#i can't tell who the other two are because of those hats

[sports-on-sundays]

people change / CL16 / Part 1

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - You wish you could just forget about the relationship. It's hard when you had a son together.

Warnings: 'Y/s/n' means 'your son's name', you are free to imagine the son as whatever age he acts because I leave that unspecified, mention of breaking up/divorce, broken family, censored cussing, getting drunk, toxic relationship, me sucking at writing kids (how do they even act???)

Requested?: No.

Author's Note: This was heavily inspired by the song People Change by for KING & COUNTRY at the end there especially. I listened to it while writing. So you're free to look that up and have a listen. Link to part 2 / Link to part 3

"Hey, sweetie," you say as you buckle your son into the car. "How was your day at school?"

"Fun... But Mama, I didn't know what to do."

"Hm? When didn't you know what to, love?" you ask, concerned.

"Well, we did papers and pictures about our mommies and daddies and our houses and stuff and I didn't know, Mama..."

You stop after he says this, pulling your hands away as they tremble. Your heart, at those words from your son, feels like it's being wrenched out of your chest, and you cough into your arm. "O- Oh, sweetheart..." you clear your throat. "Well, why don't you first draw pictures and write about me and my house, and then you write and draw about your daddy and his house..."

Your son does a pouting face at this. "Mama..." he complains. "Why can't you and Daddy be like other kids' mommies and daddies?"

"Love, I don't think this is the time to be talking about this. Let's just get driving home now." You hate to shut him down, but he's asking too many questions that you just can't answer.

He's asking too many questions that are making you feel too confused and guilty.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?" you smile as you get out of the car to help your son pack his bags into the trunk, and then get in the backseat. You're doing this right outside Charles' house. You're picking him up from his weekend with his dad.

The little boy shrugs as you buckle him in. "I want my grey bag, Mama! Daddy gave me some food for the ride."

"What do you say?"

"Please!" he pouts.

You nod, and give him his bag. Charles is always sure to equip Y/s/n with a bagful of healthy snacks for the hour and forty-five minute drive back home.

The whole ride, Y/s/n is unusually quiet. Even when you try talking to him, he gives short answers and makes no effort to continue the conversation. Which is very unusual from the usually frisky and excitable little boy.

When you get home and go inside, he immediately goes to his room, still not saying anything.

You sigh, feeling worried.

Did...

Did Charles do something?

Even though the two of you separated for big reasons, you've never felt too worried about Y/s/n going to see him every other weekend, except for maybe at the beginning. Over the years, you're pretty sure that Charles has gotten more responsible than how he once was.

"Dinnertime, love!"

Silence.

"Love?"

"I'm not hungry!"

You sigh, the worry sinking deeper. "You should have saved some of your dad's snack for later, then! I made dinner for you!"

Silence. Again.

You walk down the hall and knock on his bedroom door, before gently pushing it open. The little boy is sitting on his red bed. In his hand is his Ferrari hat. He's blankly staring at it.

Oh God no. What did Charles do? What did Charles say? Doesn't he understand the unspoken boundaries about this?

"Y/s/n?" you say gently, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong, sweetie? You know you can tell me. I'm listening."

The boy looks older than he is right now. You feel a sharp pang in your chest as he murmurs, "Why do you and daddy live in different countries? How come I have two houses, two bedrooms... two everything? How come, Mama?"

It takes all you have to not tear up. You wrap your arms tightly around him at this. He leans against you, hugging you back.

"Andre and Alex have a mommy and daddy who live in the same house. How come you and Daddy don't?"

"Y/s/n, it's really complicated, love. But, can I ask... What has got you thinking of all of this, love? What has got this on your mind?" You speak in a very gentle tone, rubbing his back. Obviously, this is upsetting him. Really, though, what kid wouldn't be upset?

Your son looks at you in hesitation. "I'm not allowed to say..."

You feel another pang of worry. "Love, it's okay. You can tell your mama anything."

"But Daddy told me not to."

You swallow nervously. "You're not doing anything wrong by telling me. I'm giving you permission. I can't have you feeling this upset, love. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, even if your father told you not to." Y/s/n is too much of a good kid. You don't know where he gets it from.

You wipe your son's watering eyes, trying to reassure him. He sniffs, before saying, "You won't tell Daddy?"

"Tell Daddy what?"

"What I'm gonna tell you."

You bite your lip. "Of course not, love. I won't tell your daddy."

He nods, before saying, as he starts to really cry, "Daddy cried, Mommy... I wasn't allowed to know but I couldn't sleep because Daddy forgot to read me my story. So I was going in to tell him to snuggle me... because I couldn't sleep. But Daddy was crying..." Y/s/n sniffs, and continues blubbering, "Daddy was talking to someone on the phone and he was really sad... I don't know why Daddy was crying, Mama. He said he was sad because he missed you and me to the person on the phone. Daddy was so sad so I don't know why we don't make Daddy happy and why can't my mommy and daddy be like my friends' mommies and daddies?" He lets out a sob, snuggling into you. You're speechless as your son continues, "I went and gave Daddy a hug because he was sad. He said he missed you. He asked me why I was up and said I was in trouble and said I wasn't allowed to tell you he was sad and crying. He said even daddies cry sometimes," he sniffs and lets out another sob. You hold him tight, eyes wide. "I asked him how come he was sad and he said he didn't know and he loved me and then we went to bed. I don't get it, Mama."

You try not to tremble.

Fighting off tears, because the last thing Y/s/n needs is to see his mom cry on top of it all. Not sad tears, though. Angry tears.

Why can't Charles just let go? He's so possessive and obsessive. F*ck him and his Monaco flat and his boat and his Ferrari and everything f*cking else. Why would he let his son see him so vulnerable. Doesn't he care? F*ck him.

Why can't he just let go?

You walk down the hall of the mall, your son's little hand in yours, heading to the food court because eventually, Y/s/n's complaining about how 'I'm hungryyyyy!' got too annoying, and you gave in.

Suddenly, though, his little hand slips out of yours. You look down at him in confusion, starting to say his name. He starts running away. You're about to go after him, but suddenly freeze when the little boy shouts, "Look, Mama, look! It's Daddy! Daddy! Hi, Daddy! Hiiiii!"

And sure enough, Charles Leclerc stops as soon as he sees his son, a grin spreading across his face. He adjusted his cap to be lower on his forehead, clearly trying to go incognito here. But he bends down, and the moment little Y/s/n reaches Charles, his father scoops him up into his arms, standing up with an, "Auwgh," noise, as if it were really hard for the strong man to pick up his light son. Charles holds him tight, in an embrace, before saying, "What's up, buddy? Where's your mama?" Y/s/n points, and Charles looks up.

Your eyes meet. And everything stops. The voices, the music, the whir of the escalators, the lights, heating, and air conditioning all making their own sounds, the people walking past- everyone else living their own lives disappear.

And it's just you and Charles, eyes locked, staring at each other.

Heartbeats or seconds or minutes, you don't know. You feel a certain electricity that hurts. Shocks you. Maybe Charles likes how it feels though. Maybe he loves that, with his adrenaline seeking lifestyle. Because, after all, he doesn't look away.

But in the same way, you don't either.

Finally, it's your son that breaks the trance you seemed to go into with your ex-husband, by saying suddenly words that stress you out and tear you apart at the same time: "See, Daddy?" He pats his father's cheek, which has a little bit of facial hair. "You don't have to cry anymore... You don't..." Suddenly, he looks a little scared, realizing he wasn't supposed to say that, but finishes softly with, "You don't have to miss Mama anymore, Daddy, because she's right here..."

There's almost a pleading in your son's eyes. A longing. You feel yourself start to tear up, but you strive to hold them back. Y/s/n. He loves us. He loves his parents so much. He just wishes they would love each other.

Charles shakes his head in surprise, stroking Y/s/n's hair, "Buddy, it's okay. Don't worry. I'm okay. I don't-" he falters for just a moment before finishing quickly, glancing to you nervously, "I don't miss Mama anymore. Don't worry."

"But I miss Mama." At this, both of you look at your son in confusion.

"But Y/s/n, Mama is right here," Charles says carefully, taking more steps closer to you. "See? Do you want to go with M-"

"No!" your son suddenly snaps, and says as if it is the most obviously thing on earth, "When I'm with Daddy, I miss Mama. When I'm with Mama, I miss Daddy. I don't wanna miss you guys!"

All the sudden, it's too much for you. All of it. Before Charles can do anything else you say quickly, your voice obviously cracking and your breath shaky, "Charles, can you take him home today? I'm sorry-"

"Of course, Y/n. I-"

You turns, jogging away. You need to get out of there.

But as you run out, you hear Charles call after you, "Y/n! Y/n, wait! Y/n, we're going to talk on the phone tonight, okay? There's things we still need to go over!"

At around 3:00 A.M., Charles calls. While you're worried to answer, you're also relieved. The fact that you're still awake at 3:00 A.M. shows how much anxiety you've been feeling about getting this call from Charles.

When you pick up, you murmur softly, "Hey, Charles."

"Sorry I'm calling at this hour. God. I just had to make sure Y/s/n was sound asleep. I'm, uhm," he pauses to clear his throat awkwardly, and continues in a softer, more delicate voice, "I'm sure Y/s/n told you about the phone call the other weekend..."

"Y- Yeah, he did. What did you do? Did you scare him into not telling me? He was crying," you say, your voice becoming harder and harder as you speak.

"What?! No! I just asked him please not to tell you. That was it. Maybe he was crying because..." Charles trails off.

"Because why?" you snap, although the sinking feeling within tells you exactly why.

"Y/n..." he sighs loudly. "Because our son loves us and doesn't get why... w- we... don't- don't, uhm.... love each other." The facts that he falters so much on that last phrase, that it's so hard for him to get out, sends a pit in your stomach. Of dread, and anger.

And without another hesitation, you just say it. "Charles... you still love me, don't you?"

There's silence over the phone. Sickly, disgusting, terrible silence. The anger rises up in you higher and higher, like a pressure, trying to push you on your tipping point. So finally you snap, probably way too loud, "Charles, what the hell! F*ck you. I hate you, you f*cking asshole. You're too much of a f*cking coward to even say it! Just like you've always been!" Your voice gets louder and louder. "Just like you've always been! Too much of a f*cking coward to admit anything! You tricked me! You had me thinking everything was peaches and cream, but it wasn't! You were being a terrible person and played innocent, and whenever I asked you anything, you did the same exact thing you still do. You just keep silent. Charles, I know you'll never grow, I hate that my son has to see your sorry ass every other weekend, and if I knew it wouldn't break his sweet little heart, I would wish your pathetic silent self would just fall off the face of the earth so I didn't have to ever have to listen to your stupid, pathetic silence ever again."

"Y/n, I-" You hang up. Charles doesn't try to call back.

Years ago.

Charles came in and stumbled into your arms, as if you were the one that needed to take care of him. You were tired, having stayed up with your fussy baby boy nearly all night, with no help, and you wanted to cry. You didn't want Charles to stumble in, drunk, right into your arms, as if he was the one who needed help. No. He was the one causing the problem. He had reeked of alcohol. He didn't get drunk this often, and you knew exactly why he was doing it now, although he'd been too scared while sober to admit it to you. It was the argument you'd had, and his way of coping was going out, getting drunk, and coming home to his wife and baby at three in the morning, wasted. Now, while drunk out of his mind, he was able to murmur, his words slurred tremendously, "Y/n... I'm sorry, love... You should've come with me tonight. I had fun... We could... make up for that argument..." He had a sickly seductive tone in his voice.

You felt rage fill up in you. Did you forget about your son? The son that you and I created together? Did you forget about that? Instead of letting any of that rage escape you, you just brought him to the bedroom and helped him into bed. You left him, walked to the living room, sat down on the couch, and held your aching, tired head, pulling at your hair, as tears escaped your closed eyelids.

Your world was spinning. Everything was wrong.

The argument. You had started it. And yelled at him. About how he was a coward and never told the truth. Even though you loved him. You thought. You must've. You... You had a son together. You yelled at him for telling you he was working when he wasn't. You yelled at him that he wasn't helping you at all and that you were going out of your mind. You said you felt like a single mom because he was never around, never helped, and never tried to. He lied and told you that an event he had mentioned that you were excited for was cancelled because he had found out more things about the event that he didn't want to deal with himself. He was becoming more and more selfish, showing who he really was more and more every single day. It just made you think- what is he doing when he gets drunk? What else is he being dishonest about?

Eventually you stopped loving him. You loved your son much more, so you broke it off. The final tipping point was when you suspected he had cheated, although nothing had ever proved that. But that was when you finally broke it off.

He was heartbroken. He held onto you. No, Y/n, please don't do this. I'll try better. I'll try better. You had told him that he had been saying he'd try better for the past year.

He had cried. Maybe even sobbed. You only saw him sob twice. Once was one time when he was drunk out of his mind, and the other one was that night when you told him you were breaking it off. I guess Y/s/n has seen him sob a third time, though.

He had said to you that he still loved you. You had said if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this. And that was the end of it.

Or so you thought.

You can't believe you're here. You can't believe he convinced you. You set up for your mother to watch Y/s/n while you drive into Monaco and.

Well, yeah. Go to Charles' God-forsaken house. To meet with him. 'Have a talk' as he put it. 'In real life.' So he can 'see your face and expressions.' And 'understand better.'

Charles opens the door. He's wearing a black t-shirt, grey jeans, and has his usual assortment of different bracelets on his wrists. And a disgustingly expensive watch. As you walk into his (beautiful) flat, you see that it hasn't changed much since you left and moved a couple hours closer to home, back in France. Just a little cleaner. But just like how it was when you lived here, there's still a stray toy on the floor here and there. As if reading your mind, he bends down, picking up a few of them, before putting them in a basket in the corner of the room. He runs his hand through his messy, wavy brown hair, looking a little awkward. "Why don't you sit down?" he asks softly, gesturing to the couch by a nod of his head. "Make yourself... comfortable... Uh... I made some cookies. Consider it a peace offering. And I... I really tried to make them good, too. I'm just going to go grab them." And before you can think or react, he's walking out of the room to grab them.

When he returns with the cookies, he sits down next to you, holding the little plate out to you. You hesitantly take one, nibbling off a little bite, nervously glancing to Charles. "It's fine..." you say. In your taste, too sweet (and slightly gooey) but besides that, alright. "But I just want to get this over with, okay? Charles can we just... have this talk? So I can go?"

