down from your head, his gaze moved back to you, smile flittering for a second as contentment became questioning. “What?”

“You sure you don’t wanna’ come to dinner? I haven’t seen much of you this week.”

He snorted a little, and you rolled your eyes at him, his hand coming out across the cushions to find yours. Flipping it over, your fingers laced together lightly, and he was still smiling when your gaze dragged up from looking at your connected hands to meet his. “We went for coffee twice, and it’s only Thursday.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m clingy.” You mumbled, pouting as you shrunk back into the cushions some more, and he only chuckled at your false mood.

“I like that you’re clingy.” His hand slid further up your arm, griping lightly at your bicep to pull you to sit up again, and his lips moved close enough to your own once again that you could taste the coffee he must’ve had at some point, warm on your tongue when you inhaled. “I’m kinda’ clingy too, but I just meant that we’ve spent a normal amount of time together so far.”

“For what, normal couples?”

“Oh, shut it.” His lips brushed against your own teasingly, sweet kisses that barely touched your lips, and you smiled, pushing up further into him, only to be teased more when he pulled back, just enough to keep your kisses like featherlight dances instead of loving embraces.

“You gonna’ kiss me already? It’s rude to leave a gal waiting, you know.”

“I’m thinkin’ about it.” He whispered, puckering enough that you could finally steal a few simple kisses from his lips, between fleeting smiles and tips of his head, noses bumping each time he pulled back, only to take your chin between his fingers and kiss you again. “Why don’t you stay over tonight? I’ll kiss you plenty more then.”

“Deal.”

“Gross.” Stiles scoffed, and you groaned once again, pulling back reluctantly as you turned to face him. “Tonight is about me, thank you very much. I got problems.”

“You got no sense of timing. What problems could you possibly have?” Noah scoffed, twisted enough to lay his hand over the back of the couch and face his brother.

“That is a topic for me, her,” Stiles pointed at you, your brows raising for a second when Noah’s eyes flicked to your own, and you shrugged, “and a bottle of wine. Let’s go.” Standing from the couch to do as told, you stretched slightly, Noah following and Stiles grabbed his keys from the hook by the door, a hand settling on your lower back, guiding you. “You wanna’ come with us, Noah? I suppose I’ll let you in on all my big secrets. We did share a womb, and all.”

“I can’t, but if you brought me back some food, that would be awesome.” Stiles only nodded, turning away to undo the latch on the door. Grabbing your bag for you, Noah lifted it up and over your shoulder, a barely audible thank from you as he did, and only dipped his head in acknowledgement.

“What do you want us to bring you back?” With your jacket on and your bag retrieved, you were ready to go, Noah’s fingers smoothing the hair back out of your face when you turned to look up at him again.

“You know what I like,-”

“Yeah, you.” Stiles muttered, and you swung your hand out, smacking him roughly on the arm and leaving him to curse and rub it better, turning back to Noah instead. His twin had ignored him, despite the pink hue to his cheeks because of it.

“Just surprise me, I don’t mind.”

“‘Kay.” With eyes flicking to his brother for just a second, Stiles whistled excessively and turned away to the corridor, allowing you just a moment of quiet as he turned away. A few simple kisses, one to your forehead and then to your lips, the latter a little prolonged, before you were being pushed back away towards the door. A soft smile, warm cheeks and then you were leaving, waving goodbye to him before hooking your arm through Stiles’ and letting him guide you away.

Once the front door was closed, the whispering stopped, and a wickedly smirking Stiles turned to you. “So, things between you and my brother are getting intense, huh? When do you both change your Facebook status?”

“Who the hell changes their Facebook status, Sti? What are you, forty?”

“Hey! He flicked at your nose, punching the button for the elevator with his thumb a second later, and as the two of you waited, he turned to face you again. “Seriously, though, what’s the deal?”

“Well, I guess-”

The door pinged, a group of girls that lived down the hall from him stumbling out. They were giggly and drunk, greeting you both warmly with hugs that were weak and smiles that were a little too wide, loudly chatting as they passed you both by. The smell of floral perfume and booze was strong in the elevator, and once the doors closed, you were left in a little shock. “Oh, my God, I feel like I’m choking on perfume. I’m gay, I shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“I’ve used your bathroom after you got ready, I had to fumigate your cologne out of it.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped at your joke, the machine whirring as it began to lower towards the ground floor, and you giggled at the shocked look on his face. “I do not wear that much cologne.”

“Sure, Sti. Tell me again, how much did your industrial-sized bottle cost?”

“I despise you. That was on an offer, and it’s a refill bottle, it saved me so much money.” You only hummed as the doors opened, and you nodded disbelievingly, following him out of the elevator. Holding the door or the parking lot open for you, he scoffed, a scowl on his face but amusement in his eyes. “Fuck you, okay? You can go hungry.”

“I’ll go home if there’s no food.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” He snipped, knowing it was true, and only a second later, he was grinning again, the two of you making your way over to the powder blue jeep. He held the door open for you on the passenger side, bowing dramatically as he bent at the waist, before slamming the door shut once you were clear, a slight skip to his step as he rounded to his side of the vehicle.

Hopping inside himself, the radio sparked to life with a twist of the keys in the engine, a slight spluttering from the vehicle as it came to life, and his fingers messed with the volume dial, turning it down and strapping himself in. “You know, your brother is a mechanic.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my car.”

“Yeah, they are totally supposed to make those sounds.” You teased, and he patted the dashboard, one hand smoothing over the worn leather of the steering wheel.

“Don’t you listen to her, baby. She’s just jealous because her car isn’t as cool.”

“You’re so weird.” The words came out as a laugh, and then the music filled the silence, his attention moving to the roads before you both. It was always comfortable with Stiles, and despite his erratic tapping or the slightly grainy radio that he insisted he was fine, driving with Stiles was like taking a step away from real life. It was disconnecting, just for a moment, and oddly enough, it was one of the few times when he was quiet.

Today, though, was different. Stiles was different. He was a little twitchy, skipping between small talk topics like the weather and the latest movie trailers, like there was too much on his mind for him to contain, but he was trying to distract himself. He was so busy that you barely got a word in between here and the restaurant, just trying to process every piece of nonsense that he was saying. The man barely took a breath until he was falling out of his vehicle and into the parking lot, the evening chill striking into him for a second and forcing him to pause.

“Got a lot on your mind, Stiles?”

“Yeah. Kinda’.” He sighed, biting down on his bottom lip to quiet himself when it looked like nonsensical jumble was going to start pouring from him again, and he shrugged slightly, before choosing to offer his elbow to you for your arm to weave through his own. “I want to hear the specials before we start unpacking all of that.”

“Then we’d better get you inside. The suspense is killing me.”

With a little tug on his elbow, his clumsy footsteps fell into step beside you, lanky legs taking shorter steps as you took strides just to keep up with him, and a gush of warmer air washed over you both once you stepped inside. The smell of mixed spices and warming meals hung in the air, music made of chimes and upbeat notes playing from speakers in the ceiling and low lighting to set the tone for the evening as the sun outside was setting and leaving the city shrouded by dusk.

You were seated, a reservation under his name that was spelt incorrectly on the sheet, and a table in the back corner with plush seats was given over to you both. The table cloth was long, thick white cotton brushing the exposed skin on your thighs as you tucked yourself in. Your waitress disappeared after handing a menu over to both of you and taking a drinks order, leaving you to sit in silence, with an empty glass each, and a jug of iced lemon water, which your friend was quick to pour out.

His foot was tapping agitatedly against the ground as soon as he had sat back down, sipping continually at his water until the glass was half empty, and you took pity on him. Reaching a leg out under the table until your foot could press up to his, the bouncing of his heel stopped, his eyes raising up to meet yours, and his face crumples a little bit.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Sti.”

“I know, I just- I want to talk about it, but it’s really stressing me out. I feel like now that we’re actually here, it’s more real.” He sighed, giving in to his stress and letting his elbows rest on the table so that his chin could fall to his hands, and he was staring at you expectantly, like you had all the answers.

“I can’t help you ‘til you tell me what’s up.”

“You mean to tell me you’re not a psychic?” He smiled, sitting up straighter again when the waitress returned, and he took his pop immediately, lips sealing around the straw as he took a long gulp of it, and she produced her notepad.

You’d barely had a chance to look at the menu, opening it up and flicking your eyes over it, you looked for the safest option, something you already knew, letting Stiles fill the time with chatter to the waitress as he ordered his own meal. Placing your orders and letting her disappear, Stiles watched her walk away, and then glanced around the restaurant for a while, before his gaze finally came back to you.

“Okay, fine. Stop staring into my soul.” The edges of your lips flicked up at the sides, but your amusement didn’t last long, because he barely even reacted to his joke, the frown on his face becoming permanent. “I feel like I’m losing everyone in my life.”

“That’s heavy.” Your breath left you very suddenly, like a punch to the gut as he spoke, and he shrugged, looking vulnerable as he stared at you. “Shit, that’s not what I was expecting.”

“Yeah, well, I need advice, and I figured, that’s what best friends are for, right?”

“I suppose so.” You sighed over-dramatically, a smile forming on your best friend's face as you did. His hand was resting atop the table, scratching lightly at the table cloth. You weren’t even sure he knew he was doing it, fidgeting was just a by-product of his anxiety, and your hand settled over Stiles’ across the table, calming his movements. “Why do you feel like you’re going to lose everyone?”

“Well, you know, you’re whatever it is you and Noah have going on, which is to be expected, I knew you were going to meet someone someday, but sometimes it’s hard when you come over and it’s not to see me. It feels odd.” It was a hard confession to be made right off of the bat, a slight guilt pooling in your lower abdomen, and he shrugged, but wouldn’t meet your eye.

Squeezing his hand lightly, you turned it over, holding it carefully and raising your second to be able to hold it even tighter, his hand squeezing back over yours in response, and a seeking of comfort. “You know, when you first started dating Derek, you had way less time for me, and I had to get used to that. Our Friday movie nights became your and Derek’s date nights, and that hurt at first, but I got used to it. Because it made you happy, and I wanted you to be happy.”

“I forgot about our Friday movie nights.” He gave a small smile, forcing his gaze to rise so his eyes would meet your own, and you gave one in return.

“You’re not gonna’ lose me, Stiles. Haven’t you already got plans to be my maid of honour?”

“I guess it would be a shame for you all to miss me in a fabulous dress.” He tried to seem positive, like his problems were solved, but you could still pick up the fear and hopelessness that he was trying so hard to cover.

“You’re my best friend, Stiles. I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I never want to know. Maybe after college we won’t see as much of one another, and maybe we won’t get to hang out like this as much, but I’ll always be there for you.” He heaved a heavy sigh, sinking more into his seat, but this one felt a little more relieved. “You know, your brother has these same kinds of fears. You should talk to him.”

“He does?”

“Yeah.” You lifted your drink, taking a sip, and he groaned disapprovingly.

“You can’t just leave it at that! I feel like Noah is slipping away too, tell me about him, so I know how he feels.” His tone was begging, and you once again felt that pang of guilt, shaking your head as your glass was lowered back to the table. Despite taking a drink, your throat was dry once again, and you cleared it lightly before speaking.

“I can’t, Stiles.” His face crumpled, a pout forming on his lips, and you mirrored him. “It’s private stuff, things between me, him, and my files. I can’t say anything.”

“You can’t say anything?” He echoed you, eyes narrowing on you slightly, like he was analysing you, and you couldn’t figure out why.

“You should talk to him.” You pushed, ready to question the looks you were receiving, before a plate was landing in front of you. The shock made you jump a little, a plate landing before Stiles too, and you had never even heard the waitress approach with your meals. She was smiling brightly, clearly unaware of the tension between you both and the weight of the conversation looming overhead. She offered you drink refills and sauces, and everything you could possibly need, before she was leaving once again. “Your brother loves you, Stiles, and I know you love him. If you just talk about this, you’ll work it out.”

“Despite the weirdness of you dating my brother, it’s kinda’ comforting. You know us both so well, your advice is specialised.” His brows wiggled, and you rolled your eyes lightly at him. As you picked up your knife and fork, beginning to poke through your food, his own scraped slightly against the plate, a mumbled apology for the wince it caused. Before he was tucking into his food.

“So, do you want to tell me about your problems with Derek?”

His gaze snapped up to yours, shocked and astounded, his vigorous chewing paused as his full cheeks went still, and you pushed a polite forkful of food into your mouth as your gaze stayed locked with his. His chews were slower, and he choked down the large mouthful all in one creating a loud gulping as he did, following it with a large gulp of water. “How the hell did you know that?”

You smiled despite your mouthful, chewing again and swallowing your first bite as he continued to stare. “Well, you know, for starters, if your problems were solely about myself and Noah, you’d have turned to Derek for advice, plus, Derek was not invited to this dinner. You’ve also been having a lot more little disagreements with Derek than usual lately, and lastly, you haven’t spoken about him once yet today. You normally always want to brag about your big beefcake boyfriend.”

“I thought I was the one who wanted to become a criminal profiler.” He teased, cutting up more food on his plate as he took a break from your lingering gaze to stare down it, and thinking about his next words.

“Spill.”

“Pushy.” He teased, taking another bite, and the silence only lasted for a few seconds longer, before taking another mouthful, chewing on one side of his mouth to be able to talk. “It’s not really an issue, it’s more of a disagreement. He wants to jump right into life, right?”

“I’m not seeing an issue.”

“Because there isn’t an issue. Just a difference on when.” Your brows furrowed a little, waiting for him to explain, and he was pushing food around his plate with his fork. “I want to jump into life and all, I do, but I want to take a break. A gap year, or whatever. Maybe travel, maybe stay put, but just take a little break.”

“And Derek doesn’t?”

“No.” Stiles huffed, stabbing slightly too aggressively at the piece of steak on his plate. “He wants us to move in together, he wants to get an apartment on the other side of the country where his family’s law firm works. He doesn’t think we need a gap year, he just wants to go straight into life.”

“What I’m hearing is that you have a loving and devoted boyfriend who misses his family and wants to live with you.”

Stiles stared at you, appalled for a second, before picking up a fry with his fingers and pointing it at you. “Don’t simply my problems when I’ve overthought them all in my head.” He bit the end of the fry aggressively, and you crossed your knife and fork on your plate, the meal half-eaten as your hands came to join in front of you.

“Just because Derek wants to move across the country and start working doesn’t mean you can’t still take a gap year, Stiles.”

“What do you mean?” He was puzzled now, his brows rising and that sweet look of confusion on his features that made him look so young, and he continued to munch through his fries at an almost alarming rate.

“I just mean that it sounds like Derek is trying to build a reliable and secure future for the two of you.” His face softened as he thought about it, before a little guilt was coming in. “You could move in with him, and while he starts working, you could take a gap year. He can take days off, and you can go out and do things together, and you can have your gap year full of wild experiences just like you want. Then, when it’s over, you already have a plan in place.”

“Huh.” He sat back, staring a little beyond you as he spaced out for a second, and you filled the time with your own food, trying not to take too much amusement in the way his face visible flickered with various emotions as he thought about your words. “You know, I may have slightly over-reacted in my last conversation with Derek, then.”

“Well, you’ve never been known to be dramatic before.”

“I will stab you with a fork.” He mumbled, sticking his tongue out at you, and you couldn't stop the burst of laughter that escaped you because of it.

“Thanks for proving my point.” You mocked, and his eyes rolled.

“You suck. Shut up and eat your pasta.” Using his own fork, he reached across, ignoring your protests and making mocking and false threats to stab you with the instrument, before taking several chunks onto his fork, and forcing it into his mouth unattractively. “That's good pasta.”

You cringed as he spoke through his food, watching up swallow it once again, before moving back to his meal.

“That’s what you should get Noah.”

“You think?” Your body buzzed with a subtle spark of excitement just at the mention of the man’s name, and Stiles seemed to pick up on it, smirking as he stared at his plate, picking up more food with his cutlery.

“You guys are, like, really into each other, huh?”

You could only shrug, poking at the remnants of your food, the nerves of a talk you knew was coming but finally being here making your appetite shrink. That didn’t seem to matter though, because the second that you placed down your cutlery to indicate that you were finished, Stiles was reaching across, beginning to pick at your food as he’d finished his own.

“It’s okay. I mean, I know I make a lot of jokes, but you’re good for him.” His words made a smile rise, it was beyond your control, and your hand came up to rest on your cheek, leaning it against the table. “I think he’s pretty good for you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Stiles smiled, taking all of the dishes and stacking them, moving them away from yourselves to the edge of the table. “He was talking to my dad the other day. I know my dad knows of you, and I mean, I’ve definitely told my dad some stuff about the study and you guys hanging out, but I heard Noah talking to our dad about you yesterday. Pretty sure it’s the first time, he seemed kinda’ flustered.”

“That’s so cute.” You hated how much it made your heart flutter, and a burning wave of heat rush through your body, ducking your head down to hide from Stiles how wide your grin had gotten. “I mean, we haven’t put a label on things, but, that makes me feel secure.”

“I think you bring out the best in each other. It’s nice. You’re brighter with him, and he’s bolder with you.”

“Thanks, Sti. That means a lot.” He grinned, his hand reaching out across the table again, squeezing yours when your palm was pressed to his, and silence fell between you both once again. The restaurant itself was loud, it was busy with the evening rush and the windows to the outside were now black as the night shrouded you in, but there was a bubble formed around the pair of you at this moment.

“So, are we wanting to take a look at dessert menus?”

