#i wrote this at 11 PM on a school night

[imsosillygoofylol]

TRIGGERED

pairing: matt sturniolo x poc!reader

synopsis: y/n helps a murder suspect not knowing what she got herself into.

warnings: death, mental illness, smoking, tattoos, i THINK that’s it.

envy yaps: lol i wrote something like this before a WHILE back but this one will be better trust 😋 anyways let’s pray and hope i actually finish this 🙏🏾

“and we’re done!” you say finally excited to almost be leaving. you just finished working on my last customer of the night. “you can walk up to the mirror to see for yourself.” you mumble while cleaning up.

“ ‘s beautiful thank you so much!” she smiles eagerly as she examines her freshly done butterfly tattoo on her rib.

“yeah you’re welcome, you already know the tattoo after care i don’t have to go over it do i?” you asked already knowing her answer. layla was a regular you’ve done like 4 of her tats already.

“nah i know how to take care of my shit thank you very much.” she declared while carefully rolling down her shirt.

you giggle and give her a smile while you finish cleaning up. “here ma, thank you so much again you always get me right.” she passes you a couple bills with a big smile on plastered on her face. “ahh i love them i’ve been thinking about getting butterflies for a while now you ate down” she screamed while looking at herself in the mirror again.

you take the money and put it in your backpack as you let out another giggle. “you’re welcome”. you love your job, aside from the good pay you literally just get to draw cute things on people and they’re happy.

“alright my uber outside bye y/n thanks again” she leaves, the room now silent once again.

you finished cleaning up and you get up to lock the door as you’re now closed before you continue to prep things for tomorrow.

you finally had time to check your phone and you see the time.

11:56 PM

you see all the missed texts and calls from your mom. she always wants you to call her at the end of the day knowing there’s not much to talk about anyway. your days usually blend into each other, all you do is go to school and work. not that you don’t have a life aside from those two things, it just takes up most of your time.

you break away from your phone as you hear a knock on the door. you make my way to the front. “we’re closed” you mumble. startling the boy a little. you examine the boy he was wearing a plain black shirt, white shorts, and birkenstock’s. you knew who he was.

nick sturniolo

not that you knew each other, you knew of him. you’ve seen him around campus and his family’s like stupid rich. he’s a triplet however only two of them actually attend college. you don’t know anything about the other one, you have seen him at a party once though that’s about it.

his blonde hair layes just right above his eyes. he looks like he’d been crying all night. that or he’s just really high. he looks sickly though really pale but somehow he still looked really pretty.

“can i help you?” you finally spoke out as you unlock and open the door. this is weird why is he here so late at night you think to yourself.

“are you still open?” he asks his voice so soft yet deep.

what a stupid question to ask, the door was locked and the open sign was off. we’re visibly closed!

“sorry we’re closed. you can schedule an appointment for tomorrow though.” you say trying to sound as nice as possible.

“please i’ll pay twice as much, i really need this please.” he begs.

you start to feel bad, really wanting to go home but cant bring myself to say no. he looks like he’s about to break down into tears you can’t just leave him like this.

“uh okay come in.” you say moving out the way to let him in and lead him to the room. “um what would you like to get done?” you asked dryly.

“have you seen the movie edward scissorhands before?” he asked bringing his phone up to your face to show you what he wants.

“yeah a couple times, where do you want it?” you ask while unpacking the supplies needed.

“right here on my calf.” he points to the side of his calf. he had another tattoo closer to his ankle of two pokémon characters.

you slowly start tracing the design. what’s so important about this tattoo anyway that he had to come at 12 am. you’ve watched the movie a couple times, yeah it’s good but is it worth a tattoo or coming this late for one. you mentally curse myself for not being able to say no.

“you from here?” he asked looking down at you.

“nah im from new york city, i just go to school here.” you say keeping your focus on the tattoo.

“hm how long? i’ve never seen you around here.” he stated.

“about two years now, i don’t really go out much or talk to many people from here.” you continue working. the room was silent for the rest of the night, only thing audible was the faint music playing on the tv.

“k im done!” you smile down at your work. “is it okay if i take a couple pictures?”

“yeah it’s fine looks amazing by the way. thank you so much.” he examines the scissor hands tattoo as you take a couple pictures from different angles. “how much do i owe you?”

“one fifty.” you state turning around to clean up. he turns in your direction passing four one hundred bills to you. “oh no i can’t take this, it’s only one fifty.”

“no honestly take it, i came when you were closing please ill feel even worse if you don’t!” you nod your head and put the money in your backpack. “i really can’t thank you enough it looks amazing, do you have a business card? i’d love to come back sometime i love your work.” he starts to ramble and you let out a laugh.

“yeah they’re here in the front, you can take one as you walk out. you’re welcome it’s really no biggie.” it was though you have a morning class tomorrow and it’s nearly 3 am. you try to stay positive and not let your attitude slip out.

“hey i didn’t get your name.” he mentions

“oh it’s y/n.”

“nick.”

“oh i know trust me.” you think to yourself while you smile at him.

you explain the tattoo after care even though nobody ever listens. he finally leaves which means you can finally leave. you love your work and all but it’s so draining. you close up the shop and finally get in my car, the drive to your apartment isn’t far only 8 minutes but tonight it feels like an eternity.

you like driving though it calms you down, helps you think. you make it to your parking spot and really process what the fuck just happened. not that it’s outta this world cause growing up in new york you’ve seen and experienced some crazy shit but that was weird. you had so many questions but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable so you decided it was best to mind your business.

you finally make it to your apartment, happy to shower and get in bed but even happier to see your cat luna after a long ass day. you unlock your door set your things down on your counter.

“luna mama where are you?” you call out waiting for her to pop out from somewhere. “luna baby where are you?” she comes from underneath the couch, you bend down to pick her up and smother her with kisses. saying i miss you and i love you. you feel bad she hasn’t been getting the attention she deserves lately, you barely see her due to school and work. all of a sudden everyone wants a tattoo.

you finally shower enjoying the hot water run down your body calming you. not a single negative thought in your mind. you start to think if should you smoke after or fall asleep.

you get out the shower and check the time.

3:48 am

“fuck i gotta be up at 9.” you sigh, you need to stop taking appointments past 10 pm and leave it to the other artist. you’re always the last one to leave the shop.