Your ex husband stared down, before nodding slowly. "Yeah... Of course." He falters, before murmuring, "I love our son just as much as you do. And it hurts me to see him-"

"My God, Charles, shut up. I know what this is about. It's about you being selfish," the bitterness in your voice surprised even yourself, "You're being selfish because for some twisted reason, you still want to be with me, and you're using my son's pain as an excuse. You're just as you've always been- selfish, lying, and making excuses."

"Y/n, no it's not!" he snaps, his eyes pleading. "I- I- I want the best for our son."

"Charles, do you still love me?"

He stares at you. Hesitates. Falters. He inhales a shaky breath, before looking down at his hands in his lap. "All these years I've never dated another woman. All these years the guilt has crushed me."

"Shut up!" you spit. "It's not guilt, Charles, of hurting me your or son. It's guilt because you wouldn't wanted to be with me longer. It's selfish. You're f*cking selfish!"

He practically begs, "Please, babe, just listen-"

"What did you just call me?"

He stares in surprise at what he just said. He swallows. "I'm sorry- It- It just came out..."

You glare, and shout, "You still love me, you dick! I hate you! You- You cheated on me!"

He cuts you off by grabbing your arm suddenly. There's a desperate look in his eyes. "Y/n... No, I didn't... I swear it on my life.. On my job, on everything I love... I would..." You're shocked to watch as a singular tear gently rolls down one of his cheeks. He's holding back more. The salty, warm tear drops right onto your palm. You wipe it off. Charles eyes plead with you as he murmurs, his voice cracking, "I would never cheat on you..."

You stare, trying to form more words, not knowing what to say.

But Charles continues, "I don't know where you got the idea I cheated on you... I know it was hard and I was being..." Suddenly there is guilt and grief openly painted all across his face. "I was being a terrible person... Giving up the most lovely, sweet wife and baby I could've ever asked for... I was young and stupid, Y/n...Y/n... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I swear I mean it...

"I would do anything for this to work."

Another tear falls.

"Y/n... just listen... I need you to hear me out..."

He sniffs. He seems so broken. Vulnerable. Honest.

"It's all my fault, Y/n. I know. I know. I'm sorry. And I get if you're afraid... I would be, too... but, Y/n... I wish you could just understand that... that...

"Y/n, people change."

Author's Note- Just wanted to say if you guys liked this and want a part two, I'm totally open to writing that! Let me know if you want a part two, and if you have any ideas, shoot! Like should I end this happy? Or not...? And in what way? If no one gives me ideas, I'll just come up with it, but you guys are extremely welcome to let me know!!! Thank you! <3

#"f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #formula1 #charles leclerc #charles lecerc x reader #leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #sharl leclerc #sky sports f1 #ferrari f1 #ferrari #charles #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula racing #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine

[mcmansionhell]

a fine selection of bonker facades from the DC suburbs

Howdy folks! In honor of Halloween, here are some of the scariest houses currently for sale in the ever-cursed suburbs of Washington, DC. It's been awhile since I checked in on this particular hotspot, and once more, it did not disappoint.

I'll just get this one out of the way. Long-time McMansion Hell-heads are well aware of this monster estate in Potomac, MD, once allegedly owned by a particular professional athlete who will not be named, because the house should suck on its own merit. The only nice thing I can say about this house is that the designers kept the materials and colors consistent, which adds some unity to what is, in reality, five turrets in a trench coat.

Some things, the economists tell us, are too big to fail. This is not one of them. Let's move on.

Many McMansions exist to mock the concept of architectural consistency and historical continuity. This is one of them. About every single type of expanded second-story window elaboration exists here: bay window, covered balcony, juliet balcony. None of them work. The house can't decide if its 19th century eclecticism or tony DC Georgian/Federal cocktail. The random cupola merely adds insult to injury.

I don't know where realtors learned how to do photoshop, but whoever taught them should have their Adobe licenses revoked. There's a certain type of McMansion I call a "hat house" - which is exactly what it sounds like. It's a house with multiple bays or masses and each has its own special hat. This is one of the most egregious examples because all of the hats are different shapes and scales. Not even the most Disney Theme Park pink sky and fairy lighting can mitigate the controlling aesthetic influence of hät.

No compilation of Bad Facades would be complete without at least one Frankentudor™. Rich people in America really like to harken back to the days of feudalism, yet uglier, more drab, and using materials mostly derived from petrochemicals. The lighting is not helping this house, which is about as gloomy, hulking, and bloated as they come.

I have some fondness for houses that derive new, inventive forms of being ugly. The spread eagle McMansion is one of them, two oblique wings with no real core. A corner lot specimen. This one is especially weird, with the quadruple portholes, the windowless bays, the mall foyer, and the hipped roof that's not quite clipped, complete with tacked on gables. Kind of neat, sad to say.

I know most of you won't agree, but I actually believe this is the worst McMansion of the set. The absolute banality of it, the out-of-proportion everything, the compound-like demeanor, the nonsensical spacing of the mind-numbingly identical windows. The most infuriating part is that whoever designed this had some kind of order, continuity, proportion in mind and just failed utterly at it, like Sideshow Bob stepping on all those rakes. I hate it!!!!

When rich people try to make overly-inflated temples to their dumb piles of money, it's deeply satisfying when they end up looking like this house, which is just a pile of roof and wall tacked on to the worst proportioned portico imaginable. Classic McMansion Hubris. Let us all laugh.

Now we're getting into the more eldritch horror part of the list. Some houses make me wonder if I have the same set of eyeballs and conceptions of what "a house" looks like as other people. This one is playing dress up games with foam stickers. It looks like Steve's shirt from Blues Clues. It abuses the prairie muntins, which is an insult to my chosen hometown of Chicago, Illinois. Bad house.

Not enough time is devoted on this blog to bad modernism, though it would be rather generous to call this house modern. It's more like postmodernism trying to remember what modernism looked like and tripping down a flight of stairs collecting random masses and windows on the way down. Houses like this give modern architecture a bad name. It's borderline libel. Also it looks like it was made out of cardboard.

This brings us to our final, and objectively worst house:

I don't even know what to say about this freak of architecture. I don't know how it came together or why. I don't know what it wants or even pretends to do. It is a horrorshow. Gables protruding from random places, stealth roof fragments, windows too small for the walls they're embedded in, a weird cathedral-like entrance, the mosquito-infested pond, the worst example of realtor sky I've ever seen, all of it is terrible. It's haunted. Trick or Treat, but without the treat.

Anyway, that does it for this installment. If you're curious about more McModern badness, this month's Patreon bonus post will be to your liking!

Happy Halloween and Día de Los Muertos!

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including extra posts and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.

#architecture #design #mcmansion #mcmansion hell #bad architecture #ugly houses #dc suburbs #90s architecture #2000s architecture #y2k #urbanism #virginia #maryland

[amsgrey]

Price to Pay

Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Part Two to Useful Skills

I have spent forever trying to come up with a title so settle for this very bad one. I also can't tell if I hate this or not but the plot is so fucking bad.

synposis: Kaz learns what you mean when you say your power is your weakness.

warnings: not proofread or edited, mentions of stalking/following someone, Kaz being an asshole to others but not you bc cute, Injury and talk of Pain, reader passes out, kind of generally angsty crap for a minute and then fluff

There were pros and cons to being a crow and one of the big cons was stakeouts in the freezing cold.

Kaz had ordered you and Jesper to stake out one of his chosen targets, a lawyer who had a mistress in the Lid. Mostly it meant that you and Jesper had followed him from his cushy apartment in the financial sector to a gambling den and then to his mistresses. Keeping Jesper out of the gambling den had been the hardest, but now as you trailed behind him in the barrel's bustling streets, you were cursing the cold and damp Ketterdam weather.

You and Jesper were dressed in Komedie Brute costumes, Jesper had on Mister Crimsons' cape and mask, hiding his well-known face from those in the barrel. You were covered in the Scarab Queens dress, the shimmering green catching the lights of the barrel. Although the costume was meant to keep you hidden in the crowd of faces, you couldn't help but curse it for how cold it was. Jesper didn't look to be faring much better, his hands were tucked tightly in his pockets, trying to keep them warm. You had no pockets, having to rub your hands together occasionally.

Your wrist had healed more since the incident at Hellgate, but the cold brought out a phantom pain that you were sure would never quite go away.

"Look," Jesper stopped on the sidewalk, pulling you along with him to look up at a building. Like most of the other buildings in the barrel and the Lid, the house was leaning suspiciously into its neighbour. You could almost imagine how damp it would be on the inside, with wallpaper flaking and steps creaking dangerously.

You couldn't see exactly where Jesper was pointing, "What am I looking for?"

Jesper rolled his eyes, moving your chin to make you look at the window he had in his sight.

"Oh."

Standing in the light was the lawyer you had been tailing, he was without his hat and coat, smothering a woman in robes.

"Kaz was right," Jesper mumbled, leaning back on the wall while you both watched.

"Kaz is always right," You replied, joining him against the wall. You would have to wait for a while before asking questions. It would be too suspicious to walk straight in after him.

Jesper looked you up and down, "Aren't you cold?"

You fixed him with a glare, "What do you think, Fahey?"

The sharpshooter chuckled.

"Why in Saint's name did Kaz have to give me a disguise without a coat," you grumbled, crossing your arms so you could tuck your fingers against your side for more warmth.

Jesper gave you a smirk, you knew what he was going to say before he did, "Because you look gorgeous, love."

You huffed, "I'll look less gorgeous when I'm frozen solid."

You and Jesper stayed until the crowds thinned and the lawyer made his way home for the night. You had snuck into the foyer of the building and learnt the woman's name from the mail, pinching one of the envelopes to give to Kaz. After that, there was nothing more to learn. You and Jesper had made the trek back through the barrel to the Slat. Jesper wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you wandered past the pleasure houses and dens. At this time of the night, men were drunk with pleasure and wine, boldened in their crude behaviour. They would stumble out of brothels with sickly grins and harass any woman who dared to walk alone. You quietly thanked Jesper as he held you close.

Entering the Slat, you made your way through the Dregs to where the crows were sitting. You fell into a chair next to Nina, tossing the mask onto the table and stealing a piece of her food.

Jesper joined Wylan in the booth, secretly leaching his heat off him.

"Well?"

You pulled the envelope you had stolen from your dress, ignoring the surprised looks from the rest of the Crows.

"That's where you hid it?" Jesper said as he watched you hand it over to Kaz.

You shrugged, "I didn't have pockets."

Nina grinned, knowing the struggle herself, "I do it all the time."

Matthias tried to hide how he choked on his drink, coughing dramatically. His face was turning bright red as everyone stared at him.

Kaz ignored the Fjerdan, focusing on the paper in his hand. "Did you have any trouble?"

"No," Jesper answered for you.

"Although next time I would like a disguise with a coat," You added, "My hands have never been so cold."

Kaz glanced from the paper to you for the first time, silently taking in how you were flexing your freezing fingers. He nodded once, then disappeared towards the stairwell.

The next morning you were surprised to find the Bastard of the Barrel at your door. He held a brown paper package in one hand, leaning on his cane with the other.

He handed the package to you, "For the job tonight."

"Thank you," You replied, staring down at the package slightly confused. Kaz let out a quiet hum in acknowledgement, then turned and walked away, his cane clicking as he made his way down the stairs.

Your curiosity got the better of you, and you closed the door and sat on your cot gently opening the paper. Neatly folded in the package was a pair of gloves, completely black like Kaz's. You were shocked, gently unfolding them to reveal the cuff's black embroidery.

Like your shadows.

You couldn't help the grin, slipping your fingers into the gloves and stretching your hands to feel how they reacted. They were almost perfectly fitted, just tight enough where they kept you warm but not so tight that you lost movement. You tried to keep the butterflies in you at bay; he brought me gloves.

Saints, if you couldn't keep your schoolgirl feelings at bay you'd be useless on the job.

When you climbed down the stairs to meet with the other crows, they all noticed your new gloves. It was impossible to hide anything from them.

Wylan grabbed your hand, looking at the small details, "These are new."

You rolled your eyes, pulling your hand back, "Can a girl not get new things?"

Wylan grinned, "Did you get them? Or were they a gift?"

"From a certain Mr Brekker?" Nina pressed, joining in on Wylans teasing.

"I have no idea what you idiots are talking about."

Kaz had decisively paired you with him on the upcoming job. You had frowned and asked if you were better suited to help Matthias and Nina lay the trap, but he had simply ignored the suggestion.

You tried not to be frustrated, Kaz hardly ever explained himself to anyone, why would he do so for you?

So you followed along with him willingly. He was dressed in his usual sharp clothing. The tidy waistcoat and dress pants with his usual black coat. He ordered you to dress similarly, like a wealthy woman. So you put on the nicest skirt you owned, borrowing a white blouse from Nina and pulling your coat over it all. You wore the gloves Kaz had given you, trying not to overthink about what was probably a harmless gesture.

You stood to Kaz's right, watching the shadows around the square as you waited patiently for the lawyer to fall into Kaz's well-laid trap.

Wylan and Jesper would be somewhere beyond the square, watching your back in case anything went wrong.

"Do you like the gloves?" Kaz broke the silence.

It took you off guard, "Oh, uh, yes." You flexed your hands, "Thank you."

Kaz nodded, "I had them made by a fabrikator so they would not hinder your summoning."

So that's where he had slinked off to last night.

You had to compose yourself, biting your tongue to ground yourself. Kaz Brekker was not some crushing boy giving you his favour through a gift, it was no doubt a strategic move as part of his plan. Then why did the butterflies in your stomach refuse to cease?

Get a hold of yourself.

You brushed down your skirt, pretending to be distracted by making yourself look presentable rather than looking at the boy next to you.

Another few minutes passed and the lawyer came stomping around the corner into the square. He was joined by two other men, no doubt enforcers he had paid to protect him.

"Mister Herling."

The lawyer looked torn between being afraid and irritated, "Brekker."

When you first found work in the Barrel, you were surprised that everyone seemed to know who Kaz Brekker was. After a week in the pub, you heard almost every rumour that the barrel had spun about the bastard of the barrel. The whispers that barmaids told, Dirtyhands doesn't need a reason.

Herling looked the two of you up and down, "Your muscle, Dirtyhands?"

You smiled sweetly, "Is that so hard to believe?"

The man on Herlings left chucked, his eyes lingered on your body. You shuffled your feet, trying to hold back your disgust at the man. You spared a glance at Kaz, who had noticed but chosen to ignore the man. Instead, he lifted his cane and flexed his fingers, like a silent challenge.

The lawyer waved his hand, "What business?"

"You work for Geels," Kaz stated, "I need to get a message to him."

Herling's face morphed from passive annoyance to one of outrage, "What makes you think I would do that for a barrel rat like you?"

Kaz lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug, "Everyone has a price."