You jumped, once again caught off-guard by your waitresses silent approach, and you swore she would make an excellent assassin. Or maybe you were just very distracted, but that didn’t matter.

“Uh, absolutely we are. I fuckin’ love the chocolate cake here.”

“Good choice.” She grinned, swiping up the plates and moving away, you were only left alone very briefly, before she was bringing back the one menu for you to look over.

With some persuasion from Stiles about sharing desserts, a request for two spare plates and a fresh set of pasta and some sides to be boxed up for Noah, your waitress was leaving, probably quite happy in the knowledge she’d be getting a very decent tip. Which she did, of course, because she was lovely, she wrapped up your spare food herself and always had a smile, offering refills but never invading your space.

By the time Stiles was paying the check and marking up a tip, you knew it was over 20%, but she’d earned it, and the two of you had become high on laughter and the simplicity of putting everything behind for just a few moments, as you’d giggled and joked like gossiping housewives over dessert.

Your sides were sore from laughter and your cheeks were aching from your smile, and for a while, there wasn’t a single thing in the world to worry about, it was simply you, and your best friend, spending quality time together that lately had been missed, as life had come crashing down.

Stiles was much more cheery as the two of you drove home. He sang to songs on the radio, and he stared out of the window each time you pulled up to a stoplight, and the tension between you both was much lighter. As the two of you got back, there was much more of a pep in his step as you walked back into the building than there had been when you’d left, and you suspected it was due to the weight that had been lifted from his shoulders.

Even if the issues were not entirely solved, Stiles had once been trapped in a maze that seemed like it had no way out, but he had now garnered a clarity, like a light leading the way, a key to the door that trapped him. He just had to build up the bravery to use it. His keys jingled in his hands as he fished them from his pocket once you had stepped from the elevator, along with the rustle of the bag of food swinging by your side each time your leg bumped it gently as you walked.

“We’re back!” You yelled, the door slamming behind you as Stiles closed it, and you jumped a little, sliding your bag down your arm and hanging it up, the paper bag with spare food stored inside rustling in your other hand.

“That was the worst ‘honey, I’m home’ I have ever heard.” Stiles teased, hanging his keys back up on the key rack.

“I don’t know, I thought it was pretty good.” Noah’s slightly deeper, slightly raspier voice appeared around the edge of the doorway, and your attention moved to him. He’d changed, swapped out from his day clothes into his pyjamas. Skinny jeans had become baggy pyjama pants and his jumper had become an old baggy t-shirt, hair a mixture between messy and flattened by the band of his headphones, with a sweet smile on his face as he reached out.

Holding the bag of food out to him, his grin stretched wider, and he stepped forwards, both hands landing on your hips instead, and you couldn't help the growth of your own beam, even as Stiles scoffed beside you. “I literally hate the pair of you, it’s disgusting.”

“Go be bitter somewhere else.” Noah mumbled, stepping a little closer, and Stiles’ shoes squeaked against the floor as he wandered away. Soft and delicate kisses were pressed to your lips, a few sweet pecks. His fingers pressed into your skin more as he held you a little tighter, pulling you a little closer by the grip on your waist, and you hummed against his lips when his head tipped to the side. His tongue dared to poke out, tracing along your lower lip slowly, and you chuckled, pulling back to look at him, your nose bumping his own when he whined a little.

“Easy, tiger. Plenty of time for that.”

“Weren’t you the one who was begging me for kisses before? I’m just holding up my end of a deal.” He teased, your cheeks heating, but he didn’t get a chance to notice before his lips were already moving back in to capture your own in a loving and heated kiss, and you couldn't help but return it. Despite the smile on his face and the matching one on your own, slow kisses were shared between you both, your free hand coming up to tangle in the hairs at the base of his neck. “I laid out some clothes you can wear to sleep in.”

“The comfy green sweatpants?”

“Well, you were so fond of them last time.” His smile became a smirk, the images associated with the night he was talking about flashing behind your eyes, ad the phantom feeling of lips tracing over your skin sent a shake along your spine, goosebumps rising on your skin. It seemed that he knew the effect he had on you, and the care he’d given you afterwards when offering you the clothes the first time. “Was thinkin’ we could watch a movie?”

“Definitely, but I have a little work to do first.”

“That sucks,” He tipped your face up, pressing a few kisses along your jaw, and your knees went a little weak as he did, your hand lightning against the handle of the bag as you gripped it. “You sure? You could leave it ‘til tomorrow.”

“You’re playing dirty.” He only hummed, teeth teasing a little over the skin of your jaw, and your breath was shaky as it came out. Finding a little strength, your hand slipped from his hair to his chest, pushing him backwards, and there was an adorable pout on his face as he looked at you. “Go listen to music, or something. I’ll work for as long as it takes you to eat your food, okay?”

“Fine, but I’m choosing the movie too, and since you’re insisting on being boring, you don’t get a say in it.” He leaned back in, stealing a final peck from your lips as you attempted to complain, noises silenced and he walked away from you with a cheeky grin, back toward the living room. Taking your folder from your bag, the pen and highlighter you’d brought still clipped to the top of it, and you left it out on the kitchen counter, the bag of food that you’d brought following it.

They both sat there, in the few minutes that it took you to slip away to Noah’s room and change, leaving your clothes folded on his desk and your shoes tucked down on the floor beside his chair. When you returned, Stiles was in his comfy clothes too, and he was picking through the bag of food you’d brought home, already unpacking it as his brother sat on the couch.

“You know, that food wasn’t intended for you.”

“Yeah, but, I’m hungry again.” He shrugged, peeling back the folded tinfoil edges and lifting the cardboard off. Swiping the carton out and away from him, you turned your back on him, taking the bag too and turning away from him to face the counters behind yourself. “Please, I’m hungry.”

“You’re greedy. You have snacks. This isn’t for you.”

“When did you become such a mom?” He grouched, reaching past your head and into the cupboards in front of you as he grinned, taking out a couple of bags of chips and a jar of dip from the fridge. When he left your peripherals, you no longer knew what he was doing, instead, focusing on sourcing a plate and beginning to serve up the meal from various cartons. Scraping out the noodles onto the plate, and arranging the dry elements around the source, you were proud of the presentation.

The noise of random reality show TV chatter was filling the background, the crunching of Stiles snacking harmonising with it. Grabbing a set of cutlery from the drawer and balancing them on the edge of the plate, you spun around. Rather than two heads at the couch, there was just one, that of Noah, and Stiles was sitting at the kitchen counter.

Your file was open in front of him, the warm joy filling you changing to cold fear so quickly that a wave of weakening nausea washed over you, and the plate in your hand wobbled, the cutlery dropping away to the floor and clanging loudly against the wooden slats. “Stiles, no!”

“What?”

He jumped, just as much as Noah did as he flinched at the shout and the sharp sound, and you reached out to put the plate down before your grip went so weak that you actually dropped it. “What the hell are you doing?”

Noah was on his feet, and Stiles looked like a deer caught in the headlights, his hunched form straightening out as he went stuff, and his eyes were wide, vulnerable shock on his face as he stared at you. “Well, I mean-” His eyes flicked down to the file, and he gulped as he swallowed. “We talked, about stuff, and you said there were notes in your file but you couldn't tell me, I thought you meant that in an ‘I won’t say it out loud but if you happened to read it then that’s okay, ha ha ha’ sort of thing!”

“What?” You all but hissed the word incredulously, and he shrunk under your stare.

“You didn’t mean that?” Stiles’ voice was a little squeaky now, and as he approached, Noah seemed to realise what he was reading, his own eyes going wider as he snatched the file away from his twin. Silence fell across the room, a pit forming in your stomach as your hands trembled a little, and you wondered just what pages Stiles had read before you’d stopped him, and he twisted in his seat to face Noah. “You have secret anger pent up against me?”

“What?” Noah had a shocked look on his face, one that morphed between fear, to humiliation, to anger, before a fiery gaze was turning to you. “You wrote that?”

“No!” Your heartbeat hard, thudding against the inside of your chest with a force that almost hurt, and you wrung your hands together. “I mean, not in those exact words?”

“Well, then what the fuck did you write?”

“Uh, just that you basically fucking hate your own brother!” Stiles interjected, a hurt look on the younger twins face, and you knew he was doing it on purpose but he was making everything that much worse. “You hate me, you feel like I abandoned you, you feel like I don’t care!”

“That’s not true-”

“It's not? Then why does it feel like everything makes more sense now that it’s out there, huh?” It was Stiles’ turn to yell, your ears ringing from the volume and you were scared by the stare they were both fixing one another with, pure fire burning in both of their eyes as each refused to back down from the other. “I knew something was wrong, I fucking knew it! You never talked to me about this stuff, you never talk to me about anything anymore!”

“I’m the one that doesn’t talk to you?”

“Yeah!” Stiles stood, hands on his hips as Noah’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, both of their faces growing a little redder from the heat of anger, and you could barely breathe.

“You never talk to me! You just started your stupid fucking podcast, where you broadcast your feeling out to everyone in the world except for me, and you shut me out!” Noah burst, seemingly regretting his words, and hurt etched its way onto Stiles face for a second, his shoulders, slumping slightly, and his hands fell flat at his sides.

“That’s what you think? That I would rather talk to everyone but you?” Noah shrugged, and a flicker of pain amongst the betrayal and anger on Stiles’ face made your heart break behind your ribs, before yet another blow was delivered from your sarcastic friend. “You think that I’m the one that did this to us, like it wasn't you that created this rift? How could you not tell me about all of these problems you have with me, that I never even knew about?”

“What fucking pages did you read?” He tore open the file still clenched in his hands, sheets becoming warped and crumpled under his grip, and as he stared down at them, eyes flicking over the page, there was a range of emotions travelling so fast across his features you could barely decipher them. Silence hung heavy, and he flicked rapidly between the pages, barely taking in the information but flicking between everything you’d highlighted, everything that seemed important during a fit of rage, and you could barely think of anything but regulating your breathing and slowing your heart, never mind how to stop him.

It all became irrelevant, however, when his gaze came back to find your own.

“How could you?” The anger was turned back to you, furious eyes with a shine that only indicated tears, and you tensed up, feeling stuck in the moment, like you were choking on the breath in your throat. “How could you? You said we were just talking, you said- some of that stuff- you lied! You said it wasn’t for the study!”

“I-I didn’t mean for it to-”

“To what? To ruin everything? You’re a fucking liar, look what you’ve done!” There was venom behind his words, and you knew he was hurting, but it still stung. The look in his eyes wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen before, it wasn’t defensive or anxious, it was pure pain and anger, and you hated that you were the cause of it.

“Don’t fuckin’ yell at her, this isn’t her fault, Noah!”

Whipping back to face his brother, Noah scoffed, rolling his eyes and your arms wrapped loosely around yourself to stop the trembling you felt coming on. “It isn’t her fault? It’s all her fault! None of this would have come to light, none of this would be happening if it wasn’t for her and this stupid study!”

“You have all this rage towards me! Do you think that would have stayed a secret for our entire lives? Do you think that would have just stayed tucked away neatly in a box and wouldn’t have affected us?” Stiles’ arms fell flat to his side, the wild gestures you were so used to seeing simply going limp as his shoulders sagged. “It’s not her fault you feel this way, it was bound to come out at some point.”

The shouting fell quiet, and there was a tension in the room that made you feel like if you even so much as flinched something would shatter and splinter.

“You know, when we were growing up it was the opposite way around.” Stiles’ voice was a little hoarse from, the shouting, and he sniffed back tears, avoiding everybody’s gaze as he stared at the floor. “You were that guy when we were in high school. You were the one everybody thought was cool, do you know that? So many girls asked me about you, nobody ever asked about me. You were that mysterious guy that didn’t talk constantly like his annoying brother, with the fixer-upper bike that made everyone think you were so fucking cool, and the attitude and the tattoos and everything else! You were that guy, and I was the dorky brother.”

“You never told me that, Stiles.”

“Oh, rich of you to talk about honesty now.” You’d rarely ever heard such malice coming from Stiles, he was like a ray of sunshine that was currently encased entirely by shadows, and you could barely breathe for the way it felt to be trapped here right now. “The difference, Noah, is that I never held that against you. I always loved you, and supported you, and I never let the way I felt about myself become anger towards you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Noah was tense again, your fingernails were digging into your palms so hard you swore they might cut right through, and everything was silent.

The first bullet had been fired, the first real shot of the argument had been thrown, and while you could see regret playing on Stiles’ face, there was no way that he could take back what he’d said now. It was out there, for everyone to hear and know, and the way Noah’s face was twisting from guilt to anger again was enough to suggest that he knew exactly what it meant.

“What is that supposed to mean, Stiles?” It was more of a growl now, tension rising once again like a hand around your throat and a stone in your gut that was just getting heavier.

“Shit, Noah! It means that you do this to your damn self, are you happy now?” Noah’s nostrils flared a little, and Stiles ran a hand through his hair, the gelled style he’d done for the evening falling out into an unruly mess. “You have anxiety, I get it, but I wanted to be my own person in college. You were fine in high school, you had your own little group of friends, and you had your bike, and your ego, and you were fine. Then when the loving adorations of stoners and cheerleaders fell away, you caved in, like their validation was all that mattered!”

“That’s not true!”

“That is true!” Stiles fought back, Noah’s jaw hanging like he’d had more to say, but had been cut off. “It is true, and you know it. Why can’t you see what everyone else can? That you’re a fucking great person, Noah, with so much to offer. You’re funny and you’re smart and you’re a great brother, normally, but you can’t see it for yourself. You rely on everyone else to validate you and make you feel special, when you’re special all on your own. You hate me for making you feel less, when you just can’t see how you’re worth so much more. You isolate yourself, and you judge yourself, and you make yourself into an outcast.” You took a deep breath, the kind of revelations you’d never had the strength to even think about finally voiced into the open air, and it felt a little easier to breathe once there was nothing else to be hidden. “Stop hating me because you can’t love yourself.”

“I don’t hate you, Stiles.”

“Yeah? Because right now, it kinda’ feels like you do.”

With that, Stiles was leaving, the slamming of his bedroom door to follow felt like a crack down the middle of the frozen room, and you let out your breath slowly, trying to shake off the feeling you had. It was nauseous, sitting in your stomach and twisting everything up until you practically felt dizzy, but you knew it must be nothing on how Noah felt. Reaching a single hand out, you placed it gently onto his shoulder, his back still to you, tensed from his position, and he jerked away.

When he turned to face you, it was with a deep scowl, and red-rimmed eyes that still shone with unshed tears, and a cold feeling radiated out from the centre of your chest in bursts. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me.”

“Noah..”

“No!” He stepped back, eyes cold as they looked at you and it was enough to make you freeze where you were, once again shocked to the point of immobility. He was trembling, a hint of fear, presumably about losing his brother after the argument they’d just had, but that too was rapidly washed away when he wiped at his face, tears finally shed barely getting a chance before they were gone. “You did this.”

“I didn’t mean to, Noah.”

“You fucking lied to me. None of this is real.” He muttered, letting out a ragged and humourless laugh. “It’s all so fucking fake.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do!” His head was shaking, and there was a feeling you’d never felt before settling into your gut, a horrid combination of heartbreak and fear as you watched him. “You never accepted me for who I was, all you’ve done is try to change me since the day we met. You force me to socialise with people who aren’t really my friends, and to go to places that spike my anxiety and you all it pushing my comfort zones but now I get it, you’re just changing me. You fucking used me for your grade, you used me for fun, you’re so fucking fake.”

“That’s really what you think of me?” It was like stepping into a bath of iced water, a cold feeling that moved from head to toe, electricity in the worst way possible, nothing exciting or new but unsettling familiar and terrifying as it moved all the way to the tips of your fingers in sparks. “You think I’d use you, you think I’m fake?”

“Oh, c’mon,” He waved around, pointing to everything from the clothes on your body to the plate of food going cold on the counter. “This isn’t you. You aren’t warm jumpers on the couch and reheating food, staying in for the night and listening to music. You’re all popularity and prom queen and parties, you’re bullshit. You’re everything I hate.”

“I don’t think you mean that, Noah. I don’t believe it. I think you’re hurting, and-”

“You think I care what you believe? You think I care at all? Stop trying to analyse me, stop trying to manipulate me right now.” He was glaring, heat in his eyes before something like clarity passed over his vision, and you saw the shift in him as he relaxed a little. “You know what? Just stop altogether. Stop trying to change me, stop your fucking study, stop trying to be a part of my life. I don’t want any of it anymore.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” His arms crossed over his chest, and you tried to stand your ground, copying his motions, until the pair of you were simply stuck, staring one another down. “I mean it.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“I don’t care.” That stung a little, and the calmness of his voice as he spoke made your faith shake, the anger that had been replaced by clarity was wearing you down. “Get the fuck out of my apartment, and get the fuck out of my life. I was doing perfectly fine before I met you.”

“You call secret anger to your brother and unresolved issues ‘perfectly fine’?”

He had a flash of anger again, that and a second of vulnerability, shock at your words as you finally threw a blow at him, but he took it strong, tongue clicking inside of his mouth with snark. “Maybe I was a loner, maybe I didn’t have many friends, but I sure as hell didn’t need you to come in here and try to fix me, because I was never broken!”

“I know that, and I never tried to fix you.”

“You tried to change me!” He yelled back, having at least the decency to look a little ashamed of himself when you flinched, but his stance didn’t change.

“I never tried to change you, I just wanted to help you.”