❀᭢͏ུ  

you groan hearing you alarm going off wising you could stay in bed forever. knowing it’s not possible and missing class is not an option especially not when your paper is due next week. you get up and get ready, putting water and food in lunas bowl before leaving and driving to campus.

you don’t live far from campus only a twelve minute drive. you hate being late though just the thought of everyone staring at you and observing your every move while trying to get situated makes you so uncomfortable. it feels like you’re interrupting an important conversation or meeting so you choose to be early or well on time.

you make it to class with five minutes to spare, sitting there just scrolling through your phone waiting for your professor to start the lesson. there was nothing special about todays lesson, taking notes and finishing up the paper.

ten minutes before class was over the professor started to talk about a situation that happened earlier this morning.

“as some of you may know there was a tragic incident that happened at around four thirty am this morning.” he paused for a second trying to gather all his thoughts, trying to use the right words before continuing. “the sturniolo family was brutally murdered, some knew nicolas sturniolo. he was a great student and a great friend to all. may he rest in peace.”

as he finished your face dropped, there was many whispers heard through out the class. this is all too confusing, you had just seen him.

your thoughts were cut off by the professor speaking again. “please appreciate all the people around you while they’re here, you never know what can happen. his brother is suffering from a great loss please respect his privacy.”

his brother? which brother?

people continued to whisper “i heard his brother went crazy and murdered them all.” said a random girl. “i heard it was nicks stalker, he was infatuated with him and when nick rejected him he couldn’t stand it.” another said. this is all so stupid. why do people jump to conclusions and spread rumors without knowing what really happened.

you started to feel overwhelmed you had to go home. before you left through the door, the professor said one last thing. “also the police will come by tomorrow and question some of you, please be sure to be early tomorrow morning. thank you all and please be safe”

with that you went home, you can’t come back to your afternoon classes it was all too much. did he know something was gonna happen? is that why he looked sad? you assumed it might of been a boy or something. not something this big.

you arrive at your house, trying to gather all your thoughts. not that you’re sad, you didn’t even know the boy but you can’t help but feel sorry for him, his family.

you tried to sleep, sleeping was like your therapy. or well not therapy just a way of not dealing with your emotions for the time being. sleeping was hard though, every time you closed your eyes you would see him.

you decide the beach was a good option. sometimes when you felt lonely or depressed you would go to the beach, smoke, and draw. it was calming, made you feel like you were the only person left in the world. usually you enjoyed your own company, you found peace in being alone. one of your traits your mom despised. she wanted you to go out more, explore, experience, have fun. not be locked away in the house when you’re not in school or at work.

you lie and tell her you do other things but she doesn’t believe you. she says she knows you more than you know yourself but she doesn’t understand you.

Y/N

hey mom i’m going to the beach i’ll call you when i get home.

sorry i haven’t called or texted much i’ve been super busy.

love you :)

you spent your afternoon at the beach, watching the sunset, hitting your blunt every now and then, sketching random flowers on your book. you could go on and on about flowers if you could, even nature.

you finally check the time when it’s fully dark deciding its a bit dangerous to be out so late considering what just happened around the area.

8:27 pm

you decide to pick up some pizza and call it a day. trying to mentally prepare yourself for tomorrow. you really want to call of work tomorrow feeling like there too much going on around you. it was overwhelming, you think you’re overreacting none of this really affects you in anyway so why do you have this suffocating feeling? you feel like you’re literally drowning.

“luna you have it so easy mama, i’d love to be a house cat not a single worry in the world.” you sigh while rubbing her tummy as she purs.

❀᭢͏ུ  

envy yaps: ermmm i can’t tell if this is good or not lol. guys trust the process frrr i swear it’ll get juicyyyy in the next part😈😈😋😋. anyways comment to be on taglist or wtv 😅😋😈😍🙏🏾

🏷️ ‘s

@tastesousweet

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #imsosillygoofylol #im so sorry nicky pooh ilyyy #guys actually lmk if this is good! #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader

[bluetoraa]

incorrect quotes, karma akabane x reader

warnings!

—gn!reader

—swearing

y/n: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake.

karma: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear.

y/n: ...

y/n: You mean ring bearER, right?

karma: ...

y/n: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

y/n: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

karma: I wrote you a poem.

y/n, already crying: You did?

y/n: We’re getting married, bitches!

karma: And we're about to make it everybody else's problem.

karma, at y/n's funeral: I need a moment with them.

Everyone: Of course. (They leave)

karma, leaning over y/n′s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead.

y/n: Yeah, no shit.

y/n: Some of us are still ‘it’ from a childhood game of tag.

karma: way to just fuck me up on a Tuesday.

y/n: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.

karma: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

y/n: How do tall people people possibly sleep at night when the blanket can't possibly cover you?

karma: y/n, it's four o'clock in the morning.

y/n: So, you can't sleep, huh? Is it because of the blanket?

karma: I’m in love with you.

y/n: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, idiot.

karma: I know.

y/n: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

y/n: It’s not gonna work, I’m not a snitch.

Cop: Fine, let's try something else. Tag a friend you recently committed a crime with.

y/n: Lmao, @/karma.

y/n: Hey, you want a tarot reading?

karma: Those are Pokemon cards.

y/n: You got a magikarp.

karma: ...?

y/n: It means 'fuck you'.

AUTHOR NOTES;

I DO NOT OWN THE DIVIDERS! ALL CREDITS GO TO “blackholemojis” ON TUMBLR!!!

anyways take this while i disappear for awhile lmfao

im travelling again and school sucks ass bc its fucking school man😭

anyways, i hope whoevers reading this has a great day/night! thank you for reading!

tue sept 27th, 2022. 11:28 PM

#bluetoraa #assassination classroom #karma akabane x reader #karma x reader #assassination classroom x reader #karma akabane #ansatsu kyōshitsu x reader #incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes x reader #xoxo!<3

[billlydear]

SUPERNOVA - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART ONE)

word count: 3135 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list

Summary: max's english tutor has a black eye and a shitty alibi. billy sees right through it.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending, mentions of abuse, injuries mentioned (black eye), reader is abused by her mother just like billy is by his father

A/N: thank you for 300 followers!!! have this as a little gift from me to you <3 basic biology part three is in the works, don't worry! i just wrote this in a fit of sleep deprived passion the other night after thinking about it for a week or so and i wanted to share :) i hope you enjoy! the ending of this is pretty straightforward and, though i plan to write more parts, this can be read on its own for now.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

There’s never a good reason for Max to stomp into Billy’s room. It’s always either her demanding a ride somewhere, asking for money, or shouting at him to turn his music down. This time, though, there’s no music playing, and it’s nearing 11:00 PM, so he’s not sure why she’d need money or a ride.

