#admittedly i do walk around holding hands with one of my friends sometimes but that's just cause she likes holding hands with literally eve

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 1

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

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

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

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

You stand behind the counter, ready to serve the next customer that comes through the door. If you thought the rush was bad, the lulls are worse. The time drags by as the clock seems to taunt you. You sigh again as you hear Bre clattering around in the back room. You’d rather be back there folding up empty boxes and scouring trays.

You yawn and waver on your feet. The small local cafe doesn’t have the consistent traffic of the franchised kiosk just down the block but there are still hectic rushes. The mornings just after nine, then at noon when the office workers run out for a refresh espresso or a lunchtime sweet, but the afternoons usually deliver no more than the errant college student on their laptop or a few friends in between visits to boutiques.

The door opens and you glance over at the man who walks through the door. He strikes you as out-of-place as he struts across the cafe, hitting a table with his thigh, and sneering at it as if it insulted his mother. He’s tall with broad shoulders, and his hair is slicked back while the sides of his head are buzzed. He wears a black turtle neck under and open jacket and a pair of matching slacks that show off his ankles. His loafers are a rippling grey and black snakeskin print with a shining silver buckle.

You grip the sides of the till as he approaches but he doesn’t look at you. You stare, a little put off by his lack of acknowledgement as he peers up at the menu. He steps forward, tapping his fingers on the counter as he blows out between his lips. A golden signet ring flashes on his pinkie. You’re still not sure he’s in the right place.

“Hello, sir, can I get you--”

“Shh,” he hisses and holds up his finger. You snap your mouth shut and blink. He squints at the menu. He hums, clucking as he gives a thoughtful look to the hand-painted letters. Alright?

You wiggle your foot impatiently, biting your tongue. You’re not an inherently rude person but some customers make you wish you were. You watch him and he finally lowers his chin.

“Oat latte. Half blonde espresso, half regular, with the toffee nut syrup and a sprinkle of cinnamon.”

You nod as you punch in his order. It’s quite the drink. Sometimes you think people just pile on to see how far they can push service workers. They can’t just have a simple drink. Some even request the temperature to the digit.

“Alright, got it, it’s fifty cents for the syrup, is that okay?”

“Fifty cents?” He echoes haughtily, “no, that’s not okay.”

“Um, okay, well, it’s uh, on the menu,” you crane to look behind you, “fifty cents for a flavour shot, twenty-five for whipped cream.”

“I didn’t ask about goddamn whipped cream. They don't charge me here, doll. Get me the goddamn drink,” he demands.

You reel. Admittedly, you’re new. You’re learning but your first lesson was simple; customers are awful.

“I can just take the syrup off, I guess,” you hit the x and the whole order disappears.

“Didn’t you hear me? No charge, honey. It’s on the house.”

You purse your lips and look at him. You raise a brow. Alright, this is a new one.

“Um, if you’d just hold on, I think... uh, I should ask--”

“Yeah, you better fucking ask,” he sneers as swipes at a stack of paper cups and sends them flying. You flinch out of the way and spin to burst through the door to the kitchen.

“Uh, Bre,” you say, “there’s a really angry dude out there and he wants a free latte so uh, what do I do about that?”

She looks over at you as she puts a tray of cookies on a cooling rack. She frowns and her forehead stitches. She pulls of her oven mitt and checks her fitbit.

“Shit, it’s Thursday,” she mutters as if it’s the end of time.

“Yeah, it is, so uh--”

She waves away your words with the mitt and tosses both on the counter as she hurries past you. Confused, you turn to follow her through the swinging door. You stay behind her as she goes to the till.

“Mr. Hansen, so lovely to see you, what were we getting today?” She chimes, more lively than you’ve ever heard you. At any other time, she’s dulcet, almost monotone, completely over the cafe lifestyle.

He scoffs and his eyes drift from her to you. He pokes his tongue into his cheek, “oat, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” he notes each element tersely, “and how about you teach this one some goddamn manners.”

He glares at you and you give a wide-eyed look. You shrug at Bre as she glances over at you. She shakes her head subtly. You take a step back.

You grab a cup and she quickly takes it out of your hands, “I got it, stay out of the way.”

You put your hands up and back away. You don’t know what you did wrong. Who is this man? He smirks and hovers on the other side of the counter as he crosses his arms over his puffed chest. Bre brews a fresh espresso and steams the oat milk.

“I’m waiting, sweet lips,” he cups a hand to his ear, his other arm still over his chest.

You look back and forth.

“Apologise,” he demands.

Bre clears her throat and you glance over, your mouth falling open dumbly.

“Oh, uh,” you face the man again, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know--”

“Well, now you fucking do,” he sneers as Bre places a cup down before him and a paper bag.

“Mr. Hansen, there’s a cinnamon bun for you too. We just took em out of the oven.”

“You’re such a dear, Bre Bear,” he cooes, sending you a venomous snarl.

You cringe as he spins and strides out with his fare. You watch after him, still thoroughly perplexed. Bre wipes the counter with a cloth.

“The next time he comes in, give him whatever he wants,” she says quietly.

“Oh, I didn’t... who is he?” You garble.

“Better you don’t know. Just think of him as the boss,” she sends you a desperate look, her eyes gleaming, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll smile and listen.”

She brushes you with her shoulder as she goes back into the kitchen. You furrow your brow and glance towards the door. The man’s just outside the windowed walls, watching you. He winks before he disappears beyond the next facade

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #series #drabble #the man #mob!au #au

[talesofesther]

you're all I want love to be

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Tara is still afraid to allow people close, to allow herself to trust again. Until she finds someone who makes it easier.

A/N: The idea for this was also given to me by my dear @iamnicodemus. Hope y'all like it. Tara, I love u. <3

Masterlist

Tara never meant for it to happen.

It was actually the one thing she wanted the least. Catching feelings for someone only opens up more opportunities for her to get hurt.

And yet it happened so easily, so subtly, that she only realized it when the damage was already done.

She found you on her first day at the university. When she was admittedly very lost; backpack hanging from one shoulder, fifteen minutes late for her class, and walking in the opposite direction of it. You were the only person she'd bumped into when going past Blackmore's cafeteria, and after a bit of an internal pep talk, Tara walked up to you.

And if kindness could be a person, it would be you. Instead of just taking her to class, you gave Tara a simple tour of the university, promising to be around if she ever needed anything else.

Tara started noticing you on every corner of the campus after that. She didn't take you up on your offer though, choosing instead to keep her distance. Still, you always had a smile reserved for her at times you'd catch her staring. That didn't change when the rumors about her and Sam started, if anything, you became more approachable than before.

But it was only after an unfortunate incident, that Tara actually started hanging out with you;

October had started four days ago, and with it, the Halloween season. Parties were already being scheduled every other weekend and sometimes on weekdays as well.

Tara was walking towards her class, her head in the clouds while she thought about what costume she would wear if she were to go to one of those parties.

She was usually one to be early for class now that she had her paths memorized, preferring the calmness of the minutes before everyone started rushing to arrive on time.

So she wasn't exactly expecting what happened next.

As Tara rounded a corner, she was surprised to come face to face with two other students; one of them adorning a black hoodie and a cheap Ghostface mask. The 'boo' that left his lips was as childish as it could be, but the abruptness of the encounter got Tara stumbling on her own feet as she took several steps back, eyes wide and her body momentarily entering fight or flight mode.

"What's wrong, Carpenter?" The guy in the mask said in a mocking tone, his friend joining in on the laughter, "thought I was your sister?"

Tara's voice was tangled up in her throat, she couldn't remember if she packed her inhaler this morning, or was it her taser that she forgot?

If unkind memories weren't flashing behind her eyes, Tara would have recognized the two idiots in front of her; the boys who came here to do anything but study, taking getting on people's nerves as a hobby.

It was only when the back of their heads was hit — quite forcefully — with a book, that they stopped laughing. The cheap mask fell to the ground with the hit, gaining a crack on its edge.

"Don't you guys have anything better to do?" You came from behind them, tucking the book back in your backpack, "fuck off before I tell the director what you've been doing out in the parking lot when you think no one's watching."

With a few complaints under their breath, they eventually walked away, allowing Tara to let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Morons," you huffed, tugging on the straps of your backpack before turning around to Tara, your gaze softening immediately, "you okay?"

Her dark eyes found yours. She simply nodded, feeling her lower lip quivering when she tried to speak. She noticed the way your hand twitched to reach out to her but you stopped yourself midway, instead tucking both hands in your pockets.

"I'm sorry about them," you told her with the usual gentleness you never lacked, "they should know better than to do that."

Tara shook her head softly, managing a smile when her heartbeat started to settle, "thank you for… stepping in."

You just shrugged, your smile coming as a copy of hers, and it got Tara wondering if it could hold the same sentiment too.

"Anytime," you told her then, and Tara hardly left your side after it.

It was easy to fall into the routine of having you near and pretending she was just a normal girl with a crush on her friend. Being with you was so easy that it made Tara forget about all the bad, forget about all the reasons why allowing people close became dangerous.

And today? Today should be a good day, it's a day Tara has been looking forward to, a day that took away her sleep for all the good reasons. And it's not like she never stopped to get coffee with you on the way to campus, but today felt different because you had asked her to, as a date.

And Tara had been counting the seconds for it; until Ghostface came back and nearly killed her and Sam at that grocery store, until Mindy said 'never trust the love interest', until her worst nightmares came back again and suddenly nothing was easy anymore.

"Alright guys, as much as I love discussing possible suspects with you," Chad pushed himself off the bench he'd been sitting on, "we've still got classes to go to, come on Ethan." The two boys gathered their things and walked away, Quinn soon following behind.

Tara slumped back in her seat, her hands coming up to cover her eyes. With her sight momentarily gone, it felt like everything else was louder, heavier; she could perfectly hear the rustling of leaves from the trees around, the cacophony of voices from all the other students hanging out outside, and feel the weight of Sam's gaze on her.

"I think someone's looking for you, lovergirl," Mindy said out of nowhere, kicking Tara's sneaker with her own. When Tara glanced up at her friend with a frown, all Mindy did was tilt her head towards the university, where you had just walked out from and were now making your way to them.

"Don't think I haven't noticed," Mindy teased with a sing-song voice and a grin plastered on her lips.

"Noticed what?" Sam sat up straighter, her gaze shifting from Tara to Mindy.

"Tara's girlfr-"

"Nothing," Tara interrupted quickly, getting up so she could land a gentle punch to Mindy's shoulder, "nothing to notice," she said again, pointedly.

"Alright, let's go, Sam," Mindy extended a hand for the older girl, "we'll meet back at the dorm later."

Sam still had a confused frown on her features but she took the hand offered to her anyway, while Mindy leaned closer to Tara so she could whisper; "always knew you had good taste," before both of them walked again.

Tara's cheeks went aflame as she let out a groan, predicting the onslaught of questions she'd get later today. She slowly turned around to meet you in the middle, her soul naturally filling with incessant butterflies.

Had she really been that unsubtle when regarding you?

"Hey," you greeted her a little breathlessly, letting go of your backpack and leaving it on the floor as you took a small extra step closer to Tara, your eyes frantically looking her over, "I was so worried when I saw what happened last night, are you-"

"I'm okay," it was instinct, but Tara didn't know if the words were true. There was something about you that always made her feel more than she wanted to, she suddenly felt like the last pieces of herself she'd been trying to hold together so hard over the last months started crumbling. Tara took hold of your hands, squeezing tightly. She didn't know who she was trying to comfort, you or herself.