“Well I don’t want your help anymore, I just want you to get out of my life.” He took a deep breath to follow it, and you were left silent, unsure of what to say. “I mean it. This was fun for a while, while the illusion was still up, but now it’s just a problem, so just leave me alone.”

That struck a little deeper, and your arms feel from their locked position over your chest. You could feel the look on your face change from anger to hurt and you couldn’t help it, because you felt hollow and small as he stared at you. The confirmation came, that your relationship had never even been such a thing to him, it had simply been fun, he thought you were using him and figured he might as well gain something from it too.

The feeling you held weren’t reciprocated, the way he felt wasn’t real, and you took a shaky breath as he continued to stare without remorse to follow his words.

No regret, no back-tracking, no changes. He meant it.

And that was a whole lot worse.

“Fine.”

You moved past him, sure to swerve around his body as you ducked into the corridor, his eyes following you and Stiles’ bedroom door opening again when he peered out into the hall, but you didn’t want to see him either, and it was your turn to slam the door shut.

You felt weak, fingers grasping at the covers as you tried not to cry, because once those tears came you knew it would be a long time before they stopped, and you weren’t ready to deal with that just yet. Your clothes from the day were still neatly folded over the back of his desk chair, seconds later thrown haphazardly across his bed as you struggled to strip yourself of the clothes you’d changed into.

You were shaking, the struggle to undo the knot you’d tied at your waist only made pain turn to frustration, one of your nails tearing as you pulled at the threads, finally coming undone. Your throat was stinging raw from choking back how you felt, and with shaking hands, you folded up the jumper and sweats, leaving them out on the desk, and trying to tug on your clothes. There was shouting behind the door again, muffled voices that weren’t nearly as loud or angry as they had been but still holding rage, and everything felt like it was falling apart.

There was a pang of gnawing guilt in your gut, one you knew was illogical because this wasn’t your fault but it was present nonetheless, and it was already starting to feel like something only pints of ice cream and alcohol could fix. As soon as you’d gathered your things, the door was open again, the voices went quiet, two almost identical faces turning to stare at you.

One blank, the other filled with pity, and you didn’t want to see either right now.

“You don’t have to leave, it’s real late, you can take my bed for the night,” Stiles mumbled, taking a step closer and blocking his brother from your vision, and you were forced to look up to him. He was much a reflection of how you felt, red eyes and sore skin and a frown that felt like it would never leave.

“You know, Stiles, I love you, but with all due respect, I cannot imagine anything worse than staying here tonight.”

He shrugged, lips twitching minutely at one edge. “That seems fair. Do you want me to drive you home?”

You still wanted to cry, and your sniffle made that obvious, but you were still trying to be strong. You meant nothing to Noah, that much was clear, and you didn’t want him to know just how much he meant to you at this moment. Wiping at your eyes when it became apparent the tears weren’t going to leave, you sighed, shaking your head at how nice Stiles was still being, despite it all. “No, I don’t. I’ll drive myself, I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be reckless, just because you’re mad.”

You ignored Noah, Stiles turning to shoot him a very fast glare, and you moved beyond the pair of them. Swiping your folder from the table, a few sheets were loose, and you didn’t care for them in that time, you didn’t care for any of it, everything you held becoming creased as you grabbed at them. Your bag was still sitting neatly on the coat rack, and with a slightly harsher pull on the zipper, you yanked it open, shoving the notes inside, before swiping it from the hook and letting it fall to your shoulder.

Patting down the pocket of your bag, you couldn't stop the soft whimper that left you when you couldn't find your keys, even after rooting through the purse. You checked all of your pockets too, and as you failed to find them, you were feeling more and more like you were trapped, a caged animal, frightened and alone and the stress made you snap. “Shit! Where are my fucking keys?”

The tears were there now, your voice cracking as you spoke and you didn’t bother to wipe them away because it was obvious, but that didn’t make you feel any less judged by the two sets of eyes on you. A nimble finger and thumb reached past, plucking them from the key rack that your mind had been too foggy to remember hanging them up on, and dropping them into your palm when you held it up. You wanted to small, a silent thank you to Stiles for helping you, but it felt more like a grimace, and your sob was just as apparent when you took a breath. “You sure you don’t want me to drive, or call you a cab?”

“I’m sure, Stiles.”

“(Y/N)..”

Just the sound of your name from his lips, surrounded by so much pity, made your blood boil. “Don’t!” He jumped a little, one of your fingers pointing at him for a second as you glared, and it was your turn to finally be angry. Despite the shell he was putting on, something you knew to be fake from so long of getting to know him, he dared to look guilty, finally, some remorse showing through, and you shook your head at him. “Just don’t.”

There were tears on your face and you knew you looked a mess, the feel of the water dripping from your jaw, the stinging in your eyes and the way you could barely breathe, but you glared a second longer anyway. Your gaze softened as you moved to Stiles, a silent conversation held, before you were gone.

The hallways felt colder, the slam of the door as you’d left made you feel at least a little proud, and the chill through your veins made it easier to breathe. You were being crushed, torn apart from the inside out by how you felt, but the adrenaline of it all was just enough to keep you walking forwards for now, so you followed your feet, and let them guide you to the elevator, hoping it was enough to get you home.

#void stiles #void stiles au #void stiles x reader #void stiles/reader #SITS #sun in the shadows #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien #dylan obrien void stiles #dylan obrien teen wolf

[dragon-kazansky]

The sexy head tilt thing | Helmut Zemo

Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: Kinda smutty, but not all the way. I'm evil like that.

You hadn't left your room since Zemo'a visit. You were freaking out in your room. Why had Sam told him that? How could he do that to you?

Eventually you had to leave to get food, but Zemo would be down there waiting.

A knock sounded at your door. You halted and stared at it wide eyed. Your heart dropped.

Is he back already? What am I suppose to do?

"Y/N?"

Oh no, it's Sam. Now you would get that lecture. You took a deep breath before replying.

"Come in."

The door opened and Sam came in. You sit on your bed and stare at him. Never before you felt more scared than you were now.

"Hey Sam," you say, nervous beyond belief.

"You want to tell me what this thing with Zemo is all about?" He crosses his arms over his chest as he stares at you.

"Sam, I don't know what to say."

"The truth. Y/N, if you're in love him, tell me." He didn't sound angry, but his tone of voice was firm and slightly demanding. He very much wanted an answer from you.

"Maybe. I think so." You sigh a should block at he bed covers.

Sam unfolds his arms and sits down next to you. He puts an arm around you and pulls you into his side. You rest your head on his shoulder.

"Look, it's not my business who you have feelings for, but you do realise who he is, right? I need you to understand that this is Zemo we're talking about."

"I know... but I can't help it. I look at him and everything seems to make sense... and then he does that head tilt thing and I lose my mind!"

Sam laughs. It's heartwarming and cheerful.

"What do you want to do about it?" He asks, looking at you.

"For now I'm going to avoid him and hide out here."

"Alright. I'll bring you some food later."

"Thanks, Sam."

He smiles at you before he leaves you alone again. You stay in there for a few more hours, passing the time by actually reading this time. Sam brings up some food for you after a bit and then he leaves you again.

Zemo takes note of your lack of presence. He finds himself missing you the longer you're gone. Every so often his eyes flicker to the stairs, hoping to see you, but you don't appear.

Sam doesn't say anything to him when he returns from bringing you food, but he does look at Zemo. Bucky doesn't seem notice the silent conversation going on.

When the men finish their own dinner, Zemo excuses himself. He makes his way to your room. He stands outside for a moment, listening. There's no sound coming from within and he wonders if you're even awake.

He knocks.

For a minute there is no sound, he knocks once more. If you don't reply this time, he'll leave, but then he hears your voice and he smiles. He opens the door and slips into the room, closing the door behind him.

You stare up at him.

"Good evening," he smiles over at you.

"Hello..."

Zemo takes slow steps over to the bed. He comes to a stop on the side you're sitting on and tilts his head to the side. Now that he knows this is something you like, he's going to use it to his advantage.

You're very clearly trying not to react.

"What can I do for you, Zemo?"

"You didn't join us for dinner."

"Yeah, sorry," you mumble, but he hears you.

"Are you avoiding me?"

"No..."

He gives a little huff of a chuckle and takes a seat on the bed. He's sitting so close your leg is almost touching him.

"I don't believe you." He says it the same way he had before. A shiver runs through your spine as he gazes at you intensely.

"What happens now?" You ask, unsure if you actually wanted to hear an answer.

"What do you want to happen?"

"I don't know," you whisper.

Zemo takes one hand and caresses the side of your face with the back of his fingers. The touch is feather light, but warm. You lean into his touch.

He knows what you want.

He opens his hand and places his palm on your cheek, guiding you to him as leans in and captures your lips halfway. You melt under him as he gathers you in his arms, pulling you to him.

The touch of his lips on yours seals the deal. You're putty in his hands.

Zemo climbs onto the bed, straddling over you as he lays you back against the fluffy pillows. He keeps his hands on you, relishing in the fact he has you like this. How far would you let him go?

Your hands grip at the purple sweater he's wearing, grabbing the material and pulling at it. He chuckles against your lips and pulls back to look at you.

"You're not pushing me away."

"Should I be?"

"Probably, but I'm not complaining. You first, Liebling."

"Me first?"

His hands trail down your torso until they reach the hem of your top. His fingers slide underneath and make their way up again, this time trailing along your skin. The rise and fall of your chest increases the higher he goes. He smirks as he claims your lips again.

The cool air of the room brushes against your skin as he lifts your top over your head. You stare up into his hypnotic eyes. He tosses the clothing to the side, it's purpose no longer needed. His hands touch every single spot of exposed flesh, his lips litter kisses from your jaw, to your neck, down your chest.

Oh God, the way he makes you feel cannot be put into words.

He runs his fingers down your torso again, those digits make real fast work of undoing your trousers, they're off you so quick. He hooks a hand under your knee and brings it up to rest at his hip, his fingers applying a little pressure to the bare flesh there.

"Well this is unfair," you make him look at you.

"What's unfair?" He does the head tilt.

"Stop that! You're still dressed," you whine.

"No, and I'm aware."

"Take it off." You tug at the purple garment obscuring your view.

"You take it off, Liebling," he grins.

You lean up, he lets go of your leg and watches as you grab the hem of his sweater. His eyes don't move from your gaze as you pull the clothing from him. You toss it to the side along with yours and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You plant your lips on his again and lose yourself in the feeling of his bare arms around you.

Every kiss, every touch, every sound forces out of you, lights something within you.

You push him back so he's laying back on the bed. You straddle him, moving your hands down to his belt. The laugh that escapes him rumbles through his chest. He doesn't touch you until undress him like he did for you. Now, neither one of you had much left on.

"I want you to know I was thinking about this over dinner while speaking with Sam and James."

"Really?" You lean over him until your nose nearly touches his.

"Yes, really."

"What were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking about all the ways I could get you to scream my name. I imagined how many orgasms I could give you."

He could feel the way you clenched your muscles.

"I also thought about how risky it is that we're doing this when your friends are down the hall."

"I guess that's a risk I'm just willing to take."

Zemo claims your lips again.

Sam and Bucky were sitting in the living room in awkward silence. From the moment Zemo left, Sam knew exactly where he was heading. Bucky was looking at him dangerously.

"He's with Y/N, isn't he?"

"He might be."

Sam looked at Bucky stoically.

"Is he going to be there in the morning?" Bucky practically growls.

"Depends on what Y/N decides to do."

"You're OK with this?" Bucky glares.

"Hell no, but I'm not here to tell them what to do. I trust Y/N to be responsible, and I very much doubt Zemo is going to murder them in their sleep."

"Do you hear yourself?"

"Yeah, I do. Sit tight, pretend you don't know they're up there together, and when they get up tomorrow, be nice." Sam gives a sarcastic grin.

"I hate this."

"We have that in common, now shut up."

Neither you or Zemo were up early the next morning. It was around noon when Zemo emerged from your room to get you breakfast. He greeted Sam and Bucky like nothing had happened, then returned to you.

Bucky curled his hand into a fist.

"I'll kill him."

"No you won't."

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #zemo #marvel

[braunbakery]

meet me at our spot (2)

☞ eren jaeger x reader [fem bodied] [chapter word count: 2k]

☞ sfw, fluff, mild angst, modern au, short fic, other characters present

fic plot: before high school, you and eren were best friends. after high school, you and eren are strangers still grasping at those same past threads.

inspired by meet me at our spot by the anxiety

prev. next

2. something’s got ahold of me

a once-off conversation is just that - once-off. so you try to convince yourself there’s no point in dwelling on seeing eren yesterday, or dwelling on how he helped you sit back up, or how he smiled at you before he left. there’s no point. it was just a coincidence, a fluke.

eren has an entire group of friends. armin and mikasa, who you’ve shared a couple classes with and known since they were young. jean kirstein, who’s guts eren swore he hated back in the first couple days of freshman year. connie and sasha, who you know of course because of the commotion that always seems to follow them. he sees them everyday, and he only said he’d see you around as a courtesy.

you repeat this as a mantra over and over in your head, trying to distract yourself from looking up every few seconds the wind causes the leaves outside the treehouse to rustle and the small voice in your head that hopes it’s eren.

you sit cross-legged on the floorboards, pulling out more weird trinkets and drawings from years ago and placing them in a plastic bag to the side. now you know there’s not really any chance of being interrupted by eren again, of being rendered speechless when you’re just trying to get your shit and go (so why does your chest keep sinking whenever you swear that you can hear someone come up the ladder only to be met with an empty doorway?)

at some point you start to get sick of yourself, keeping your head focused on the box in your lap and shoving whatever even seems remotely yours into the plastic bag. so when you hear what distantly sounds like footsteps again, you don’t look up.

“hey,” a voice speaks, and your head lurches up from your hunched over position. it’s eren, hand on the frame of the doorway and peering into the wooden room.

“hi,” you practically squeak out. eren steps in.

“you back again?”

“yeah,” you say, “i still have…some stuff.”

you wonder if knows that’s as soon as he left yesterday you got out of here.

eren leans down and picks up the photo album from yesterday off of the floor, “you want this?”

“oh, you can keep it if you want.”

eren walks closer to you and sits down next to you. he doesn’t seem to notice you watching him carefully, “nah, i remember it was your idea, right?”

“yeah,” you hesitantly confirm, “but theyre our photographs.”

you notice eren freeze and you regret saying that because now he’s looking at you in a way…in a way that makes you feel like he only ever looks at you like that.

“this is one weird custody battle,” eren jokes before putting the photo album back down and grabbing the box in your lap.

“hey!” you exclaim, shoving his arm, “i was literally looking through that.”

“yeah,” eren offers you a shit-eating grin, “and now i am.”

“how are you still so annoying?”

“and how are you still so easy to annoy?” eren moves his face closer to yours.

you feel blood rush to your face and mumble sheepishly, “shut up.”

and with that, eren seems satisfied enough to let you balance the box halfway on his lap and the other half on yours, both of you rummaging through clutter silently as an excuse to sit for a little longer.

you hear an engine rev after eren does and only when you look at him do you realise hes stood up and is practically hanging out of the treehouse in an attempt to peer down at his drive way.

“oh,” he says, and you wonder if it’s more so to himself than to you, “it’s reiner.” it seems dumb, but you only realise he’s speaking to you when he turns back to you like he’s waiting for a response. you’re not really used to all this talking with him. like…talking personally to you and not the you that walks past him every once in a while.

“right.”

“him and a few of the others are coming over to hangout.”

“right,” you start anticipating him bidding you goodbye and climbing back down the ladder, but the goodbye never comes and he still stands over you like he’s deep in thought.

“do you…wanna come?” eren sounds out, like he’s testing out how the syllables feel on his lips.

“…what?” what the hell is he talking about?

“to hang out,” eren says carefully, eyes flicking back and forth between yours, “with us.” he adds.

with eren’s friends? you don’t want to be possessive or weirdly resentful but the first thought you have is that he’s inviting you to sit with the people that he prefers. you have to mentally slap yourself to remember that drifting away is normal, and they’re all probably really nice. and it was four fucking years ago. and you don’t stay friends with the people you knew when you were 8.

“oh…are you sure?” you ask. eren shifts from one foot to the other before taking another step towards you. the box in your lap feels like it’s slipping from your grasp.

“yeah, why not?” he says, and he must notice how he doesn’t sound very convinced of himself either when he watches your eyes droop because he’s quickly interjecting before you can say anything back, “it’ll be fun. come on.”

his hand extends out to you. you want to slap his hand away and tease him, say you don’t need his help, that you’re not an old lady, but your palm is already meeting his and you can already feel calloused fingers over your skin and him pulling you up to stand in front of him.

the short journey between the treehouse to eren’s kitchen is a blur, and saying hi to reiner and who he brought with him (bertolt, you think. as well as connie and jean) is even blurrier, because all of a sudden you find yourself seated on one of the stools in eren’s kitchen and absentmindedly listening to whatever the hell they’re talking about.

you appreciate how eren spares you a glance every once in a while, offering you a close mouthed smile like you haven’t not been in this house since you were 14.

“hey, eren,” reiners voice bellows from the front of the house and you hear him unlock the front door. the look you and eren are sharing is cut short by reiner, “armin, mikasa and sasha are here.”

“‘kay,” eren responds even though the three new visitors are already waltzing into the living room. you’re still frozen in place. you don’t even remember the last thing you said.

“guys, this is my - sasha get out of the fridge - my neigh–” eren tries to start, but sasha is suddenly barreling towards your seat at the kitchen island.