"You think you can bribe me?" Herling cried, clearly insulted and angered by Kaz's comment. "Respectable men do not take bribes."

"Good thing there are no respectable men here."

You held back a laugh, this was not the time to appreciate Kaz's dry humour.

Herling let out a noise, halfway between a growl and a huff. "You are a special kind of messed up, boy."

Kaz didn't seem at all phased, he calmly explained what he meant by 'price'. The women you and Jesper had learnt about last night, proof that Herling was not a respectable man and had something to offer unless he wanted his wife to know.

"I don't know who that is," Herling hissed, but he couldn't hide his panic.

Kaz stretched his fingers that held his cane, the leather of his gloves flexing with his fingers.

"The thing about the Lid," Kaz spoke, "Is that no one cares if people disappear. This is Ketterdam, after all, space is valuable."

Herling put it together, he stepped forward and raised his fist, "If you lay a hand-"

Kaz smacked his hand away with his cane, Herling recoiled, stepping back and cradling his hand like a child.

"Stop making empty threats, Herling, and start making deals."

Kaz struck a deal with the man and you both waited for him and his men to leave before turning and walking out of the square. As you both exited under the arch, Wylan and Jesper fell into step beside you.

"You think he'll follow through?" Wylan asked, his hands clutching the straps on his satchel.

Kaz didn't have to explain himself, "Yes."

As the four of you picked your way through the streets back towards the slat, you started to become aware of something moving in the shadows. You were so focused on the movements, you didn't even realize Nina and Matthias had joined your group.

Finally, you couldn't stand the feeling of being watched anymore. You stopped, turning around to search the street for the two figures you knew were around.

"Y/N?" Nina asked, standing next to you.

The others stopped a few steps ahead, frowning at you.

"Someone's out there," You said quietly to Nina. The heartrender reached out, searching for heartbeats to verify your feeling.

She frowned, turning back to the others, "Y/N's right."

Kaz joined you both, looking out over the silent streets. Kaz didn't have to say anything, two men came slinking out of the shadows to face him.

They were the same two men the lawyer had at his side, but now their sleeves were rolled up, guns in hand. You realized they weren't just paid goons, they were black tips.

"You don't know when to back off, Brekker," One of them hissed.

Kaz looked indifferent, "I could say the same for your boss."

One of the men cocked his pistol, pointing it at Nina, "Move your hands and you die, witch."

Nina rolled her eyes, holding her hands up dramatically.

Two more men drew out of the shadows to join the other Black Tips. They too held up guns.

One of them held his gun trained on Jesper and for good reason. Jesper would be able to get you all out of this with a spin of his pistols, with a gun trained on him he couldn't help anyone.

"No getting out of this."

You spared a glance at Nina, who stared back at you with a silent response. Don't do it.

You knew you shouldn't, Kaz would be able to get you out of this. He was at your side, so you turned to him. He had his scheming face, trying to put together a plan.

"Stadwatch?" You whispered.

"Probably paid off," Kaz replied.

You looked back to the four men, who were arguing over who would get to drag Kaz to the boss.

"Y/N," Kaz saw straight through you, "Don't."

You didn't have a choice, Kaz knew that.

Without dwelling on it too much, you reached out. You could feel the shadows bending to your will, they pulled towards you, amassing around your feet and climbing towards your hands. You drew your hands up in a loose arc when your hands were almost touching, and the shadows formed a loose line. The four men looked up, shocked silent at the view in front of them.

You raised one of your hands, then threw it down in a fast slash. Your shadows formed into a shape blade, reaching out and cutting all four men down. Although not the first time using the cut, it felt the same. A rush of exhilarating power, like nothing could stand in your way. Then there was the crushing pain like your body was trying to repel your powers. The feeling was always there after summoning, but it was mostly bearable, a sharp pain behind your eyes or a dull ache between your shoulders. The cut always took the most out of you, your mother had called it unnatural, merzost. No Grisha was supposed to have such power.

You watched the men's bodies fall, split cleanly in two. Then the pain was too much, you fell to your knees, gasping for breath.

Nina and Wylan were at your side instantly, Nina quietly reminding you to breathe as she held your hand tightly. She was paying close attention to your heart rate, it was beating so fast she could only wait for you to pass out. She pulled you close when you lost consciousness, your body going limp on the damp cobblestones.

You were in and out of consciousness the whole walk back to the slat. Jesper and Matthias were holding you up, trying to make it look less suspicious than it would if they had you strawn over their shoulder. You could hardly keep your feet moving, Jesper and Matthias were mostly holding you up.

When you finally got back to the slat, Jesper dragged you to your room, a tiny sliver of space on the third floor. He lowered you to the bed, dropping you less than gently.

You were still consumed with pain, not sure of what was going on, "Thanks, babe." You muttered.

Jesper laughed, "You are very welcome, love."

Jesper left the room, letting Nina take his place at your side.

"Tell me what I can do to help," She pleaded, pained by seeing you in such a state.

"Nothing, Nina," You replied, letting out a sigh.

"Are you sure?" She tried again, gently brushing the hair off your feverish forehead.

"I'll be fine, Nina," You replied, "I just need to sleep it off."

Nina nodded, knowing she wouldn't be able to get much more from you. She stood and quietly left the room, passing Kaz in the hall.

Kaz lingered for a moment before stepping into the room. You could feel his presence, not bothering to open your eyes to see him.

"Boss."

When Kaz didn't reply you opened your eyes, looking at his face. He looked almost concerned, you wondered if you had imagined it in your state because as soon as you made eye contact the look was gone.

"You said that your abilities were your weakness," Kaz said after a long pause.

"And now you see why."

Another long pause.

Kaz nodded once, "Thank you."

You might have appreciated those words more if you hadn't been half asleep. Kaz never said thank you.

"Don't thank me," You said, "I need to be gone by this time tomorrow."

It didn't take a genius to see four bodies cut in half and know what it meant. Only one summoner could use the cut and by exposing yourself tonight you had no chance but to run.

"You don't have to," Kaz spoke so quietly you almost didn't hear him, "You could stay."

"If I stay," You replied, closing your eyes and covering your face with your arm, "I will be hunted, killed."

You could hear Kaz move, the click on his cane. He had stepped closer. "I won't let that happen."

The rational part of you knew that Kaz would be powerless to stop however came after you. But you were exhausted and slightly delirious, so the only thought that passed through your mind was, he wants to protect me.

"I guess I can stay," You drawled, finally losing the fight to unconsciousness.

The next morning when you woke up you were tucked under a blanket, your boots by the end of your bed and the gloves Kaz had given you folded neatly on the bedside table. You had the same butterflies, but this time it felt more real. You weren't imagining things, at least you had hoped you weren't. Surely that hadn't been some kind of terrible dream.

You needed to be sure, forcing your tired body to rise from the bed and slip on your shoes. You hesitated at the door, knowing climbing upstairs to Kaz's room in the attic would be gruelling. You forced yourself to do so anyway, taking the stairs slowly. When you reached the top, you felt lightheaded, your body betraying you after last night's show of power.

You knocked once on Kaz's door, entering after he allowed it. When you stepped in you had to reach for something to hold on to, your head swimming.

"You should be resting," Kaz spoke, watching you hold yourself up on the metal bedframe. He could see how pale you looked, your face was full of colour not long ago. He thought briefly about how he wished to see you back to yourself again. Then he was shutting that thought out of his mind.

"What you said last night-" You ignored Kaz's order, trying to stand a little taller and feign strength. Kaz could see through the cracks easily.

"Was the truth." Kaz stood, leaning on his cane as he got a little closer to you, worried that you might just keel over, "I won't let anyone hurt you."

Relief crashed over you, washing away some of the panic that had clouded your mind.

You and Kaz held each other's gaze for a while longer, content in the silent company of one another.

You knew you should rest, your body was screaming to sit or lie down. It would only follow your orders for so long. But you weren't sure you would make it down the stairs without falling, which would definitely make the pain in your head worse.

Kaz seemed to come to the same realization. He gently grabbed your arm, holding tight to your bicep to lead you to the side of his bed. He helped you sit, then returned to his spot at his desk. There was something unspoken, Kaz didn't have to tell you to stay because you could see the question in his eyes. You let out a small sigh, nodding and deciding to lie on Kaz's bed.

Kaz clearly didn't mind, his attention returning to his papers. You watched him work, taking in how his eyebrows furrowed as he read over reports and expenses. You hadn't realized until now that he wasn't wearing his gloves. His slender fingers flipped through the paper like a dealer would cards.

His hands are stained with blood.

What a ridiculous rumour to believe, you thought. Sitting at his desk before the morning light, he looked like any other businessman. An honest man with no worries about the harshness of this world. You didn't much care for honest men, because there were hardly any. You had done terrible things in your lifetime, last night had not been the first time you had killed and without a doubt, it would not be your last. You did not deserve an honest man. With the powers you held, no one could be fully trusted. You had known that your whole life.

But lying on Kaz's bed, watching him work, you were struck by something much scarier than starting to trust him. You were starting to feel safe.

taglist

@unicornfairytail @winstonthecow22 @mxtokko @lonelywitchv2 @kazbrekkers-gloves @intoanothermind @dontstopxx @beautifulbows924 @lu123sworld @slutforcoffein @u-wakatoshii @yujyujj @swhispererr @khaleesihavilliard @nyctophiliiiiaaa @thedelusionreaderbitch @adorawritesalot

#kaz brekker x you #kaz and jesper #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #soc #six of crows #six of crows x reader #jesper x wylan #jesper #six of crows jesper #jesper fahey #nina x matthias #nina zenik #six of crows nina #six of crows wylan #the crows #sab s2 spoilers #sab s2 #sab spoilers #sab #wylan hendriks #wylan van eck #wylan #soc wylan #soc kaz #matthias helvar #matthias #soc matthias #soc duology #shadow and bone x reader

[allfearstofallto]

Let's do something different and imagine things the other way!

Yandere! Reader x Scaramouche

TW: Yandere obsessive themes, very tragic back story, mention of character death

A/N: just a short idea from the drafts! :)

You're not obsessed, you tell yourself after your months of rigorous training, after joining the Fatui, even after working so hard, that you earned yourself a vision that lay on your hip. You're normal. You're not constantly thinking of the man, who's visage is like a blurry memory of your past, but if you saw him, you'd know for sure that it was him.

How many years ago was it? You weren't sure you could count such a thing, but you remember being too young to understand death. Too young to get why your parents, or even the rest of your humble village wasn't waking up. Why red was dripping from their lips and their fingers felt cold. You weren't old enough to understand that no one was left, no one but you.

It didn't take long for hunger to set in. Too small and weak to even start a fire, you ate what little scraps you could find. You couldn't leave. Not even when the village ran out of food you could eat, the rest rotting away. Or when the well ran dry. Or when the smell of decay set in and there was nothing left for you to mourn. You couldn't leave because you had no where to go. You wouldn't even know what direction to head in and the fear of setting off into the wilderness with no destination was scarier than just waiting out in your village.

He arrived on a particularly cloudy day, one where the wind smelled of rain. A part of you thought you made him up, but when your big eyes met his and he looked upon you, you knew he was real. He looked disgusted at your display at first, then a bit sorrowful. He stayed beside you as the rest of the armored people he came with went through the houses, breaking doors and windows like they were looking for something.

An apple was dropped into your lap. The first fresh fruit you'd seen in days and you scarfed it down like an animal, even licking the juice from your fingers.

"You were left behind too, huh?" He questioned, making you tilt your head in confusion. It was only now when the pains of hunger weren't ripping through your body did you truly get a good look at his face. His skin pale and indigo hair covered by a large hat. When a raindrop fell and hit your nose, he lifted that hat from his head and placed it on yours, shading you from the impending downpour, "I can't tell if you're weak or strong, having lived this long."

He took you with him, letting you sit next to him as the two of you rode on the back of his carriage. He didn't have much to say and you didn't have much to talk about, but you still found yourself staring at him. Drinking in every inch of his features, every part of his face and body. He was dressed lavishly, with clothes so vibrant, yet so different than what you knew. He was perfection in the human form, even young you could see that.

You were left at a random city, at an orphanage. So far away from home, but similar at the same time. His hat was lifted from your head and your hair was ruffled by his long fingers. And then he was gone. You stayed at the door and watched the way the tassles of his hat swayed in the wind. You remembered everything about him. Including his name. Lord Scaramouche, they called him.

With the way you talked about the man who saved you all those years as you aged, it was no surprise that you joined the Fatui. It was no surprise that you got a vision. It wasn't even a surprise when you cheerfully waved goodbye to your siblings at the orphanage, telling them that you were off to Inazuma, where you knew his clothes were from.

He didn't look any different. That's all you could think about when you were bowed before him, head lowered as a sign of commitment. He looked over you and the rest of the new recruits in disgust, a face that made most fearful, but only made you heart beat faster, a blush forming on your face. You'd found him. And he was as breath taking as he was before. Only this time, you didn't intend to ever let him leave your sight.

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere reader #yandere reader x character #Scaramouche x reader #yandere imagines

[onlyjaeyun]

𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄�� 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲

࿏ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

࿏ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐀𝐔 (𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫), 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐬/𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐀𝐔; 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, (𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞) 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

࿏ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

࿏ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫...

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

Once you get your manager's okay, you quickly retreat to the back of the shop to get yourself changed and sneak out of the back door in hopes of the oldest Sim brother not even noticing your absence.

For a moment you feel your heart pounding in your throat from how anxious and nervous you are; the thought of having to face the man who you've been warned about definitely playing with your nerves and you can't help but imagine the worst.

You definitely regret only telling Heeseung about it, yet you're still convinced keeping it from Jaeyun for now is the best way to go with it. He's been dealing with this for the past two weeks and has finally felt calm enough to spend some time outside of his apartment, you definitely aren't going to ruin this for him.

Of course you thought about the possibility of his brother following you, yet you still hope he just drops it and leaves once you're on your way.

However, destiny doesn't really tend to be on your side in cases like this, which is why the first person you run into as soon as you walk through the back door happens to be none other than Sim Chan.

"Hello", he calmly begins and intentionally ignores your loud gasp and facial expression of surprise and shock.

Your first instinct is to just keep walking.

You don't know him, you don't owe him anything, not even the words of a greeting.

Yet, you seem to underestimate his persistence.

"Please, just a single minute", Chan suddenly says and takes off his baseball hat, reveals dark blonde hair and turns into the reason you start noticing the family resemblance to the other Sim boys.

The big, round eyes full of emotion, his slightly bigger yet straight nose and every single one of his sharp features.

You gulp harshly as the guilt takes over you, yet for some reason you can't seem to make yourself go away.