You held her back, glancing down as your fingers intertwined with hers. Tara observed the way your lashes kissed the corner of your cheeks; you were all golden softness and spring warmth, presence rivaling the one of a welcoming sun on a cold day. Tara wanted to memorize that, keep it in her heart as if it was the first and last time she'd be seeing you.

It should be easy to forget and pretend, but it suddenly wasn't, because Mindy's words kept ringing inside Tara's head even if she didn't want them to be true. She felt tears steadily collecting on the bottom lid of her eyes.

"But," she closed her eyes at the unsteadiness of her own voice. More than anything, she wanted this, wanted you. But she was stuck. It felt like quicksand, pulling her further down the more she struggled to get out. "about today…"

It's like you knew her better than she knew herself sometimes, maybe for you, it still felt easy. "It's alright, Tara." Your thumb brushed over the scar on top of her hand, "we don't have to go, I understand."

Tara pursed her lips, blinking away her vulnerability. She let go of your hands only to loop her arm around yours and bring your bodies closer together, "walk me to class, though?"

—

"Come on, spill it, what's up between you two?" Mindy leaned back on the kitchen counter beside Tara, "I was joking earlier today, but now I actually think there's something there."

The carrot Tara was cutting ended up with a slice too big, she had to turn it around and cut it one more time in the middle, "I've told you, there's nothing going on," Tara told her friend with a sigh, making sure to cut smaller slices so she could keep her hands busy as long as possible; "she's my friend."

Mindy scoffed, she picked up a spoon from the sink and tasted whatever Chad was cooking up on the stove. A grimace came to her face at the lack of seasoning, "I've heard that before."

"It's not like that," Tara dropped the knife then, unsure what she was frustrated about or what she wanted to convince Mindy of, "how can I get… involved with someone after what happened?" Her voice grew quieter by the end.

Mindy softened at that, she turned to face Tara fully — everyone knew the younger Carpenter was still struggling with what she'd been through, even if she didn't want to admit it. "I know it's not easy, T. But you can't close yourself off for everyone, some people are still worth it," Mindy glanced towards the living room, a soft smile on her lips when Anika's silhouette came into view, "people aren't meant to be islands."

—

There are times when the pain is so big, that it almost doesn't feel like pain anymore. If it comes from a wound, that's usually the time when you'll pass out. If it comes from inside, you start to feel numb.

Sitting at the back of an ambulance as she watches cops walking out with another one of her friends in a dark body bag, Tara thinks she's close to that feeling. Mindy is sitting beside her, she's not moving. Tara doesn't know what to say in moments like these, they feel almost awkward. A morbid kind of awkward.

So when she gets up, cell phone in hand with your number already ringing, she blames it on that; on the pain squeezing her chest almost to the point of unbearable, on the helplessness she feels twirling in her gut.

Tara paced back and forth on the sidewalk, trying to draw out the noise of the sirens as she counted up the seconds until you picked up.

… Two, three, four.

Tara could hear her own heart rate quicken, she closed her eyes, thinking about how her inhaler was still all the way up in the apartment; where there's blood, and-

Please, pick up. Please, pick up.

"Hello?"

A long sigh of relief left Tara's lips as soon as she heard your voice through the phone. As if she hadn't cried enough, she could see tears clouding her sight.

"Tara? What happened, is everything okay?"

"No, it's not," Tara forced out, her voice tight with a sudden rawness. She turned her back to Mindy so the girl wouldn't see her crying, "there was another attack… Anika didn't make it."

"Oh god, I can't-" Tara could hear you choking on your own voice, "are you okay? Please tell me you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm-" Tears made a steady path down to Tara's chin, some getting caught under the phone pressed tightly to her cheek, "I'm alright."

"Tell me where you are, I can be there in like ten- five minutes."

"No!" Tara said with urgency, "don't come here, please, I don't want you anywhere near this," she gulped back a lump in her throat, "it's too dangerous."

"But what about you?"

"I'll be okay," Tara closed her eyes, wishing the words really were true, "I just-" she hesitated, a confession lingering on her tongue, "I just wanted to hear your voice, is all." She bit onto her lower lip until it drew blood.

"We- we can talk for as long as you need," it was like Tara could hear your smile, "I'm happy to hear your voice too."

—

Ambulance lights and police sirens were clouding your senses as you run up to the commotion. It was quite a sight; your oversized shirt, shorts, and sneakers with mismatched high socks. But you couldn't remember to care because your heart had been at your throat ever since Mindy called.

There were several reporters blocking your view but you squeezed your way through them until you reached the police tape. You've always hated this; the white and red colors of the vehicles that only showed up in tragedies, the panic and grief that lay heavy in the air, the clicks of the cameras from people who saw it as an opportunity — you hated it all, but right now the only one on your mind is Tara.

You ducked to go under the police tape, immediately attracting the attention of one of the cops, "Miss, you can't be here, please go back behind-"

"No, you don't understand," you gripped at the fabric of his jacket when he tried to keep you back, trying to push through, "I know them."

And the cop kept speaking, probably about things you weren't allowed to do and places you shouldn't be. You didn't hear any of it, because you found her. Her blue shirt had more red than blue in it, dried blood was all over the fabric, making you feel a mix between relief and nauseousness; her hair was messy, tangled, and damp in some places; her skin still coated with bits of dirt and blood too; her arm was held up by a makeshift bandage. But she was there, talking to a blonde woman on a stretcher; she was alive.

"Tara," you called quietly as your sight blurred over, and then a little louder, "Tara!"

She looked up, any words she'd been saying dying on her lips when she saw you. For a beat, it seemed as if she was assessing if you were real or not, before she was all but running towards you.

Not caring for consequences, you pushed the cop off of you and met her halfway — lucky for you he apparently noticed you really knew them.

"What are you doing here?" Tara's eyes were glinting under the red and blue lights, there were clear tracks on her cheeks where tears had run down.

"I was-" you tried, stumbling over your words as you took her in, all blood stains and bruises. You raised a hand to push back her fringe, the strands of hair were damp to the touch; from sweat or blood, you didn't want to know. "Mindy called, and scared the shit out of me. I came as fast as I could."

With her lower lip stuck between her teeth, Tara leaned into your touch. Her eyes closed tightly when your thumb traced the outline of her eyebrow.

"Are you okay? I mean of course you're not okay, what am I even-"

You were cut off when Tara threw herself at you. She pulled you close with her free hand, nails almost digging into your skin with the force of it as she buried her head on your shoulder.

Quiet sobs shook her body and you held her back the best you could whilst being mindful of her injuries. One of your hands cradled her head, fingers tangled in her dark hair as you breathed in everything that was her. "Shit, I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

Tara only pushed herself into you more as you spoke. There was a beat, a moment of hesitance from someone who'd had the bitter taste of betrayal more than anyone should. Trust was a gamble, but when you had a place in her heart no one else could ever have, Tara knew you'd never break it. "I'm okay now," she spoke against you; and she believed it.

You only squeezed her tighter, pulling back just enough to land a kiss on her temple. And you allowed your lips to linger, to feel her skin against you and her heartbeat pressed to your own.

Tara melted in your hold, allowing you to support most of her weight. With her cheek pressed to your collarbone, she spoke; "you still owe me a date."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Tara’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @alexkolax

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter #scream #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #taracarpenteredit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #tara carpenter fanfic #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #my story

[embrosegraves]

𝕊𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝔹𝕠𝕪

Paul Aron x Fem!Reader Paul is sometimes shy about asking to touch you. He just wants to make sure he never assumes consent.

Warning: One (1) word in Estonian idk I tried. Mentions (and innocent touching) of boobies *gasp*

1.1k words hihihi

“Kallis?” [Sweetheart?]

You lifted your head from the class notes in front of you to see your boyfriend, Paul, standing at the door of your home office. He looked nervous, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be in the room. 

“Paul? Did you need something?” You hoped that softening your voice would help him not be as nervous. Having been dating for just over half a year, you were quickly becoming aware of some of his ‘tells’. Things like how his nostrils would flare a little if he wanted to laugh but thought it’d be inappropriate. Or how he would be extra nervous when he wanted to ask you something because he didn’t want to worry you with things while you were doing your coursework for uni. 

“I uh, I can come back later if you’re busy. It wasn’t really important.” Paul stammered a little as he answered you. It intrigued you immensely when Paul got shy, because it was such a difference to his very outgoing personality when he’s around his friends and teammates. 

“Please tell me what’s wrong? I promise you’re not disturbing or interrupting me.” You held your hand out towards him, inviting him to walk further into the room. He was careful as he walked towards you, like he didn’t want to disturb the research papers you had on the desk. You stood up as he reached you and lifted a hand to caress his face. 

“What did you need of me, My Love?” You kept your voice soft and your touch gentle. 

Paul lifted a hand and gripped your hand that was cradling his face. “I just- I really missed you.” 

A smile found its way onto your face. You finally realised that he was nervous because he wanted to be around you but didn’t want to distract you from your studies. Gently, you guided him to sit in the chair you were just in. Paul tried to protest that it was your chair and that he could find another one to sit on but you were having none of it. You sat down on his lap and told him that this way you could get some of your work done while still being around him. He settled pretty quickly after that. 

Admittedly it did take you a while to notice that Paul hadn’t moved his arms from the armrests of your chair,. So when you did notice, you were just a little confused. 

“Are you alright Darling?” You asked over your shoulder. 

“Uh huh.” He replied. 

“Are you sure? Because you haven’t moved your arms from the chair once.” You turned as much as you could to look at him face to face. His face was flushed a light pink colour as you twisted around on his lap. 

“I just wasn’t sure if you wanted me to touch you.” 

“Why would you think that?” You watched as his face slowly became more and more red. 

“I don’t think you ever said if you were okay with it and I didn't want to just assume that it would be alright to.” He moved his eyes away from yours. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

Barely stopping yourself from cooing at his adorably red cheeks, you twisted back around and leant back so you were resting on his torso. Grabbing both of his hands, you moved them to hug you around your midriff. Adjusting your head to look at his face, you whispered and peppered kisses to the underside of his jaw. 

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to be uncomfortable when you touch me. You're always so careful and gentle. If anything I want you to touch me more.” 

“But what if I accidentally overstep?” 

“I will tell you. But for now I want you to do something for me.” 

“Anything.” He left a shy, barely-even-there kiss behind your ear. 

“I want you to hold my boobs.” 

Paul was stunned into silence. Had he heard you correctly? You wanted him to do what? 

“You- Me- What?” He couldn’t get the words to exit his mouth. 

“I want you to hold my boobs. For two reasons. One, to prove that I trust you to touch me and be more casually intimate, and two, because believe it or not I actually find it very comforting. However, I need both my hands to finish typing up my class notes, which means I can’t hold them myself.” You placed a kiss on his jawline before sitting up a little so you could finish typing your notes. You felt as Paul also sat up a bit, presumably to keep the contact between your back and his chest. 

Just before you were about to set in and start on finishing your notes, Paul’s hands began playing with the hem of your shirt. 

“Can I lift it Kallis?” He whispered. 

“Of course you can My Love. You can do whatever you need, to make it easier if you’d like.” 

“Thank you.” He said, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck and leaving little feather-light kisses. His hands moved underneath your shirt and shyly travelled up your body before resting briefly at the apex of your breasts. Seeing as you had given him verbal permission, Paul decided he could easier grab hold of your breasts without your bra in the way. 