“hi! you’re in my bio class, right?!” sasha excitedly asks you, practically jumping on the spot.

“you mean she was, sasha. we’re not in high school anymore,” connie calls out from behind her. sasha rolls her eyes.

“it’s so nice to see you!”

“thanks…it’s nice to see you too.”

“you’re scaring the girl, sasha,” jean comments before deciding to grab something from the fridge himself. sasha immediately follows after him. you lock eyes with eren again and you realise he had already been watching you.

“hi,” a soft voice greets you, and suddenly mikasa is standing by your seat, “nice to see you again.”

“yeah, it’s been forever,” armin adds from beside her.

“you guys know each other too?” reiner asks from across the room, leaning on one of the kitchen counters next to eren.

“from when we were kids,” you say, flitting your eyes to eren only to find that he’s looking at you again. you want him to stop so you don’t have to focus so hard on speaking anymore, but you want him to keep doing it because it’s nice to know that he’s still knows you’re here. which sounds pathetic but, eren’s got such a big group of friends that sometimes you think it was kind of inevitable that he slowly drifted away from you.

“we all kinda knew each other before high school, reiner,” armin explains, sparing you another smile.

“you and bertolt literally transferred in halfway through freshman year, how do you not know this?” jean calls over to reiner.

“just slipped my mind i guess.”

“he was too busy trying not to be mistaken for a senior,” connie jokes. the room laughs. you try to.

“don’t you mean a security guard?” jean adds. everyone laughs again. you didn’t really spend that much time looking at the two boys when they had transferred, so the joke is kind of lost on you, but you smile along anyways.

“ha-ha, very funny,” reiner sarcastically retorts, “don’t know why you’re laughing, bertolt. think someone mistook you for someone’s dad once.” another eruption of laughter.

you really don’t wanna start feeling out of place (well, more out of place than you did before) but when everyone starts shooting jokes and comments across the room at each other, it gets harder and harder to stretch out a smile over your face at each one. and it gets harder and harder to look up and eren, to watch him laugh along with everyone or have him lock eyes with you again, until you’re all together just staring at your lap.

you think…you think it’s time for you to go.

eren stands at the corner of his kitchen, still leaning against his counter, so you carefully slip out of the stool and make your way towards him, wanting to try your utmost best to make this exchange as short as possible before you go back home.

“i think i’m gonna go,” you say to him quietly, awkwardly staring anywhere other than his face.

“hm?” eren is cut out of the lively conversation with his friends and is looking back at you, lips parted momentarily as his tries to figure out what you said. he takes a step closer towards you and your heart skips a beat, “wait–“

you cut him off, trying to get out of there before you’re reminded even more of how you just faded away from eren’s life, “thanks for inviting me.”

you quickly whisk yourself away to the front door before eren can say anything more, not trying to deal with any more of what always seems like general politeness to you. just as you’re about to step out of the front door, a hand wraps around your wrist when you let go of the door handle and you turn around to be met with eren behind you, looking just as shocked with himself are you are.

“uh…” eren’s gaze shifts between your eyes repeatedly, “is everything okay?”

you look down at his hand around your wrist and back up at him, “yeah. just tired.” you feel his grip loosen but he still doesn’t let go, and a part of you isn’t ready for him to.

“see you around?” he echoes what seems to be his catchphrase. you nod your head in a way that you know isn’t as enthusiastic as what he might like to see. he’s just being polite. today was another coincidence, another fluke, and he isn’t actually going to want to make any effort to see you again. even if you’re just next door. he hasn’t for the past four years.

“yeah,” you quietly respond, slipping your wrist out of his grasp. you can still faintly hear chatter from inside the house. eren watches as you trod down the front steps to his house and make your way back over to your own, the back of your head never turning even just for a second to look back at him.

eren doesn’t like regrets. he doesn’t like wasting time on them, he doesn’t like how they make him feel like he should be in a rush to do something that he’s not even sure of (that he can’t even take back). but as he watches you leave his house, he thinks that if there’s one thing he’d let himself regret, it’d be not realizing he’d fallen away from you before it was too late.

taglist;

@saramelcky @chawyn @sashabrausbrainrot @xadist @dai-tsukki-desu @papiibuprofen @chiaradhea @unicornlover25 @queen-flower

reply to this post to be added to the taglist!

#aot fic #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk fic #snk x reader #aot #aot sfw #eren fic #eren fluff #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren angst #aot modern au #eren x reader

[saphirered]

HIIII! It's me again (Eldritch knight reader) sorry I kinda dipped out but I hope you are having a great day! I was wondering if you could do one last request for that mini series of requests, where Essek finally asks reader on a real date and it's going great (Knight could notice some figures following them *cough* M9+verin *cough*??) there's some flirting/teasing but sadly the date comes to an end and reader walks essek home, they say their goodbyes for the night but not before reader finally kisses Essek and whispers a goodnight!

Hi! Welcome back. Now of course this wouldn't be me if halfway through writing I realised this was turning way too long so it'll be a two-parter again to keep it readable. Hope you don't mind. Any way, here's the first part so I hope you enjoy! 😘

-

A long day of disasters with the Nein returning just in time to be thrust into more relentless hours of study with Essek wasn’t exactly how you envisioned to spend your day and luckily for you Essek is a merciful soul, when it comes to you that is. Seeing how battered and bruised you were, and mentally exhausted he refused to let you touch his precious tomes or even scribble a single note on paper. He had even gone as far as making said smaller items disappear into the nothingness. Damn wrist pocket spell. Essek was determined. You needed rest. He’d make sure you got it.

So instead of hours upon hours spent at Essek’s home he opted for staying with you retreating to the upstairs of the Xhorhaus and finding the both of you a comfy spot to spend your time in a more relaxed environment. Essek sits, back against the tree while you lay sprawled across the floor next to his outstretched legs eyes closed as the wizard reads to you. He may not have allowed you to read for yourself as to not overwork yourself but the compromise you convinced him to was agreeable. More than agreeable if you’re honest.

It’s no secret you like spending time together as you do so a lot. You may be a little more affectionate with each other than say for example with Caleb or Jester. It doesn’t go unnoticed Essek likes you, if anything the man’s made it pretty clear and vice versa. Neither of you have just ever acted on it. With everything going on in your lives, how could you? You’re a ragtag adventurer with no allegiance to kingdom or country. He’s the bloody spymaster of the Dynasty. It’s not exactly a conventional prospect of a future, nor is it likely to succeed with the kind of lives you live. Could you really afford that kind of struggle? Maybe, if you were willing to take the risk but lately things have been hectic and this moment of relaxation beneath the tree at the top of this tower is the first moment of peace either of you have known in a long time.

You swear, you’re paying attention. You might still have to reread the whole book again as you’re just entranced by the sound of Essek’s voice. The man could make anything sound interesting. Give him those pages from that Iva lady back at the Chastity’s Nook in Zadash and Essek could make even that sound like a master piece. Though in hindsight, maybe best not as you think he might not be able to get past the first few sentences himself. The cringe.

“Are you still listening?” Essek’s reading voice breaks in favour of the question as he watches you drift off with a smile on your face. He’s almost afraid to ask the question but is unsure if that’s because you’ve grown tired or the subject bores you too much.

“Hm?” You perk up turning your head to the side and looking at the wizard. The exhaustion is written over your face but doesn’t diminish the content smile you present.

“Perhaps that is enough for the day?” Essek suggests closing the book and sits up a little straighter. He places the book by his side as you sit up and go to reach for it. Essek’s quicker and places his hand firmly on top of it and prevents you from taking it. He’s very sure you’d have no trouble retrieving the book if you really wanted to and maybe he’d like you to try, just a little, but you’re tired and need rest. Not fill your mind with pages of knowledge attempting to cram in the words. You’re a good study but even the best of studies cannot combat the banes of exhaustion.

“It is getting late anyway.” Essek says as you roll back and find yourself, head leaning against his thigh, looking up at the drow with a pout as he insinuates he’ll have to leave soon. You catch him off guard but he’s not opposed to the sense of affection and comfort you radiate. Physical affection is rare between the two of you especially since he’s very new to it in such contexts. He’s still getting used to it and he’d be lying if he said it’s unwelcome.

“If you say so.” You stay like this for a few more minutes before the ruckus downstairs pulls you out of your moment and you’re reminded Essek needs to head back to his own home. He still has business to attend to, business he’s been procrastinating in favour of spending more time with you. You sit back up, swing your legs beneath yourself and rise to your feet offering Essek a hand to help him to his feet.

“Essek, do you have a moment.” Caleb calls over as he enters the living space. The drow looks at you as if to ask if you know what this might be about or more like your permission to allow himself to be whisked away by the wizard interrupting your goodbye. You shrug.

“I should probably try and prevent this kitchen fire waiting to happen. I take it Cad’s still out getting groceries?” Caleb nods and you sigh shudder preparing for the oncoming disaster rushing into the kitchen like a valiant hero, albeit a little more domestic than your usual adventures, valiant no less.

A conversation between two wizards in one room and a homemade fluffernutter dismantled in another you reunite with Essek. There he is floating in all his glory, cloak back around his shoulders you see him off. Essek seems a little… nervous? Is that the right word? So you give Caleb a look but he acts all innocent. You know better than to trust that. Nevermind, you’ll have an easier time getting it out of Essek than Caleb if you need to. Caleb sends the others off to their own business persuading them to clean up before Caduceus returns and finds his precious kitchen in disarray or any other state he didn’t leave it in before he left. The firbolg is quite protective of his pride and joy. You lead Essek over to the hall but interpose yourself between him and the door crossing your arms and tapping your foot expectedly.

“So is this where you tell me what you and Caleb talked about or am I going to have to work for it?” The look you give Essek makes him want to spill all the beans right then right there but he wants to do this the right way and not be a blabbering incoherent mess. He has to do this the right way. You deserve that much; if not for the way he feels then simply for every effort you’d put in your actions to do with him.

“It’s to do with you.” Oh? Now you’re curious. “I asked Caleb for some advise.” What in the worlds would he need to go to Caleb for to get advise on to do with you? Essek’s not one to admit lacking either skill or knowledge when it’s about people and even less so to confide in another in such a way because by all means, his little side bar with with the redhead was anything but an interrogation to get information about character, motives and possible leverage like he would have navigated a political encounter.

“And what, pray tell could Caleb be lecturing you on?” You grin with he gentle stroke at Essek’s ego. If you know one thing, sweet-talking will get you everywhere with this man. Not that you’d minded. Not that you were lying. You’d never lie about such things. But you’re also not against using your opinions to gently persuade the drow in revealing what he’s hiding.

“Matters of heart. It seems I am at a disadvantage when expressing them to the subject of my affections.” Essek admits and you watch the skin of his cheeks to become a darker shade of purple. Damn, this is not going the way he envisioned it. Like a rock being tossed into the elemental plane of water, sinking into that eternal ocean.

“Oh really, now? It seems to me you’re doing perfectly fine.” Essek laughs awkwardly and looks to the floor to gather his bearings but when he feels your hand rise to his cheek and lift his gaze to look you in the eye, when you step in a little closer to him. He knows you’re teasing, or at least partially teasing. He also knows best to rip the bandaid off quickly and hope you’ll be merciful in your answer.

“I was wondering if you’d join me on an outing, tomorrow if it suits you?” Essek feels the words leave his lips. He doesn’t blurt them out like some lovesick fool and is thankful for that at least.

“Of course, will we be going to the library again? Or another shopping trip? Need me to carry more of those heavy papers again? Please can we do this time without any assassins sent to kill you? I think we could both do with a break for once.” You laugh and it becomes quite clear to Essek his phrasing might have been a little off so he’ll have to correct himself. Great. Just what he needs. Make this more awkward and difficult for himself than it already is. Maybe he would have been better off blurting out the words like a lovesick fool.

“What I had in mind would be more like a planned outing, a break from our usual lives and away from the responsibilities we both carry.” Essek clarifies and the copper drops for you.

“Essek, are you asking me to go on a date with you?” Yes. Yes. For the love of the gods, the Luxon and all that is sacred thank you for speaking the words correctly instead of leaving him to go in circles until he can’t anymore and dies from embarrassment. Why does he always turn into a mess when it comes to you? Because he likes you, a lot, maybe even more than just like. Definitely more than just that.

“That is exactly what I have been attempting and failing to convey, yes.” He admits ashamed. Your laugh makes for a good consolation though, no matter your answer. Up until now the possibility of your answer whichever outcome, had never been a bother to him as he never really gave asking you a thought, for his own sake or this may just have gone much worse with his tendency to overthink. In suspense he awaits. Not even the powers of dunamis at his fingertips could make the passage of time before your answer feel like less when in reality you barely missed a beat.

“Of course. I’d love nothing more.” You caress his cheek. Your smile grows from amusement to joy and Essek couldn’t be happier. He felt himself slipping into a smile of his own. Essek let himself go in that joy and relief you accepted rather than the stress of the actual date tomorrow. He’ll worry about that one later.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #essek thelyss x reader #essek x reader #critical role #mighty nein

[aks3raao1]