He glances up at her, really more of a glare, through his eyelashes, reclined against the wall as he lounges on his bed. He’s got a magazine in hand and the pages are as boring as the cover was, but he’d rather stare at faded jet ski advertisements than read the book he’s supposed to be working on for English.

She stops just inside the doorway, jacket on and shoes laced. He narrows his eyes at her, something of a question, and she sounds just as venomous as he looks when she replies.

“I need to borrow your window.” She mutters, piercing eyes set on him.

He’s heard her say a lot of weird things since they started living together. Mom, I can’t find my left rollerskate, Why is my bra in the freezer?, and We’re not going in the theater, we’re going to sit outside and talk, have previously topped the list but this is off the charts.

“Sure, Max,” He drawls, fingers tightening against the waxy magazine paper, “Just haul it back in here when you’re done, okay?”

“You know what I mean,” She huffs, already lunging for his bed. She practically topples him in her overzealous attempt to reach the window, and he shoots a hand out to steady himself as the mattress rocks. He has half a mind to kick her onto the floor but he watches her click a flashlight open from her jacket pocket, and stares with suspicious intrigue instead.

“Come on, come on,” She huffs, clicking the light on, off, on, off, “Where is she?”

“Who?” Billy leans forwards, peering out the window into the blackened neighborhood, “Jesus, Max, don’t go shining lights into people’s windows at night, they’ll think you’re some creep trying to watch them change.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you know that from experience,” She grumbles, shoving his hand away when he tries grabbing the light.

“I’m not kidding,” Billy seethes, muscled arm coming to combat her defenses, nearly shoving her off of the end of the bed, “What are you even trying to do, anyways?”

“I’m trying to talk to my tutor,” She snaps, landing a sharp slap to his thigh that reddens the skin there, “Butt out, butthead.”

“Assface,” Billy grumbles, rubbing at the tender spot on his leg with half a mind to whack her upside the head. She ignores him completely, desperately flicking the light at a ground floor window.

“Do you really need tutoring help now?” Billy groans, the incessant clicking preventing him from what was supposed to be his before-bed relaxation.

“She wasn’t at school today,” Max explains in a huff, “Or- like, she didn’t show up at my school. She called this morning to say she was sick, but she sounded fine, and I heard someone in the parking lot say that they saw her outside her house, just sitting there, like, really late last night.”

“So she was getting some fresh air,” Billy deadpans, “Now get out of my room.”

“Would it kill you to cooperate?” Max turns to him with such a judgemental stare that Billy’s surprised he doesn’t wither away right on the spot. Hell hath no fury like a teenage girl scorned, he thinks, annoyance bubbling in his chest.

“She’s obviously not coming,” Billy reasons, his patience wearing thin after almost two minutes of flashlight nonsense, “She’s probably sleeping. She’s got the flu or something, and you’re gonna wake her up and make her even more sick. Just leave her alone, and leave me alone.”

“I’m not asking you to be a part of this!” She gushes, jaw set in a hard frown and eyes rolling when he props his elbow up on the windowsill, cheek smushed into a bored expression against his palm.

“I just want to see if she’s okay, because she doesn’t normally get sick, and I haven’t seen her window open all day, and I really think that something might be wrong, so-”

After a staggering two minutes and forty-six seconds of morse code from hell, your curtains part. Max practically lights up at the sliver of light that appears between the drapes, but when your face pops between it, her breath hitches in a gasp.

Your eye is bruised. It’s swollen shut and purple, an ugly stain that blooms down your cheek, like a rose that sticks its thorns straight into Billy’s chest. His posture, previously saggy and bored, stiffens until he’s nearly pressed against the glass, brows furrowed in horror as his lips part ever-so-slightly.

“Oh my god,” Max breathes, and you regard them both with a weary gaze.

Max lifts the lower half of Billy’s window, slipping out the gap with such agility and speed that Billy doesn’t have a chance to try to stop her before she’s already outside. He rushes to follow her, cringing as his bare feet land in damp piles of leaves.

“What happened to you?” Max runs to your window, bracing her hands on the sill.

“Nothing,” You try to smile, and it pulls at the skin around your eye, finishing the expression off with a wince, “I just- it’s silly, okay? I slipped and fell on the ice out front and I hit the stair rail on the way down. I was too embarrassed to go to school, ‘cause I knew everyone would ask, so I just called out sick. I’m sorry, Max, I know today was our day, but I’ll do double time once this heals.”

The more you ramble, the quicker you spew your pre-determined speech, the more the thorns lodge themselves in Billy’s gut. It’s familiar behavior, having an outlandish excuse at your disposal, reciting it like poetry, blaming the bruises on a misstep down the stairs rather than a rage-fueled fist. He’s done the same to countless teachers, all staring down at him with a condescending sneer, assuming he’d instigated another fight.

Max might not be well acquainted with different types of bruises - and god he hopes she never has to be - but Billy certainly is. And your black eye is not from a stair railing, he knows that. It looks the same as his does whenever Neil decides he’s in a fighting mood, and it doesn’t seem like you have the frozen peas that Billy usually medicates his marks with.

“It’s okay!” Max promises, and thankfully she commands enough of your attention to where you don’t notice Billy’s grief-stricken stare, looking for all the world like he’d been punched in the gut.

‘It’s okay, we can just meet up some other time. Or- or I can come over to your house! So you don’t have to show your face anywhere. And I won’t tell,” She insists, hands dug snugly into the pockets of her jacket, “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

So are you, Billy notes, just not to the people with the same ones.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” You frown slightly, biting the inside of your cheek, “This really hurts, and it’s kind of giving me a headache, so… might be best to just meet when it’s healed.”