You hummed in acknowledgement when he mumbled that he was going to unhook the offending item of your clothing, focusing as much as you could on your notes. You knew that as much as the skin on skin contact was comforting for you, it was also incredibly important for Paul because it allowed him to test how far he was willing to go. He could set the pace knowing that if he accidentally took it too far, he could rely on you to tell him when to stop. 

You sat there on his lap for roughly 2 hours, Paul’s chin resting on your shoulder. Every now and then, Paul would give your breasts a gentle squeeze, making sure not to be too harsh. Occasionally, when you finished a paragraph of notes, you would give Paul a peck on the nose, his smile making your own smile grow with each kiss.  

Neither you nor Paul moved once you were done, except to lean a bit further back in the chair to be a little more comfortable. You were far too engrossed with the feeling of each other to even briefly entertain the idea of moving from where you sat. Too wrapped up in the love you had for each other. 

It was Paul who eventually whispered to you, breaking the silence. 

“Can I do this again tomorrow?” 

You huffed out a tiny laugh, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair as best you could. 

“Oh my sweet boy, you don’t even have to ask.”

I call this ✨ divine inspiration ✨

Aka the collective hivemind that is the discord server coming together to give the strength and inspiration to FINALLY advertise just how much I love Paul Aron.

anyways, started writing this at the end of F2 Quali, finished it at the end of F1 Academy Quali. Decided to gift while I was still delirious from lack of sleep (Aussie F1 fan struggles lmao)

likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

#formula 2 x you #f2 x reader #f2 fluff #formula 2 #formula two #paul aron #f2 #paul aron x reader #paul aron x you #paul aron fic #paul aron imagine #paul aron fluff #paul aron fanfiction #me and the discord love the fuck outta this man <3 he's our pookie bear 🫶

[hotnbloodied]

Yan!Scaramouche (Wanderer) X Reader

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

Setting: You are a young researcher who thought Scaramouche was super cool and knowledgeable when you first laid eyes on him, surely you can be friends with him right?

TW: Unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship, obsession, dub-con kissing

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!!

He might not have stood out to other people during the Akademiya Extravaganza regardless though, people knew him around the Akademiya for his vast knowledge and the extravaganza was where you first learned about his existence. You were a young researcher yourself from the Vahumana Darshan so you looked up to him. You really wanted to get to know your senior a bit more so you asked around trying to see if you could meet him.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Wanderer who confronts you one day. “What do you want?” He says in a slightly annoyed tone, “you’re going around causing a ruckus.” “I’m sorry! I just really wanted to meet you, you were so cool during the Akademiya Extravaganza that I just couldn’t help but want to meet you in person!” “Hmph, well, here I am.”

The two of you met up more and more as you loved hearing him talk about his vast knowledge, admittedly though his gloating sometimes was a bit much even for you. You started packing lunches for him as a form of thanks for him helping you with your research which he responded by saying it was ‘unnecessary’ only to leave a clean box each time. This went on for months and when your research paper was finally completed you celebrated by inviting him out to eat at a restaurant. “It was thanks to you that I was finally able to publish my paper!” “Hmph, it was nothing. Even an ant could have done it.” You laughed at his harsh tone, “I’ll be out of your hair now, let’s toast to a research well done!” He didn’t respond to that only to look pissed throughout the rest of dinner.

The next day he expected you to knock on his door again just like you’ve been doing for months but you never showed up. In fact for the next two weeks he didn’t see a hair nor shadow from you. It drove him almost insane to the point when he saw another researcher he knew he'd seen you giggling and conversing with before, he had to hold back on taking out his frustrations on them. “Hey you,” he called out to them. “Huh? Yes?” “Where is [y/n]?” “Didn’t you hear? Rumors say that they were called home to attend a marriage meeting.”

Scaramouche turned and walked away from the confused researcher. Marriage meeting? Then what were all those times when you praised him, when you brought him lunches, when you asked him about his day? Where they all lies? How dare you lead him on? The more he thought the more he fell to his delusions. Little did he know it wasn’t a marriage meeting, in fact it was only due to you being invited to attend your cousin’s wedding. By the time you were back in Sumeru city you missed being around the hustle and bustle. But since entering the city again you felt this nagging feeling of being watched which you brushed off as just being tired from the trip.

Right after you returned to your quaint little apartment someone immediately knocked on the door, much to your confusion. You were face to face with Scaramouche. “What are you–” before you could continue he pushed you to the ground, hand over your mouth as a strange wind shut the door behind him. Panic quickly made blood rush to your head as you looked up only to be met not with the usual smug aloof expression but one of devastation as tears flowed freely from his eyes. “Why did you leave me?!” “Huh…?” “If you were going to leave me in the end, why did you treat me like I was special?!” “Scara–”

Lips crashed with yours and sucking with such force that you thought he was trying to suck the soul out of you, it got to the point where your head felt tingly from not being able to breath well. After the intense make out session he clung to your body and wouldn’t let go. “It doesn’t matter where you go from now on…I will never leave your side.”

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin x gender neutral reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x y/n #yandere genshin x gender neutral reader #yandere genshin #genshin yandere #lovesick #yandere #yandere male #obsessive yandere #obsessive love #obsession #scaramouche #scara x reader #wanderer #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche genshin impact #genshin wanderer #wanderer genshin #genshin impact scaramouche

[winniethewife]

It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)

Chapter 1: Then, it's the best feeling I've even known

Words: 1282

Warning: sex mentioned not described.

Three months ago when my best friend, and childhood crush, Layla El-Faouly reached out asking if I would like to possibly be in a threesome with her and her Husband Marc I was surprised. One they never seemed the type for Non-Monogamy, and Two I was pretty sure Layla was over her Bi-curious phase a long time ago. It was a pretty amazing night. I was pretty sure I would never have sex that good again, but I was very wrong. I have sex like that all the time. About a week after that night they had invited me over again, this time, I found out a lot more. About Marc’s DID, About Steven and Jake, about Moon-knight, and their adventures around the world. I felt like I could probably take that all into stride as their friend, then came the next surprise.

They asked me out.

They wanted me to be in a relationship with them, all of them. I had felt like my heart stopped that second. It took me sometime to process it and decide.

It had been a long day at work, I had just managed to get in the door and get out of my work clothes when there was a knock at the door. I went to take a look though my peephole It was Marc. I opened the door with a half smile on my face.

“Hey, Marc. Come on in.” I smiled and gestured for him to come inside.

“Hey, I’m sorry to not call or something before coming over I...I needed to see you.” He says in his usual gruff voice. He needed to see me? This was something else.

“Oh, um Okay.” I closed the door after he walked in. “Is something wrong?”

“Look, I thought it would be a good idea if, I asked you on a date, and they Want to ask you on a date as well, Especially Jake, He and Layla, don’t exactly get along…It’s a long story.” He seemed anxious about it, about asking me out.

“Does Layla also want a date? Is this some kinda trail period? First four dates free?” I try to lighten the mood with a joke. Marc smirks and chuckles.

“Yeah, something like that. I’m sure Layla would enjoy that. Sorry…this is still new to me…to us.” He rubs the back of his neck and averts his gaze.

“And not to me.” Admittedly my last triad hadn’t ended well but I had more experience in this than they did. “Anyway you feel about it is totally normal. Its how you act on those feelings that matters.” We sat in the living room for hours after that. Talking about how he felt, talking about how the others felt, and talking about how we all felt about Layla. I put my hand on his knee at one point and he after thinking for a second put his hand on mine, and that’s when I think I knew, no matter how those first dates went, I was saying yes.

~

Now three months later I’m grocery shopping with Layla, trying to figure out what one of the boys wrote on the shared grocery list, her arm around my waist as I’m holding the list.

“I can’t read Jake’s handwriting, what the hell does this say?” She points at it.

“Horchata Mix.” I laugh

“How can you read that?”

“He leaves me little love notes, like in the book I’m reading or on my bathroom mirror. I had to figure out what they said. So I made a cipher.”

“Well Jeeze, For all the times I managed to get him to talk to me all he could do was cuss me out.” Layla chuckles. Layla and Jake had a rough start of it, when He first showed up he brought chaos into their lives again and after they had just managed to settle down again. Layla had every right to feel like she did, but Jake also had a right to live a life, and for some reason, He really liked living his life with me. Which made me think of our first “free date”

~

“Dress for dancing. Can’t wait to see you. -J” That’s all the text said. The text made me laugh. The short black dress that hugs every curve of my body, the comfortable dance heels from my days in dance class, delicate makeup, hair done nicely. I thought I did well. I was surprised when Marc and Layla had said Jake wanted to take me out first. Apparently he had practically begged. I thought they were kidding at first, until I had gotten the text from Jake. Once I was ready I checked my phone to see a text from Jake.

“Outside. –J”

I felt my heart start to race as I left the building. He was standing outside his car, a flirtatious smirk on his face, It was a little odd to see Marc’s body but know it wasn’t him, how he held himself, the way he dressed, it was all very different. I walked up to him. I looked him over for the first time, he was dressed very nice, dress pants, white button up, dark tie, and the pageboy cap pulled over his dark curls was a good touch.

“It’s good to finally meet you Hermosa. You look stunning.”  His Spanish accent was a bit of a surprise.

“Thank you Jake, It’s really nice to meet you too.” I smile and lean in to kiss his cheek, a soft chuckle leaves his lip before returning the favor.

“Tu eres muy dulce…” His Honeyed words hit my ear and a shiver goes down my back. He opened the car door for her and she sat down in the car. As we drove to the dance hall we made some simple conversation. We pull into the parking lot of the dance hall and Jake is a gentleman the whole way in, opening doors, taking my hand, ordering my drink, it was quite sweet. But I had no idea what I was in for when we hit the dance floor.

He takes one of my hands in his and his other wraps around my waist, and he gives me a warm smile. It was my turn to surprise him by knowing where to hold myself in a starting dance position, a small smirk on my face as he chuckles and we start to dance together. I feel my heart thumping in my chest as His dark brown eyes met mine, something in the quality behind them, was different then when Marc looked at me. Everything about him was sensual, every touch, every turn, every second I felt like I was dancing on air. At some point we took a break and sat down to talk.

“Where did you learn to dance Muñeca?” He asks

“I took a bunch of classes in college, and some more recently with my ex. ” I answered honestly “And you?”

“If I told you I’d have to kill you.” He says with a chuckle. I laughed.

“Alright keep you’re secrets Lockley.”

“How else am I gonna keep you on your toes? Hm?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me and I couldn’t help but laugh again.

~

I put the blue bag of Horchata Mix in the cart with a smile then looked up at Layla. Her coffee eyes looked at me with an affection I had learned to enjoy over the last three months. I was thankful every single second I had with them. I had learned many times over the years that love like this is rare and fleeting, I just hope this time it lasts.