Me, to Luja: So tell me about yourself

Luja: No

Me: ...ma'am I need to write the story—

Luja: Good luck <3

[now that I do think of it, ALTERNATIVE's main duo that's established right at the beginning is literally a chiller but edgier Katsuki and way worse sUrViVe Nagito genderbends]

~~~~~~

Luja Sen, she/her

Anyways, Luja and Romila are friends from middle school (the story starts with the beginning of their high school at AoS (Academy of the Specialised) which was essentially founded by Nyx). Luja gains her Specialisation (Ferrokinesis: The Ability to bend metal) at the age of twelve, so she has it for a lesser time period than Romila.

Luja primarily wants to become a scientist. Her family is happy with that, because it's praised and everything, especially in our society.

She has a gifted child superiority complex. Being a gifted child + Specialised means that she hardly had many friends in school. Her family had tried to get her to socialize....which didn't go down too well.

She believes that most people are annoying because they waste too much time on useless things like gossiping and what not, which she never showed much interest in and doesn't like to be dragged into those nonsense.

She is friends with Romila since they do share the same taste in stuff and were the only Specialised ones in their class. And they kinda stuck together for most of middle school and went into high school.

She has a problem when it comes to seeing Romila since she tends to see her bad parts and is like, "It's a phase" considering that it's not necessarily affecting her. Romila doesn't get too cranky with her since she fascinates her, with her passion™ for science. Also because she isn't all self sacrifice UwU.

Luja cares for her own self above others (but tends to put Romila pretty close to that hierarchy, which is why she's one of the only two Romila trusts during the Mansion of Death (the other person is Kratanos)) however she also does want to keep what friends she has and is generally caring towards them.

She has a genuine love for science and loves to discover how things work and why, and her favourite facet is Physics. She does want to invent things and honestly just make stuff easier for the Specialised who face a LOT of issues, especially when it comes to amenities since the government is an ass about accomodations and they gained the Fundamental Rights like ten years or so ago in the ALTERNATIVE timeline. And they gain an additional right ("The body won't be harmed for science") when they graduate from school, after signing a contract that they dedicate themselves to helping the government when called upon. (The whole contract is stupid and basically oppresses them more especially the punishment for not abiding by it).

With her goal of becoming a scientist, she wants to use her talents to make accomodations specifically for them so that she could have done something.

The things she fears the most is failure. Failing as in being unable to accomplish her goals. She is afraid of it because it's an unknown variable that's constantly haunted her and she's working hard for it to never reach her.

I suppose there's a way for her to confront that fear during the Mid terms at AoS where she essentially "loses" in the practicals due to her......teamwork issues.

Everyone thinks of her as stuck up and isn't interested to listen to her much and since she views the others as annoying people with annoying habits, she tends to fail to regulate them, causing Romila to win instead (yes, it's THAT unfortunate of a situation) in their match, which causes her to review a LOT of things and she tries to see what caused her to lose after having a severe breakdown.

She develops an inferiority complex in respect to Romila and then spends a long time wondering where she went wrong.

Rena (who somehow clung to her) tries to cheer her up but gets turned back halfway, but she still stays on and Luja is like, "Wtf" until she sees Romila going entirely off the deep end (she presents an interesting contrast to how Koldin sees Romila as well, she sees Romila's behavior and considers it as a justification for her own self....she uses Romila to justify herself a lot (since if you asked Romila, Luja was more or less fine according to her since she wasn't being a doormat and stood up for herself) while Koldin sees Romila as the reason he should cling onto his own stuff) and realises that she could be on the path to destruction herself and accepts Rena's help and tries to be more open to others which leads to the Mid terms parallels in the Archenemy of Society arc where she "succeeds" instead and manages to get the class together enough to escape the situation.

However it doesn't mean that her fear of failure has entirely vanished into the blue, she just reviews the ways she can fail better now and works around it to avoid it and has more confidence in her own self. But she is still scared of failing and would love to avoid that more than anything. However she's chiller after that.

Her intelligence is more or less on par with both Romila and Kratanos, making them the three main strategists in the final battle against the bigots (which is basically a rerun of the Mansion of Death situation but way way worse and fucked up and has different leads to it).

....

The thing is that, no matter what I do, she winds up feeling like one dimensional/repetitive, which is something I am trying to amend about all the characters (I mean, I had to revamp a lot of characters so it will probably take me a long long time to actually get to writing.........sigh besides she stands up like a cardboard amongst people (I mean, you have Romila and Kratanos with extremely complicated storylines and then you have her. Just there))

So the main question is how to make her more interesting as a character and on par with the rest while still keeping her character flaws and personality?

I think the easiest way to go abt this is to view her as a sassy Bakugo. They have the main points in common. They're salty, don't like to socialise, feel inferior to a certain someone while still having some semblance of confidence and a terrible fear of failure

Now as much as I hate to compare your character to another one, it makes it a lot easier to have them become - as my English teacher would say - more. So I am sorry if this comes off as offensive-

For Bakugo, he became interesting by playing a big part in the mc's main story and we do get a few scenes where his vulnerability is shown. I assume it's the same with your character but...what rlly ties the knot for me when it comes to Katsuki is the fact that his problems...are more than just an inferiority/superiority complex. His whole thing stems from background especially (*cough* abusive mom *cough*) and the fact that he's not the main character (or rather that the story isn't being told in his perspective).

These facts make us over think and want more of him. The mystery draws us in which is why I think Luja's character is so perfect for someone in the background. She doesn't like to reveal things abt herself and is pretty dismissive to most things on top of that (plainly just salty). Her character rlly draws you in and the best way to portray those kinds of characters is through another character. Ofc, you'd have to get to their POV eventually but it's important to note that most of the details should come from someone else's POV (an observer, if you will) instead of info dumping and starting straight with hers. A character that's mysterious with a very simple yet relatable story attracts a LOT more attention and interest when seen from someone else's perspective than when you kickstart it from theirs.

Ofc, if u are planning (or already have) started the story from her POV, that would be a bit problematic in terms of interest. But not a train wreck. This is where my other point comes in. The point of making a character have more than one problem

Different ppl as well as characters have a main problem but also different ones, no matter what way you look at it. It seems that even you are confused with all ur character's ins and outs (dw, we've all been there... I am still there tbh) and a solution to that is backtracking a bit and looking at their life from the very beginning in HEAVY detail (like more than u already did). Think abt what other trauma could have been caused, what doubts and fears could have slowly crept it's way to her heart and head (I am a sucker for long-lasting doubts that develop over time) and anything you can even so much as GRASP on. If you look at it and see it as a possibility, try to fit that into her character and add it subtly in different places (as subtext or a creative pattern, wordplay, doesn't rlly matter as long as it's not openly stated bc, remember, the key thing to these types of characters is mystery).

For example, a fear of failure can stem into anxiety before the character has even lost smth later in their life. They probably get rlly anxious when evaluating smth but don't show it much or at all so no one notices. This adds even MORE to the character bc you can build it up after other events. Like once they have failed, they could probably get even more anxious and then develop a bad relationship with the person who beat them (double the points if it was a friend). You could build all that up and turn it super toxic instead of jumping right to the healing. It makes it more interesting, doesn't it? Plus, reevaluating almost everything including world views after 1 loss is...kind of hard to believe even with anxiety (no offense)

Adding a lot of little problems and thinking abt how Luja's behaviour can impact other characters helps a terrible lot if ur doing most of the story from her POV. Especially since she's probably the most relatable character (from what I've heard anyway). I have a certain saying... it goes like, "It's better to have a relatable and connecting character than one with a problem that is too big for normal people to fathom."

I like characters with heart-wrenching problems that I would never be able to relate to (take maybe Shigaraki as an example ig?) But my favourite are the ones that make me feel as tho I made a real connection

Also, I would like to say...if ur looking to progress her character even further, I would debate on whether it's the complete end to the novel or if there'll be a second part. If it's a second part, keep some of Luja's issues. Make her get better but not completely "YAY, I AM DONE BEING TORMENTED". If it's the end of the novel/series/etc., make it so that she's resolved most of most of her issues. They don't have to be completely gone but they have to be a lot better compared to how they started. And how i would work that out is a mind map but knowing ur a scatterbrain...lets talk it out where everything is all over the place

Luja's main thing is to gain confidence in herself and be finally ok with losing, right? If you ask me, that's a tough one but not impossible. I think to get her from point A to point B is to put up a bunch of events like:

Get her super anxious when doing smth

Lose to *insert person*

Have a breakdown and over think on what she could have done better (on the project or whatever she lost at)

Get even more anxious and totally mess up the next thing

Lose once again (double points if it's the same person as last time)

Overthinking abt how she's not good enough

F i g h t i n g f r i e n d s c o z d r a m a

"YoU'rE nEvEr GoNnA gEt BeTtEr If YoU kEeP tHiNkInG aBoUt YoUrSeLf"

Over think abt no. 8 bc out of options and ideas and ✨a n x i e t y✨

Try listening to others more and become b e t t e r

Win smth (bc creator forbid 3 losses in a row to start depression)

Lose again (there is gonna be a bit of back and forth but is necessary for development)

"I tHoUgHt I wAs FiNaLlY dOiNg SoMeThInG rIgHt AnD nOw LoOk"

"Losing is not th3 3nd of th3 fucking world, you lunatic"

"WELL, IT IS TO ME, BITCH"

*insert psychology somehow idk*

Another loss

"I'm angry...but I'm ok"

Note that idk where bullying would come in and these are only how I would think it to go-

A character like this isn't rlly my strong suit when it comes to them resolving their problems but they are fun to write and think abt-

................................did I just give you advice on how to traumatize? I-

#writing #writing advice #wow i rlly am a sadist #character analysis #KK's character #well shit wtf did i go on abt-

[papergirllife]

Chapter 1

Synopsis:

You don’t know what it’s like to be free, to make your own choices, and live your own life. For your whole life, your parents have been treating you like a puppet on strings, controlling your life to every single detail, as well as ignoring the fact that you have feelings. Other times, when you disobey their wishes, or speak up about your own opinions, they bash you down with words, in other words, psychological abuse, has led you down the long winded road of depression and anxiety. What happens when you meet a man who’s willing to be your guide out of this terrible downpour? Would you give a shot at happily ever after?

Warnings:

big age gap (kinda?)

issues on anxiety

issues on depression (mild)

issues on parental abuse

smut (maybe)

Tag List: @etherealtyjaem​ (lmk if you wanna be on the list)

It has always been like this, being locked up in the study room so you could ‘study’ for hours end, or that’s what they think you’re doing. You studied in an elite academy with your smart cousins, only to have you graduating with average grades, which of course, earned you a harsh scolding from your parents. Now, you’re supposed to be studying business for university, even though you had zero interests in it, the subject is fine, it’s what you’re studying it for that irks you. Your family runs a business in Seoul, but from what you can see by secretly skimming through the files as well as the arguments behind shut doors with your aunts and uncles, things aren’t going as planned.

You don’t have many friends, nor a phone, they took it away from you when you wanted to go out with some friends, claiming that it’s a distraction that should be locked away. You felt like Rapunzel, locked away from the world, they don’t have any love for you, you’re quite sure they don’t, they had once slapped your face ten times when you had a boyfriend behind their backs, and you were 15 for god’s sake, along with other things that you rather not say, you don’t want to relive all those painful memories.

Sometimes you wished you could go back to the time when you were a child, when you were at your grandparents’ in the morning, her warm smile and loving eyes, when you didn’t know what laid ahead. You wish you hadn’t realised that you were being abused, you used to think what you went through was the same for other kids as well, until you talked about it with other people and scared them away from you. The painful memories sinking back in made the words in front of you blurry as you felt tears seeping in your eyes.

Depression.

It’s deemed as something ridiculous in your family, and that people who are suffering from it are weaklings and don’t deserve anything from this society.

‘Does that mean I’m weak?’

You never went to therapy nor took any medication for your mental illnesses, and recently the development of anxiety attacks are constantly putting you on edge. You have them at least once a week, sometimes you even had problem breathing, but you couldn’t tell anyone about it, nor anyone would ever listen to your cries of help.

“We’re going to help sell your uncle’s house this Saturday,” your mother said as she was folding the clothes.

“The mansion he recently bought?” you asked, confused as to why he would sell the mansion he was obsessed with just two months ago.

“Yes, he bought that without our permission back then, so now we need to sell it for funds, and you need to be there to entertain the potential buyers, give them a tour around the house and other enquiries. You have to direct them to us if you think they’re truly interested, it’s going to be an open house concept party,” cold, that’s how your mother sounded, her claims of putting family above everything else flying out of the window whenever her demands are not met.

“Okay, is there anything else?” you asked, hoping to be excused as soon as possible.

“No, you can continue your studies in the study room.”

That’s what basic communication is in your life, you tried talking about your interests, your opinions, but they either fall on deaf ears, or you would receive a lecture for having a ‘false perspective’. You’ve given up on talking to them about things that are going in on your life now, they don’t listen anyways.

The party is filled with old men with their muffin tops waddling around with a wine glass in hand and talking obnoxiously loud, obviously having too much money to go by, looking at how overly filled their bellies are.

You tried hiding away in the house, but your family kept pushing you out to talk to them. Their stares were not intimidating, no, but it made you feel uncomfortable as their gazes linger a bit too long on your legs or anywhere else, and the way they didn’t want to let go after they shook your hand, made your anxiety levels rise to the roof.

You would find random excuses to run away, like going to refill their glass or saying you need to use the loo, your heartbeat going as fast as your legs could take you away from them.

When you came back out from hiding for the 6th time, both your parents were rushing you to meet someone new.

“He’s a man of great fortune and power, so the chances of him buying this house is high. Don’t try to hide from this one, or you’ll get it when we get home,” your mother warned, her eyes side eying you with daggers.

Your mother’s threat made you sick inside, what are you to them? A scapegoat?

You weren’t paying attention to who or where was she pushing you to, but once you stopped, the man in front of you made your eyes as big as saucers.

‘How is a man like this doing here?’ you thought to yourself.

“Hello Mr Suh, we’re quite busy at the moment with other potential buyers. Why don’t we allow my daughter, Y/N, to show you around?” your mother said, her voice overly sweet, like day old cotton candy.

Once you were in front of him, your parents left. Leaving you helpless as your social anxiety kicks in, your eyes trained on his shoulder, eye contact, especially from this man, made you very nervous.

“C-can I give you a tour?’ you asked, hoping to ditch him halfway.

Johnny looks at the way your eyes avoid his, it wasn’t hard, given how tall he was, there’s just something so intriguing about you, so different from the girls that throw themselves at him with zero doubts.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Johnny,” Johnny introduced himself by bending down slightly, a friendly smile on his face, one that you can’t decipher whether he had similar intentions as those nasty old men had.

To say that the tour was horrible would’ve been an understatement, you kept stuttering under his piercing gaze, instead of looking at you like you were his next meal like other potential buyers, Johnny was genuinely listening to what you have to say. You didn’t think the house was any interesting, it was just a bunch of useless expensive things under one roof, like the movie room, the slides at the pool, the ‘mini’ bar. These things weren’t appealing to you, riches are overrated when it becomes too common, like your cousins and their different designs of Birkin bags, you weren’t exactly fond of their favourite alligator skinned ones as well.

Yet Johnny didn’t look at the cliche setting that you are currently presenting, instead his eyes are trained on yours, it wasn’t a scrutinizing gaze like the wives of those perverted men who stared down on you, nor anything that seems predatory, it only held calculation and observance. On the house? It doesn’t seem like it. On you? You can bet this whole house that he’s met women far more beautiful compared to a plain jane like you.

“T-that’s all for the tour, Mr Suh. Would you want me to direct you to my parents, if you’re interested?” you asked, hoping that you’d get to be alone again.

“Can you take me to the park nearby? I’d like to see the facilities available in this housing area,” he answered smoothly, as if he had calculated every little detail in his life.

You nodded wordlessly at his request, taking him to see the park nearby the house. It was a weird sight, having a man as tall as Johnny towering behind you.

“This is the park,” you pointed stupidly, cursing at yourself, obviously this is the park,  anyone with eyes could tell.

Johnny inhaled the breath of fresh air this area offered, his shoulders not as tensed up after. A smile decorated his handsome face as he turned towards you.

“Let’s sit.”

Johnny directed you to the nearest park bench, his size taking up most of the bench, yet he scoots into himself as you sat down next to him, giving you personal space.

‘Does he think I’m going to lower the price of the house for him? I don’t even know how much they’re selling it for,’ you thought, thinking this man must be mad that an unimportant person like you could negotiate with him.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Y/N. I’m not interested in the house,” Johnny said, breaking the silence.

Your mom isn’t going to be pleased when she hears this, you thought as you bit at your bottom lip, thinking about how harsh is she going to react if she didn’t get a buyer out of this event.

“Thank you for taking your time for considering through out this-

“I’m interested in you.”

Did you hear that correctly or was your mind playing tricks on you?

You stared at Johnny as his hand comes close to your face, he wasn’t pulling you closer, instead his fingers reached out to gently graze the underside of your eyes.

“I can see what you’re hiding,” Johnny said solemnly, his eyes showing you pity.

You quickly took out your compact mirror out of your pocket, checking to see if you did a bad job on the concealer for your puffy eyes today, but it looked fine.

“I used to be involve in theater, and I’ve seen people covering unwanted marks or eye bags on their face many times. It’s not obvious to most people, don’t worry,” Johnny explained.

The touch of his fingertips on your face was filled with warmth, as well as his eyes when he looked at you now, if his eyes were honey you’ll be as addicted as Winnie the Pooh. His touch was quickly gone as it had came, his hand placed back into his lap as he stares ahead.