“That’s fine,” Max nods, reaching up and through the window to sling her arms around your neck in a rushed hug, “Just- call me when it’s better, okay? My teacher set us this new essay, and it’s got some stupidly complicated prompt, so I need your help figuring out-”

Billy watches as your head ticks up, eyes widening slightly as you tune into the sounds of your house. He knows the look all too well, you’ve heard someone coming.

“That’s great Max,” You stammer, reaching for the window pane to close it, "I’ve gotta go!”

“-how to… write it.” She finishes, face wrinkling in confusion when you slam the window shut, yanking the curtains closed, “Feel better…”

“Go,” Billy jumps to action, hearing a raised voice from within your room, not your own, “Max, move!”

He pushes her along the side of their house, shoving her around the back until they’re out of the line of sight from your window. He peers around the corner from behind an overgrown trellis, one that lets him see you without you seeing him. He waits with bated breath, ignoring Max’s indignant protests and slamming a hand over her mouth.

She licks his palm, but he manages to stay calm and keep it there. He will smear it on her cheek later, though.

Sure enough, Billy watches your curtains fly open. There’s a woman in the window now, and you’re standing behind her, expression unreadable. Then you speak, and Billy can’t hear it. Your voice must be soft, gentle, calming. The woman barrely reacts, eyes scanning wildly for whoever you’d been talking to. But Billy keeps Max quiet, pinching her hard when she tries escaping his grip.

Billy watches the woman in your window with a hatred he’s only ever felt towards Neil. She acts the same, menacing glares and a puffed-up chest. You react just as he does, a personified tension-diffuser as you shrink in on yourself and give steady, slow answers. She’s shouting, you’re mumbling. She’s advancing, you’re backing away. She’s grabbing your wrist, forcing you close to her, and you’re squeezing your eyes shut.

Billy’s stomach churns; he can’t watch this any longer.

He herds Max to the other side of the house, keeps her restrained with one hand and pries at her window with the other. It opens smooth and easy, no squeaking that would alert their parents to their escapade.

Once they’re both inside, she flips.

“You asshole,” She huffs, “You manhandled me! You really couldn’t just let me have one nice conversation with my friend? You had to yank me away like some psychopath?”

“She wasn’t going to come back,” Billy murmurs, a glint in his eyes urging her to lower her own voice, “And she didn’t fall down the stairs. Go to sleep, Max.”

He feels a pillow hit him in the back as he strides out of her room, and each step down the hallway towards his own feels like he’s numbing from the inside out. The role reversal of his own life had been so mind-shattering, watching a scene from his household happen in real time in front of him instead of a torturous memory in his nightmares.

By the time he reaches his room, his fingers are too numb to shut the door. He kicks it closed instead, staring out of the still-opened window to watch your own. The curtains are drawn again, shutting you off from the world.

He stands there staring for what feels like seconds, but is probably minutes with the way his brain is warping his thoughts. Abuse felt so lonely, it was a soundproof room with padded walls, but they stung like hot coals when his dad came stomping in to shove him up against them. His family, his safe space, his padded room, came with the irony of only existing alongside pain, fear, and anxiety. And knowing there was an identical room beside his for god knows how long, thick layers of insulation drowning out each of your cries and blocking out each other’s existence, makes him sick.

His eye stings with the residual image of your own, a feeling he knows all too well. His hand, on instinct, tingles with a cold sort of sensation, the same that he got from grabbing the ice-covered peas out of the freezer.

He’s off to the kitchen in a hurry, feet padding carefully across the floor so as not to alert anyone of his presence. The biggest challenge is opening the freezer door quietly, but he’s a pro at it by now. He takes the peas back to his room, but this time he doesn’t curl up in his bed with them pressed to his eye, he clutches them tightly and heads for the window.

Max’s flashlight is discarded on the sill, and he wraps it in his free fist. He clicks it on cautiously, testing the sound to see how it echoes in the empty space between your house and his. It’s not obnoxiously loud, hopefully no one can hear it.

He flashes it against your window, only for a second, then ducks beneath the sill. He waits, expecting an explosion of sound as your mother reaches out to grab him. But nothing happens, so he straightens up to his full height. The wind nips at his bare arms, goosebumps erupting over the skin not covered by his muscle tank. He waves the flashlight once more at your window, covering it with his thumb to flash it instead of clicking the button rapidly. 

He hears shuffling from inside, then silence. Then shuffling again, a little closer, and silence. Then more shuffling, and the routine continues until he hears your fingers scrape at the window pane.

You duck under the curtains this time, easier to slip back inside and shut the window instead of drawing the curtains, “Max, I can’t-”

Billy doesn’t know what to say when your eye catches him. He blinks, once, twice, three times, watching as your anxious eyes rove over him. Only then does he register the chill in his hand, the peas.

“Here,” He murmurs, voice soft and slightly raspy, as he holds the package out to you, “Ten minutes, then turn the package around, then ten more minutes. And if it’s still icy, do it over again.”

You take the peas because you have to, because he’s pressing the cold package into your hand. Your fingers wrap around it and you peer curiously at the image on the front, only glancing back up at him when he shifts in his stance, leaves crushed beneath his feet.

“The package rustles,” He warns you, “Be careful. Don’t get caught.”

“I won’t,” You finally murmur, breaking your stunned silence, “I- Uh, thank you. It’s.. Billy, right?”

“Yeah,” He breathes, nodding once. He’s half aware that his curls aren’t exactly perfect like they typically are, because nodding sends one of them tumbling into his eyesight over his forehead, “That’s me.”

“Y/N,” You mumble, and this time even Billy hears the heavy footfalls in your hallway. They set you on edge again, and he yanks his fingers back from the windowsill so that you can snap it shut, “I gotta go.”

“Bye,” He whispers, voice lost to the night as he stands outside your window. He ducks beneath the sill again, where your mom can’t see him if she decides to search the premises. He doesn’t hear anything from your room, though, and he takes it as a good sign when the footsteps retreat. Then he hears the soft crunch of the package of peas, muffled beneath what he assumes is your blanket as bed springs creak from within.

His eyes snap shut at the sound, envisioning you curled up beneath your comforter, hugging the bag of peas to your bruise. It’s a position that feels so natural to him he almost replicates it, back slumped against the siding of your house. The rustling stops; you got yourself settled.