~

Masterlist

Chapter 2

#moon knight #marc spector #x reader #jake lockley #layla el faouly x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moonknight x reader #fluff #steven grant x reader #polyamory #poly representation #moon knight system #moon boys #layla el faouly #Spotify #steven grant

[shaunamilfman]

Finding out Shauna cheated with Jeff HC's

anon req: "would u do hcs for finding out shauna was cheating on you with jeff? like jackie tells you after she read shaunas journal :)" 

You and Shauna were practically inseparable before the crash but you felt like she was pulling away more and more in the wilderness

you would have blamed it on the crash if it wasn't for how incredibly clingy she was after the initial crash. she refused to let you out of sight and would practically sleep on top of you. 

that's why it was so noticeable when she suddenly started creating distance between you a couple weeks after the crash. 

she suddenly stops wanting to sneak away from the cabin to hook up, claiming headaches or a myriad of other reasons. you wouldn't be concerned about it at all if she didn't start sleeping in the attic as well. 

when you tried to follow her up there she claimed that she wanted some space. you were pretty hurt about it and actively avoided her for a few days. 

you were super confused why she didn't seem to want you to touch her or started covering up whenever you walked in on her undressing. you just hoped she got over it soon as you really missed your girlfriend. 

you were admittedly a little jealous watching Shauna disappear into the woods and whisper with Tai all the time, but you were glad Shauna was making friends. 

you and Jackie started hanging out a lot more because of it. you realized that you liked Jackie a lot more than you thought you would. you were curious why Shauna talked so badly about her sometimes, but you didn't want Shauna to feel like her feelings weren't valid so you didn't address it. 

Shauna was extremely hesitant about telling Jackie about your relationship so you continued to respect that. It made it a little awkward at times to talk about boys with Jackie but you powered through it. 

After a while you start to notice the desperate longing looks on Shauna's face whenever she sees you. One night you wake up to the sound of her crying on the porch. She tries to pretend she wasn't crying when you walk out, but you gently wrap your arms around her from behind and rest your head on her shoulder. She cried for a long time before turning around and kissing you wordlessly and going back inside. 

The next day Jackie comes to find you. She brings you further in the forest and quietly hands you Shauna's journal. You try to hand it back to her but she insists. "Shauna's pregnant, Y/N."

You look at her in complete shock and then look at the notebook in your hand. You sit down at the base of a tree and start to read it, tears streaming silently down your face. 

The worst part of it all was how apologetic she seemed about it. She spent half of every entry berating herself for doing it. She talked about why she couldn't understand why she would do that to you when she loved you so much. But it didn't stop her from doing it again the next time you guys got in an argument.

you stay quiet for a few days, brooding on the information. Shauna walks up to you a few days later while you're foraging off in the woods and asks to tag along. "I feel like we haven't spent that much time together recently. That's my fault, I know. I just really miss you." She looked so sincere, she really meant it.

"I don't know, Shauna." You say. "Would it hurt the baby?"

Her face crumples immediately and she starts begging you to forgive her. She keeps insisting it was a mistake, that she loves you, that she's sorry. You just stare at her blankly, unable to muster a reaction. You just feel so numb. 

She falls to her knees and grabs at your legs, holding on to you desperately as she sobs against you. You watch her for a while, but eventually you push her away gently and go back to the cabin. 

You guys won't speak for a long time. You start spending a lot of time with Jackie and talking with some of the other girls. Shauna watches you obsessively but you don't spare her a glance. It's just too painful

When Jackie and Shauna get in their big blowup you go out with her. Not because you were banished, but just to try to convince her to go back inside. Jackie's stubborn though, and eventually you head back inside the cabin long after the other girls went to sleep. 

You wake the next morning to Shauna's hysterical screaming. She alternates between your and Jackie's name. The sound of her sobbing is overpowering as you quietly walk out of the cabin. The other girls look at you extremely relieved. They hadn’t realized that you had come back in. 

You stop in your tracks when you see Shauna holding Jackie's corpse. You step towards her teary-eyed, quietly grieving the loss of your new friend. She looks desperate when she sees you. Almost as if she's seen a ghost. 

You take pity on her and fall to your knees next to her to wrap your arms around her as she sobs into your neck. 

You don't forgive her yet, but you're willing to forget. Just for a little while.

#this ended up being a lot longer than i thought it would be lmao #shauna shipman x reader #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you

[howlingmod]

Lights, Cameras , ... !

summary ; actors au because it's been stuck in my head and humanwally is very very pretty to me ... hcs that will maybe turn into something more at a later date and time

notes ; no pronouns for reader , not proof read

wc - 1.4k

-You played one of the other characters in the show, appearing frequently in episodes both as a focus and not. Sometimes you would have segments of teaching and othertimes you would simply be interacting with some of the other characters on stage when the episode’s plot called for it. Most commonly, you’d be interacting with Wally, as your characters were close friends.

-He was a sweet, charming guy- both in character and not. When the show was in its earliest days, you were admittedly a little nervous around him. No fault of his as much as it was just unfortunate ‘I am very not used to being an actor yet and you seem very calm about it, therefore you must have lots of experience, therefore I am going to look silly, therefore I am very very much so going to try and not look silly, and hope I do not look silly trying to make sure I don’t look silly,’ sort of case. In all honesty, though, being pushed to work closely with him was probably for the better. While he still had his moments of nervousness himself (more than a few times he’d come to sit with you an hour or so before shooting started to calm down, just enjoying the quiet company as you worked on getting yourself ready or checking over lines), it seemed as though his easy-going nature was one that rubbed off on you with time.

-Tense conversations about how this and that would go on set turned to more casual ones about specific scenes to practicing lines being thrown to the wayside as you both just started talking about something else. He’d still practice with you of course, typically working on segments where you took the teaching sort of role (sure, you’d been doing them for a while now, but that doesn’t make suddenly having the Big Moral Lesson shifted entirely onto your shoulders any less intimidating), it just happened that, should one of you go off topic for even a moment, you were both done practicing. There’s a line that references going outside on walks? Oh, well that reminds you of something interesting you’d seen the other day on your way home. (You can’t just turn back once you realize what you’re doing either, he will most definitely egg you on. After all, you can’t just leave him on a cliff hanger, can you?) There’s a line referencing dessert? Well, he just has to tell you about something he tried at that new cafe downtown the other day. (You’ll most certainly egg him on. It’d be rude not to return the favor and, more selfishly, you’d really just like to hear his voice a while longer.)

-You aren’t sure when things had started to change, perhaps it was just slow enough that it slipped in without either of you really noticing until it was sitting next to you both as you talked, unable to be quietly pushed back out of the room with a lame excuse. You’d say you have some specific moment in time to blame it on, but there’s just far too many.

There was that time it was raining out by the time your shifts were over, so he’d offered you his umbrella. You’d tried to refuse at first, not wanting him sacrificing his comfort for yours, but he’d insisted. He’d given some little excuse of not wanting you to get sick, only laughing when you’d pointed out he could most certainly get sick in your stead, reassuring you that he’d try his best not to.

Or there was that time you were panicking over some scene of focus, sudden stage fright taking hold of you as you seemed to lose track of all previous acting experience you had. You’d been pacing around in your room, listing off every last little thing that could go wrong from you stammering too much to you saying it all backwards and upside down (whatever that meant), only to be stopped by a hand on your shoulder holding you in place. You’d wanted to go back to listing, finding some sort of comfort in being able to identify all that could go wrong before it even happened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to when he was fixing you with some half-concerned half-placating smile. You can’t recall exactly what he’d said, something nice about how he was sure you would be just fine and that you were working yourself up over nothing, he had faith that you would deliver exactly what was asked for and more. It wasn’t anything particularly poetic or breath-taking, but it stuck with you for one reason or another. Maybe it was just how he’d been quick to offer his help in practicing some more or taking your mind off of it altogether. Perhaps it was the fact that it did in fact help, and you did in fact do well in the recording. Perhaps it was the fact he’d happily told you he knew you had it in you with some tone that was genuine enough to conjure up some warmth in your face and fidgeting in the hands.

Maybe it was that night you’d all had to stay in a little later than usual, some shooting problem or other you didn’t bother remembering, only that you would have to cut into the rest of your night with work. You moreso remember being tired -dead tired, really- by the time the problem was resolved. Most people took the opportunity to quickly say their goodbyes and quietly slip out and shamble to their cars to drive home and sleep. You, however, did not have a car, and you didn’t want to take your chances with tripping and falling into oncoming traffic in a sleepy haze. You were sizing up one of the small, semi-comfortable semi-stiff couches in the building when Wally had offered to drive you home instead. You would’ve put up more of a fight with ‘oh you dont have to’s and ‘it’s not a big deal’s but quite frankly, you were having a hard enough time opening your mouth to argue at all. It didn’t matter much, anyway, over-politeness thrown out the moment you’d gotten in his car, as you’d taken no time falling asleep in the passenger seat. He’d admitted to you later on he felt bad for waking you up when he got to your place, you seemed so comfortable for what it was. He’d helped you in your half-awake state, walking you to your door with some one-sided small talk (he had to hope you didn’t pick up on his snickering whenever you’d give a slurred, halfway-nonsensical response. you’d have to pardon his rudeness, it was just a tiny bit funny). There was some brief moment before you’d walked in to go (hopefully) lie down in a far more comfortable bed and get some proper sleep, where you’d turned to him and thanked him for his kindness. It was nothing unexpected, it was moreso just the added ‘and for all the other help, I really appreciate you’ that made something in his chest turn a bit. It wasn’t too noticable enough then, he was too focused on how the light from some faraway streetlight illuminated you just enough that he could see some twinge of something or other in your eye and perhaps he was just a little enraptured with just how close the two of you were and maybe he was a little caught up on how much he’d like to reach for one of your hands to fully realize it. He just had to hope his smile wasn’t too obviously dopey in front of you when he’d finally left your doorstep to take himself home, and that maybe you’d wanna go try that cafe downtown if he’d asked you tomorrow. He’s sure you’d appreciate the coffee anyway.

-All you really know is that you’re sure it was more obvious, on set and in recordings that there was something different. There was new little glimmer in the eye or shuffle in body language that screamed that something was different and new. It wasn’t a bad change, not at all, but it definitely gave some of your co-workers room to tease and jab when you two would make eye contact for slightly too long in that one specific way or one of you would laugh at something the other said in that near sickeningly-sweet, comedically obvious way. Whenever anyone seriously asked about it though, you’d just blamed it on those drinks that were very quickly becoming part of your morning routine.

#sorry i keep bringing up coffee im just a huge fan of it ( <- he has not had coffee in months ) #wally darling x reader #welcome home x reader #mod writes

[somebluemelodies]

when i close my eyes, i see you no matter where i am i can smell your perfume through these whisperin’ pines i’m with your ghost again

The castle is quiet. Awfully quiet.

It always is, admittedly. But, the quiet is different now. Louder. More deafening.

No matter where he wanders, inside and outside, it’s empty. Everything has been left just as it was weeks ago, untouched, the only exception being the sheets and pillows on the bed in their room.

Clutching his husband’s pillow at night is slowly becoming fruitless as the comforting scent fades over time and he loses the distinction of the one he loves most.

But he tries. He tries. Because it’s one of the only reminders he has left. Because it doesn’t hurt as much as walking into the kitchen does.

(It’ll all be over soon, right?)

But he walks in there anyway. He walks in there when his mind isn’t consumed with continuing the search and he stares and stares and stares.

And if he stares hard enough, loses focus on the world around him, then he can go back. Back to those happier times.

He can see the blossoms and the roses and the amaranth. He can see the pristine white gazebo. He can see piercing blue eyes and a stark white streak of hair.

He can see his husband. Donned in black, looking the most handsome he ever has. Looking the happiest.

(And, well, the “most handsome” says something, doesn’t it? Because he’s always found his husband very handsome. Even before.)

(When they were “just friends.”)

It’s even better when he closes his eyes. When he can put all his focus into remembering. When he can not only see, but he can feel.