And as all those stories, the ones Jake, Sunoo and Heeseung have told you about him, the heartbreak the older brother has made his younger one go through and all the resentment in the young parent's voice whenever he talked about him comes to your mind, you take a deep breath and straighten yourself.

"Look", you sigh and run a hand through your hair, your phone vibrating in your pocket as you try your best to maintain the eye contact, "talking to you and hearing you out is not my place, in absolutely no universe. Please, don't bring me into this. Jae and Yunie mean a lot to me, I can't risk losing them."

Your words are honest and genuine, and from the way Chan starts nodding in defeat, you can tell he's actually understood just how serious you are about this.

"Yeah, that's what I thought", he replies calmly and lets out a deep sigh.

"Please, leave them alone", you whisper and try to swallow the knot in your throat at the images of a heartbroken Jake filling your mind and despite the sudden rage rushing through your body, you remain as calm as possible.

"Or at least give them time. Jaeyun hasn't healed from your betrayal yet because he hasn't had the time to actually cope with it. All these years he had to be strong and calm for Seyun , so please", you take a step back and let your eyes meet his for one last time.

"I'm sorry for following you like this", Chan mumbles and takes a deep breath, "I guess I really am desperate. This won't happen again and please don't tell Jakey about this."

"That's not going to happen", you reply quickly, the mere thought of betraying the man you've been losing your heart to sending chills down your arms, "I'm going to tell him about this because I actually owe him a lot more than I do you. Have a good day."

You don't wait for his response before you quickly make your way to the other side of the street and jump into the next taxi despite your destination only being a ten minute walk away.

As soon as you come to sit down and tell the driver where to go, you let out a loud sigh and reach for your phone, your heart skipping a beat as soon as you see Jake's name on your display.

Just as you're about to call him back, your phone starts ringing again and at the sight of the two Sim brothers on your phone, you can't help but feel your breath hitch in your throat from the actual adrenaline rush you just went through.

"Hey", you say and try to calm down the rapid beating of your heart to hide the nervousness from the young parent, knowing he'll catch up on your shift in emotional state rather quickly.

"Hey, pretty girl", Jake replies and you can literally hear the smile on his face, his voice almost instantly putting your soul at ease and you can't help but sigh again.

"I'm on my way to you guys!" You try your very best to sound as enthusiastic as you are but a million thoughts are rushing through your mind and you've never struggled to distract yourself from them as much ss in that particular moment.

"We know", Jaeyun chuckles and fills your chest with warmth, "and we're really excited. But why didn't you wait for us? You worked so hard today, didn't want you to make things even more exhausting for you."

His gentle and thoughtful choice of words makes you push your lips into a pout and the urge to just fall asleep in his arms slowly becomes absolutely unbearable.

"It's okay, my manager let me go a little earlier and this shift wasn't as bad as usual", you explain and start looking around for the group of boys as soon as the car starts driving along the beginning of the park, "and I took a taxi so no walking for me."

"Oh? Is that you then! At your left!" His sudden exclaim of excitement fills your ears and with wide eyes you try to follow his directions and just as expected you quickly spot a smiley Jaeyun making his way to you.

You start chuckling and tell the taxi driver to stop before you hand him the money and get out of the car once you've said your goodbyes and thank yous.

You start waving at the boys behind Jake's figure, your excitement growing as soon as your eyes fall to the tiniest of them and finally you feel yourself letting go of what happened just a few minutes prior.

However, it's probably also because of the way Jaeyun is quick to reach for your hand and pull you into a tight hug, his strong arms embracing your body almost instantly and the feeling of absolute security surrounds you just as fast.

You don't say anything as you bury your face in his neck snd return the tight hug, holding onto him a little longer and quickly stopping him from letting you go.

"Is everything okay, pretty girl?", Jake says and you hear the worry wavering in his voice, overshadowing the excitement easily.

You just nod and don't feel bad or ashamed for taking your time with the hug because it's exactly what you need and as if Jaeyun knew, he just sighs and gently caresses your back with his big hands.

After what feels like an eternity you pull away and look at him with soft eyes, his naturally excited gaze roaming your face attentively and before Jake gets the actual chance to analyse your facial expressions, you take his face into your hands and pull him into a gentle yet passionate kiss.

Despite his intial shock, Jake quickly reciprocates and pulls you even closer to his body, eliciting a soft gasp from your throat and you love how you can actually feel his cool skin slowly heating up underneath your fingertips.

You lose yourself in the feeling of his lips meeting yours, the way he sighs and even grunts into your mouth as well as his taste slowly coating your tongue and yet again leaving you completely lightheaded.

Jake lets out another loud sigh before he pulls away and lets his lips find your forehead, mostly to hide his flushed cheeks but also because he has to calm himself down.

"Wow", he chuckles and looks at you with slightly hooded eyes, nervously pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and kissing your forehead again before he comes to stand next to you.

"You're going to drive me crazy." His words make you laugh, which instantly dies down as soon as you're met with the sight of all five boys standing in a line just staring at the two of you with wide eyes, except for Yunie.

Little guy's just excited to finally spend some time with you after staying at his gran's most of the week to be with his cousins and you're more than just grateful when he starts running towards you.

"Hey, handsome!" You laugh and get on your knees with widened arms to quickly pull him into a tight hug.

"If anyone makes a comment I will shave your eyebrows off and wax your leg hairs when you're asleep", you press through gritted teeth to make it sound like you're joking, yet from the way you're actually glaring at them, the boys know to keep quiet. At least for now.

"Do you wanna play soccer with us, Noona? You can be on my and Jay Hyung's team!"

And who are you to deny a request as sweet as this one, so all you do is nod and take your bag off to place it on the little blanket the boys had brought along before you finally let your gaze shift to the older brother, who's still busy getting over what just happened.

"Let's go, losers", you say and make a run for the ball, your words finally gain the attention of them all and before any of them can even crack another shit eating grin, you and Seyun run towards the goal and unofficially start the next round.

Taglist: @writingmochi @raikea10 @moonlighthoon @ajayke-reads @bldelaine @rikisly @enhaz1 @ineedsomezzz @ikeu4life @theskzvibe @kpoprhia @jayzdaze @a-l-i-y-a @catnoirsbitch05 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @end0rchans @ddazed-lhs @sunflowerbebe07 @heeverseblog @voidbeomgyu @heerinnie @vanillabeanwaffle @mimikittysblog @l0vee-l3tters @teawithbucky @fluerz @spilled-coffee-cup @3amstarlight @jungwon-xo @smg-valeria @elicheel @bobariki @beomgyusonlywife @sumarchived @aeminju @sprngfeverr @tya0

(No addition to the taglist without a visible indication of age on your blog!)

#enhypen social media au #enhypen smau #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #jake sim #jake sim x reader #jake sim social media au #sim jaeyun #jake sim smut #jake sim fluff #jake sim angst

[silent-stories]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐌 - 𝟐

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie graduated and you can't not go tell his mom.

Warnings: a bit of angst, fluff

Part 1

Eddie's gaze fell on the flowers on the desk in your room as soon as he entered, and he immediately froze a few feet away from the door.

They were potted with water and tied by a thin blue rope.

They were pretty.

This meant that someone other than him had bought you flowers and the thought immediately caused him a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Was it someone from school?

Was he the blond guy who always smiled at you when you entered class? Was he the blue-eyed guy who always waved at you in the hallway? Or maybe it was the jock who was always staring at you in the cafeteria?

Did you accept flowers from them? From someone other than him?

"Who got you flowers?" He asked much more shyly than he would have liked, almost as if he expected that one day you'd find someone better than him.

"Oh, no. That's not what it seems." You started explaining, getting up from your bed and walking towards him.

Eddie looked at you suspiciously. "Who?"

"Me. I bought those flowers."

"For who?" He asked again, even more confused.

You rolled your eyes. "Since when you don't trust me?"

"Sweetheart I trust you, the thing is-"

"For your mom."

Eddie suddenly stopped talking, staring at you with those big chocolate brown eyes that you started loving the moment you first saw them.

Did you really buy flowers for her?

"I wanted to talk to you about this...I wanted to ask you if you wanted to visit her again, it's been a long time since we've been there together and I thought we could go and tell her that you graduated. Because I know she would be so fucking proud of you. But only if you want too, of course."

Eddie stood silent and you immediately feared you might have said the wrong thing. "We don't have to, really. I thought maybe you'd like it but we can do another day or if you want to go alone it's more than okay and-"

Eddie suddenly took two big steps towards you and wrapped his arms around you, almost lifting you off the ground in the process, and pulled you close to him.

A smile appeared on your lips as he buried his face in the crook of your neck and in your hair and inspired your smell, closing his eyes. "I love you fucking so much."

You giggled at the way he was basically collapsing onto you and caressed his back with your hand, tracing imaginary patterns and running it up and down his spine.

"Does this mean you want to go? With me?" You asked after a few moments.

"Of course I want to go with you." He whispered without letting you go.

Eddie was holding your hand when you arrived at his mom's grave.

You looked down at the bunch of flowers you were holding, watching a bee fly over them and land on a petal.

You passed them to Eddie as the bee flew away.

He looked at them for a moment, without taking them, then he nodded towards the grave as if giving you permission to leave them in front of it.

You took a step forward, without releasing Eddie's hand and placed the flowers in front of the headstone, murmuring a "Good morning Mrs. Munson" before you both sat down in front of it, like last time.

"Elizabeth." Eddie said.

"What?" It was his mom's name, you knew that. It was engraved in the stone, you only found out about it the first time Eddie brought you there because he didn't talk much about her.

"You can call her Elizabeth." He added holding your hand a little tighter.

You ran your thumb over the back of it, tracing a few circles. "Okay."

"Well, mom...not much has happened since we last been here. My band isn't famous yet. I haven't found a job yet. I haven't-"

"Eddie."

He rolled his eyes.

"Focus on good things."

"I graduated. It was about damn time. They made us wear those awful green tunics and we had those stupid hats on. But I went over it, because I finally graduated. Now I really need to get a job though. My band don't make enough money when we play to five drunks and-"

"Eddie, good things." You scolded him in a playful tone.

The atmosphere was less sad than last time. It almost sounded like a normal conversation you could hear every day.

"Good things..." Eddie repeated, thinking about it.

"Y/N is still with me." He finally said.

"I'm sure you can find better things."

"But you are my best thing."

You smiled. He had said it in a joking tone but he really believed it, you knew it.

"And it's really weird that she's still with me. I mean, she must be really crazy. With all the people out there she's still with me. Taking care of me. And Wayne. And now she's buying flowers for you. Really crazy. And I love her for that."

You brought his hand that still had his fingers intertwined with yours, to your lips and left a kiss on his back. "I love you too."

Eddie smiled. "What did I tell you? Out of her mind!"

You chuckled shaking your head. "It takes one to know one."

A gust of wind blew some dry leaves in front of the tombstone, near the flowers so you reached out to gently sweep them away.

"Thanks for coming." He said after a moment of silence, his brown eyes were soft when he looked at you.

"It's a pleasure. We can come back here anytime you want." You said before your eyes landed on the photo of the woman on the tombstone.

"She looked so much like you, you know?"

You saw Eddie's body tense slightly and you immediately feared you might have said the wrong thing.

"When I was little everyone said I looked like my father." He started. "They said I had his smile, even though he wasn't a big smiler." He added the last part with a bitter laugh. "They said I had his nose. And that I was as rowdy as he was. Growing up I always wished that wasn't true. I always wished I got something from my mom too."

"People must not have given you a good look. I mean, you don't have her hair, she was almost blonde. And you don't have her smile, that's true. But her eyes? You definitely have her eyes. I'd recognize anywhere your beautiful, kind, brown eyes and you got them from her, trust me.”

"You" He said pointing his index finger at you "I know what you're doing, you're trying to make me cry again. And it's not going to happen, okay?"

You laughed at his words as he pulled you towards him to kiss your forehead before whispering a soft "I love you so much".

Then he slowly got up and held out his hand, helping you up to leave the graveyard.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him.

"I love you too." You said raising your head slightly towards him just to catch a glimpse of the smile on his lips.

He turned towards the grave before starting to walk away. "Bye mom." He said in a sweet tone.

You turned around one last time too. "Bye Elizabeth."

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff

[mr-laveau]

People don't take audio RP seriously and I have opinions about it

I can't find the original post but the gist is a discussion on how people don't treat Audio RP as a serious medium of media and story-telling which I agree with. People don't. To mark it with a disclaimer tho-I don't inherently disagree with that post, I thought there were some valid points brought but I wanted to throw my hat in the ring as a VA and as a person who consumed a lot of Audio RP content and still does to this day (I just don't got a lot of time to be a fan and a creator whilst working a job) so here it is, my opinions on why people don't take this seriously and bi-products of that.

To start, I wanna say that Audio RP to me specifically is by its nature very collaborative because I as a VA and writer have to make my character appealing whilst also understanding my audience and what their appeal to my characters are*. It's kinda why I think Erik and the Redacted fandom have such different views on characters and the story-Erik does not have much of a connection with his audience (not hate, just a fact) so things tend to feel flat in some areas versus others-my point however is that I genuinely believe that if you want to make Audio RP, you have to actually understand your audience a little bit, which creates a good segway to my first point.

*if someone doesn't like your character, this isn't to say you're not doing a good job, it just means that people have preferences and their preferences do not align with your character.

Firstly, not a lot of VAs understand the RP(Role Play) part of Audio RP, and it shows. I think a lot of people who make content in this sphere don't take into account the person who's listening to their audios and following along. I'm not going to pretend I know about this but I am going to say that it shows sometimes when you don't understand the core of your audience and it causes people to disengage with your audios because you don't take into account who is listening to your audio (which creates problems like audios which are hard to engage with because of a speaker talking too much/too fast to process anything, issues where listeners are treated less like characters and more like ear pieces and problems where the speaker is written more to show them off than to be engaged with a listener). Really and truly the crux of this is in my opinion is that a lot of people who came into Audio RP, seem to have never RPed with another person or are unfamiliar with those spaces (TTRPG, Text-based Roleplay, Fandom Roleplay and the like) and rather saw an audio RP video and just did something like that (not hating, I started because I liked Castle Audios and wanted to be cool like her). That is not only focusing on VAs, that also applies to the audience, some of y'all are new to this and it shows because some of y'all don't know how to act right*

*That being said, some of y'all don't know how to act right and that is because there's no compendium of ettiquette(/j) for how to engage with this media and that is not on y'all. That said, (lovingly) learn to learn to behave like a listener and less like a spectator.