Only then does he move, climbing back through his window and shutting it for the night. He can’t sleep, though, eyes drifting towards your window from his seat on his bed. He watches, he waits, he stares until his eyes sting, every second that passes a blessing for the lack of commotion it causes. When he does fall asleep it’s after the upstairs lights of your house have shut off, because only then is it over, only then is it safe. He sleeps in solidarity with you, knowing that the click of the lightswitch puts you at ease just like it does him; if there's someone else awake, it’s not safe to sleep. He’ll wake up tomorrow morning with a stiff neck from sleeping up against the wall, but his eyes will flutter open and the first thing he’ll see is your window, hopefully open to showcase peace inside.

Never in his life has he felt connected to someone his age. That’s what abuse does, that’s what Neil does. He isolates Billy, keeping him under his thumb so the boy can’t escape his clutches. But now there’s a glimmer of hope right next door. Hope, he supposes, isn’t the right word. A muddy black eye isn’t hopeful. It is, though, when it’s matching his own, when your scars and bruises line up with each other’s to map out constellations of torture. He wants to chart them, find out where the patterns are, spit out the stories behind them.

He’s spent enough time stargazing his own past, picking a new ball of fire each night to examine. To pick apart, to wish he’d have acted differently in, to regret. Now there’s a whole other sky mere feet away from him, and he yearns to chart it, to explore its patterns in the desperate hope of finding companionship. Oh, that cluster? A missed curfew. That bright one? Backtalk.

He’s always felt like a potential supernova. Like one day, all of the hurt, rage, and despair inside of him is going to burst forth in an explosion of color, blood and guts paired with anguish and heartache. 

And now, knowing there’s another ticking time bomb beside him, two panes of glass separating the two dying stars, he has hope. Maybe it’s morbid, to want to explode in tandem. To seek connection in even destruction. All Billy knows is that if he can’t get out, he’ll die.

He thinks about it for a moment; getting out. Shooting across the galaxy, hurtling over the inky black sky until the swirling black hole that is Neil Hargrove can’t suck him in anymore. Landing somewhere where he burns bright without the threat of explosion. 

And for the first time since that vision began, he sees two stars. One yours and one his, twin flames, both rocketing towards a safe corner of the universe, one where no one else can dim your glow. 

Billy knows right then and there, he has to get to know you. He’s never tried making real friends, never wants to get close enough to have to reveal that Daddy hits him and Mommy - New Mommy - doesn’t care. But you’re the same as him, a dimming star puttering along with the desperate hope of migrating instead of exploding. And if you can feed off of each other’s light, merge into one, he knows you’ll be strong enough to escape together, to go out without a bang.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove drabble #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x reader fanfiction #billy hargrove x fem!reader

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Red Dead Redemption 2 College AU !

I'm ignoring reqs for a bit to indulge in my own thoughts and ideas and write some hcs for my college au on what i think their majors/lives as students/professors would be like, ahem... Long post ahead. Also this isn't too well thought out as of now, just wrote down some fun thoughts. Plz tell me your own headcannons

Arthur Morgan - Fine Arts

THE MOST UNEXPECTED MAJOR FOR A GUY LIKE HIM. He's the guy who's seen around campus wearing leather jackets, riding his motorcycle, brooding over a cup of coffee while he stares off aimlessly into the sky. So imagine him walking into your visual arts class with some of the most beautiful drawings you've ever seen. Has his own apartment near campus and his roommate is Charles. Entire place is littered with sketches and art supplies and billions of projects. His hands are constantly stained with charcoal. Takes his major VERY seriously, he don't play about his drawings and paintings. Works at a college bar and constantly comes home with a new story. Frequently visits John and the others after joining the frat, especially when they have parties. Never misses out on those. Became friends with Lenny through these parties.

John Marston - Civil Engineering

Probably one of the most miserable engineering majors you'll ever see. And that's only because he doesn't stress out over his work and procrastinates like he hasn't a care in the world; seemingly forgets he's in college. That is until the deadline is 11:59 PM that night and he has to cram two weeks worth of assignments into one night. Complains about heart palpitations when the area surrounding his desk is littered with energy cans. Joined a fraternity as soon as possible and lives in the housing. Party animal, drinks on weekdays with Sean and Javier. Throws absolute ragers on the weekends. Is the guy to yell "IF YOU'RE NOT PART OF THIS FRAT, THEN GET THE FUCK OUT" before turning to you and asking if you had fun. Has missed his 9 AM several times because he either slept in or is hung over. Was probably community dick for a while. Works at McDonald's part time, people genuinely don't know how he handles the stress. 60% of his paycheck goes to liquor/alcohol.

Javier Escuella - Music Theory

PASSIONATE about his major. HE DON'T PLAY ABOUT HIS MUSIC. But I can totally see him as the type of dude to sit around on the campus lawn with a guitar as a group of girls surrounds him and listens to him play. Is in the frat with John and lives in it as well. Also plays his guitar at parties with girls surrounding him, starkly contrasting the EDM and house music in the background. Shows up to class regardless of hangovers, he is very serious about his education. As serious as he is about partying. Shows up to class fitted every single time. Probably has outfit changes between classes. Type of guy to have his fits laid out next to his bed. He does the most. Was also probably community dick. Works as a cook at a restaurant, constantly flirts with you there. Gets all giddy in the kitchen with his coworkers when he manages to make you giggle.

Charles Smith - Anthropology

It's him and his laptop against the world. He's super neat, everything in one place. Any papers he gets are all neatly kept away and categorized per class. Is hard at work on writing an ethnography and is frequently out and about for observations. If he's not out then he's at home working on assignments. Also a frat member but like I said, rooms with Arthur. Has gained the quiet serious type reputation in class but once you start talking to him discover he's very friendly and nice. Probably works on campus as a student ambassador. Is very involved with school and activities; runs an enviornmental sciences club. Dedicates several hours a night to studying/working on assignments. Amazing student all around. The way he has his life together is enviable.