Hands in his own or carefully cradling his face, treating him as if he’s actually something precious. Arms around his torso whether they’re fooling around on an adventure or cuddled up dead tired underneath the duvet. Lips against his knuckles or his cheek or his forehead or his own, soft and sweet and captivatingly addictive.

(Phantom, phantom, phantom.)

(It’ll all be over soon, right?)

He feels like home, even when they’re not explicitly "home." Maybe he is home.

He likes to sit or stand outside, on the balconies. Even though one of them is missing its bench. When his mind is too overwhelmed to conjure up memories, sometimes the wind embraces him, carries to him a sound in the distance that sounds vaguely like the voice he longs to hear once more, before it disappears through the red trees in a whisper.

He works day and night, until he physically can’t keep working. And then he’ll sleep on his husband’s side of the bed, holding his husband’s pillow, until he’s strong enough to do it all again.

He needs to get answers. There has to be answers. He needs them. He's trying. He's trying.

It’s hard, living without him. It doesn’t feel like living at all. Is it surviving? Is he surviving?

(He’s blindfolded in the dark, weakened by drugs and bruises and a mangled consciousness.)

(It’ll all be over soon, right?)

it’s a shame about the weather but i know soon we’ll be together and i can’t wait ‘til then i can’t wait ‘til then

#lyrics are from ‘colder weather’ originally by the zac brown band </3 #although i was listening to a cover of it by home free (would recommend listening to by the way) #when i got inspired :’D #i miss my cubitos guys i can’t keep doing this #qsmp roier #spiderbit #qsmp #blue writes qsmp

[autistook]

DAISIES - pt 3

Merry Brandybuck x fem!hobbit!reader / soft oc

Summary: Your thirty-third birthday is coming up, which as a Hobbit not only means you are coming of age, it also means your best friend goes around your back to get you a present which you did not even know you wanted. As you dance together, one of you starts noticing the other one in a different light.

Words: 3.8k

Content Warnings: alcohol

One day a chapter will not mention daisies or flowers, but today is not that day!

Ps. Sorry for pumping these chapters out like a fanfic babyfactory. I just felt inspired!

Previous chapter

------

You put the book you were holding back on the counter, and turned around to face Merry. His blue eyes were glimmering with hope, but yet, you had to turn his idea down.

"Absolutely not!" you said, putting your hands on your hips. "You are not doing that. I did not want a birthday party last year, or the year before, nor do I want one now!"

"Oh, come on!" Merry sighed disappointed, but still trying to change your mind. "This year is different! You come of age. It is not every year you become an adult. Not that you are an adult. You are freakishly childish," he teased, making you snort. You did not like to be the center of attention, so birthdays were always a no-go for you. Yet, Merry was determined to throw you a party this year. Merry kept trying to change your mind. "My party three years ago was fantastic! I believe I've never had so much ale."

"You can try and change my mind all you want, Merry," you said in a firm tone, hopping up on the kitchen counter to sit next to the book you just placed down. "I am not going to change my mind. I just want to go to the thing they're holding at Brandy Hall."

"To the absolutely rubbish thing my dear mother is throwing?" Merry said. "Absolutely not. As much as I love my family, no. You deserve a party that is focused on you. Just once. You would get all the ale you want and all the food. And imagine the presents!" Merry was practically yelling, mimicking opening presents.

"Merry, I don't want a party," you said, slightly frustrated. You wanted to do something fun and different, but nothing that would be centered around you, and Merry did not like that. "There's going to be dancing and music at the event. That is more than good enough for me. And there will be ale. That should be good enough for you too."

Merry sighed and started walking around in circles, biting the nail on his thumb. His gaze was fixed on the kitchen floor, until he looked back up and walked to you. He put his hands on your knees and leaned in, smiling to you softly.

"Alright. But only on two conditions!" Merry said, smiling with mischief. It was clear to you that he had something planned that you might not necessarily like, but you could no longer resist his optimistic approach and determination

"Fine," you said, looking at him as he leaned in with that smug look on his face. "What is your first condition?"

"You tell my mother it's your birthday," he said, and before you could say anything to protest, he put his finger on your mouth to hush you. "You don't need to tell anyone else. All I am asking for is you to tell my mother, so she won't make me do any work during the event. You know my family. We are hard workers and if their only, admittedly intelligent and productive son, appeared at the party for fun instead of doing chores and helping around, they would force me to work harder than ever in my life. I love my parents, but sometimes it's better to have just more fun than be responsible. I just want to have fun with my friend."

You smiled softly and nodded, patting his palm with your hand.

"What's the second condition?" you asked, preparing yourself for some utterly frustrating mischief Merry would have in mind. Yet, he went in another direction.

"You go there with me," he said, making you tilt your head in confusion. "It is also a dance, and it would be very embarrassing for me to go there with my own cousin. Pippin can find someone else to dance with him. I am sure there's some charming company for him there during dancing."

You chuckled and shook your head.

"It would probably at least confirm to your mother that it is actually my birthday, and not just some ruse to get you out of working" you said and hopped off the counter, now standing next to Merry and looking up at him. "Pippin and you can take turns I suppose. I doubt I will find someone to go with me on such short notice. But I really do want to go, I love dancing."

"I know you do," Merry said confidently. "And who knows, maybe you will meet the hobbit of your dreams on the dance floor! Well, do we have a deal?"

You took a small moment to think about it. Knowing Merry, he was up to something, but you decided to trust your friend to make sure your birthday would be actually enjoyable.

"Fine, we have a deal," you said, Merry's eyes sparkling with joy. He gave you a friendly pat on your shoulder and started walking out of the kitchen.

"You will not regret it!" Merry shouted as he ran down the hallway and fast as the wind - out of Bag End. The door quickly slammed behind him. The joy and excitement that sparked out of him made you wonder if his confident and trusting words were true at all

There was a large room in the center of Brandy Hall. There were plenty of lights, many of them different colors and some of them turning around as they dangled from the ceiling, creating shapes and shadows so other-worldly, you could barely take your eyes off of them. Many Hobbits were at this party, some already slightly tipsy. Parties hosted by Esmeralda Brandybuck were not always so lively, but this one seemed to be exceptionally colorful. Plenty of younger Brandybucks were running around the halls, their laughters echoing behind the music. The large round window was covered in a large dark blue sheet that was embroidered with silver stars. It was hung there by Merry and his father to block any natural light from coming into the main room of the party.

You walked toward the right side of the room, where you saw Merry pouring a couple of drinks to some older Hobbits. The sight made you chuckle, as Merry didn't seem to have gotten away from doing some work at the event after all. The second you locked eyes with him, he put down everything from his hands and fixed his dark red waistcoat. His mother, beautiful and around his height, stood beside him. Merry turned to him, gesturing to you. You couldn't hear what they were talking, but soon his mother smiled at you and they both made their way to you.

"I hear it is your thirty-third birthday!" said Esmeralda, smiling softly at you. She handed a small velvet box to you. You looked at the red box with confusion, then turned to look at Merry, who was visibly smirking. "Go on! It's my present to you. Meriadoc said you like presents, but don't tend to make a fuss about your birthdays."

You gave Merry an annoyed side eye. Of course he would tell his mother you love presents. He did stuff like this just to annoy you, because he knew it would embarrass you. You could see his smug expression get even bigger, as your cheeks flushed the more his mother kept talking. Esmeralda kept shaking the present in front you, ushering you to open it. You took it from her hands hesitantly, and started putting it in the pocket of your yellow dress.

"Why don't you open it now?" Merry interrupted. You looked at him, your left eye twitching. You would avenge this.

You hesitated, but then slowly opened the box. The inside of the velvet box was black, and there was some light yellow tissue paper in the middle. You glanced at Merry, who was tapping his foot impatiently. You slowly unwrapped the soft tissue paper, and as you saw what was in it, you almost let out a gasp. It was a brooch, and even though it was quite small, it was so breathtaking. It looked like a flower, the stem of it made of shiny gold, bending ever so slightly. The petals of the flower looked like they were made of pearls, and in the middle of it, a yellow diamond. You looked up at Esmeralda Brandybuck, her face full of joy. Then you turned to look at Merry, whose face was now full of pride, instead of mischief.

"Meriadoc said you like flowers," she said warmly, taking the brooch in her palm, delicately handing it towards you. Merry took the velvet box away from you, smiling and clearly impressed with himself.

"I really can't take this," you stuttered, trying to push Esmeralda's hand away with the brooch. She shook her head and started pinning the present to the front left of your dress.

"It's been in my family for quite a few generations, but no one ever had any use for it," she said as she tapped the flower gently. It was now decorating your dress, and you couldn't help but feel guilty and amazed by being given something so beautiful that had so much worth. "It is the day you come of age, Ms. Baggins. You should not be so coy about wanting something special for this day. Meriadoc wanted to give one of his best friends a good birthday present, and the way he spoke about your interests and gave me some options, I came to the conclusion this was the one to go with. I don't know if you noticed or know any flora at all, but it's-"

"A daisy," you finished her sentence. You were amazed by how well Merry had planned this, even though you specifically told him you wanted no presents, for it would annoy and embarrass you. And yet, this gift was the best present you had ever received, and made you feel somewhat special. "Thank you, I really appreciate it, Mrs. Brandybuck."

Esmeralda gave you a soft smile before she turned away to go back behind the bar. She gave her son a meaningful look, and walked off. When his mother was no longer at a hearing distance, you looked at him, partly furious, partly impressed and thankful.

"I'm sorry," Merry said, putting his hands on your shoulders. "It's your thirty-third birthday. I had to get you a present, and I knew there was a perfect one in my mother's jewelry box."

"You're the worst!" you said, making Merry laugh whole-heartedly. He gave you a pat on your shoulder as you two started walking towards the bar, where Merry got you both some ale.

You and Merry made your way through the dance floor, where plenty of children were dancing with their siblings and parents. Most of them were Brandybucks, but there were some Tooks and a few Boffins here and there. You inquired of Pippin's whereabouts, but Merry said Pippin could not make it that evening, because he had some stuff to figure out with Frodo. You let it slide, despite being curious what your other best friend and your brother might have been up to.

You and Merry sat on a few wooden chairs against the back wall, drinking your ales in silence for a bit.

"So, is it everything you hoped for?" Merry asked, taking a sip of his ale. He looked at you, waiting for an answer for a moment, before he realized you were not even listening. "Is it?"

"What?" you responded, snapping out of your own thoughts. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"Are you staring at someone?" Merry immediately asked and his gaze turned to the dance floor, as his eyes studied every Hobbit there.

"What? No," you lied, which Merry could immediately tell from your voice. Your eyes had been lingering on one of Pippin's older sisters. Pervinca Took was your age, and you had been crushing on her for a while a few months back. She looked surprisingly different from Pippin, but her eyes had the same childlike wonder her younger brother always had. Her curls were beautiful, and the way she was dancing on the floor was mesmerizing.

"Are you staring at him?" Merry asked, pointing at a very old Brandybuck, barely able to stand because of his age. You snorted at this sarcastic gesture. Merry smiled at his own joke with pride, until he decided to poke some more information out of you. "Is it her? Is it him? What about him? Or her?" he kept asking and pointing to practically every adult Hobbit dancing in front of you, until you finally told him to stop.

"Fine, fine!" you said, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Look, just, don't tell Pippin. I had a crush on his sister for a while, so I was just looking at her dance. Nothing more."

"Wait, which sister?" Merry asked, his interest immediately peaking. You nodded towards Pervinca, and Merry smirked. "But her dancing is so clumsy!" he joked and you snorted.