“I’m not going to assume anything, but from what I can see, I don’t think you deserve to be going through what you’re facing now. And as for your family’s company, it’s not going to last long even if they managed to sell this property out. You’re going to be in a much more disappointing situation when that happens, I’ve been in the business game my whole life, my predictions hardly go astray anymore,” Johnny said without a sliver of judgement, he was just laying out the cards for you to observe.

Johnny reaches for a card in his coat pocket and handed it to you, it was his business card.

“I can take you away from all this chaos raging among your family, if you can call it a family that is. I’ll be seeing you soon, Y/N,” Johnny said before standing up and walking away to the direction where his car awaits, his driver closing his door.

That was most definitely a statement.

#nct smut #nct fluff #nct #johnny suh #johnny smut #johnny fluff #seo young ho #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv

[rafecameron]

dancing on my own

request: Angst with no happy ending? How abt *insert actor/character* getting married and their ex (the reader) kinda 'forcing herself' to go to the wedding bc she really wants to see their mutual friends again but like doesn't wanna see the wedding. And reader just watching the love of their live get married and be happy with someone else and their heart silently being ripped apart? Too cruel?

pairing: ex!luke patterson x reader

word count: 2.1K

warnings: heartbreak, no happy ending

a/n: here you go cruel anon. turns out im not that great at heartbreak but hopefully this makes your heart crack a little bit. (also idk if people read authors notes but my requests are currently closed!) 

Y/N thought back on all the times she could have turned around. When she was getting into her car. When she reached the airport. When she queued to board the plane. When she checked into her hotel. When she began to get ready. Now she was facing the very last time she could turn around. Stood outside the venue, all dressed up with no one to walk her inside. But just like the times before, she didn’t turn around, she pushed on. Her heart breaking a little more with each step, she knew that surely by the end of the night there would be nothing left but crumbs. She had promised herself two things before this trip. Number one; she would not speak to him. Number two; she would not cry. She wasn’t entirely sure she would be able to keep either of the promises to herself, but repeating them in her head made her feel that little bit calmer.

She situated herself beside a table lined with drinks, helping herself to a flute of champagne. She was anxious for the doors to be opened so she could find a seat, somewhere in a corner at the back would suit her just fine. Out of sight of anyone who would surely recognise her, she had no intentions of engaging in conversation until the reception. But seeing as what was happening today she should have known it would be her unlucky day.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” a voice speaks beside her and she turns, landing eyes on someone she had not seen for far too long. His suit was tailored perfectly to his body, his long hair tied in a bun at the back of his head. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” He pulls her into a hug.

“I wasn’t sure I would either,” she admits as she pulls away, “I wasn’t going to, but I wanted to see everyone...most people.”

Willie laughs softly, “I’m glad you’re here, sit beside me?” He asks, motioning with his head towards the doors that were being pulled open.

“Oh, I was just gonna sit in the back,” she stumbles over her words as Willie takes ahold of her hand, “Aren’t you going to sit with Alex?”

“He’s preoccupied.” Willie states simply, ignoring her protests as he pulls her towards the front of the room to take a seat in the front row.

She sighs as she sits down beside him. The sick feeling in her stomach growing as the room slowly became more and more full, people lining up on the benches and getting ready to watch the ceremony.

Willie reaches down and takes ahold of her hand again, giving it a light squeeze and offering a comforting smile, “You don’t have to stay.” He whispers.

“I do.” She nods, “I want to see everyone, I won’t stay all day but I need to at least say hello now I’m here.”

Willie nods his head, squeezing her hand one last time and patting her knees before turning back to face forward, the ceremony would be starting any minute and she found that her eyes were glued to the pattern on the floor.

For the entirety of the ceremony she didn’t look up. She didn’t want to risk meeting his eyes, didn’t want to see her friends sympathetic looks and definitely didn’t want to see the bride looking beautiful in her white dress. She tried her best not to listen, she couldn’t stomach hearing the vows and knew if she heard the words I do in his voice she’d cry. So she thought about anything else but what was happening in front of her.

She finally looked up when the couple was safely past her line of sight, eyes instantly meeting that of an old blonde friend. He gave her a wave, she was sure the smile was supposed to make her feel better but she just felt more pathetic. Why was she even here? She’s sure the invite was out of politeness and not an actual invitation to come. And if her friends were going to be tiptoeing around her and treating her like a porcelain doll she wasn’t sure she could cope. The nicer people were to her about this the more likely it was she would break down.

She didn’t want to think about it, about him, sure she was at his wedding but that didn’t mean this day had to be about him. She wanted to have a catch up with her friends, avoid her ex the whole night and then go back home, cry with a bottle of wine and forget this whole thing ever happened.

“I’m glad you came.” Alex says as he reaches her, pulling her into a hug, “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too.” She responds truthfully, “Can we go to the reception? I think I need a drink already.”

Alex laughs, taking Willies hand in his own and leading the way towards the after party. The amount of people that were there she was sure she would be able to avoid the groom for the night. She found herself situated on a table with her friends, helping herself to a glass of wine and making sure the bottle was kept close to her.

No matter how excited she was to see her friends she found that now she was here she was finding it hard to hold a conversation. The group around her were still familiar with each other, still seeing each other and having things to talk about, she felt a little like a spare part. But still she smiled along and listened to their conversation. Something about a recent party they had attended where Reggie had drank a little too much, she laughed along with them unsure of what else to do. The more they spoke and tried to involve her in the conversation the more she realised she didn’t really know the people around her anymore. Sure she had good memories with them and she would always consider them her friends, but she didn’t really know them.

The best thing about weddings it that you can be invisible if you wanted to be. The bride and groom were always busy, everyone wanting to talk to them and congratulate them, and the drunker the guests got the easier it was to slip away from conversations and merely watch the scenes unfold. Which is exactly what she did. She watched her friends get drunk and progressively louder, not noticing anymore if she wasn’t joining in their conversation. If the night continued this way she was certain she would make it out in one piece.

She thought she was doing a pretty good job of avoiding the one person she feared seeing the most. But halfway through the night a hand landed on her shoulder and a familiar scent filled her nose. She felt her skin ignite where his fingers touched and she begged the butterflies in her stomach to go away, to fly away and disappear forever.

Turning in her seat she finally meets his eyes for the first time that night, forcing a smile onto her face as she stands up and allows him to pull her into a hug. Her heart hammers in her chest and she uses every ounce of will power within her to not shed any tears, she felt the epitome of pathetic. Wanting to cry at a wedding like she was in a bad romcom movie. Only if this were a movie she’d get the guy, or a second guy would come sweep her off her feet and make her forget the first one was ever there. She didn’t see that happening anytime soon.

“Thanks for coming.” Luke smiles, “You look great, that colour really suits you.”

She returns his smile with a tight lipped one of her own, “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.” She attempts a light hearted laugh.

She looked away, she couldn’t stand looking into his eyes any longer, his gaze intense and stirring way too many different emotions inside of her. She wanted him to be horrible to her, to tell her to leave and never come back, not to tell her she looks great. How was she ever supposed to get over him when he was nothing but nice to her all the time. She wished he had done something at the end to allow her to hate him. Cheat on her maybe, or tell her he never loved her, then maybe she’d stand a tiny chance of getting over him and moving on with her life. Instead he was selfish and kept her at arms length because he knew he always could and that should have been enough for her to stay away, but she just couldn’t.

“Congratulations,” she looks back at him, eyes settling just above his to avoid his gaze, “You seem really happy, I wish you all the best.”

“Thanks,” he smiles and it’s genuine, something which breaks her heart a little more.

Of course she wants him to be happy, but a bigger part of her wants him to be happy with her and not anyone else. She knows that’s selfish, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to wish it into existence no matter how futile she knows it is.

“Have you met Jess?” He asks, placing a hand on her shoulder as though about to lead her somewhere.

“Oh, no I haven’t but she looks busy,” she quickly shrugs his hand off, the bride she could see from the corner of her eye, laughing at something another guest had said, “I’ll introduce myself later.” She lies.

The only thing she could think that would be worse than this wedding was having to actually meet the bride. To meet her replacement, the better version. The one who had stolen his heart and been worth enough to keep it forever. She forces a smile and excuses herself to the bathroom.

As she reaches the bathroom she can feel her eyes stinging, shutting herself in a cubicle she fans her face, determined not to let a single tear fall. She had made a promise to herself and the least she could do was keep it. She leant her head back against the door, letting out a shaky breath to compose herself.

Once she was sure she wouldn’t cry she exited the bathroom again, thankful to see that he was no longer at the table she had just ran from. She took her seat and no one asked where she had been or if she was okay, she was glad for that at least.

As the night wore on she thought she was doing okay, one little hiccup but no tears since, she’d even found herself genuinely laughing at a couple points. He’d spoken to her and she hadn’t thrown up on his shoes, he had no reason to try and speak to her again.

But then it was time for the first dance and she felt her chest tightening. Her calm composure being over taken by a sinking feeling of dread. She watched for a minute, watched him hold her close and smile. Watched him lean in to kiss her gently before spinning her under his arm and pulling her back in. She wished more than anything that it was her in his arms, her who he still looked at like the world shone behind her eyes. But it would never be her again, and his bride she was sure was far more beautiful than she could ever hope to be.

She watched as more dancers joined the floor, her friends among them. She tried to smile, but the sight was too much for her. Her friends laughing and dancing with their loved ones while she sat on the side lines and watched feeling like a stranger. The slow music a melancholy soundtrack to her emotions, reminding her of something she could never have.

She stands from the table, dragging her eyes over each person she knew, lingering on Luke for a moment longer before she turned and walked out of the room. She knew that this would be the last time she ever saw him, because she knew seeing him happy with someone else would be a slow form of torture. So she walked away, from him, from her friends forever, leaving whatever little pieces were left of her heart behind. By the time she exited the building she felt nothing more than a hollow shell and she finally let the tears fall.

tags: @lovesanimals @makebank @chrlsgillespie @crybabyddl @marinettepotterandplagg @caitsymichelle13 @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @alexpjoyner @meangirlsx

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson fic #luke patterson imagine #jatp fic #my writing

[silvermahogany]

Talking about a few songs I associate with my favourite aonoex characters bc i enjoy shoving my music taste in people's faces and analysing the shit out of nothing <3

Recent chapter spoiler warning lessgo, also mentions of suicide tw

THE MAIN MANS HIMSELF

Still feel - Half•Alive

"I am not a slave, so pick me from the dark and pull me from the grave"

In my mind, this is his themesong without a doubt. Its reached the point where wherever i hear it it makes me really happy because I associate it with him so strongly :,D might just be because I found it while getting back into the fandom when Ren was kinda transitioning to my favourite so they came up together but either way, absolute banger. The bit at the end when everything drops and the lead singer belts his heart out, I always love to picture Ren doing the same in the illuminati uniform with Yamatanka building around him and I've never wanted to learn how to animate more in my life cause my GOD he's so cool.

My favourite song for my favourite character <3

Preach - Saint Motel

"Oh im down on my knees, mercy"

Its so happy and bouncy?? And the vibes are immaculate?? Matches well with the themes of religion as well, this one definitely shows his flirty loverboy side more, it gives the impression of some lovestruck idiot stumbling over himself every time his crush does anything and honestly, sounds like something he'd do. Good song makes me go :))))

Your Love (Deja Vu) - Glass Animals

"You eat us up, you live like you're on camera"

I feel like this one captures his spy side a little more than the others. The lower notes in the main verses give a secretive feel, like he's halfway through a mission and trying trying stay silent. But it's also flirty in a more smooth way than wholesome crushes like the rest. The lead singer has such a gorgeous voice too i'll praise glass animals until the day i die 🥺🥺 God tier song god tier vibe 1000000/10

Do It All The Time - IDKHOWBUTTHEYFOUNDME

"Now we're so young but we're probably gonna die, it's so fun we're so good at selling lies"

Now THIS is a song for a spy working for a secret deadly organisation, all about world domination and having a great time doing it. Renzou is a free spirit and loves the freedom of his job, and this song really captures that for me. He knows he's in danger, but he's living his best life and he's having a great time doing it baybeeee B)))

Sweet Talk - Saint Motel

"You could yell 'piss off won't you stay away!' And still be sweet talk to my ears"

Ren is a persistent little shit when it comes comes crushes and this song shows it, a song about a guy who's so infatuated he doesn't care if he's hated or laughed at, he just loves hearing their voice. I see this as a bit of a yukishima anthem tbh, I feel like in the early stages of their relationship it would be pretty one sided with Shima trying to win him over and Yukio shutting him down so this matches that pretty well :>

Cant go five minutes without talking about them can i-

Honourable mentions-

Talk too much - COIN - very flirty and cheesy considered it as his themesong for a while

Toxic - Britney Spears - self explanatory :)

Razzmatazz - IDKHBTFM - everything they make shows his spy side imo, good for daydreaming

Van horn - Saint Motel -honestly anything by Saint Motel or Half•Alive reminds me of him, great bands :D

YUKIO MY BELOVED

Yukio was weirdly a lot harder for me to find songs for. For Renzou i have a giant playlist I add to over time, supreme comfort playlist egegegeheh, but Yukio's is a lot shorter for some reason. I guess his vibe is a little difficult to get down but a while scrolling through my main playlist and I think I have a decent few that at least match his character development and plotline.

Stressed Out - Twenty one Pilots

"Out of student loans and treehouse homes we all would take the latter"

Pretty self explanatory really, mans was forced to grow up and mature way faster than he shouldve had to, having a high stress job by the age of 13 studying for two meister all while studying to be a normal doctor as well. Not much of a surprise he has so many mental issues by the beginning of the story. I dont listen to much TOP but the few songs I know seem to fit Yukio pretty nicely :)

Oh Klahoma - Jack Stauber

"Those aren't meant to bend, no those arent meant to bend"

Another song based on depression, but with a much quieter feel, much lower energy. I feel like this one more links to his tendencies of delf destruction, and how alone he feels as he faces his battle. Like he's singing into the void hoping for something to reply, but nothing will. Man :(

The Fall - Half•Alive

"I'd jump off and into your arms but i cant trust the fall"

I feel like this one highlight his story to Rin in a really realistic way. Yukio has a good heart, he's kind and wants to love his brother and open up to him he wants to get better. But he's so deep in his pit of depression and conflicting feelings over his brother that he can't bring himself to, he sees no way out. God I wanna write an analysis on his character so bAD-

Baby Hotline - Jack Stauber

"Numb, I've been burning with haste and I'm realising now it's a terrible waste"

We just keep getting darker huh, didn't pick very pleasant tunes for this boy did I. A bouncy, happy song about a girl calling a suicide hotline, lovely. But i feel like it describes his mental state pretty well, outside he seems ok. Sure Rin picks up that somethings off, but once Yukio assures him he doesnt really persist above asking him a couple times. But below the facade he's really reaching his breaking point, and I love how this song contrasts those two tones in a scarily natural way. Absolute banger

Fireflies - Gorillaz

"And if you say goodbye too many times, the sentinels will find me and switch me off this time"

One of my absolute favourite Gorillaz songs by far. The melody is so gorgeous, melancholic in the best kind of way. For Yukio I feel like it signifies how trapped he feels as Satan's son, he's hit his lowest point and he doesnt know how to start moving back up. But the song also has a hopeful feel to it, as if even though he feels lost, he will get better. In the recent chapters we see a moment of reconciliation between Yukio and the people around him, with Suguro forgiving him and tye two brothers finally getting a chance to to things out. Before everything went to shit lmaoo. But with that i really hope that after all the fighting is done, Yukio will finally get the chance to see how bad things have gotten, and reach out to get better. And this song shows that for me :D

Honourable mentions!!

Creature - Half•Alive - the first song I ever added to his playlist, there for sentimentality tbh

Cane shuga - Glass Animals - the plonky noises make the happy chemical go buckwild, not sure why it reminds me of him it just kinda does really

I Earn My Life - Lemon Demon - mans is overworked give him a break :( ngl i don't associate it with him much but i wanted to edge a lemon demon song in somewhere-

Dead inside - Younger Hunger - whenever I hear this I always imagine a really cool animation of him and it always plays out the same way and MAN I wanna animate so baDD

Absolute wordvomit woohoo, hypervocused on this instead if doing the assignment due this evening I'm a fantastic student. This was kinda fun tho!!! I might do other characters at somepoint, these guys are my favourites but i have a bunch of playlists for other characters like Amaimon and Shura, recommendations are welcome too!!

#blue exorcist #yukio okumura #shima renzou #aonoex #ao no exorcist #seriously i love Still Feel so much im losing my shit over that song #half alive #i put way too mucn effort into this #day 38372974838 of hyperfixating on these boys

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Invisible String

Summary - Dean Winchester was never a man who would freely speak about his feelings and emotions. The reader, is his best friend of many years but some wrong choices and words of Dean's pushes a the reader away.

Pairing - AU Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings - Fluff (lots of fluff), angst-ish, swearing, mentions of abusive relationship, mentions of bad parenting, cheating

Square filled - Bestfriend AU ( @spndeanbingo )

Word count - 6150

A/N - This is written for @supernatural-jackles' Bi-weekly challenge. The prompts are in bold. Spn dividers by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89 (go check her blog out) Beta'd by @mariekoukie6661 (she is a sweetheart for agreeing to take a look at this long fic. Thank you💕)

“So what are we watching?” You asked as you slumped down on the yellow couch. You were dead on your feet after a long week of work but you just couldn't break tradition and not hang out with your best friend like every friday. Pulling the comforter close to your body, you let out a sigh of contentment. Truth be told, no matter how exhausted you were, you always looked forward to movie night.

“I picked the movie last friday, now it's your turn,” Dean handed you a bottle of beer and took a seat beside you. Your eyes sparkled with a glint of mischief, a knowing smile appeared on your face as Dean's lips curled up in disgust. “No chick flicks,” he warned.

“I get to call dibs on the movie tonight so I picked,” you paused for a second to create a dramatic effect, “The Proposal.”

“No!” Dean cried out in horror.

“Oh come on, it is not going to be that bad. Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock are in that movie.” you winked at him, making him groan and he picked up a cushion to cover his face, “Now, now don't be so dramatic.” He removed the cushion from his face and glared at you. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. “Pizza's here!” He exclaimed as he got up to open the door. You turned on the tv, opened Netflix and put on the movie.