Kieran Duffy - Equine Studies

LITERALLY PERFECT MAJOR FOR HIM. Literally the happiest student around, his classroom is the stables. Works at the stables as well. Just spends 99% of his time at the stables so catching him outside of there is nearly impossible. Gossips to the horses and tells them about his day. I feel like he'd fall behind in his other studies though because he'd be way too focused on the horses. Typical, struggling student. Joined a frat out of pressure, got the WORST of the hazing. I don't even want to begin to imagine what the rituals were like. Probably gets black out drunk at frat parties, ends up on the front lawn and wakes up half naked every weekend somehow.

Sean Macguire - Business Administration

He's just insufferable like that. Whenever people shit on his major he just finds a thousand bullshit reasons as to why his major is better and more lucrative. Complains to John how hard his homework is and when John asks to see his screen it's addition with pictures. Probably went to college to party and realized "oh shit I actually gotta do school". Googled the highest paying and easiest majors and chose it like that. Puts more thought into what beer he's going to buy at the liquor store than his studies. Hotboxes his car 24/7. His room REEKS of weed and so does he. Attempts to disguise it with ax body spray. Will always ask you if you want to wake and bake; regardless of if you do or don't accept he's showing up to class high and with sunglasses. Goes nonverbal when he greens out. Works at McDonald's with John, is constantly late and is warned he might get fired but never does. Just fucks around in the back. I can imagine he and Karen are constantly on and off but when they're off he brings a new girl home to the frat every night.

Lenny Summers - Literature Major

Joined the frat because he thought he'd make good connections (LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER). One of the youngest pledges, went easier on him with the hazing. He's incredibly focused on his studies. You'd be surprised to find out he's a party animal as well because he's constantly reading a book in his free time. Definitely joined a book club with Mary-Beth and is taking Dutch's English class. Works on campus as well as the library; prides himself on his work and education. I believe he'd dorm because there's no way he's living in that filthy frat. Super organized dorm. Became really good friends with Arthur during one of the parties, also became close with Sean. Frequently gets driven around by Sean and gets second hand high from being in his car.

Bill Williamson - Army

Out of everyone he went to the army instead of college. But he definitely still hangs with the frat when he can simply because he's friends with a few of them. Frequently buys them liquor and supplies it to the younger members. Asks them how their classes are going and ends up falling into a rabbit hole where he's learning about infrastructure planning or astrophysics and tries his hand at doing their homework for them. It goes terribly. Drives a beat up pickup truck and you can hear that mf coming down the road 3 blocks away. Subtly tries (and fails) at flirting with some of the frat members.

Micah Bell - Criminal Law Major

Insufferable. Need I say more. Very money centric. Definitely thinks he's better than you because he's a law student. Kisses the professors’ ass all the time. Joins study groups and acts as if he's the smartest one there, tries to lead conversations, and views it as a challenge if anyone says differently than him during said discussions. He probably has an internship at a firm. Oh my god I can just imagine how sleazy he is. Also part of the frat and several of the members do not like him. Harasses the girls that show up. I can see him cutting off people during class or talking over them. Type of guy to say "not to be devil's advocate, but..."

Pearson - Culinary Degree

Came back to school to get his culinary degree. Mostly keeps to himself but has become acquainted with a few people and is actually decent friends with some. Pretty serious about his studies but is also chill, you can just tell he's extremely passionate about what he does. Excuses himself from hangouts by saying "sorry I got a pie due at 3." Loves it when he's able to sell some of his products back to students/general public and see how people react. Dreams of opening his own restaurant so he takes the accounting/marketing aspects of his degree very seriously.

Abigail Roberts - Education Major

I CAN JUST SEE IT YK. I can totally see her being a teacher, and she's super hardworking. I feel like her schedule is jam packed so she hardly ever has time for fun. Studies, does homework, student teaching, and takes care of herself and her son. So yeah imagine how busy she is all the time. Occasionally leaves Jack with his grandparents for a night of fun but that is few and far in between. Joined a sorority for support but wouldn't live in the house. Lives in the same complex as Arthur and they get along, sometimes he offers to babysit Jack. Drops off food for her when she's real busy with her studies. NEVER late to class. And besides handling ALL THIS, she'd work as a waitress at a restaurant by campus. Talk about hard working.

Sadie Adler - Agricultural Sciences

Definitely moved to live on campus from a rural town to pursue her degree. Joined the sorority early on but dorms. Suffered a breakup and found solace in the community the girls provided. Works at a local supermarket and volunteers at a community garden nearby. Her dorm is full of potted plants. Became really good friends with Arthur through Abigail, who has her over at times. I feel like she'd be asked on dates frequently but she always turns em down because she's still struggling to accept her breakup. I'm not making it a death because this AU isn't that BRUTAL. Argues with the boys often. Pearson frequents the supermarket she works at and she always makes a comment on the strange ingredients he buys. Thus leading to a weird tense air between them that they never directly address. Enjoys her coursework and never falls behind. She's on top of that shit. Also very outspoken in class.

Karen Jones - Biological Sciences

PREMED BABYYYY. On the path to becoming a nurse. She procrastinates a lot, is often late to class, BEGS her professors for extensions. Truth is she's a party girl and she will NEVER give up that party life. Constantly at several different frat parties, gets black out drunk on Saturdays, and on Sundays she's studying for her bio exam on Monday. Complains to her sorority sisters about boys, particularly Sean, to the point where they all HATE any man she gets involved with. And the next time they see Sean in public they're all glaring DAGGERS at him. Parties aside she does her work even if she puts it off... Her grades are decent, definitely passing, but everyone tells her she's gonna need to do better if she wants to go to med school. I can see her working at a retail store like Walgreens. Most miserable cashier you'll ever see. Probably lets you walk out with your items for free if she's particularly pissed off at work that day.

Tilly Jackson - Physics Major

SHE IS A SMART GIRL. One of the most hardworking on this list. Her grades are top notch and she don't play about studying. I can see her offering tutoring for math and even getting paid for it. She is not one to be underestimated when it comes to her academic abilities. Occasionally parties (aka gets dragged along by Karen) and enjoys herself, but I can't see her being a major party animal. Offers Karen lots of advice as well as helping the girls with math assignments when they need it. Joins study groups as well as math clubs. Works at a cafe on campus where Mary-Beth and Lenny visit her occasionally. Generally well organized. Has her shit together.