"Look, it was a small crush and I got over it," you said, trying to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.

"Ah, yes. You got over it," Merry said, trying to hold in some laughter. "So you staring at her dancing was not the reason you didn't listen to me?" he jested.

"She just looks nice tonight, that's all!" you responded fully honestly. "I am over the crush. I'm just not over how good she is at dancing. I mean, look at her!"

And you both looked. Indeed, her dancing was astonishing and she looked like she was having the time of her life. Two months earlier you would have been swooning over her, and yes, while you noticed her looks even at that moment, you truly were over the small crush, just waiting for a new one to appear.

"She is good at dancing," Merry said, impressed, nodding along to the music, before turning to look at you again. "But so are you. Do you want to go dance?" he asked, putting down his pint next to the chair and offering his hand to you. You put down your own ale, took his hand and followed him to the dancefloor.

The music was loud and inviting. Everywhere around you were Hobbits laughing, singing and dancing. You and Merry danced to some more upbeat songs together, hopping around the dancefloor together hand in hand, every now and then changing dancing partners with other fellow Hobbits that came your way.

The time went by fast. You had maybe a couple of drinks down, as your face became flushed from all the intense dancing and the ale started affecting you. You stopped moving for a while to catch a breath, and went for some water, sitting down at your seats again. You held your hair up by your hand to give your neck some air, your other hand fanning your face.

"Already giving up?" Merry asked, clearly out of breath himself. As an answer, you just chuckled and drank some water, put it down again and kept fanning your face.

"And you said the events your mother throws are lame!" you stated, practically gasping for air. The air in the room was growing hotter and hotter, as more and more Brandybucks found their way to the dancefloor.

"Can you dance with me?" asked a little voice in front of Merry all of a sudden. A small hobbit girl was standing there, tilting her head and bouncing up and down on her little feet.

"Why of course, my lady," Merry answered to the kid and led her to the dance floor.

The small Hobbit (probably a Took) hopped on top of Merry's feet, as he danced her around. The giggles coming out of her mouth filled the air, making your heart swell as you watched the two hop around. It was an adorable sight. Merry lifted the child by her armpits and swung her in the air, and her giggles grew louder. Your lips curled up to a soft smile as you observed your best friend entertaining this small, innocent creature.

The song slowly ended, and the Hobbits responsible for the tunes announced a break from the action. The drums started playing a slower beat, all the other instruments following. Merry gave the girl a pat on her tiny back, ushering her towards her parents. Slowly he made his way to you, offering his hand once again.

"It's a slow song. Do you think you can handle it?" he said. You gave him an amused look and took his hand. He led you to the dancefloor and placed his hands gently on your waist. You put your hands on his shoulders and smiled at him.

"That was quite an adorable sight," you stated, making Merry chuckle.

"What can I say, I am a natural charmer," he joked as you were moving around in very slow movements. The air was slowly cooling down a little bit, as the dancing got slower and the people were fewer. Merry decided to ask you again the question you didn't answer before. "So, is it everything you hoped for?"

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused.

"Your birthday," he explained, looking down at you and into your eyes. "You wanted to come here, and you got it. Unfortunately, I had to do something you asked me not to do."

"As per usual," you continued his sentence, making him laugh softly. He nodded and looked down for a second.

"Yes, as per usual," he said, smiling to himself. He then looked back at you. "I know you don't think birthdays have to be something big, but I just really wanted to give you something special this year. You're my best friend. After Pippin, of course."

You turned your gaze down to look at the brooch you got from him and his mother.

"It's beautiful," you said quietly. "I just feel guilty. It must be worth so much."

One of his hands moved away from your waist, and gently cupped your other cheek, making you look at him in his eyes.

"Hey. Don't feel guilty," he said compassionately, but firmly. "I knew my mother no longer needed it, and I wanted to give my best friend something for her birthday. I knew you would have more use for it than anyone in my family."

You looked at him with some guilt in your eyes, his thumb softly caressing your cheek.

"I've never given you a present this great, Merry," you said with some apathy in your voice. You had been friends for so long, but this was better than any gift either of you had ever gotten for each other - and certainly better than anything you had ever gotten him.

Merry sighed, and pulled you in for a comforting hug. You continued dancing, as he reassured you.

"I promise you, that you have absolutely nothing to feel guilty for," he said, holding you tightly, one hand behind your back and one behind your head. His hand was softly caressing the back of your head, his palm brushing against your hair. "I have always loved your presents, no matter how stupid they were."

You laughed loudly, his friendly banter immediately cheering you up. You had the tendency to feel guilty over the smallest of things sometimes, but Merry always found a way to go around the insecurities and make you feel better. Merry laughed with you, and soon he pulled away from the hug. You two kept dancing, but no longer were your hands on his shoulders and his hands on your waist. His other arm stayed around your back, the other one moving next to it, so that his hands landed on your lower back. Your arms were up around the sides of his neck, gently resting on his shoulders. He was gazing into your eyes, and for the first time you took note of just how blue they really were.

"I don't know how you do it," you said after a moment of silent staring and dancing.

Merry looked at you puzzled, not sure how to respond.

"Do what?" he finally responded, his hands soft on your lower back. He was still not breaking eye contact, but it looked like he was analyzing the emotions behind each of your eyes.

"That," you said, gazing back at him. "You always find a way to cheer me up. I feel guilty and sad over the stupidest of things sometimes, yet you always come through for me."

The right corner of his lips curled into a small shy smile.

"You make it sound like it's a big deal," he responded modestly.

"It is a big deal, Merry!" you exclaimed, almost shocked that he didn't seem to be aware of the impact of his support and comfort. Merry kept looking at you, his hands on your back, analyzing the meaning and importance of your words. "I don't think you realize how much it means to me. Like today! I didn't want any presents or a party, because I've never really felt like I was worth any of that. And yet you managed to give them to me in a way that made me feel special and important."

Merry had a look on his face that you had not really seen on him before. It wasn't there earlier, but it had slowly now appeared. It seemed like a mix of pity and confusion, but it was not that. You kept dancing, gazing into each other's eyes, gently wrapped up around each other. The brooch on your chest was now slightly brushing against the fabric of his vest, yet neither of you seemed to notice just how close you had moved during the conversation.

"You are special and important," he finally said after some time, still looking at you with that new look, and you couldn't quite determine if it was a bad or a good one. "I wish you could see that."

With that, the slow music shifted to a very fast and upbeat song, making everyone around you start to move more. Then suddenly the amount of Hobbits on the dance floor doubled, as everybody got back into the cheerful state they were in before. The exhaustion had worn off and the party was properly back on. You and Merry gazed at each other for a few more seconds, before letting go of each other.

"Maybe one day I will. But for now, let's go sit back down. I want to finish that water and replace it with some more ale," you said in a playful tone, trying to dust off the seriousness that was lingering between you and your best friend. His other hand lingered on your lower back for a very short moment, before you started walking back to your seats. Merry was still standing where you had danced with him.

"I think I'm starting to see it," he said quietly to himself.

-----

NEXT CHAPTER

@chatteringfox @shiinata-library

#daisies #merry x reader #lotr #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #lotr fic #tolkien fanfiction #lotr merry #merry brandybuck #meriadoc x reader #meriadoc brandybuck #tolkien #jrrt

[helianskies]

Frain - 16?

you know what. i haven't written a ficlet for frain since the winter prompts last year. and this is perfect. here you go! >:)

Friends

“You know something,” Antonio begins as Francis sits down opposite him, having brought them both their second hot drink (a hot chocolate for Antonio, who really doesn’t need any more caffeine in his life, and a vanilla latte for himself). 

“I know a few things,” Francis quips. “Go on, though. What is it?”

“Well,” his friend continues as he claims his cup and starts to warm his hands on it, “I was just thinking that… I’ve been on a lot of romantic dates in my time, and yet, I still think the best ‘dates’ I’ve ever actually had have been with you.”

Francis is not sure where this has come from or why, but he’s curious. Antonio has had his fair share of liaisons and short-lived relationships, and has heard all sorts of stories. So he supposes that this thought of Antonio’s is a bit random, out of the blue, unexpected. 

“You’ve had some good ones, no?” Francis therefore remarks, before he gives his latte a taste—perfectly sweet. “They can’t all have been bad.”

“Francis.”

“Mmh? Yes, w— what?”

“We are sitting in a café. At a spa. For a ‘romantic weekend getaway’.”

“And what of it?” Francis responds (though, admittedly, he hasn’t thought of it like that, and feels a bit embarrassed that Antonio has pointed it out). “I had a voucher! I had to bring someone.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Antonio says, nevertheless. “I just think… on top of the spa, there’s the fancy meals out, the botanical gardens, the picnic, the pottery class, the art galleries, the family dinners…” A warm smile has bloomed on his face. “Why is it that you manage to take me on better dates than anyone I have ever actually dated?”

To that, Francis lacks any real response. He doesn’t know how to feel. He… can’t think of an instance where it’s ever been intentional, to invite Antonio to do so many different and fun things with him that, from the outside looking in, probably did look like romantic gestures. 

Upon reflection, though, Antonio is no less guilty of such things. 

Sometimes he turns up to Francis’ place clutching a bouquet of flowers (‘I just thought the colours would look nice in your kitchen’; ‘I remember you saying you like calla lilies…’). Sometimes he texts randomly in the middle of the day and says things like, ‘i heard there’s a new restaurant by the docks’ followed by a flurry of emojis of wine bottles and hearts and winking faces…

It’s like how Antonio would offer to do Francis’ hair before going out, to sit and listen as he offloads a bad day at work, to do some tidying in his garden (that is not a euphemism!) because it isn’t Francis’ priority. He’d even agreed to have a look at Francis’ car when he’d had issues with it starting, popping up the bonnet, playing mechanic for him. 

He’d gotten so messy, but had fixed whatever the issue had been, and… well, that is what friends do, no? Help each other? Have a laugh with each other? Go out with each other?

It isn’t that Francis doesn’t care for Antonio. He’s… He’s certainly had his moments of feeling like he cares too much for Antonio, like he’s overstepping or walking a fine line at best. But he doesn’t want to ruin what they’ve got. He doesn’t want to put twenty years of friendship at risk just because he may or may not sometimes believe he lo—

“Take me on a date.”

Francis sputters on his latte. He moves his cup away as he begins to cough, and Antonio hurries to pass him a napkin, apologising profusely for saying such a thing at what was clearly the wrong moment.

“It’s fine,” Francis replies, giving his mouth a quick wipe as he tries to compose himself. “It’s fine, it just— it just caught me off-guard, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” Antonio says again. “But I… I do kind of mean it, you know.” He gives a gentle sigh, and holds onto his hot chocolate again in both hands. “I dunno… Maybe it shouldn’t surprise me, but I just always seem to have more fun being around you than I have with… Well… Don’t worry,” he dismissed in the end. “Forget I said anything.”

But how can he? How can Francis pretend that he didn’t just say something like that?

Even though Antonio is trying to hide behind his drink, Francis feels that hiding is an impossibility for both of them. So, he reaches out and steals away Antonio’s hand, having to pry it carefully away from porcelain.

Despite Antonio’s wariness, Francis says, “Maybe we can talk about it later on, in our room.”

Antonio looks meek, if not disappointed. “For the best,” he replies. “Sorry for bringing it up.”

“It’s fine, really,” Francis assures him. 