“I don't understand how we can be best friends,” Dean grumbled as he came back to the room, “you eat your pizza with pineapple on it.” “It tastes good. You should try it one day.” you said and took the two boxes of food from his hand, setting them down on the table in front.

“Are you kidding me? Even if that becomes the only food available on earth, I still won't eat it. You can't put fruits on pizza,” he said, and took a slice from his own pizza and nestled into the comforter beside you.

“Tomato is a fruit, De,” you said, biting into the slice in your hand. You heard him mutter something under his breath which you ignored and shifted your focus to the movie playing on the screen. Halfway through the movie, you yawned and snuggled into your best friend. He wrapped his warm hands around you, pulling you closer to him. “You want to head back now?” He asked softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“Nuh-uh,” you said, “I want to finish the movie. I need to see if Andrew got Margaret back .” That elicited a chuckle from Dean, the vibrations of his laugh shaking your body a little.

“You're so stubborn and they are gonna find each other, it's a chick flick for God's sake,” he said, “they love each other, clearly.”

“Speaking of love, Cas asked me out,” you said, making Dean sit up straight. “What'd you say?” He asked

“Yes obviously. I need to dive back into the dating life,” you shrugged, “and Cas seems like a good guy.”

“He is but I thought you wanted to wait because of what happened with you know ‘ he who must not be named’,” he said, and you picked up the remote to pause the movie.

“I can't live in the past. I need to move on. It has been two years since I've gone on a date and it's not like I'm getting engaged tomorrow. It's just a date,” you said, messing with the loose end of the comforter.

“As you wish. I'm just looking out for you.”

“I know. You always do,” you said, giving Dean a tight hug, “and I kinda miss doing it.”

“Doing what?” “Sex,” Dean's eyebrows shot up, “oh come on, it's not like I didn't use to have sex with….him.”

“So,” he gulped, “so you m-miss doing….it?”

“Kind of. My fingers are not enough, you know what I mean right?”

“Of course, of course,” Dean cleared his throat, blush crept up his neck.

“And it's not just sex, I miss the physical touch, I miss those things that are part of a relationship,” you said, “I need this and I think I'm ready.”

“If you think you're ready, then it's fine. I just don't want to see my best friend with a broken heart again.” he said, his fingers getting entangled in your hair, as he slowly massaged your scalp.

“That feels good,” you moaned, “after that hell of a meeting with Azazel, I needed this night De. Thank you for always being there.”

“You're my best friend. I'll always be there when you need me even if you make me watch stupid romcoms.” he grinned, “Azazel creating problems again?”

“He never seems to approve of the templates and designs I make no matter how hard I try to make them loveable and on the other hand, the shitty designs made by Abaddon always gets approved.” you groan.

“Why don't you change jobs?”

“I can't. It's not that simple. Life's going good. I don't want to disrupt it by going on a job hunt.” you sighed.

“What if you start working for my company?” You immediately turned your head towards Dean and looked at him with surprise clear in your eyes.

“No.” “Why not?

“I'm a graphic designer, De. I'm not built to work in your company,” you said.

“Be my PA. I really need a personal assistant to help me keep upto date with my schedule and I'm a mess after Charlie left.” Dean said.

“But what is my job criteria? That I'm your best friend? It's like taking advantage of you. I can't do that.”

“What if you work as my PA after being interviewed for the job?” He asked. “Fine, maybe I can give it a shot,” you said.

“Awesome! Meet me in my office on Monday, ten in the morning, sharp. I don't tolerate tardiness.” he said, slipping quickly in the work mode.

“Aye, aye captain.” You giggled, but a deep frown soon appeared on your face.

“What?” “What if it messes up our relationship?”

“It won't. I know how to separate my work life from my personal one,” Dean assured.

“I guess, then it's okay,” you smiled.

“So about your date with Cas. Where's he taking you?”

“I have no idea,” you chuckled, “he said it will be a surprise.”

“That's-that's great but he should know that you hate surprises,” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“He doesn't know me very well. I'll let that pass this one time,” you told Dean.

“Fair enough,” he laughed. You yawned once more, as you tried to fight the drowsiness that was threatening to take over you.

“You want to head back home now or you want to crash here tonight, sleepyhead?” Dean smiled.

“I don't think I can drive all the way in such a state. Do you mind if I crash here?” You grinned, knowing very well he didn't mind because you crashed in his guest rooms on most of the Friday nights. He rolled his eyes as he got up from the couch.

“I'll prepare the guest room.” You sleepily nodded at him. You didn't realise you had fallen asleep but you were soon woken up when you felt your body move.

“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up. I'm taking you to bed,” you found yourself in Dean's arms as he headed towards the guest room with you, “you looked too peaceful sleeping. Go back to sleep.” He softly murmured. Dean gently placed you in the bed, pulling the cover upto your chest as you snuggled into the warmth of the covers. Within a few minutes, you had dozed off.

“Morning, sunshine. Pancakes for you,” Dean's loud voice woke you up from your deep slumber the next morning. You sat up in your bed, as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, the smell of pancakes hitting your nose.

“Breakfast in bed for my girl. Listen I gotta run to the office now,” he said as he handed you the plate of freshly cooked pancakes to you.

“It's Saturday!” You exclaimed.

“I know but Benny wanted to sign the deal with our company today. It's an important one, we can't let that go out of our hands,” he made you understand, “I'll be back within a few hours.”

“Sufe fing. I wif ve here,” you spoke with your mouth full, “Sure thing. I will be here.” You repeated your words after swallowing your food.

“Maggie will drop by. If you want to leave the house before I return, give the keys to her.” He said as he went back into his room to put his suit on.

“Hot damn,” you let out a low whistle as Dean stepped out of the room in his black suit, “Go get the deal, cowboy!” Dean did a full body laugh at your words, throwing his head backwards before he bid you goodbye and walked out of the door leaving you alone in his penthouse. Finishing your breakfast, you got up and got freshened up for the day. You picked up your phone and saw three texts from Cas.

“Meet me at 7.” “At the Season's 52.” “I'm looking forward to this.”

A smile crept onto your face, as you read the texts from him. “I need your help,” you shot a text to Ruby, “I've a date tonight. I don't know what to wear.” You waited for her to text back but instead of getting a text, you got a call from her.

“He finally asked you out?” She screamed from the other side of the phone.

“What do you mean “finally”?” You wondered.

“Oh come on, Y/N. How long have you two known each other?” “Uh-two months.”

“Two-wait, two months? You don't have a date with Dean?” She asked.

“No! Why would you think that?” You exclaimed, “Cas asked me out.”

“Cas? As in Castiel Novak? Dean's friend? And Dean's okay with it?”

“What's with the twenty questions, Ruby?” You said, annoyed at her questions, “And yes. Dean's fine with it. Why wouldn't he be? He is dating Lisa, in case you didn't remember. Now will you help me? I need a dress for tonight.”

Ruby agreed to go on a little shopping spree with you to find the perfect dress. Handing over the keys to Maggie, the housekeeper, you shot a text to Dean letting him know you were leaving his house. You waited for some time but he didn't text you back. You shrugged it off thinking he was probably busy with the meeting. Your whole afternoon was spent with Ruby as you tried to find a good dress for the date. She made you try on what seemed like a hundred dresses of different colours and style until a green bottleneck dress finally caught your eyes.

“This is a beautiful dress! You gotta try it on,” Your friend insisted.

“You sure? Look at the price - it's too expensive,” you pouted.

“Do you want to get laid tonight?” Ruby quirked her eyebrow.

“Yeah-I mean no….maybe,” you stutter.

“That dress - Cas won't be able to take his eyes off you tonight,” she smiled.

“Fine, if you insist.” Needless to say, the dress was a perfect fit but it was all for nothing.

Tapping on the hardwood of the table, you let out a frustrating sigh. Tears pricked at your eyes as you took a sip of the drink.

“Ma'am do you-are you going to-”

“Please bring the check. I'm done here,” you said, barely managing to keep your tears at bay. The waitress nodded and walked away from your table. You dialed up your best friend’s number and waited for him to pick up.

“Dean,” you said, sniffling a little as he picked up his phone after the third ring. “Y/N, you okay?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Can you,” you cleared your throat, “Can you pick me up? I'm at Season’s 52.”

“Sure,” you heard shuffling on the other side, “I'll be there as soon as possible.”

“Okay,” you replied.

“He just didn't show up,” you sniffled as Dean drove yourselves back to his house.

“Maybe-maybe he had his reasons,” Dean said, throwing a worried glance at your way.

“Reasons?” You scoffed.

“Cas is a good man. This is very unlike him,” Dean said.

“Am I-am I not good enough, Dean?” “Y/N, you know that's not true. You're pretty, smart, a little badass - you are a good person with a kind heart,” Dean smiled.

“Then why? Why didn't he show up? He could have left a message. I'm telling you Dean, I'm so over men now. All men are the same,” you looked at him, “except you.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. That is good to hear.”

“I sure do know how to choose,” you grumbled.

“Y/N, it's just one bad date. So what? Cas is not the only man in the whole world. You'll find someone,” Dean said, pulling into his driveway.

“I don't think so. Maybe he was right,” you opened the door of the car to step out.

“Who?”

“Alistair. Maybe he is right. Maybe the problem is me,” you said, tears pooling in your eyes. Dean grabbed your hands and pulled you back into the car.

“No. He is not right. Alistair will never be right. He was an abusive and manipulative son of a bitch. Listen to me, you are not the problem, sweetheart,” he said, “those men just don't understand you.”

“Is that why no one sticks around?” You turned around to face him with wet eyes.

“I did and I will always be there for you,” he said, his hands cupping your face.

“I know, De,” you leaned into his touch as his thumb gently caressed your cheeks. You opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by three harsh taps on the car window. Dean immediately opened the door and stepped out.

“Lisa.” He said.

“Unbelievable, Dean!” Lisa exclaimed. You couldn't see her face but you knew she was furious.

“It's not what it looks like,” Dean whispered.

“You just up and left me in the morning and now when I get back to talk things out, I find you cozying up to her. I'm done with you!” She yelled back. You shrunk back into your seat when you heard her scream. Dean didn't even tell you that he had broken up with her. You wondered why he hid it from you.

“I already said we were over Lisa, just go back home,” Dean said and brought his hand down his face.

“Three years of relationship meant nothing to you! Why?” Lisa shoved Dean, making him stumble back a little.

“I don't owe you an explanation, okay?”

“You cheating asshole-” “I didn't cheat on you, Lisa. I-I'm just not in love with you anymore,” Dean said, making her scoff.

“Have a nice life, asshole!” Lisa said and you heard her retreating footsteps. You stepped out of the car and saw Dean standing against the car, with his face buried in his hands.

“Hey, you okay?” You rubbed his arm gently.

“Yeah. I'm sorry you had to hear that,” he sighed.

“Why didn't you tell me you broke up with her?” You asked.

“It wasn’t important.” “Not important? You let me ramble all the way from the restaurant to your house but not once did you tell me you broke up with her,” you said.

“Y/N, I'm fine. Can we drop this now?” He snapped at you, “I'm sorry.”

“S’okay,” you gave him a sad smile, “I've an idea.”

“Does this idea include booze?” “What do ya think?” “I'm in.”

“What time is it?” You groaned as bright light hit your eyes. The throbbing pain in your head increased as you opened your eyes, trying to focus on the human figure standing in your doorway.

“You got wasted last night, sweetheart,” Dean grinned.

“Stop talking. Just stop talking,” you groaned and nestled deep into your covers.

“Aspirin. You will need these,” he kept the medicine on the nightstand, and walked away, “Breakfast is ready.”

“Morning, how's the hangover?” He gave you a cheeky smile as you walked into the dining room a few minutes later. Dean had his laptop opened in front of him, a cup of coffee beside the electronic device. “You're enjoying this too much, aren't ya? How come you're not hung-over?” You grumbled, “I'm hungry.”

“Here. I made waffles because my heartbroken, hung-over best friend needs her comfort food. Dig in,” he said and pushed a plate of waffles towards you, “I didn't drink much.”

“I thought we were drinking because you had a breakup.” “I told you already I'm not feeling miserable. See there's this girl I like who is not Lisa. I'm thinkin’ of asking her out so I did what I had to do. I ended things with Lisa,” Dean said.

“How come you never told me about this girl?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “‘Cause I wasn't sure how I felt but two days ago I saw her and I just knew that she is the one I want to be with,” he smiled.

“You're such a sap.” You giggled, “she must be very special.”

“She is very special. I have never met a girl like her,” he said, staring at you, “now, eat up.”

“Mhm,” you moaned, taking a bite of the waffles on your plate, “you know, you should give up your business and open up a coffee shop. You make excellent waffles.”

“Sorry sweetheart, no can do. People at work will miss me too much,” he chuckled, “you do remember you are interviewing for the position of PA tomorrow?”

“Yep but I don't know if I will get it or not. I have heard the CEO of the company is kind of a shithead,” you grinned.

“Oh really?” Dean looked at you with amused eyes, “You're terrible.”

“Yeah, so I've heard.” You laughed.

He shook his head at you, “Listen, I have a favour to ask.” “Shoot.”

“I would like it if you could accompany me to Sam and Jess’ anniversary party tonight,” he said.

“Tonight?” “Yeah. I know it's very sudden but it completely sli-”

“I'll go with you but I thought you told me that after what happened with your Dad last time, you wouldn't be attending another family gathering,” you said.

“Uh-huh. Sam insisted that I attend this party,” he replied.

“Fine I'll be there with you at the party to save you from John Winchester,” you giggled.

“You'll be my knight in shining armour tonight.” He chuckled.

You went back to your apartment to get ready for the party. Dean had told you that he would be picking you up at six that evening. As you touched up on your makeup, you heard three knocks on your door.

“Good evening, Y/N,” Dean smirked, looking dapper in a black two-piece suit.

“Good evening, Dean. I'll be out in a minute,” you blushed when you saw his eyes travel all over your body.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“De-” you snaked placed your hand over his, as you both sat inside the Impala with her engine turned off.

“I can't do this Y/N. I can't face John Winchester again, not after the crap he pulled last time,” he gritted out the words, his knuckles turning white as he held the steering wheel tightly, staring off at the direction of his house.

“Why are you here?” He looked at you in surprise. “I-Sam asked me to be here,” he said.

“Exactly. Your little brother asked you to be here so you will go into that house and attend your brother's party. It's up to you if you want to make any small talk, I'll be there with you but Dean you can't avoid your father forever-”

“I'm not avoiding him,” Dean said.

“Yes, you are. Now go in there, ask him why he did that, demand answers from him,” you said.

“I-okay, let's go. Just don't leave my side tonight or someone might get hurt,” he said.

“You're not going to punch your Dad,” you mumbled, “even though he deserves it.” He chuckled at your words as you two stepped out of the car.

“I'll never get used to the fact that you grew up in a mansion,” you smirked.

“It's not a mansion. It's a….big house,” he smiled.

“Yep, whatever you say.” As soon as you stepped through the door of the mansion, Dean was immediately pulled into a hug. “I thought you wouldn't show up,” Sam said, letting go of his brother, “Hey Y/N.”

“Almost didn't,” the older Winchester replied as you gave the younger one a small wave. “He showed up, didn't he? What about Mom?”

“Mom and Dad are in the living room. Last thing I saw they are not speaking to each other even when they are in the same room. I just want everyone to act civil till the party's over,” Sam said, “Drinks are in the kitchen.”

“So kitchen first, living room later. Keep John out of my sight and everything will be perfect,” Dean patted his brother's shoulder and made his way towards the kitchen, taking you with him. Pouring himself a glass, he handed you one.

“Dean,” a deep voice came from the doorway, making Dean stand up straight. “Sam had one job. Dad.” He looked at John and gave him a curt reply.

There was a moment of awkward silence as no words were exchanged between the father and the son. You could feel Dean trying his level best to keep himself from screaming at his Dad. You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

“I know you don't want to see me right now-” “You're right and you may leave now,” Dean said and turned his back towards his father.

“Son. You have to understand, it was a long time back and I didn't know what was going through my head. I-” John sighed.

“You what? You had a perfect family here. A wife, two sons. And all this time, you knew about Adam but you said nothing. You kept up with the charade of the perfect husband and father when in reality you were neither of them,” Dean gritted out.

“Dean. Maybe I was not the perfect husband but I did everything for you and Sam,” the older man said in a harsh tone.

“Really? You did everything? You were nothing but an absent father. I was there to take care of Mom and Sammy while you were away on your so-called business trips when actually you were plowing another woman's field,” Dean growled at his father.

“Dean!” His father snapped back.

“Mr. Winchester you should leave now,” you said, trying to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand, “John, please.”

“This is family matter Y/N. You have no right to get involved in this,” John retorted.

“Don't speak to her like that. She is more family to me than you ever were,” Dean said and stalked towards his Dad, “so you can leave now. I'm sure as hell Mom is not talking to you so you can get the hell out of this house now, John.”

“Dean-” “Now,” Dean growled.

“I would do what he says, John,” you said. John scoffed, turning around and got out of the house. Dean plopped down on one of the chairs in the kitchen, gently rubbing his temples.

“You sure you're okay?” “I need a stronger drink,” he murmured.

“I saw Dad leave. What happened?” Sam came into the kitchen and asked as he looked at his brother.

“I told you to keep John away from me. You had one job,” Dean snapped and stormed out of the room, grabbing a glass of drink with him.

“He just needs some time to cool down. John came to talk to Dean and-”

“Yeah I understood. I'm gonna check on Mom. This party was a mistake,” Sam said and left the kitchen leaving you standing there alone.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you finished up your drink. You were angry at John too. He had hurt Dean, your best friend. He was a liar and you hated liars. You needed to go find Dean. You placed the empty glass on the counter and made your towards the door but you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him.

“Cas,” you said, “I didn't expect you to be here.”

“Yeah well, Sam is a good friend so he invited me over.” Cas gave you a smile.

“Oh.” You nodded.

“We should probably address the elephant in the room,” he gave an awkward laugh.

“Huh? Oh you mean how you stood me up last night?” You glared at him.

“Well you didn't tell me that you were looking for only a one night stand? I would have backed out sooner. I like you Y/N but I don't do one night-”

“Wait, hold on. Who told you I was looking for a one time, no strings attached thing?”

“Dean told me,” your jaw dropped onto the floor at his confession, “I'm sorry Y-”

“S’okay.” You brushed him off, “I need to have a word with Dean, have you seen him?”

“I think he was talking to Kevin over there,” Cas pointed you towards another room.

“Thanks and it's okay, Cas. We're cool.” You said and almost ran your way into the other room.

“I'm telling you man, you deserve someone better than Y/N. She is clingy and she doesn't take no for an answer. I can give you her number but-” Dean turned around and his eyes locked with your wet ones. You shook your head at him, a look of betrayal evident on your face. You heard him call out to you as you turned on your heels and ran towards the door. “Excuse me, Kevin,” Dean said and went after you but by that time you were already out of the house. “Y/N!” He called, as you pulled out your phone to call for an uber.

“Fuck you!” You exclaimed, “I'm clingy, I don't take no for an answer. Is that what you think of me? All this time while you pretended to be my best friend, is this what went through your head?” Tears were running down your face now, “how many times was I there for you when you needed me and this is how you repay me?”

“I didn't mean to say it like that. You are my best friend Y/N-”

“You are a fuckin’ liar! You told Cas that I was looking for a person to keep my bed warm for only one night. Why? You know what, I don't want to talk to you right now. Leave me alone,” you said.