RP is collaborative by nature because you are creating a character with a narrative for another character who engages with said narrative by role-playing together and creating a collaborative story. Half the fun of RP is that it's a process of two people showing off their dolls and having fun. That is not something that can be said a lot about some Audio RP channels because a lot audios do not take into account their listener as a participant in this process (no, this does not mean the audience has explicit rights to the story, let's calm down there(/j). I will add that Audio RP is different given that the listener cannot directly influence the story like traditional roleplays but that does not take away from the fact some VAs and script writers don't think about who is listening and focus too much on who is speaking.

Secondly, a lot of the audience does not know to engage with the medium and that's a hard pill to swallow because it's not their fault but it is also their fault (/lh). Put down the torches and hear me out. I think that a lot of people who interact with Audio RP do not have the best media literacy and I also think this is true for some VAs. Some people who listen to audios don't read enough into audios on more than a surface level view (which makes for people going "teehee, look at that loser listening to people talk") and some people read too much into an audio to the point that it breaks their immersion and they cannot focus on the audio but have to point shit out (this does not mean that you cannot be enthusiastic about lore and info in audios or notice errors in an audio). To solve this, I just have this to say: expand the media you intake and learn to think critically about what you're intaking and how you're intaking it. TLDR; consume media outside of your usual range and think about that media while questioning the media to see how you feel about it rather than have someone tell you about it. This also applies to VAs and Scriptwriters, it makes your work better, this is a fact of life and I need y'all to see that. Love you all so much and the work you put into this community cannot be understated. That said, everyone sometimes shows a lack of media literacy and awareness and it should be known that it's not just the audience.

Finally, Both creators and fans are trying to make the medium something it's not and they need to stop. This isn't to say you cannot advance or experiment with the medium but trying to make it something it is not will mess with the core idea of what it is, you lose people when you try to do X,Y and Z when you ain't even reached A*. A lot of the audience does not understand the limitations of Audio RP and they need to see what can be achieved within the space and what cannot be done. A lot of creators in the space try do too much and while I get the need to push boundaries, there comes a point where you need to reevaluate what you are trying to make and determine how you are going to do that moving forward. That is not to say you can only make a specific brand of audios and anything other than that isn't Audio RP. No cut that shit out, that is being an asshole. You can make whatever Audio RP you want, it just needs to be audio RP. At the end of the day, the goal is to make an audio where the listener feels like they are a part of it. How that looks can differ and that's okay.

*I'm adding onto this by saying that you can experiment with the medium of audio RP, different genres of it are valid (people like what they like) and there is no one way to do Audio RP and anyone who says there is a way is lying to you.

In conclusion, I want to add that a part of the list of reasons people don't take Audio RP seriously (on top of people not respecting VAs, people not being considerate, people treating Audio RP like they do fanfic and people just being people) is because we as a community are all over the place and don't even enage with our own community right and don't know to respect and treat the medium the way it should be. That's all folks!

#audio rp #audio roleplay #mr. laveau rambles #Some people might say this is a call out and to that; it's not #if i wanna call someone out I will call them out in public and I will call out their full government name to do it/lh #fandom #a bitch will not lie and I am that bitch because there's room to discuss and I can go at length to discuss this too/pos

[fordohyon]

BEAR MASCOT...

PAIRING -

Kim Woonhak x GN! Reader

SUMMARY - (not really s summary but a preview(ish) thingy??)

You sigh as you remove the heavy mascots head, a cool breeze from a fan chilling your flushed cheeks. You notice one of the basketball players standing behind you. Number 23. "I never knew you were a girl," he comments. "Or pretty."

TAGS -

fluff, fluff, and…. fluff!!

WARNING(s) -

mistaking reader for a girl, calling reader pretty, Mutual pining? maybe being too short. English isn’t my first language so please expect grammatical & spelling errors 😭

lmk if i left out anything,, Not proofread!

WORD COUNT - 1.3k

A/N - should i make this into a series??? also plz tell me if there are any grammatical errors or what. I'd also really appreciate it if you give me feedback and reblog!!

It's been precisely two hours since you donned the bear mascot outfit representing your school. You only agreed to do it because no one else volunteered and thought it might be fun. However, the experience has been anything but fun. With only 30 to 40 minutes left in the costume, you are counting down the seconds until you can take it off.

The basketball jersey, hat, and shoes the bear is wearing are decorated with your school's logo, with the school's signature colors of yellow and green accenting the trim, number, and player names. You are thankful that nobody from other sections knows it's you inside the costume; otherwise, you would feel incredibly embarrassed.

You check the time and realize that 20 minutes have already passed. You hope the game will end in the next 10 minutes or so. A few students request a picture with you, and you oblige them. Five more minutes pass, and the game is nearly over. You can’t wait to get out of the mascot outfit and take a shower.

Sweat drips down to your ankles, causing you to shiver. This is the longest you have ever worn the mascot, 2 hours and 10 minutes.

After what had seemed about an eternity, the game finally finished. All of the players and spectators collected their belongings and fled. Except for a handful who freshened up or spent time with their friends prior to heading home, unfortunately for you, Kim Woonhak happened to be one of those individuals, for whom you were growing feelings.

Once everyone had left, you finally had the chance to rid of the ludicrous costume that had caused you to sweat profusely. Though you noticed a few lingering figures in the vicinity, you chose not to approach them, assuming they were likely teachers, janitors, or guards. As you removed the mascot's head, a cool breeze struck your face. you were taken aback to find Kim fucking Woonhak standing there, his jaw dropping and eyes bulging in what appeared to be an utter shock - as though he had just witnessed the most unbelievable thing in his life.  "I... I never knew you were a girl, or uhm.. uhh... pretty!" Holy shit. This is extremely mortifying. You can't even begin to express the depths of humiliation you're feeling. The fact that it involves Kim Woonhak, the person you've had the most obvious crush on since sixth grade, makes it incredibly, excruciatingly, so intensely humiliating. Is it just you or does it seem like the fan isn't working? 

"Thank... you?" The words slipped out of your mouth, your voice wavering with uncertainty. As you fidgeted with the bottom half of the mascot, your hands betrayed your nervousness. The expression on your face told the whole story - a mix of embarrassment, anxiety, and the discomfort of being caught off guard. Sweat trickled down your forehead, emphasizing the redness that flushed your face, a combination of the stifling heat and the overwhelming humiliation of the moment. Woonhak's unexpected presence only intensified your unease, leaving you at a loss for words. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to catch you off guard. I-I was just checking if anyone was here since I was uh, gonna lock up the.. uhm... gym!" Woonhak stammered, his apology filled with genuine concern. He tried his best to shed the awkward tension that enveloped the air but fell short in his attempt.

"It's alright. No need to apologize," you reassured him, your voice trembling slightly. "I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here either. I assumed it was just teachers and guardians. Guess we both got caught off guard." You utter as you took hold of the lower half of the costume, a sudden chill in the air sent a shiver down your spine. The contrast between the hot and humid gym and the cooler surroundings intensified the discomfort, further adding to the already awkward situation.   

Woonhak nodded in agreement, his eyes still fixed on you with an intensity that made you feel self-conscious. You tried to disregard it, but the emotion only grew stronger. You wished you could just evaporate- or at least get out of this sweaty, reeking costume.

As you struggled to remove the rest of the bear suit, Woonhak stepped forward to help. You were grateful for the gesture, but it only caused you to feel more exposed and vulnerable. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but your hands were quivering so badly that you could barely get a hold of the zipper.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, you were unburdened by the costume. You took a deep breath of fresh air and felt the calm draft wash over your sweaty skin. You turned to thank Woonhak, but he was already walking away, his head down and his hands playing with the fabric of his jersey.

You felt a pang of disappointment, but you couldn't blame him for wanting to get away from the awkward situation. You gathered your things and headed out of the gym, feeling fatigued and embarrassed. you couldn't help but replay the uncomfortable encounter in your head, wondering if things would ever be the same between you and Woonhak.

As you make your way out of the gym, you notice Woonhak and his group of friends looking at you. Just as you try to avoid their gaze, he rides up to you on his bike, beckoning you to join him. "It'll be faster if you ride with me. Don't forget to take a warm shower, wouldn't want you to catch a cold. I want to see you tomorrow!" His words catch you off guard, and you can't help but feel a mix of confusion and excitement.

Up close, Woonhak looks even better than you remembered. His endearing smile and delicate demeanor make him seem like a big teddy bear. You hesitate for a moment, recalling the events that happened earlier, but ultimately agree to ride with him. "Uh, okay," you reply, your voice tinged with nervousness. Despite your uneasiness, you're grateful for the opportunity to spend more time with him.

As Woonhak makes his way down the road on his bike, he suddenly turns to you. "Hug me, so you don't fall." he says with a smile. You're surprised by his proposal, but you don't hesitate to envelop your arms around him. As you hold on to him tightly, you feel a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you. It's as if all of your nervousness vanished at that moment, and you can't help but feel grateful for his presence. Being in his arms feels like a dream come true, and you can't help but wonder if this is the start of something special.

As you ride on his bicycle, you can't help but feel a sense of security and contentment. The wind rushes through your hair, and the relaxed breeze washes over your skin. You feel alive and free, and for the first time in a long while, Woonhak's company is enough to make you feel safe.

As you reach your destination, you shift to thank Woonhak for the ride. But before you can say anything, he leans in and plants a soft kiss on your cheek. You feel your face flush with warmth, and your heart races with excitement. You can't believe that this is happening to you - it's like something out of romance fiction.

"Thanks for the ride," you murmur, your voice barely audible. Woonhak beams at you, and you feel a sense of belonging wash over you. Maybe this is the start of something special, something you've been yearning for all your life. As you make your way back home, you can't help but let out a squeal of excitement. You're grateful for the unexpected turn of events, and you can't wait to see what the future holds. But for now, you're content just being in the moment with the person who makes your heart skip a beat.

do not translate, repost on other websites, or take my work. posts on tumblr, stay on tumblr. I do not cross-post my work unless I say so!

#YU’s writing — 📝 #FINALLY POSTING THE FIC THAT I KEEP ON PUSHHIIGN BACKK #woonhak #boynextdoor #boynextdoor x reader #bonedo #bnd #bonedo x reader #bnd x reader #woonhak x reader #x reader #kpop #kpop bg #kim woonhak #woonhak bnd #woonhak boynextdoor #woonhak imagines #woonhak fluff #woonhak scenario #boynextdoor imagine #boynextdoor imagines

[lily-orchard]

How would you make moral choice in a game work?

Break the idea that "Paragon = Good."

Some games try to make moral choices 'better' by just making all your options suck and end with someone getting hurt. Removing the ability to have the "ultimate perfect golden ending." And almost all of them are great if you like that sort of thing, but quickly becomes old hat when you realize the trick.

No, I'd keep the ability to have the "Ultimate perfect golden ending" but make it so you can't get it by just picking the blue text every single time.

In order to make moral choices (or choices in general) interesting, you have to factor in what players are actually going to do. They're not going to think about every single decision they make, they're going to choose "Good" because who wouldn't do that?

And if you don't have binary morality, they're going to pick what faction they side with at the start of the game and make decisions that benefit those guys. And if it's a companion focused game, they're going to pick whichever options make the hottest character take their pants off.

So in order to make choices interesting, you have to break that habit in players. And you break that habit by actively fucking the player over when they think like that.

I find two examples that stand out with this:

One, Viconia's romance in Baldur's Gate 2. If you take the first opportunity to sleep with her, she decides you're boring and tells you to fuck off because you were too easy a conquest.

The second is Kreia in KOTOR 2. In order to get max influence with her and hear everything she has to say, you have to be smart and play smart throughout the entire game. So if you choose all Light Side or all Dark Side, she won't tell you jack shit.

Hell, this is practically a meme because a lot of players couldn't break that habit.

It's actually really easy to gain influence with Kreia: Do things that benefit you and make your life easier. Her entire schtick is "Talk your way into advantageous situations, worry about yourself and let people get along with their business." Needless acts of charity are just as pointless and wasteful as needless acts of cruelty. Especially given the Exile's situation.

By divorcing Kreia's influence (and therefore 90% of the story) from Light Side and Dark Side entirely, players now have to consider every decision they make. This works if you like hearing what Kreia has to say (which I do) and you'll carry that consideration into other games.

So if you force the player to make mixed decisions in order to get the best ending, then they start having to figure out how to get the best ending and what decisions influence that, divorced from Good and Evil entirely. Bear in mind, however, this only works if you have a traditional binary morality system, and players have to see the "Renegade" indicator flash up on their screen in contrast to the decision they've made.

[sakumz]

____________________________________________

____________________________________________

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. [ scaramouche x gn reader ]

a/n : retired enstars writer!? JAY KAY... tryna dig out all you genshin fans. ahem modern, school au.

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" how dumb can you be? " the indigo man said as he looks up from his notebook while you erase the board.

school is over and you're on cleaning duty. the guy, you're paired up with decides not to come that day to skip out on his duty. you sigh as you recalled what happened moments before everyone left the class.

" y/n! watch me play basketball. I'm gonna beat alhaitham this time, for sure! " cyno offers as he approach your desk with tighnari and kaveh following behind him.

" nah, I doubt you would. alhaitham had a pretty early sleep last night and he even woke up minutes before his usual alarm rings! doesn't that mean he's wide awake? " kaveh questions as tighnari shakes his head at his friends.

" sorry guys, I got clean up duty. why don't yall stay back and help me, " you give them a cheeky smile to which they immediately look away from you.

" h-hey now, " you start as they slowly back away.

making a dash to the door before you can grab anyone by the arm, hearing tighnari shout a " sorry! gotta go! " well at least one person is sorry.

snapping back to reality, you're done with the board. you make eye contact with hat guy. has he been staring at you, this whole time? how embarrassing! puffing your cheeks out as you look the other way, you hear his chair being pulled away from the desk. he approached you slowly and then grab your cheeks with one hand. making you suck in a breath with how close, you two were.

" w-what? " you stammered as you look away from his piercing stare.

" you're pretty cute, yknow. "

" how shameless can you be... " you mumbled as he finally let's you go. he exits the classroom as you're left with your thoughts and the empty classroom.

was that a confession? no, he didn't say he likes or love or admires you what...

the next day and what felt like weeks, was draining on its own. scaramouche and you rarely and barely talked about what happened that day or even held a simple conversation. is he mad? embarrassed? was it a joke he pulled on you and he's far from embarrassed to even talk to you or he felt bad about it? all these questions but you won't get an answer, knowing he's a stubborn man.

currently eating lunch with the tcg gang ft. alhaitham and watching the tcg gang play tcg aka just cyno playing against tighnari, kaveh can't help but look over your furrowed expression.