He gives Antonio’s hand a pat—all he can think to do in the moment to try and comfort him, knowing that… things may now be awkward between them—before Antonio pulls his hand back, returns it to his cup, and instead decides to talk about their next shared session. A ‘sleep and reset treatment’. Maybe that is what they need. A reset. A hard reset…

[ full ficlet collection here on ao3! ]

#helia writes #hetalia #hws france #hws spain #frain #just two friends chilling at a spa five feet apart and hngggg

[wooahaes]

please write more mingyu x chubby reader 🥹

u ask and u shall receive

dress

pairing: non-idol!mingyu x chubby!fem!reader

word count: 1.3k~

warnings: no proofreading at all. reader is wearing a dress. wedding talk (as guests). talk of past insecurity regarding clothes shopping as a plus size woman. gyu simping for reader but what else is new. implications of sex in one small comment about one of the dresses reader tried on. also me throwing a lil bit of my opinions into the mix but thats normal in chubby reader fics.

daisy’s notes: need me a freak like gyu tbh. excuse the bad title im tired.

You've decided that Mingyu is the worst person in the world to go shopping with.

You had needed to pick up something new for a wedding the two of you had been invited to--one of your friends had invited you to her wedding. For whatever reason, the couple had asked that all of you stick to greens and blues in order to fit in with the theme they had--down to showing you the exact shades to stick to. It might have felt like a little much but, hey, not your wedding and you still wanted to go. You were fine with finding something not too expensive that could double as a dress for other occasions. Mingyu already had his outfit figured out, and he had kept mentioning that he was always happy to go shopping with you since you always wanted an extra pair of eyes. It was hard to turn him down when he gave you puppy dog eyes, even though you knew how shopping was going to go.

Every single thing you wore, you were met with a "You look beautiful. Do you like it?" even when you already hated the dress. Mingyu knew that shopping was frustrating sometimes, sure, but you sometimes wished he'd maybe hold back on defaulting to a very genuine compliment (his eyes lit up every single time you'd walk out and he'd get that cute, bashful smile that he reserved just for you).

"Gyu," you said, "Baby. We've talked about this."

"You do!" He said, arms folded across his chest. He had stopped sitting up completely straight after dress number six, but he quickly adjusted his posture. "You always look beautiful and you should know that."

You drew closer to him, taking his face into your hands, "Okayy.... But consider the fact that I really, really wanna pick a dress and go home, and it's hard to pick one when you keep telling me I look pretty."

"Then stop being so pretty," he wrapped his arms around your waist. "Do you want me to be serious?"

You smiled at him, brushing his hair from his eyes. "It'd help."

"Have they all fit well?" He stayed right where he was, still looking up at you adoringly. "Have you felt uncomfortable in any of them?"

You could immediately eliminate a few right offhand. The first had been strapless and, despite Mingyu's insistence you could pull it off (you held the sneaking suspicion that was what he would want to do by the end of the night), you'd felt a little too... exposed for your own liking. Plus, it had clung to your curves a little too snug. All the reasons you thought Mingyu liked it (although, then again, he liked you when you were dressed in pajamas and curled up happily next to him--so it really wasn't the dress), you had admittedly felt uncomfortable. The only reason you picked the damn thing was because it matched one of the colors and it looked a little less risque before you tried it on.

"I can see you thinking," he teased. "What about this one?" He drew his hands back so that they were resting at your waist, right where the skirt of this dress flared out. It barely brushed your knees. "You look pretty in this one, too, but you always said you hate this stuff--" He ran his fingers lightly over the ruching around the stomach, "because it's what they always say hides your stomach. Like you should be ashamed of it, right?"

You almost teased him about how you didn't know he listened to you when you were watching those wedding dress shows, but you knew he did. "I mean, it's pretty," you turned away from him to look toward one of the mirrors. "I don't mind it that much, really," you frowned at your reflection. "I just think that if someone likes ruching, they should like it for the look--not because it changes your body."

"And?" He draped an arm over the back of the chair. "What about this one?"

"Not the one," you settled on, following your gut. "I don't like the dangle-y flower things anyway," you said, toying with the off-the-shoulder sleeves. "I don't think it fits the vibe she was going for anyway. It's too... fairy princess-y," you shrugged. "She kinda wants it to look mature."

He nodded. "Okay... What about the fourth one you tried on?"

You started to wrack your brain for which one that was. Seven dresses in--more than you expected, to be sure--and you swore some of them blended together in a way.

Mingyu could see it wasn't ringing any bells immediately. "The one with the..." He gestured toward his own chest, trying to mime out overlapping fabric. "Go try it on again?"

You nodded, already heading back into your designated fitting room. You took a deep breath before changing out, always feeling a little off. Growing up bigger meant that dressing rooms carried a lot more weight you ever wanted to admit. Too many times of crying because things didn't fit your body the way they did mannequins, or even your damn peers sometimes: like you should be ashamed of it instead of realizing how bullshit that is. The easy answer everyone was happy to spew was to just "lose the weight," but even if you did--you still needed something to wear. Why should you have to lose weight to fit into something that you wanted to wear then and there? Especially with how quickly fashion trends changed--both as an adult and especially as a teenager. Teenagers were relentless with that type of shit. It took a while to get comfortable in your own body, to find things that made you feel pretty, but the process of buying would always dredge those feelings up too easily.

Maybe that was why Mingyu always liked coming with you even if he'd only tell you how beautiful you were to him. He knew how hard it could be to buy things sometimes. Having your own personal hype man helped make it a little easier.

You stepped back out after you had changed into the dress again, giving a little twirl as you did so. You had liked this one, after all: it was comfortable and you didn't feel like you stood out too much when you wore it. For a wedding, that was really the point: but you still felt pretty enough to wear it in the future for dates.

"Well?"

You turned back to Mingyu. "It matches the color and the look she wants..."

"And? How do you feel in it?" He crossed his arms. "You always look pretty, but are you comfortable in it?"

You turned to face yourself in the mirror, calling over your shoulder for Mingyu to come over. He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around you immediately before pressing a kiss against your temple.

He waited a moment longer for you to say something. "Well?"

"I think it's perfect," you hummed, resting your hands at your hips. "I just like seeing you next to me. Reminds me which one of us is the hotter one."

He placed his hands over your own, squeezing them lightly. "Then you should go get changed--"

His hands had slipped, dipping forward into a space of the dress you hadn't even checked, immediately making you light up with realization. The damn thing had pockets.

"This is the one," Mingyu said before you could, knowing you too damn well at this point, pulling his hands out of your pockets. "Okay? This is the one."

You laughed at how he knew exactly what you were about to say and pulled him in for a quick kiss before taking a step back. You liked to watch his face before you left. No matter what dress you had on, Mingyu always looked at you like you were the one who had placed the stars in the sky, and that was the real reason you liked bringing him along in the end.

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x you

[siriusly-sapphic]

Ugly Mugs - Emmary

@sapphicmicrofics | Prompt: Pottery

Words: 650 Pairing: Mary MacDonald/Emmeline Vance AO3

“That’s a terrifying amount of… vases. Mugs? Is that a soup bowl?” The first thing Emmeline says when she enters Mary’s house — a small place in a muggle town Emmeline has never visited before — isn’t particularly charismatic. It took weeks for Mary to invite her over and she’s already messing up. “Sorry. I just — didn’t expect so much… art?” Mary’s laugh sounds forced. Emmeline cringes at the sound. Sometimes she thinks life would be easier if she’d never stopped being the shy kid in her friends’ shadows. “They were Marlene’s,” Mary says. She walks over to the bookshelf, littered with amateur pottery creations. “She had a thing for a muggle girl that taught a pottery class. Took it three times — never improved.” Emmeline’s turn to laugh as if it doesn’t hurt to do that. She didn’t know Marlene well — she was a few years older and didn’t socialise much with the rest of the Order — but this is a story she finds easy to believe. Mary isn’t done talking. “She gifted stuff to all of her friends and everyone accepted them but no one wanted more.” she forced another laugh. Mary picks up an over-sized mug with the word dyke painted on the side. “No one wanted more . So when  — and then the others… they all went to me.” Mary coughs and sits down on her couch, Emmeline goes to sit next to her. She doesn’t know what to say. They’ve all lost friends in the war. Emmeline learned years ago that nothing she says fixes it. Instead of saying something stupid like I’m sorry , she quietly takes Mary’s hand. “She made this one for Dorcas,” Mary holds up the mug, and her laugh sounds better now. Emmeline snorts. Dorcas , she knew. She and Dorcas shared a dorm for seven years. Emmeline watched her bawl her eyes out over Narcissa Black’s engagement — watched her down fire whisky like water when Slytherin won the Quidditch cup. Emmeline’s the reason Dorcas joined the order at all. For a while, it felt good to have someone around who understood why she cried upon hearing about Rodolphus Lestrange nearly dying in battle. She’s only just managed to give the guilt of it all a place. “I bet she loved that, ”Emmeline chuckles and her heart skips a beat when Mary grins. Mary has dimples when she smiles — they look pretty. “She did,” Mary confirms. “She drank tea from it, but you can only fill it halfway because it leaks,” she says with a high voice, but she laughs and so does Emmeline, so it’s easy to ignore the grief they’re triggering in each other. Emmeline can picture it like she was there herself. She’s never seen Dorcas with this mug, but she reaches out to touch the admittedly ugly thing and she knows it’s true. She doesn’t cry. She’s done that enough. “No one ever thought to fix it?” she asks instead. “Where’d be the fun in that?” Mary says. She hands the mug to Emmeline. “Take it off my hands? Figure out where the leak is yourself.” Emmeline stumbles over her appreciative “thank you,” and lays the mug in her lap, blushing furiously. She’s had that habit for as long as she can recall — she hates it as much as she did in school. She turns to Mary, who’s now chuckling at her like she’s poking fun, and despite her embarrassment, Emmeline finds she doesn’t really mind when it comes from Mary. She clutches the mug tighter. Dorcas would be rolling on the floor laughing if she saw Emmeline this nervous over a girl. Emmeline chuckles at the thought. “What is it?” Mary asks. She gets up to get them both a bottle of beer, the muggle kind, and when she sits back down Emmeline swears she’s closer than before. “Nothing,” she assures her, blushing brighter when Mary’s dimples reappear. “It’s all good.”

#mary macdonald #emmeline vance #emmary #marauders era #marauders wlw #hp wlw #hp femslash #harry potter #my fics

[simplyreveries]

Congrats on the 500 followers I love your stuff so its well deserved!!! If I could please have a matchup id be over the moon! 🌺

My pronouns are She/Her. Im short, chubby, and adorable! I have fluffy curly hair, glasses, and I love wearing dresses and skirts or cozy sweaters. I usually wear bright colors or vibrant patterns a-la miss frizzle think pink skirt with grapefruit print or dress with cacti/dinosaurs but then I pair it with cute combat boots and a leather jacket.

My hobbies are baking and video games. But I also love taking walks, gardening (born and raised farm girl), going to museums, and learning new cool facts to add to my fact hoard. Basically I will watch documentaries for fun usually while also baking brownies.

Im an ambivert and flip flop from leave me alone in my bed nest to recharge to going up to strangers to tell them I love there makeup or hair. I try hard to be a kind genuine person who brings joy into the world but admittedly I have a petty ice queen side to me, like it takes a LOT to piss me off as im very patient and forgiving (messing with my loved ones is a fast track tho) but once I’m there I will take them down and they wont see it coming as I can be quite the sneaky ‘manipulative’ type. I do use my evil powers for good sometimes like helping 3 couples meet/confess.