“No, please,” he took a step towards you. “Don't you dare make a move!” You screamed, “You lied to me and I hate liars more than anything. You are no better than your Dad. I hate you! I regret that I ever thought of you as my best friend.” You heard shuffling behind you and turned around to see him leaving. A sob tore from your throat. Standing there alone on the porch of the Winchester mansion, with your smudged makeup, you waited for the uber to show up.

It took you one hour to finally reach your house. Your phone was getting blown up by messages from the Winchester brothers and Ruby. You broke down in tears as soon as you reached your house. You crawled underneath the covers without bothering to get out of your dress or to remove your makeup. Your body shook as you continued to sob loudly into the pillow. The same man, who acted as your rock when you had left Alistair, gave you shelter in his house when you showed up in the middle of the night because your ex-boyfriend was drunk and was on a rampage, was the one who continued to spew lies about you behind your back. Your trust was shattered just like your heart and you didn't know how to piece them back together. The crying had tired you out and in no time you slipped into a deep slumber with Dean's words haunting your dream.

Morning came way too quickly. You woke up to Ruby knocking on your door along with Dean calling your phone. Your eyes were red and swollen as a result of crying all night long.

“What happened? Who's ass do I need to kick?” Ruby barged into your house as soon as you opened the door as saw you had been crying.

“....Dean.” “Dean? Dean Winchester?” Her eyes widened in surprise which later turned to anger when you told her everything that had happened the day before. Ruby was furious and if Dean was there in the room, he would have been a dead man.

“Oh Y/N,” Ruby cooed as she pulled you into a hug, “I didn't know it was this bad. Sam called me to check on you because you left his house in a hurry. I'm gonna kill Dean Winchester.” You held onto her tightly as sobs racked through your body. She gently caressed your head while cursing the green-eyed Winchester.

You were miserable but what you didn't know is that your ex-best friend was also losing his mind over the incident. The guilt was eating him up alive and he didn't know how to fix it. Sam had punched him in the face and kicked him out of his house when he had told him what happened.

“Tell her the truth or don't ever talk to me again,” Sam had threatened his brother. With red eyes and a swollen cheek, Dean went into his office the next morning. He hoped that after the interview he would get a chance to apologise but you never showed up.

“Okay, Mr. Winchester, that was the last interviewee,” Jody poked in her head into the room. “That was the last? What about uh-Y/N L/N?” Dean asked.

“Uh-she dropped out - called us early in the morning to let us know she won't make it to the interview,” Jody smiled, “I need your decision fast.”

“Decision?” “Who we are hiring for the position of the PA,” she said.

“Sure. I'll let you know. You can go now Jody. Close the door on your way out,” Dean said.

He sighed as he dialed your number, “It's Y/N L/N. She can't get to her phone now. Please leave a message.”

“Y/N, sweetheart I'm sorry. You shouldn't have dropped out of the interview. I know you won't ever forgive me but I'm sorry.” You sniffled as you heard his voice message. He had left you exactly fifty-three texts, twenty three missed calls and seventeen voice messages - all had the same words, ‘I'm sorry’ but you couldn't forgive him.

“Stop listening to that asshat,” Ruby grumbled and snatched your phone from you. “I-I just can't understand why he did that? I thought he was my friend,” you sniffled.

“I'm sorry Y/N,” Ruby took a seat beside you and wrapped you in a comforter, “I brought ice cream with me. I heard they work wonders on a broken heart.”

“And you brought my favourite flavour. Thanks!” You hugged but were interrupted by the sound of your doorbell.

“Stay here. Let me check,” Ruby said and went towards the door. Opening it, she stared at a disheveled, sad Dean Winchester.

“Give me one good reason to not kick you out right now,” Ruby glared at Dean.

“I need to talk to her. Please,” Dean’s voice cracked at the end.

“No you won't. She is miserable and I won't let you break her even more,” Ruby challenged, “Now get out.”

“I don't care if I have to fight you but please let me see her,” he pleaded.

“You are one stubborn, lying piece of shit,” Ruby grumbled.

“Why are you here?” the two heads turned immediately towards you.

“I wasn't sure you wanted to see me but I had to see you,” Dean said.

“And why exactly?” Ruby snapped.

“Ruby. It's okay. Let him in. I need to hear him out.” Dean gave Ruby a side eye and let himself in.

“Y/N,” She started. “I'll be fine," you assured her.

“If you need me to kick him out or kick his ass, just call me,” she glared at Dean once more and left your apartment.

“She's scary,” the green-eyed man said. “Well she has to. She just saw her friend with a broken heart,” you threw him his words back.

“I can't tell you how sorry I am,” Dean said, his head hung in shame.

“Why?” He looked up at you, “I don't know,” he replied, making you scoff.

“You don't know? Well maybe because you actually thought of me to be clingy and the girl who doesn't take no for an answer,” you seethed, “and you even lied to Cas about me. You framed me as some whore who doesn't do relationships. Fuck you, Dean! You knew better than anyone how long it took me to get over Alistair. How could you do this to me?”

“I don't know,” he whispered, “It's just I lied to them because I didn't want them to be with you.”

“It's my life! I get to decide who I want to have sex with and who I want to date,” you hissed.

“Well I couldn't let you make those decisions because I didn't want you to choose them. I wanted you to choose me.” he blurted out. You sat there dumbfounded as you heard his confession, "What? Why?"

“Because...I love you,” Dean muttered.

“You love me?” “Yeah.”

“What are you, a kindergartener? Next thing I know you will be pulling my pigtails,” you sassed.

“I'm sorry. You know I'm bad with feelings-” “So you decided to lie?”

“Yeah.” “You're terrible, you know that,” you said.

“So I have heard,” he shrugged. “Come here you idiot,” you beckoned at him. He went towards you and sat down beside you.

“I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was just-” “What? You were just fending off the boys?”

“Yeah. At first I was scared that I was falling for my best friend and you knew me, you knew all my horrible secrets, the thoughts that are inside my head which keep me up at night and I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same. I broke up with Lisa for you because whenever I closed my eyes at night I wanted it to be you with me, not Lisa.” You were stunned at his confession. Dean never talked about his feelings, he was extremely good at hiding his feelings so hearing him blurt out about how he felt, surprised you.

“Dean,” you said. “No. I need to say this,” he said, stopping you, “I don't know if you feel the same. Even if you did, I don't think I have a chance after the stunt I pulled yesterday. But sweetheart, you mean everything to me, I swear to never hurt you again. I was planning on asking you out after the party but Kevin had asked for your number so I told him all those lies about you but sweetheart I know what I did….said is unforgivable but please I need you. I need my best friend back.” He looked at you, locking his teary eyes with yours.

“I don't know whether to kiss you or hit you,” you said, wiping away the single tear that rolled down your cheek. “K-kiss me?” Dean’s eyes went wide.

“You are the most horrible person I have ever met. I hate you, Dean but I hate me more that I decided to fall for this horrible person that I call my best friend. Kiss me, before I change my mind,” you said and that's all Dean needed before he crashed his lips into yours. It was a harsh kiss but one filled with longing and love. His hands sneaked to the back of your head, his fingers entangled with your hair as your hands held on to his biceps.

“I'm sorry for hurting you,” he said after he let go of your lips. You sat there with his hands cupping your face, your foreheads touching. “Next time, talk to me,” you whispered.

“I will,” he kissed your forehead, “So Y/N L/N, can I take you out for dinner tomorrow night?” “Definitely Dean Winchester, but mind you I'm tough to impress,” you smirked.

“I have plans, special plans for a special girl. I will make you mine,” he said before he leaned in to capture your lips with his once again.

#SPN Bi-Weekly Writing Challenge #spndeanbingo challenge round 1 #supernatural #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #spn #supernatural fanfic #au dean #au dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x you #deanxreader #dean winchester fanfic #au dean winchester x reader #dean fanfiction

[ffangirlingsince2001]

Like Her Better

anonymous asked:

HI I was wondering if you could do a geralt x reader where geralt and the reader where basically a thing and they (geralt,them, jaskier) go to a sort of ball where a queen and king has invited them, however yennefer is there and geralt sort of ignores the reader even though geralt promised that if he ever saw yen again he wouldent leave her. And jaskier realises the reader is upset and she sings 'heather by conan gray' and geralt realised what he did and completely regrets it, thanks -🥀🌌

A/N: Thanks for this request, secret muse. It was fun to write and I hope it does your request justice.

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: ANGST

I still remember Third of December Me in your sweater You said it looked better

He promised. He had sworn up and down the whole way there, talking more than even Jaskier as he assured you that no one would pull him away from your side. Not even Yennefer. He kept to his word, keeping you company while Jaskier performed and twirling you around with strong arms when the songs softened. You were halfway through the event when the doors opened, and dramatic as ever Yennefer strutted in. Even the torches seemed to glow a little brighter in her presence.

On me, than it did you Only if you knew How much I liked you But I watch your eyes, as she walks by

You nudged him gently when his eyes followed her around the room, and he smiled apologetically. You asked him if he wanted to say hello and he laughed, proclaiming you were the only one he wanted to talk to. And yet as the night had dragged on, he drifted closer to the corner where Yennefer was staring at him with big violet eyes.

What a sight for sore eyes Brighter than a blue sky She's got you mesmerized While I die

At first, he would wander back to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and squeezing you gently. And then you never seemed able to find him. Your shoulders grew cold and even Jaskier’s little jaunts atop the stage couldn’t seem to make you smile. You slowly melted into he crowds and found yourself a little corner to disappear in. Your eyes searched the crowd, hoping that he was looking for you, pushing through the crowds in an attempt to find you, but there was nothing of the sort. He was nowhere to be found. As his lack of presence grew so did your worry and you considered stepping outside, hoping he was just getting a breath of fresh air. Just as you were about to leave, he stepped into view, the beautiful mage tucked beside him.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty You gave her your sweater It's just polyester, but you like her better Wish I were Heather

Her hand rested on his arm and his coat was draped around her shoulders. And they looked perfect together. They both contrasted one another and still fit together like they had been forged in the same fire, two of a kind. The matching pair that thousands yearned to find.  They had even worn the same color, black, the color of power. You shivered a little and ran your hands over your shoulders, fingers tight as you enviously watched how easily they spoke. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and leaned against him, snuggling a little tighter into his overcoat. He wrapped an arm around her waist, both laughing at something a party guest had said.

Watch as she stands with Her holding your hand Put your arm 'round her shoulder Now I'm getting colder

Tears were welling in your eyes as you watched. Frustration building, curling your toes and clenching your fists. She ran a hand through his hair, and he didn’t bat her away as he often had done to you. You had met her only once before, and she had been haughty, but still kind. She knew what was right, she knew what her role was, and the world had beaten her into submission one too many times. And now you couldn’t even deny her the right to fight so passionately for what she desired. She had done so much for the continent that anyone would have been a fool not to want her, even Geralt who had done just as much as she had. That didn’t change the fact that at this moment you wanted nothing more than to make her disappear forever, of course.

But how could I hate her? She's such an angel But then again, kinda Wish she were dead, as she walks by.

Jaskier approached you as cheerful as ever, a plate in his hand. You caught your reflection there and sighed softly. Even the hours you had spent were nothing compared to the perfectly crafted mage standing at Geralt’s side.

“Are you okay?” he asked nervously, following your red rimmed eyes to the couple across the room. He frowned and pulled you in for a hug. The moment you were wrapped in his arms you allowed yourself to cry, hidden from sight by the colorful embroidery of his shirt. “Hey, hey, he doesn’t deserve you tears,” he cooed and you nodded, wiping away tears.

“It’s just… he promised.” A fresh batch of tears were preparing to appear.

“I know, I know.” You hiccupped as he rubbed your back and you pulled away quickly staring at him confusion.

“Why aren’t you playing anymore?”

“The queen wanted to hear you sing, but if you’re not up for it I will let her know you’re feeling ill.”

“Oh no, give me a minute and I’ll be fine,” you said, quickly wiping your nose and patting at your eyes, doing your best to wipe away any trace of sadness. After a few moments of dapping and straightening you turned towards your friend. “How do I look?”

“Like a woman cowardly men would die for,” he assured you and you smiled, giving him one more hug.

What a sight for sore eyes Brighter than a blue sky She's got you mesmerized While I die

You were led to the stage by a very giddy Jaskier, who informed you he had been bragging about you all night, and curtsied to the queen. She smiled and nodded. You informed Jaskier what tune you wanted, and he nodded in understanding, striking it up quickly. As you began to sing the familiar words, the party’s guests slowed their dancing and gathered around the stage, listening to mournful tune. Even Geralt and Yennefer joined the crowd and you directed your eye contact at the guilty Witcher. You even offered Yennefer a glance and was met only with admiration for the singing. She had the audacity to not even know what was going on.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty You gave her your sweater It's just polyester, but you like her better I wish I were Heather

The song ended and you dropped into a curtsy as the guests applauded. Tears had built up during the song but you refused to let them fall, especially in front of the man who had caused them. It didn’t matter though, he knew the look in your eyes, and the regret that filled his did nothing to qualm the sadness that he had caused. You allowed Jaskier to escort you to the queen’s table and listened numbly as they showered you with praise, pondering allowed about the man who had caused such a song to be written. When they questioned you, you merely shrugged and smiled slyly.

“I wouldn’t want you to hunt him down,” you responded and they all laughed, proclaiming that if you sang like that you would be welcome at every party that was hosted within the palace walls. You thanked them and silently pleaded with Jaskier to take you away. He politely dismissed you both and led you to the corner, helping you into your own coat for the first time in years. You hugged him again and caught sight of Geralt coming towards, the apologies already tumbling out of his lips, but you had had enough. You didn’t want to hear it, you had been hearing it for too long, and now all you wanted to do was go home. Silently you slipped out the door and into the cold night, trying to forget how his warmth felt on night’s like these.

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia angst #geralt of rivia smut #the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher smut #the witcher fluff #the witcher angst #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction

[bangtaninink]

“it’s never a bad time to watch 'shrek’!” + joon (i dont have an au for this bc theres never a specific instance for shrek. watching shrek is good all the time)

DRABBLE NUMBER......... 006 MEMBER............................ kim namjoon (rm) AU......................................... police

"_____, i count two behind you," namjoon's voice comes through your earpiece. "watch your six."

"got it," you reply, voice low, keeping your grip tight on your pistol as you round the corner, pressing your back against the wall and listening for approaching footsteps.

"they're about five steps behind you."

you nod, despite not being able to see namjoon directly. the footsteps grow louder, and you count one, two, three, four...

you quickly turn over the corner of the wall, arm extended to fire a bullet into the shoulder of each of the men following behind you, impact knocking them back. another bullet each shoots the guns from their hands, and you run, gun pointed at the them.

"don't even think about moving, you two," you say, boot coming down onto one man's chest to keep him still. "seoul metro police. you're both under arrest."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"man, i hate to say it, but that was kinda badass," hoseok says, grinning as he approaches you and namjoon. "good job, you two."

"thanks," you say, chuckling as you pull the velcro strip keeping your vest shut.

"i hardly think i can take any of the credit," namjoon says, leaning against the patrol car. "considering i was just surveillance today."

"i know," hoseok says, already walking off. "i was just trying to be nice. _____ definitely did all the work."

"_____. namjoon."

the both of you turn to see yoongi approaching, arms tucked into the pockets of his coat, plumes of smoke slipping from the top of the thick scarf wrapped around his neck.

"congratulations," he says, corners of his lips just slightly lifted in something that looks like a smile. "i see your crazy plan paid off in the end, _____."

"ah, well. you know me, captain. i'm a big fan of the unconventional," you reply, shrugging.

"and i'm sure i'll have your report for this case on my desk first thing tomorrow."

"sure you will. namjoon will make sure of it. right, joon?"

"ah, well. you know me. i love a good written report hours after completing a raid," namjoon says, shrugging too.

"i feel like i should be concerned that you're being genuine about that, but it saves me a lot of time, so i'm gonna move on from that," yoongi says, expression hardly shifting. "clean yourselves up, and then you're dismissed for the day."

you and namjoon nod, watching as yoongi walks off, laughing quietly to yourselves when hoseok visibly tenses and straightens up when he spots the captain coming his way.

"hey," namjoon says, nudging your shoulder. "wanna come back to my place, order some takeout and just hang out? i think we deserve a chill night."

"sounds perfect," you say.

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"behold! one of the greatest movies of all time!"

you look up from your chinese takeout, chopsticks halfway to your lips, at the screen of namjoon's tv.

"you're kidding, right?" you say, eating a mouthful of noodles.

"this is a classic," namjoon says, sitting down on the sofa next to you, reaching for his container of sweet and sour pork.

"we just took down the second biggest drug cartel in the city -- maybe the country -- and you wanna celebrate that by watching 'shrek'? sounds bad."

"it's never a bad time to watch 'shrek'! it's fun for the whole family, has an original plotline, and ends with an iconic musical number."

"namjoon, as your partner, i feel like i have a responsibility to tell you when you're being weird, so i'm gonna go ahead and say it: you're being really fuckin' weird," you say, sighing and chuckling as you shake your head, watching the opening scene fade in from black.

"i would watch this in our car if i could. or at my desk. maybe i'll watch this again tomorrow morning when i write up our report," he says, turning up the volume.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"you're literally missing the best part right now," namjoon says quietly. he doesn't look away from the screen, watching animated robin hood swing from branch to branch as he sings, eyes wide, the corners of his lips slightly raised in a small smile. "'monsieur hood'! hah. so good."

he mouths along to the dialogue, completely engrossed in the movie; until, that is, he feels a weight on his arm all of a sudden.

namjoon turns and looks down to see you leaning up against him, eyes shut, lips slightly parted, soft, equal breaths clearing showing you're asleep.

"really?" he scoffs quietly. "you're gonna fall asleep in the middle of 'shrek'? how disrespectful..."

his words trail off, because the longer he looks at you, the more he realises that maybe there's more to you than being his hot-headed partner, who drinks a minimum of three large coffees a day, and smokes a couple cigarettes at every lunch break. it's strange to see you so... calm, so relaxed and peaceful.

his eyes fall to the small bandaid stuck above your eyebrow from where a piece of glass had cut you earlier, confused as to why he suddenly feels so worried about how the scar will heal, or if the raid you both pulled off tonight might somehow come back to haunt you in the future. namjoon feels a small flutter in his chest at the thought that maybe you'll have trouble sleeping at night because of this case -- or any of your other cases later on -- and maybe, just maybe, he should do a better job at looking out for you, the way you seem to do for him all the time without him realising.

"mmm... do you know the muffin man?" you suddenly mutter in your sleep, turning to hide your face in his arm. "'cause i do, you son of a bitch."

it takes every ounce of willpower for namjoon not to laugh.

#kim namjoon #rm #bts #bangtan #bts scenarios #bts drabble #police!au #now i wanna watch shrek...................