" are you mad because you're not playing the card game? " he starts as the rest then looks over at you, even alhaitham put his book down to stare at you.

" what? no, continue playing. " you quickly try to shoo away all the attention, even putting your sandwich down, to make a swatting motion.

making alhaitham uncharacteristic chuckle at your action, tighnari takes little peeks at you as you all continue what you were doing before lunch ends.

" hey, if there's something up... you know you can tell me right? or the boys, aren't we your... you know, trustful buddies? minus cyno, he's not worth that title. " tighnari grabs your wrist as the three continued to walk forward to class.

" I'm fine, really ? "

" that isn't convincing. there's clearly something going on, do you hate us? is it boy prob- "

" yes, it is. now stop it, we gotta go to class! " you hope he'll stop bothering you with all those questions. but truth be told, he's invested.

passing notes to you, isn't helping you get away with your scaramouche problem. reading your paper conversation with tighnari over and over, you're surprised cyno hasn't turned behind to take a look at the exchange. only alhaitham of the group has taken notice and even started to talk in the paper.

tighnari : boy problem, who is the boy?

y/n : scaramouche...

tighnari : dam wtf!?

y/n : SHUT UP!! he said I was cute

alhaitham : wth...

tighnari : indeed wth!

y/n : you guys ain't helping... this why cyno and kaveh are better than yall.

alhaitham : do you want me to tell scaramouche, you like him back?

y/n : you better shut it or I'm burning all your books and notes! >:(

tighnari : homie, you left the poor boy hanging. he def thinks you hate him.

you crush the paper conversation note as tighnari gave you one last look before focusing on the lesson. maybe both were right...

" hey you coming? earth to y/n~ " cyno sings as he pinches one of your cheeks.

right. it's after school, and who is on duty? scaramouche! he starts doing his clean up duty with nilou. you look over to him at the board from your desk as your gang of friends stands around your desk.

" you idiots, better get out soon. can't you see it's my turn to clean? I wanna finish this as quickly as possible. " scaramouche says as the five left the classroom and started conversing outside.

" sorry, you guys can go without me. " you say as alhaitham and tighnari give each other a knowing look while cyno and kaveh side eyes the three of you.

" call me when youre home, okay sweetie? " tighanri pats your shoulder before grabbing both kaveh and cyno arms and walking away before they could ask you any questions.

" goodluck, " alhaitham bids goodbye as he walks behind them, leaving you alone.

you decide to wait at the entrance of the school, one where scaramouche will go to once he's done cleaning. it took about thirty minutes and you can see the indigo man walking towards the entrace.

" fancy seeing you here, " he greets to which you shy away from.

" need something? " he asks as he stands infront of you.

" um, last time... why did you say what you said? "

" that you're cute? "

" yeah. "

" my guardian said I should be honest with my feelings so I did. didn't expect to be avoided and ignored though, are you that stupid to not be able to interpret what I meant? " he jabs your forehead with his index, making you stumble sightly.

" hey now, if it was a confession. at least do it properly! "

" well then, I like you. go out with me, would ya? " he blushes slightly as he looks away but extends his hand forward for you to grab.

" I said it so what do you say? don't leave me hanging! "

" yeah, sure I'll go out with you. " you blush back as he goes a slight deeper hue but a smile tugs at his lips as he replays in his head, your words. all's well, ends well.

---

a/n : wanna explore fontaine with me? ( asia server ) I need genshin friends 😭😭

#sakumz.pdf #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

[canirove]

My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 8

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Masterlist

This year everyone had outdone themselves with the Christmas market, making it look like something from those cheesy movies, and Julia was loving it.��

She had already bought an ugly jumper to wear on Christmas day, a few ornaments for our tree, and now we were looking for one especially for me.

"You are living with us now, which means that you deserve to have your own ornament to put on the tree" Lucy said. "It must be something that represents you."

"What was yours?" Rúben asked her. He was looking so cosy and handsome with his nice coat, his hat and his scarf... It was impossible not to stare.

"A shark."

"A shark?" I chuckled.

"That's what one of my teachers told me when I finished my career, that I was a shark. So I took it as my animal” she shrugged. “What's yours?"

"A cat" Rúben and I said at the same time. 

"Oh, twins!" Julia giggled. 

"Twins indeed" her mum said. "Though Rúben, I think you are more of a tiger. Because of your size, I mean."

"It's not the first time someone tells me that" he grinned before both he and Lucy turned to look at me.

"Let's see if we can find twin cats for you!" Julia said, grabbing me with one hand and Rúben with the other. Now she was the one being my guardian angel.

But after checking most stands and not finding anything, she finally gave up. 

"Mami, can we go ice skating? I'm bored."

"Sure. But I'm afraid that’s something Rúben isn't allowed to do, right?"

"I'm afraid not. But don't worry, Julia. We'll keep searching for those cats while you and your mum have fun" he smiled.

"Oh, perfect. We'll meet later where they have all the stands with food so we can have that hot chocolate. See you, guys" Lucy said before disappearing with Julia.

"Should we continue?" Rúben asked. 

"Ok" I smiled. Or tried to. I was alone with Rúben. At a Christmas market. Looking for ornaments for my tree. Why did this look like a date the two main characters of a romantic movie would have? 

"You know, if we can't find a cat, maybe we can find a piano" he said. "I know it is something kind of bittersweet, but you wouldn't be here if it wasn't because of it."

"I guess" I said, checking one of the stands and seeing a familiar face. "Is that..." 

"Uh?"

"Come" I said, grabbing his arm and walking towards the stand. "That's your friend John, isn't it?"

"That is him, yes" he chuckled, checking the ornament. This stand had personalized ones with both City and United's players, and they actually looked pretty cool. "Do you think they'll have mine?"

"Hello, can I help you?" the owner of the stand said.

"We were wondering if you had..."

"Oh, you!" the man said with a big smile. "I know who you are! Looking for yourself?"

"I actually am, yes" Rúben replied.

"I think there are none of yours there, let me check down here" he said, opening a box behind him. "Yours sell really well, especially among women. Wonder why” he chuckled. “Here you are."

"Oh, my God" I said, looking at the ornament the man was showing us. "Do you make them yourself?" 

"I do, miss. Do you think I make him justice?" he laughed. 

"This tiny version of him is much better" I smirked, looking at Rúben through the corner of my eye. He was rolling his eyes but also smiling.

"The good thing about this one is that he will fit under your tree. The real version is too big and there would be no space for other presents” Rúben said.

"Who says I'm asking to have you under my tree?" 

"Who says you aren't?" he replied with that smirk. "We'll take it."

"Oh, wonderful" the man said. "But it is a gift."

"No, no, I can't accept that. We are paying for it."

"But you are... You!" the man said, trying to not catch people's attention. "I can't make you pay for this!"

"You spent your time and money making it. It's the least I can do" he replied, his wallet already in his hand.

"Ok, then" the man said, putting the ornament on a small package. "My son won't believe me when I tell him I sold one of these to the man himself."

"Why don't you take a photo together?" I said. "That way you'll have some proof to show to your son."

"Oh, no, there is no need. I don't want to bother you anymore, have people recognise him, and ruin your date."

"We aren't..." I began.

"It'll be fine, don't worry" Rúben smiled. "Can I ask you something?" he said after I took a few photos of him with the man.

"Of course” he replied.

"Do you know about any stand that sells cat ornaments? We are looking for a couple."

"I don't know if I've seen any, but there is one that sells like cat miniatures with fur and everything. Kids love them, they aren't creepy” he laughed.

"We'll check it. Thank you very much, sir" I said.

"Thank you both" he replied. "And Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas" Rúben smiled.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I'll take over now" Lucy said, picking Julia from Rúben's arms. After meeting with them again and finally having that hot chocolate, she started to get tired and didn't want to walk anymore, so he carried her all the way back home until she fell asleep. "Thank you very much, Rúben."

"No problem.”

"You can keep the welcome party going, tho. There is no rush to come home" Lucy winked before closing our apartment's door. Well, technically it was hers, but...

"Do you want to come in?" Rúben asked. "We've been walking for a while, you may want to rest your feet."

"Sitting down and resting my feet sounds like a wonderful idea, yes" I said, following into this apartment. Despite being the same as Lucy's, Ruben's looked very different. And not only because there were no toys laying around. 

"What do you think?"

"It looks... It looks like you."

"What?" he chuckled.

"I didn't imagine you with a house full of stuff and furniture of different colours."

"Oh, you mean that I have a boring house because I'm boring."

"That's not what I meant and you know it" I said, sitting down on his couch. His very comfy and soft couch. "Oh my God."

"Comfortable?"

"You can't even imagine. Can I lay down?"

"Make yourself at home" he chuckled.

"This is the best, Rúben. Who cares if it's boring?" I said, closing my eyes.

"Don't fall asleep."

"Too late. This is it. See you in a week."

And maybe I didn't see him for a week, but half an hour...

"Good morning, sunshine" he said when I opened my eyes. He was sitting next to me, my feet on his lap. 

"What... what happened?"

"You fell asleep."

"I did?"

"Yup."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. But I guess I was way more tired than I thought. What time is it?"

"Almost dinner time. Do you want to stay? I can order something."

"Ok."

"Just don't fall asleep again" he smiled, putting my feet to the side and getting up.

"I'll try not to” I smiled back.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Don't forget this" Rúben said, giving me the package with his ornament.

"I thought this one was for you?"

"I'm not putting my face on my tree” he laughed. “Besides, we agreed you were the one putting it because the real me was too big."

"That's what you said."

"Does that mean that you will be asking Father Christmas to find me under your tree?" he smirked.

"If you come with that sofa, maybe" I said, matching his smile. And then we just stared at each other in silence while smiling, no awkwardness between us. At least until his phone rang.

"I better go pick that up" he sighed.

"I... Yes, you should."

"Good night, neighbour" Rúben said, opening the door with a little bow like Roger always does.

"Good night” I replied, trying really hard to not start smiling like an idiot and miserably failing.

#ruben dias #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

[dreamofbecoming]

part two, this one is still mostly stobin and pre-steddie. the first part does provide some context, although i imagine you could figure most of it out yourself, but i'd recommend reading it first anyway!

ao3

part 1

platonic stobin, mentions of steddie

rating: t

wc: 3k

---

The conversation dies down and Steve goes back to filling bottles to hand off to Robin, eyes on Dustin where he's still goofing off with Munson. Good, he should get to have as much fun as he can. This is what he should be doing. What they should all be doing. Steve hates that these kids have to be fucking…soldiers so much of the time. He hates that he can't do anything to shield them from it. Not that they'd let him if he could.

Maybe Robbie has a point, about regular teenage life stuff being pointless right now, but god, what the fuck? Why should it have to be? He's 19! He can't even buy a drink yet! Robin is still in high school!

Fuck it. They should get to be kids and think about stupid pointless stuff, too.

"So I know you said you didn't want to talk about your love life, which is fair, but if I keep thinking about dying I'm gonna lose my shit, so you wanna talk about mine?"

She raises an eyebrow at him. "Oh, are we talking about how fucking weird shit has been between you and Nancy?"

Ah, fuck, that backfired almost immediately.

"What? No. Definitely not. Ok, it's been weird, but it's not a thing, ok?" She looks even more skeptical than before. "It's not! I mean, ok, maybe it is," she snorts at him, which. Rude. "But it's just like. Regular weirdness, ok?"

"What the fuck is regular weirdness?"

"You know, like, exes who haven't talked in a while in a high-pressure situation weirdness. The kind of weirdness anyone would be having in our shoes. Normal weirdness!" He throws his hands in the air, agitated.

Munson looks over at the sound of his raised voice, lifting an eyebrow and smirking. What is it with everyone raising their eyebrows at him today? He's being normal! Normal and regular! It's not his fault everything around them is weird and that makes his normal look weird by comparison. He's not doing anything wrong, so get off his nuts already! Geez!

Steve isn't sure how much of that very normal and regular monologue shows on his face, but it must be some because he can see Munson laughing at him as he goes back to playing keepaway with Dustin's hat. Bastard.

"Ugh! No, I don't want to talk about Nance. Like I really super don't. There's nothing there, it's done, it's over, there's nothing to say."

"Yeah, I wouldn't want to talk about that debacle in the bus either. Six kids, Steve? Really?" Oh Jesus. He was really hoping no one had heard that.

"Bobbie, please, why are you torturing me?" He rarely deploys the Sad Eyes on Robin, mostly because they don't work especially well on her, which is insane, because they work like an atom bomb on literally everyone else. He may have left King Steve behind him, but he has plenty of skills left over from those days, not to mention he looks as good as he always has. He knows what he's working with, ok?

Anyways, this is a moment to pull out the big guns, which means Sad Eyes are a go.

As usual, they aren't as effective on Robbie as they are on other people, but she does know him well enough to realize that if he's pulling them out, it's out of desperation, so she takes pity on him anyway. Whatever. He'll take the win.

She sighs, and rolls her eyes indulgently, but she's smiling just a little. He can tell. God, he loves her. He'd burn the world down for her, is maybe going to have to. He doesn't know what he'd do without her.

"Alright, bubba, I'll bite. You want to talk about your love life, but you don't want to talk about Nancy. Whatcha got for me?"

And, oh. Shit. This is the part where he's going to have to say it out loud. He hadn't planned this far, mostly was just anxious to get the swirling feeling in his chest out into Robbie's hands because he knows she can keep it safe, mostly just trying to wipe that awful, scared, defeated look off her face, but now he has to actually do the thing. He has to say it out loud, on purpose, the way he hasn't since that day in her bedroom when his whole world shifted a little to the left, and she was the only thing holding him steady.

Fuck. Ok. He can do this. It's just Rob. No one else is close enough to hear them, and Robin will always keep him safe. She'll never let him be alone.

"So, uh. You know the, uh, the thing? That we talked about that one time?"

"Yeah, we talk every day, I'm gonna need a bit more than that, bubs."

"The, uh. The thing we decided we didn't have to talk about right away? Because it wasn't important? Or, no, it was important, but it wasn't, um. What did you say? Relevant. It wasn't relevant to my everyday life?"

"Relevant to your…oh! Oh shit! The thing! The thing we talked about! That thing!" Her eyes are wide and so so blue and her hands are flailing a little, like she wants to pat him down for injury even though that's not remotely helpful. He carefully takes the bottle out of her hand and stuffs the rag into it himself, setting it on the ground where she can't dump gasoline on herself. She smiles a little sheepishly.

"So what about the, uh, the thing?" She lowers her voice like she's in a goddamn spy movie, leaning close and waggling her eyebrows. She's so ridiculous. He loves her so much.

He gives her a pointed look. She shakes her head in response, looking confused. Jesus fuck, she's gonna make him say it.