I’m very loyal, but take a while to trust others and open up. Once someone has gained my trust and friendship I am very loving and affectionate this includes cuddles, massages if permitted and hugs. My love languages are Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation, so friends can expect random bombardments of genuine compliments or if they mentioned something they wanted / needed done consider it taken care of.

Despite all this and often being called the ‘mature one’ or ‘the dependable one’ by my friends I am actually very shy and easily flustered, I cant handle compliments of flirting without combusting. I will go from serious and put together handling things like a boss to squeaking and completely falling apart if someone says something really nice to me. I cant handle getting gifts either.

Uhh idk how to finish this so fun fact time I guess:

Did you know that certain chicken breeds can lay naturally occurring blue eggs? I raised several and those chickens are often very independent compared to other breeds. They still like getting hugs and pets tho! Also the eggs taste mostly the same but the yolk has more flavor.

i match you with trey clover!!

you two give me unintentional couple that are the parents in a friend group? whenever there's some trouble going on, especially within heartslabyul you two are someone like deuce usually comes to for advice. i'd imagine you two would always be baking with each other-- he'd be in love with someone who enjoys it as much as he does. only better for the dorm because that means twice the amounts of sweets obviously...

with what trey does in the science club, he does have a knack for growing plants in the school's botanical garden. as he also uses it to grow his own fruits and such for baking. he'd gladly show you what he's doing, he is particularly proud of his strawberries for tarts hehe.

it's funny because though trey thinks the world of you-- giving any kind of romantic compliments is so difficult for him. i mean, he's canonically bad at flirting. he can't help but feel bashful whenever you yourself seemingly shower him with praise. he tends to show his affection through acts of service like you, he wants to be someone that actively goes out their way and does something for you to brighten your day. trey wants to be reliable to you, because he's such a mess bringing it into words, he shows you all the time.

trey is affectionate but around others its very discreetly, hand on your back, playing with your hair, he likes holding your hand, he'd urb his thumb over the back of it too.

#i appreciate the fun fact hehehe #twst x reader #trey x reader #matchups

[dirthara-dalen]

WIP Wednesday

Another week another Wip. This up is taken from my prequels era fic with my oc aLee who is descended from my Jedi knight and my friend's @myth-and-mischief oc Shara-rea. It will be partly under a cut.

Once alone he found the place eerily silent. Slowly he began walking down the tunnel as he gazed at the various kyber statues. Each one radiated with the force, he found it oddly comforting as he walked past them. As he reached a t-junction he discovered that the statue looked like the one in his vision. It was a beautiful shade of teal, a rare kyber colour, the statue itself depicted an ethereal woman holding three orbs.

“Are you looking at the statues too?”

Lee pivoted slightly to see a young human girl, no older than maybe six years old looking at him. She had long black hair sitting on her shoulder in a braid with the same teal flowers he had seen all over the city delicately woven in. Her teal green eyes were vibrant and full of life as she smiled at him. There was something about her that felt familiar but he couldn’t place it, something about her that felt safe.

“Y-ya…I saw this one in a vision.” He looked back up at it. “I do not know why exactly the force sent me vision. I’m Lee by the way.”

She giggled. “I’m Shara-rae, most people call me Shara.”

“Are you training to be a guardian Shara?”

She shook her head. “No…Chirrut said I’m only allowed to stay here until I’m of age to become a padawan. Well…that's what he said the Jedi said.”

“You’re force sensitive?!” This surprised Lee. Normally he would have been able to sense her. As he thought about it he realized the feeling that comforted him did not emanate off of the statues but her.

She nodded. “That’s how I found you here. Most normal people don’t feel like anything in the force but you send out ripples in the force.”

Lee found this comment interesting as he knelt in front of her. He watched as she did not follow his movements. Could she be blind? If so, was she not using force sight? Did she not know how too?

“Shara, are you blind?”

“I am, Chirrut is too. He likes to teach me tricks on how to get around. One trick is listening to the sound of the statues as each one gives off a different sound in the force.”

His heart sank upon hearing this and yet he was impressed. “Has…has no one ever told you about force sight?”

“Force sight?” She tilted her head giving him a curious look.

Lee fully sat down as Shara sat across yet relatively close to him. He was no expert on the topic but he did know some things. He did his best to explain how it worked to her. Admittedly he also explained how there were others who would be able to teach her far better than he ever could. He told her that there was even a race of force sensitives that had to use it to see. To see her smile learning that there was an entire group of people out there that might be like her made him happy for some odd reason. Was this the reason he saw the statute in his vision? Was he supposed to meet her?

“Lee?” She spoke with an inquisitive tone to her voice.

“Yes?”

“What do you look like? Baze says I’m human but that there are aliens here too. Some of the guardians are aliens. I do know that.”

He knew using words to describe himself would be difficult. “Well, I’m half human myself. My mother is a species called Mirialan which is categorized as a near human species. As a result I have green skin. As for how I really look…” He gently took her hands in his.

“What is it?”

He smiled as he then guided her hands to his face. “I find sometimes touch is the best way to learn something. I do not mind letting you do this, Shara.”

“Do what?”

“Feel my face, learn my appearance through touch rather than sight. Not everything has to be done through sight.”

No one had ever offered to do this with her before. She didn’t know what anyone looked like, only what they sounded like. As Lee let go of her tiny hands she stood up in front of him. Slowly she traced the outline of his face starting with his forehead. It wasn’t too broad then she felt something fuzzy which guessed were his eyebrows. As she ghosted over his eyes she was somewhat surprised to find they were similar to hers in their shape.

She had, of course, traced her own face of course but still had no idea what she herself looked like. As she brushed past his nose she found it didn’t jut out from his face too far and had a bit of a rounded tip. Then she reached his lips. He was still smiling as he found he couldn’t stop. He didn’t know if she had realized but she had the biggest, dorkiest smile on her own face that was bringing him so much joy at the moment. She began to slowly traced his lips, from the corner curl of his smile down to his plump bottom lip.

“I really like your smile.”

“I like yours too. You know, as silly as this may sound I feel as if the force wanted us to meet Shara. Why else would it have given me a vision of the statue?”

#ligastar starwing #the starwing legacy #lee starwing #Shara-Rae #swtor #Star Wars

[saintescuderia]

Things I Learned from Ricky Gervais’ ‘After Life.’

I was told I would cry from laughter — and from ugly emotional sobbing.

Ricky Gervais and I have a love-hate relationship.

One the one hand, he is one of the funniest comedians who haven’t diluted their craft for the sake of pleasing people. He makes jokes because he finds them funny. He is self-assured in his humour that nothing phases him — not even society’s politically correct tendencies — but it also means he just doesn’t give a shit. If you’re offended, that’s on you. There is no sensitivity here.

Which actually sums up his character, Tony, quite well.

We meet Tony who is struggling to make sense of life in the wake of his wife’s death. For him, he would’ve committed suicide had it not been for the fact that he needed to feed the dog. And that brings me to the first point.

#1 / Animals are sometimes (read: often) better.

I say this because one of the scenes that really got me was when Tony and his dog, a German Shepherd by the name of Brandy, visit the beach. Tony looks at the water and remembers a memory of his wife. Suddenly overwhelmed with the familiar desire to end it, he tries again. Wading into the water fully dressed, he keeps going in and in — until Brandy notices as starts desperately barking at him. Tony hears her and reluctantly comes out to be with his dog. Brandy might not have given him a reason to live— the show’s whole premise is that only you can give that to yourself — but she gave him a reason to not kill himself.

#2 You can grieve yourself.

This show was recommended to me in that, “if you’ve ever experienced loss, it’ll hit.” Now, I have never really lost anyone really close to me. All the funerals I’ve attended in my life had been some convoluted relation in the community in which I was there was an extension of my parents. I don’t know death. I don’t know loss. Not really.

But, the show did come at a time when life had done a complete overhaul with me. People had walked out, I had flipped out. Without warning, my life had completely changed. I was still processing everything that had happened which made me struggle at times to recognise the person in the mirror. I had a lot to grieve in that so many doors had closed — doors I though had remained open forever.

Tony’s navigation through his pain and suffering was something I could relate to all too well. He held so much anger within himself that lashing out was his way of coping. He punished others to create distance. The coping mechanism of pushing everyone as a form of self-punishment because he couldn’t save his wife; that he doesn’t want anyone else close anymore because they could disappear and cause him more grief to mourn.

That, or I’m just projecting.

#3 Support comes in many forms.

Admittedly, Tony was an asshole to to the people around him. Lenny, a co-worker who loves to eat, receives the blunt of many a food-related joke as Tony pokes fun of his size and appetitie. A new girl to the workplace, Sandy, asks Lenny if it bothers him. Lenny shrugs it off, completely indifferent.

“Nah, he’s just a mate.”

And you think, honey no, that guy’s being a dick to you. Tony isn’t his friend, he literally calls him a pig. One sequence has Tony holding onto the back of Lenny’s neck and talking about his neck fat.

Yet, at the end, it turns out that Lenny, the clueless and hungry Lenny, was actually right. During a tangent at the end of the show where Tony realises how grateful he is for the people in his life, he thanks Lenny for being his “human stress ball.”

Lenny didn’t do anything spectacular. He didn’t chase after Tony like his brother-in-law who would try to come up with ways to make Tony happy. Lenny just knew this was Tony’s was of coping and took it and let him have this as a cathartic outlet.

Which reminds me —

#4 Don’t be an asshole.

I kept waiting for the therapist’s asshole-ish ways to pay off and give Tony the answer he was seeking. That the tough, careless ‘love’ was actually love and there would be a turning point.

Spoilers: it never came.

In fact, the turning point came from Tony’s conversations with a lady he befriends at the cemetary. She had lost her husband and they would often sit together and talk. A kind, simple lady. Her name was Anne and she delivered one of the key lines from the show that stuck with me.

“I know you might not like living, but you make the world a better place.”

(Or something along those lines. I may be misremembering since I was sobbing throughout it all.)

Tony realises that punishing humanity only adds to the problem — Anne’s line of “they grow in numbers” about the assholes of the world is the plain truth — and that doesn’t work for him. Not anymore. The pain he felt actually eased when he did good things. And it’s easier to do good things if you just try to be a good person overall.

This train of thought led him to finally start to change his life. From cleaning up the dishes around his house to buying proper food to showing tokens of appreciation to the people around him. Tony sees that he’s not the only victim of life and that everyone has their own shit. Giving people the benefit of the doubt and trying to do good is much better for the soul than adding to the asshole tally of the world.

“A society grows great when old men plant trees, the shade of which they know they’ll never sit in.”

#after life #ricky gervais #ricky gervais after life #ricky gervais takes brutal swipe at james corden as he reignites ‘feud’ #british tv #tv review #life lessons #writer stuff #writers on tumblr #female writers #writer #writerscommunity #writing #ao3 writer #writers and poets #writeblr #movie review #film review #tv recommendations #james corden #kevin hart #black comedy #dark comedy #grief #dealing with grief #dealing with loss #loss of a loved one #dealing with death #death #tw death

[snackzimmerman]

sk8 the infinity really said transfer student trope rights

#they're either in love or engaging in the most iconic queerbait of all time #like... who reacts this way with their platonic buddies #admittedly i do walk around holding hands with one of my friends sometimes but that's just cause she likes holding hands with literally eve #she queerbaits #sk8 the infinity #sk8 #renga