Mary-Beth Gaskill - Literature Major

ALWAYS has her nose in a book. Becomes extremely engaged in class discussions and has probably read every single book required for the semester already. Works at a bookstore and frequents the campus library. Is on the chiller side of partying but still accompanies the girls. She's very reserved but can be quite friendly. Writes fanfiction in the back of class while her professors think she's just passionately writing a report. Always gets extensions from Dutch, always. Even when she doesn't need em. I can see her reading a lot of philosophy books. Also an Otessa Moshfegh fan. Colleen Hoover is her guilty pleasure. Runs a blog about the books she reads. I can also imagine her being part of the school paper. Real close with Lenny as well, often hangs out with him at the cafe Tilly works at.

Molly O'Shea - Cosmetology

Shows up to her 8 AM with a BEAT face. Full face of makeup, decked head to toe in designer: designer purse where she keeps her macbook, designer shoes, outfit, accessories, etc. Probably wears brands you've never even heard of. Has a crush on Dutch, only reason she has perfect attendance in his class. Has a grudge towards Mary-Beth. Dorms for sure, even though she'd be able to afford housing nearby. The only times she's at the dorm is in the morning getting ready for class or at night to sleep. Hardly talks to her roommate either, not even a hey. Gained the stuck up rich girl reputation from her peers. Seen at cafes in between classes and is always alone. Is out of town and has been struggling to make friends. Lots of guys ask her out on dates and she only accepts when she's bored and wants a free meal. WILL make y'all go to a steakhouse, WILL order the most expensive thing on the menu.

Dutch Van Der Linde - English/Philosophy Professor

This guy definitely speaks about philosophy with a PASSION. His class is very engaging, though I do believe he'd play favorites with a few female students... This goes for both classes. Constant open ended discussions. Type of professor to ask you "but what do the blue curtains mean...?" Hardass with assignments unless you're one of those favored female students. No late assignments with him ever. You either turn it in at the deadline or you don't ever. I feel like he'd forget to take attendance frequently despite being a hardass about that too. Probably the type of professor that tries to integrate himself with the student body and try to fit in. Mildly successful.

Hosea Matthews - Theatre Professor

THE SWEETEST, KINDEST, MOST COMPASSIONATE PROFESSOR. ALWAYS excuses late assignments and very lenient, will not deduce points. His class is very fun and engaging as well! Does what Dutch tries to do and makes genuine connections with his students while keeping it professional. Tells his students they can always talk to him and come for advice. Frequently has lunch with Dutch and Susan and talks up just how great his classes are. Frequents the library and local bookstores; also goes to the cafe Tilly works at. I also feel like a lot of his relationships would have a fatherly air around them, like he's a second dad for a few of the students (we know who...).

Leopold Strauss - Business Professor

YOU CANNOT TELL ME HE WOULDN'T UGH. Probably a super boring class I'm not gonna lie. His accent would probably make it hard for some students to understand what he's saying, not to mention he probably speaks super softly and not loud enough for everyone to hear. He should've retired by now but he refuses to. There is no syllabus week with him, you got homework on the first day. But it's probably not even hard c'mon. Sean is probably the most lively thing about his class, but he's definitely falling asleep in there frequently. Always late to his own class, doesn't even say why, just gets into lecturing. NEVER seen without a cup of coffee. Sometimes there will be long moments of silence between lectures as he tries to figure out the technology. Falls asleep in his car after class.

Orville Swanson - Theology Professor

Also a super chill professor. He's probably super open to his classes about his struggles. He's able to facilitate well structured discussions and keep things civilized amongst his students. I feel like it could get boring because it's mostly lectures and slide shows but he'd still find a way to keep his students engaged, especially on discussions. I feel like he'd also be lenient about assignments, but his assignments would be rather large. Back to back papers. Type of professor to say hi to you in the halls or outside of campus and ask about your day. 10/10 guy.

Uncle - Biology Professor

How is he still working here. HOW hasn't he retired. WHY hasn't he retired. SOMEONE PLEASE make him retire. There are pros and cons. You will learn NOTHING in his class, so if you're unfortunate enough to land his class you better drop that shit as soon as possible. If you for some reason stay, you must be some sort of masochist. Probably has the best stories. As soon as you think he's about to start lecturing he goes on a tangent about a story that happened to him the other day. He has weekly tests and you might as well teach yourself the material because his ass definitely isn't doing it. Also has plenty of labs so he can leave you all to your own devices amongst each other while he sits at his desk and does who knows what. You can probably find him sleeping in a student lounge at any time of the day. Also the frat guys have definitely run into him at the liquor store.

Susan Grimshaw - History Professor/Sorority Mother

She's hard on you but only because she cares. Isn't very lenient when it comes to assignments but she's involved with her students. If she sees you struggling she'll pull you aside and ask what's up and figure out a plan to help you out in her class. Likes to remind her students she isn't their mommy but has a very motherly air surrounding her. And she is VERY on top of her girls. As a sorority mother, she makes sure they eat well, stay on top of studies, and deals with parents. Encourages the girls to keep up the general cleanliness of the house and tells them to work as a unit. Extremely proud of each of them.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption community #van der linde gang college au #van der linge gang #red dead redemption au #red dead redemption 2 college au #red desd redemption college au #arthur morgan #John marston #Dutch van der linde #Charles Smith #javier escuella #sean macguire #lenny summers #bill williamson #micah bell #Pearson #abigail roberts #sadie adler #karen jones #tilly jackson #mary beth gaskill #hosea matthews #molly o'shea

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this for the challenge of @footprintsinthesxnd I hope you like it!

It is a Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x female!reader imagine.

I chose the song ‘Champagne Problems’ by Taylor Swift for this.

Thank you @lt-natrace for proofreading!

Warnings: angst, failed relationship

Jake’s family had never really liked you.

You were much like Jake in many ways, career-driven, headstrong and deeply emotional, which were exactly the things his family chose to dislike.

You had met Jake at the Navy Fighter Weapons School, as the two of you graduated the same year.

You had fallen in love with each other pretty much immediately, with the two of you living together and going steady for a few years.

You were the couple anyone brought up when talking about a steady relationship, even though his family openly disliked you.

After years of you being with Jake two things happened simultaneously, that couldn’t be more different from each other.

While you talked to Jake about your relationship he suggested settling down and having a family.

It was something that scared you and that you didn’t want at all, nevertheless you kept quiet, going along with what Jake had to say.