He tries one more time, bobbing his head at her to try and make his facial expression more forceful. He doesn't miss his old crowd, really, he doesn't. He does, however, occasionally miss being around people who were constantly alert for even the smallest social shifts, who he could have a whole conversation with using nothing but subtle changes to the shape of his mouth or the width of his eyes. He loves Robin and Dustin more than life, would kill or die for them, has proven it several times over, but Christ on a cracker they wouldn't know a social cue if it whacked them in the head with a hammer.

She's still furrowing her brow at him, so he sighs, and gives in. "I think it's maybe become…relevant. I promised to tell you right away, remember?"

Her eyes go even wider than before, and she thwaps him in the chest with the back of her hand. Hard. Ow.

"Dingus!" She's whisper-shouting, but he still doesn't think anyone is close enough to hear. "What the hell!"

"Ow, Robbie, Jesus, watch the open wounds!"

She flutters her hands around his middle, like she can fix his bandages through his jacket. She does look apologetic, so that's something.

"Sorry, sorry, fuck, sorry! Are you ok? Sorry. Just, what the hell! What? Who? When?!"

He smirks at her. "What, no why or how?"

"I'm going to set you on fire with one of these cocktails if you don't start talking, Dingus, I swear to god!"

He's laughing, she's so much fun to rile up. God, he hopes he doesn't have to miss this. He hopes he gets to keep this much, at least, when they're done. He'll probably go crazy otherwise.

"Ok, ok, I won't tease, I'm sorry. So I guess, to answer your questions, uh…I found a boy to crush on, who the hell do you think, and I promised to tell you right away, didn't I?" He counts them down on his fingers while he answers them, because if he can't act like a little shit to her then honestly, what is even the point?

"Right away…holy shit. Holy shit! Steve!" She looks frantically out at the field, where Munson has now knocked Henderson over and is sitting on him, wearing his hat and crowing victory, while Dustin flails wildly on the ground. Thank fuck neither of them are looking this way, because holy hell she isn't subtle.

"Robbie, don't look, what the hell! Do you want him to know we're talking about him?"

"Oh, so we are talking about him? Eddie "The Freak" Munson?"

He cringes a little at the reminder of his earlier dismissal. "Alright, ok, so I maybe didn't give him much of a chance at first, but the Upside Down changes things, you know that! It did for us, right?"

She looks thoughtful. "I guess, yeah. So go on, loverboy, what do you like about him?" She's grinning and waggling her eyebrows again. Ugh, this may have been a mistake. She does owe him for the Tammy Thompson thing. Still, there's no one alive he'd rather talk about this with, and he has to talk to someone, or he's going to explode, and they have a…wizard…demon…thing…guy to kill. Whatever. They have killing to do, so he needs to get this off his chest so it's not clogging up his brain.

"He has…really nice eyes. And really nice hands." Robin lets out a soft "Oh, ew," before he glares at her and she motions for him to go on. "He's funny, and weird but in like, a charming way? Kind of like you, but different. The way Dustin is weird and charming like you, but different, you know?"

"You have a thing for nerds, Dingus."

"Ugh, maybe, yeah." His mind drifts back to Eddi- Munson. Gotta keep calling him Munson, at least until they get out of this. Can't afford to be distracted. "He's scared out of his mind, but he's coming along anyway, which is the kind of brave and stupid this whole group kind of runs on. He thinks he's a coward but he's not. Going back to school instead of dropping out is brave. Trusting us is brave. Acting like he does even when everyone hates him for it is brave. I wish I had been brave enough to do that, you know? Maybe I would have dropped the King shit earlier. And he's good with the kids, which you know I'm weak for. I don't know, Robs, I just…I want him to like me, you know? I want him to be impressed by me. Is that stupid?"

When he looks up, Robin's eyes are wide and shiny. She looks surprised, and a little scared. That's not good, probably, but he can't take back anything he said. He meant all of it.

"It's not stupid, bubba, it's not stupid at all. I guess I was thinking…I don't know. That it was like an adrenaline thing? Like a 'you're hot, we're in danger, I'd rather think about making out with you than dying' kind of thing? Like what Nancy was clearly doing with you earlier, you know?"

"Ugh, Robbie, I so don't want to talk about Nancy right now, please," he groans.

"Yeah yeah, I know, whatever. I just mean, it doesn't really sound like that's what's going on with you, for Eddie, right now. It kinda sounds like you, you know, like like him."

"Like like him? What are we, 12?"

"You know what I mean, Dingus, it just sounds like there are actual feelings here, not just sexy thoughts."

He shifts a little on his stool, feeling kind of exposed, but it's ok. It's just Robin. "I mean, yeah, I guess I kinda do? Have feelings. Or maybe I will? I'm kind of trying to hold them off, I guess, until we get out of here, you know? I barely know the guy, honestly, but also every time this happens I end up bonded for life to someone new, so why not him this time? I mean, the first time with the demogorgon even got me and Nancy back together, and we were like, donezo, for real, after that thing Tommy did to The Hawk. This shit is better than superglue, you know?"

Robin barks out a laugh. She squares her shoulders and puts on her best announcer voice. "Do you have trouble making friends? Looking to join a new crowd, but can't find a way in? Try Hell Beasts! Our near-death experience package will create lasting trauma that will bind you together forever! There's no escape now!"

The two of them collapse into giggles, drawing the eyes of several their friends scattered around the field.

When she composes herself, Robin gives him a soft smile. It's one of his favorites. Almost no one ever sees it but him, and not very often. "Well, I guess we had better all make it out of this in one piece, then, huh? So we can do all our sad gay pining together."

"I dunno, I think maybe I have a shot," he says thoughtfully, eyeing Edd- no, stop it, Munson, where he's flopped on the grass next to Dustin, chatting happily.

Robin boggles at him. "What the fuck do you mean, a shot? Are you- oh god, are you just gonna tell him? Steve!"

"Wh- Not right away or anything! And not for sure! I have to figure out if he's flagging on purpose first!"

"If he's whatting on what?"

"Oh come on, you remember that one zine that talked about the, uh. The whats it. The code! The hanky code, that was it!" He snaps his fingers in victory, triumphant.

She's still looking at him like he's grown a second head though, so maybe not.

"I don't know, maybe you skipped that one? From what I could tell it was more about men anyway. I think they mentioned that ladies use, uh, caribou. The clip things, you know?"

"Caribeeners? Dingus what the hell are you talking about?"

"It's this thing, right? That like, gay people, gay men, I guess, use to like, signal each other, kind of. It's basically like, you wear a hanky in your pocket, and what color it is and what pattern is printed on it and which pocket you wear it in tells people what kind of sex you like."

Robin looks even more shocked, if that's possible. "What does that even mean, what kind of sex you like?"

Oh, right. Lesbian virgin. Fair enough. "Like, do you like to uh. Give, if you know what I mean. Or receive. Do you like blowjobs, or handjobs, or like. I dunno, weird stuff. Like spit or whatever."

She's waving her hands frantically, her face screwed up. "Ahhhh lalalala that's enough! That's plenty of information, thank you!" He holds up his hands in surrender. She asked.

"Anyway, what does all of...that...have to do with you having a shot with," she switches back to her not-at-all-subtle stage whisper, "Eddie?"

"Haven't you noticed he's had that bandana in his pocket the whole time?" She whips her head around so fast he's surprised he doesn't hear her neck crack. Jesus, Robin.

"Would you chill out? You're going to make him look over here and then I'll have to let Vecna eat me because there's no way I'll survive the humiliation if he hears us, Robin!"

She glares at him. "Don't even joke about that, Dingus. You're making it out alive or I'll kill you myself."

He knows he's smiling adoringly at her, and if Henderson is looking he's never, ever beating those "in love with Robin" allegations, but whatever. "Noted, Buckley."

"So, what, you think he might be...like us? 'Cause of the bandana?"

"I mean, maybe, yeah? I might be crazy, but I also feel like he was definitely flirting with me earlier. Like in the Upside Down, and also at the trailer, you know?"

"Now that I think about it, that "Big Boy" thing was super weird. I figured it was just Eddie being Eddie, they call him The Freak for a reason, right? But I guess that could have been called flirting."

"Right? That's what I thought! And when we were down there, he was like, all up in my space, and he gave me his vest, and he seemed annoyed when I talked to Nance, even though he was trying to push me back to her. Which was insane, I didn't tell you this part Robs, oh my god. I was fully staring at his lips, just laser focused, like I would be on a girl I want to kiss, right? And he won't stop telling me how Nancy is definitely still in love with me and I should get her back! What the hell! Who does that? So I don't know," he sighs, feeling a little lost. "Maybe he isn't into me after all. But I have to at least check, right?"

"I mean, I don't think I'm the right person to ask about that, bubba, but if it goes sideways, I'll burn his house down if you want." She wiggles a molotov cocktail at him, grinning.

"Jesus, Bobbin, alright. Let's, uh. Let's call that Plan B, yeah?"

"Roger that, captain!" She gives him a stupid little salute, and for a moment he's back at Scoops, before everything went shit-shaped, but she's still his Robin, and they're safe and alive and nothing hurts.

And then he blinks again and he's sitting on an overturned bucket in front of a stolen RV, making molotov cocktails with his soulmate, watching his baby brother and the guy he might maybe sort of have a crush on tussle in the grass, hoping against hope they all live to see morning.

He picks up another bottle.

part 3

#stranger things #platonic stobin #steddie #pre-steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #steve harrington & robin buckley #bisexual steve harrington #robin calls steve bubba and steve calls her bobbie and i will die on both those hills #eddie munson #dustin henderson #(mentioned) #part 3 coming soon i hope lmao #missing scene #my writing

[delopsia]

Idk I'm just still feeling soft about childhood friends to lovers with rhett 🥺

Ugh, I miss this concept :( I'm ashamed to admit that it took me a remember which fic I wrote this trope in.

Childhood Friend!Rhett who has been bound to your side from the moment you first met on the playground. Who wore his dad's old cowboy hat and was so much tinier than the other kids his age. Got into trouble for punching the boy who stole your bracelet at recess (he never really learned from those "don't speak with your fists" talks 🙄).

He's there when your date stands you up at freshman homecoming and chases away your tears with ice cream from the shop across the street. He waits by the phone the next year, just in case you need a shoulder to cry on again. You never call, but he's happy that you had fun, even if he doesn't understand why the new guy on your arm makes him feel sour.

You're the first and only person he tells when he enters the rodeo; bull riding. The one sport that frightened your young heart the most, but you scrounged enough money for a ticket, all to see him fall off before the eight-second buzzer sounded.

Weekend after weekend of hopes and traveling, just his best friend, you had called yourself. Because best friends beg to go to weekend rodeos together and sleep on top of each other in the back seat.

They get scolded for snuggling into the same bed and getting separated, you in Cecelia's bed and Rhett in Royal's. Spent too many nights sneaking out of the room to walk around the hotel and texting beneath the covers, because his folks go to bed early, but you two weren't done talking yet.

Because best friends do nothing but think about each other during senior prom, and their eyes grow glassy when they realize their paths split the moment they walk across that crudely built stage. Two hearts who both long to escape this old town, but only one has been given the opportunity to.

Childhood best friend Rhett who would call you every chance he got until suddenly your schedules began to clash, and late-night chats dissolved into missed call notifications at odd hours and short, awkward talks that struggled to grow beyond a 'How are you?'

Two old friends who don't speak anymore, until two horrible breakups happen on the same day, and suddenly, you have something in common again. You rant and you cry and you listen,

Maybe you're friends again. Or maybe friends isn't what your hearts have always longed for.

Maybe the reason you've never enjoyed kissing your dates is because your lips have forever craved the roughness of a cowboy who kisses like he's starved. Maybe all of Rhett's midnight ventures have never lasted past dawn because nobody has ever looked at him the way that you do.

Childhood best friend Rhett who flounders when he realizes you've come to one of his rodeos again, not because of the flowers in your hand but because he's almost forgotten what you look like. And it's like meeting you for the first time all over again.

Except this time, he's not the tiny little boy on the playground, running around with his dad's cowboy hat anymore.

No, he's strong now. Bigger. The only reason he tilts his hat up is because he doesn't want it to knock you in the head when he leans in, and maybe kissing you is the only thing he's ever truly needed.

There's nothing stopping you from clinging to him as he backs you into the wall. Nobody to scold you two for stumbling into a cheap hotel room and falling into the same bed.

Childhood best friend Rhett, who shyly kisses you in the morning, unsure if this is a boundary he's still allowed to cross and is pleasantly thrilled when you pounce on him. Who gets teary-eyed when he realizes you can't stay in Wabang and somehow convinces you to spend one more night with him.

Childhood best friend Rhett giggles when you adorn him with the shiny new title of boyfriend. His cheeks too rosy, and smile too big for him to formulate a single word.

Boyfriend Rhett, who ventures out of Wabang to see you every weekend and gets along with your friends as well as you do. You start coming to his rodeos again, that truck bench seat becomes your favorite place for post-ride snuggles, and his buddies complain about how much he's talked about you.

The riders are so sick of seeing him rush up to kiss you after a ride that their barking and jeers have dissolved into fake gagging and taking bets on whether he'll propose when he wins the finals again.

Boyfriend Rhett, who moves into a cozy little house with you and turns red when he realizes you've found old elementary school photos. He hates those old braces his momma used to wear, and no amount of kisses will get him to think otherwise. Those late phone calls have become mid-movie chats, and late-night hotel adventures have blossomed into driving around town until drowsiness threatens to kick in.

Rhett who breaks into tears during the middle of your first big argument because his raised voice made you jump, and scaring you is the last thing he ever wants to do. He breaks his hand in a bar fight when someone knocks your glass out of your hand, and it turns out to be that kid he decked in elementary school recess.

Sweet Rhett, who panics in the emergency room until you're allowed into the room. And Rhett who drops the engagement ring because that clunky cast got in the damn way and doesn't even get to ask you to marry him because you're both too busy laughing.

Fiance Rhett whose buddies text you their complaints because he still won't shut up about you, and becomes deeply upset when his buddy Archie hides his phone during his bachelor party. He's never quite understood the whole separate party thing because its so much more fun when everyone is all together. He disappears sometime during the middle of it and turns up with mud clinging to his boots.

Childhood best friend Rhett who never leaves your side on your wedding day and is more than happy to go with whatever last-name decision you have chosen, so long as he gets to share it with you. Who kisses the icing off your cheek and rolls his eyes when you scoop some up and dab it onto his nose.

Husband Rhett who accidentally tears his suit when he tries to stretch and lets you rip those buttons clean open the moment you're alone. It takes you two days to realize he's planted both of your favorite flowers in the garden, and he'd tell you more about them if he weren't about to go on a plane for the first time.

Your old childhood best friend, who loves you more than life itself and still follows you around like a lost puppy, even if he sees you every day. Now you're the one with an oversized cowboy hat, stolen clean off his head, and Rhett's too fond to do anything but smile at you.

It's only a matter of time before you notice the little bracelet he's hidden in your bag.

Send me Rhett and/or Bobby asks 💐

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #delgato's asks

[y2kbugs]

Why Rincewind deserves your love

Tumblr loves characters like Rincewind right now. The sad, weary one who really doesn't want to be here but does it anyway cause no one else bothered, and is often vulnerable, cowardly, and a weakling compared to everyone else. In other words, the pathetic wet cat, the poor little meow meow.

Vimes is also a perfect example of this archetype, he's there and he's great, but Rincewind to me is a sort of hidden gem bogged down by the author's early writing and the struggle to live up to those later, more deep characters. It doesn't really help that Pratchett also got bored of writing him, and only felt obligated because he had fans (which in a way sounds like Rincewind himself), but...

The first two books aren't even bad. The only thing I'd say is that TCOM has some confusing writing going on and feels more like a collection of stories but it's good and could be better if rewritten. Rincewind is a wonderful character and Twoflower is a delight. TLF is a definite improvement writing and character wise and gives development to Rincewind.

He's not "a weak character who doesn't do anything but run". He is not badly written. He is a character who does not want to be the hero but does it anyway. He has deep empathy and believes that throwing your life away for a good cause is inherently selfish rather than selfless (and! he does this himself, kind of. He does make a sacrifice to help somebody, but he lives).

He isn't stupid. He might be the smartest character in his books, but that's more because the other characters are relatively kind of dumb. The only thing he's really bad at is being a wizard, that's it. He's not a good wizard, but he's a great strategist, he knows a lot about magic, knows almost every language on Discworld and this was how he got to know Twoflower in the first place. I would call him an average intelligence and very high wisdom character in DnD. He's intensely rational and will point out gaps in reasoning and logic. He might be a pessimist, but he has experience and he's going to use that.

That's not to say he doesn't make mistakes. He absolutely does, but making dumb mistakes is much different from willful and sheer ignorance which he does not display.

His hat says "Wizzard" because it's supposed to be a pun on "he can't spell", and it's highly unlikely that he actually misspelled it not knowing the actual spelling considering he reads a lot.

He is very, very defensive and adamant about his identity as a wizard. It's pretty much everything to him and he has a crisis whenever other characters mock and have general distrust of wizards.

He's done the following:

Beat the shit out of an eldritch horror until it ran away from him (TLF),

forced an extremely powerful spell out of his head with sheer will (TLF),

Defeated the most powerful deceased wizard possessing a magical staff with only a brick in a sock, and took both himself and the wizard's son into the Dungeon Dimensions, where he fought back creatures to allow the boy to escape. (Sourcery)

Gave the boy a speech about how it's important to not let anyone define who you are as a person and no one should have to tell you what to do (Sourcery)

Used a whole terracotta army to beat an entire army, and succesffully intimidated them via psychological tricks. (Interesting Times)

Brought rain back to Fantasy Australia and talked back against Death who convinced him to give up. (TLC)

Maybe he's not the most sympathetic character, because he's not chivalrous or manly. He has no bravery and freely admits to being a coward, he's kind of a jerk who cools down as time goes on, and he's selfish enough that he thinks being selfless is a total waste of time and is selfish in itself. He's a cynic and a pessimist with a worldview shaped by his terrible experiences on Discworld, but he's very well-traveled even against his own will, and from this experience he knows precisely how to get out of danger, how to outsmart an individual (or a whole army) and more.

He's shown empathy. Being tired at the world at large and not liking the other wizards very much but going out of his way to save the world from a wizard gone rogue anyway because nobody else bothered to and he's angry, saving a boy from his abusive father's power and diving headfirst into the Dungeon Dimensions, trying to convince an "army" of mostly children why trying to fight against a legitimate army of warriors is a horrible idea and will only get them killed, Helping some thirsty sheep out to get access to water despite not needing to, bringing rain back to Fantasy Australia even though he could have given up and gone home at any moment, being made a "test subject" for the wizard's project in creating Roundworld/Earth, learning aabout the life on there over millions of years and talking about how hard it is for life to grow on there in its earliest millions of years, teaching Roundworld inhabitats the importance of art and creativity not only to outsmart the elves but because he wanted to (while the other wizards considered him stupid for this idea).

And he doesn't want to be a hero, he has no obligation to and is perfectly happy just being alone in the library and reading old books. He wants a life of peace and quiet and nothing life-threatening, but unfortunately he's pushed into these situations. Often though instead of simply resigning himself and giving up altogether, he sucks it up and goes and does it anyway with the expectation that he can go home in the end. That, and by now he's already expected this is his role: to fix shit and go home, even though he'd love to have someone else do his job.

It rubs me the wrong way to see people call him one-dimensional or just "the guy that is scared and runs away"...That to me is like simply calling Vimes "the depressed cop who drinks a lot" or Granny Weatherwax "the old witch who kicks ass". Of course the character will seem one dimensional if you describe them that way. Vimes is better written overall and gets better development for sure, which is also what his character is built for, as well as a more serious story that doesn't lend itself as well to basically slapstick. Rincewind isn't built for overcoming his fears, but rather his selfish attitude and to finally find peace with himself, and he works as a comedic character while also balancing out the fact he can be anything other than a clown or coward.

He gets what he always wanted in the end too. Pratchett might not have wanted to write him anymore, but instead of simply putting him on a bus, he gave Rincewind a position at Unseen University, only dampened by the fact the other wizards clearly don't respect him, therefore he can't really be a professor as a job, but he doesn't mind. In fact, he loves that. He gets free food, a quiet place to stay, and has zero obligations. He's happy, and the last thing we know of him is that he's studying the effects of plants on the nervous system (Raising Steam), and he's very important in the Science Of Discworld series, initially being a test subject and later being the "to go" for information about Roundworld/Earth, even getting to keep the globe in his room.

#discworld #rincewind #this initially started out all casual but then it got long and essay-like as i am prone to writing #i probably got things wrong...correct me

[sillypiratelife]

The more I think about it, the more insane the first Mihawk and Zoro encounter is.

Mihawk adopted Zoro right in front of Zeff and went directly to tell Shanks about it???

No, but seriously. There's no way Zeff didn't feel a bit invested in the chaos. He saw Zoro giving his all for his dream and he knew that's how Sanji was too, it's just that Sanji gave up for some reason guilt. It was not only Luffy who convinced Zeff that he needed to kick Sanji out of the Baratie and sent him sailing with those idiots, but also freaking Zoro.

Zoro addressing Luffy as the pirate king in front of everyone??

Fever whenever I think of how you could say Mihawk proclaimed Zoro as Luffy's first mate on the spot. He really said "you two came in the same pack. good". It's like? Oh look, the kid I just adopted is besties with the kid of one of my friends. How convenient.

Mihawk's tiny baby knife. It reminds me of the knife Luffy cut his cheek with when he wanted to prove to Shanks that he was ready to sail with him. Except both Zoro and Luffy gained their mentors' respect, meaning that Shank left Luffy with a hat that identified him from there on, while Mihawk left Zoro with a giant scar all across his chest as the promise Zoro must fulfill to Mihawk.

The fact Mihawk identified Luffy from Shank's stories and he judged Luffy also based on his compatibility with Zoro??????? Sure, only the pirate king would be worthy of having the greatest swordsman in his crew.

Sanji. Sanji's reaction to the whole thing. The desperation in his voice. I still can't believe it was the way Sanji was truly introduced to Zoro. Of course they are not normal about each other. Sanji was screaming for Zoro to give up so he wouldn't die and Zoro was asking for death so he wouldn't be defeated.

"Why are the fighting all the time?" MAYBE BECAUSE THEY STAND DIRECTLY ON TWO OPPOSITE SIDES IN THAT MATTER???

There were already two swordsmen following Zoro?? Calling him big brother?? There were five young men around Zoro's age there and he absolutely didn't disappoint in guiding by example? It was a Zoro masterclass on how to be a strawhat. What a time to be alive.

I just love that everyone was losing their mind over Mihawk and his powers and Zoro just. Jumped to face him. Mihawk told him YOU ARE A KID and Zoro proceeded to impress Mihawk so hard, the man became a fan. It's? Simply?? Idk, idk!

Sanji's family remembers Zoro and Luffy like that. Do you understand what that means? Ussop was kinda there and Nami didn't make the best of first impressions, but Luffy and Zoro made a total show. At that point, Zeff was the kind of dad who almost forced his kid to befriend the other kids he thinks that will be a good influence.

Which again. Insane.

Luffy ready to throw hands over Zoro did not surprise me. The intensity of his panic? The hurt on the way he screamed Zoro's name? He was sweating, using all his willpower to control himself and not interrupt Zoro's fight, he was cursing Mihawk and going wild and— I cannot breathe whenever I remember how Luffy met Zoro, how their friendship started. No one else knows that Zoro was on a Marine base CRUCIFIED. Some freaking pulling this Jesus out of the cross and taking him with me to see the world shit going on here.

The whole Zoro basically crucified image and the whole cross imagery with Mihawk and— I'm not going that route today, sorry.

THE VOW. THE VOW. THE VOOOOOOOOW.

WERE YOU WORRIED ABOUT ME?

AND HE WAS.

The way Sanji calls back to the vow when he criticizes Zoro in Alabasta for being worried about Luffy losing. The Zoro Sanji knows is the one who raised his arm and called Luffy the pirate king, the one who vowed to never lose again to not worry Luffy. Sanji was not happy to see Zoro so out of himself and in a weird (their) way, he was reassuring Zoro. Ugh. My brain hurts.

But then again, Zoro was acting exactly how Luffy acted before. The first fight of Luffy vs Crocodile is clearly paralleling the Zoro vs Mihawk first encounter. I'll need a therapist after this.

I'm just now reading the version of the manga and not the anime and wjdnkdbfjej I just—

The end(?)

#shan blogs about one piece! #one piece anime #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #black leg sanji #dracule mihawk

[bored-storyteller]

Hello, your writing is a pure bliss and I hope Im not late yet, but when I saw your promt and your cute newest work about Uta, can I mabye too have a request about him? He is my favourite anime character. :D And I would like to request the story on a word pancake, please. :D

Ok, I changed this little story you don't know how many times. This is the one that seemed most decent to me! Thank you for your request and for your support dear Anon!🌹

Tokyo Ghoul, Uta x human! Reader

Word: "Pancake"

"Have you ever tried to eat human food?"

Your question hovers quietly in the evening half-light, Uta just pushes his head back on your legs, to be able to look at you.

He lies quietly on the sofa, with his gaze up to that moment lost in an indefinite point of space and his hands folded in his lap.

For a moment the red irises scan the curiosity in your gaze, as if they can't really understand it.

"Why should I do this?" He asks you, and then rearranges himself, looking back at the ceiling.

"Because you are crazy ..." you murmur slightly sulky, looking away too, while your fingers distractedly enjoy the sensation of his shaved hair against the fingertips.

You don't talk much, but you don't mind. It's not like you don't say anything to each other, but you like to take your moments of calm in the evening, with no need for anything other than the two of you.

And when you believe that the topic has simply fallen on deaf ears, Uta sighs softly.

"Only once." He says without giving particular color to his tone, but manages to spark a new curiosity in your eyes; you didn't expect it, you almost laugh at the surprise.

"When?" You ask, because it is inevitable that you do, and your boyfriend knows it.

His eyes roll to signal that he has already regretted having spoken, but in any case he replies: “Do you remember the first times we met? When did you work at that cafe? "

A slight smile crosses your face as you nod softly. You remember the weird guy who walked into the local every week on your shift, all covered in jacket, hat and sunglasses. He always took the usual things, a black coffee and pancakes to take away: the pancakes you made only yourself, however, because according to him they had a "particular aesthetic taste".

That thought made you laugh then as now.

"What did you do with those pancakes actually?"

"I looked at them ... I found them really beautiful."

This time you can't hold back a light but amused laugh. Why does this seem so in line with Uta?

"And then, despite that stench of rancid, I could still smell your perfume."

He is speaking to you with such quietness that he seems almost emotionless, yet for some reason he makes you blush. Though…

"Won't you tell me that ..."

Uta sighs, turning his face back to yours: "Yes, I tasted it, okay?"

You put a hand to your lips to keep yourself at least partially from laughing. You can't tell if you enjoy the fact itself or how embarrassed he seems to admit it.

“However, it didn't go beyond my esophagus. Really unbearable. Stop laughing now. " He tells you trying to be bored, settling down again to look elsewhere.

"I could be offended, you know?"

"It wouldn't be very smart of you since you know exactly who I am."

You smile as you quietly stroke his hair, undecided, however, whether to allay that annoyance of him or to continue teasing him as long as he is on your lap.

"Basically you ate it because you wanted to eat me, then." You murmur more to yourself than to him as a black strand slide around your index finger.

He looks at you, but this time he doesn't find you focused on him, you seem rather lost in your thoughts of that little realization.

"The initial idea was that ..." He reveals in a whisper that he does not know if you are listening, but your smile confirms that he has been heard.

How do you smile at him when he says such things to you, anyway?

"You're a pancake for ghouls."

"Oh well, thanks for your absolutely uncorrupted compliments." You answer him, your amused smile clashes a little with the fake frown on your forehead.

"But that's the truth." He insists, as he gets up just to get a chance to bite your nose slowly.

You just snort in front of his games, perhaps in bad taste or perhaps just very dangerous.

"You are inviting you know? But it would be a real shame to eat you."

"Stop." You tell him immediately, bringing your palm to his lips to silence him. A flash of boredom crosses his gaze, but he immediately frees himself from your grip.

"The official idea was that ..." he resumes, the quiet music of his voice fades slightly "the unofficial idea was ... I would have been sorry to disappoint a certain human being if they had asked me to taste their sweets in front of them. "

It's funny how he tries to be as innocent as possible in front of your doubtful gaze, and whether that's true or not, you sigh complacently as you smile.

"I would never have asked you, I was too afraid of your judgment."

Uta doesn't laugh, but you can feel the fun in his snort escaping his lips as he playfully strokes your head before standing up.

"Luckily I'm a ghoul then, my sweet pancake."

#tokyo ghoul uta #uta x human reader #uta x reader #tokyo ghoul oneshot #tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul x reader #uta tg #request #tokyo ghoul re #tg re #reader insert