You discomfort grew while Jake talked to his family without your knowledge, receiving the family heirloom ring that was supposed to be your engagement and his family’s blessing in the process.

The new year came around and with it a dire need for you to talk to your boyfriend, who didn’t know how you felt.

You were both invited to a New Year’s Eve ball the Navy was hosting and the two of you got ready together, happy to spend your last few hours of the year in the company of your good friends, your fellow pilots.

It was 11:47 pm when Jake pulled you with him onto the balcony, a broad smile on his handsome face as he found a more private spot in the cool night air.

You were grateful for the change of scenery and the breather, until he went down on one knee.

Jake smiled at you though his eyes portrayed an air of seriousness you seldom saw on his face.

“Ever since I first laid eyes on you in our first class at TOPGUN I knew that you would be the love of my life,” he said as his hands moved from their resting place on his knee to fumble with the pocket in his dress trousers, to retrieve a ring box from it.

“I’ve prepared a speech and all,” he chuckled before starting to recite it in the most honest and most lovable way possible.

Your heart hurt and it made your entire body ache as you had to listen to what you longed to hear, until he came to your dreaded part.

“I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, starting with now. Baby, please marry me. I could think of nothing better than marrying and starting a family with you,” he finished, and your face fell even more.

You knew Jake had known from the start of his speech that something was wrong but he kept going until the end, devoted to what he had to say.

You had tears in your eyes when you declined his proposal but you didn’t say much more, deciding that him hating you would be much easier for him than finding out you wanted different things in life.

By 11:59 pm Jake was left forlorn and alone on the balcony as random people joined him to watch the fireworks that appeared a mere few seconds later.

While people hugged, cheered and kissed around him Jake left the venue, taking the night train he had booked in his tuxedo, to get home to his family.

While you hadn’t kept many secrets from Jake in the time you were together you had kept one piece of information from him; the fact that you had to go on deployment for an indefinite amount of time mere days after New Year’s Eve.

When Jake returned from his parents’ home prepared to talk to you and fight for your relationship and love you were already gone, to Lemoore for a while as he heard from your mutual friends.

You came back to TOPGUN when you were ordered to a few years later.

You had seriously missed your friends and Jake as well, even though you had broken off any form of conversation he had initiated, blocking his number just to make it easier for the both of you.

You were devastated but you knew so was he, you had seen the way he had stood on the balcony with his ring in his pocket, and your picture in his wallet burning through it like hot coal.

Bob, Nat, Bradley, Mickey and Javy were excited to have you back even though their eyes roamed the room in search of Jake, whom you couldn’t find either in the entire ballroom.

You were grateful to reacquaint yourself with your friends without the discomfort of Jake being able to come by any time, until you spotted him, just like all those years ago standing on the balcony.

A shiver ran down your spine as you watched him kneel down in front of a beautiful woman, whose face screamed of happiness.

You couldn’t do anything but stand and stare as you watched Jake’s proposal, this time out of a much different perspective.

Your friends gradually turned around to see what you were looking at and they kept staring as well, until Jake and the unnamed woman fell into each other’s arms, holding each other as Jake slipped the ring he had intended for you on her finger.

When the waiter came by you didn’t just take a flute of champagne but the entire bottle, turning around and excusing yourself as you left the room, once again with tears in your eyes.

He’d found a girl you knew his family would love, and you had developed an affinity for champagne, just to drink your feelings away.

tagging: @wildbornsiren @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @hederasgarden @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bespinnn @softromantist @malindacath @oliviah-25 @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @marvelandotherfandomimagines @natasharomanoffisbaebby @luckyladycreator2 @blue-aconite @tipsykeen @airedale17 @iangiemae @dempy @princessofglitterland @teti-menchon0604 @butaneandthebeast @katesmadness @call-sign-hurricane @kajjaka @kkrenae @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern

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#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #Spotify

[talesofesther]

we're still here

Max Mayfield x Reader

Summary: Max broke both your hearts with the hopes of keeping you safe, but now the pain and loneliness are becoming too much.

Requested by anon: What do you think about a scenario where Max breaks up with her gf because all the thing going on with El was way too dangerous and she didn't want R involved in it, but when Billy dies Max ends up sneaking into Reader's room saying that she doesn't want to lose her too?

A/N: A little something with this sweet girl before I fully dive into another big story with Eddie <3.

Masterlist

The words you had written in your textbook were becoming blurry. After around two hours of sitting at your desk to finish your literature assignment, it was a long-awaited relief when you finally wrote down the last sentence.

You let go of your pen with disdain, bringing both hands up to rub at your tired eyes, you felt a stinging sensation for looking at those damn words for so long.

The clock on your bedside table read 11:47 PM when you glanced at it. Technically you should be asleep already, you knew the lack of rest would be bugging you tomorrow. Closing your textbook and throwing it inside your backpack, you started to get ready for bed.

You were stacking up your clothes from earlier today on top of your desk chair — not having the energy to bother putting them in your wardrobe — when you heard a quiet click.

You frowned, looking around your room and waiting if the noise would happen again. And it did. After two more clicks, you realized that someone was throwing rocks at your window.

With an annoyed sigh, you begrudgingly made your way to your window, ready to scold whoever wanted to disturb you on a Tuesday at fucking midnight.

The night sky was clear today, with only a few scattered clouds about, making room for countless stars. It was cold out, and given that your house was surrounded by trees, it was even colder.

Your room was on the second floor, so you looked down in search of the intruder; and the anger you were feeling dissipated just like that, most of it, at least.

Max Mayfield stood on top of the freshly cut lawn, arms hugging her body, which was covered only by a thin blue jacket, as she shivered from the cold, looking up at you with an expression you couldn't really read from this far.

Your story with Max was… bittersweet; if you'd ever had to choose a word for it. You'd met her at school, not long after she first came to town. You didn't exactly see eye to eye in the beginning, but after a couple of months, some bickering, teasing from friends and just a smidge of denial, she had finally asked you out.

Falling for each other happened so naturally, that you and Max had been dating even before any of you thought to put a name to it. It didn't last long though; after five months, Max broke things off, breaking both your hearts along with it. She hadn't given you a solid reason for it, and that's what infuriated you most, just a halfheartedly mumbled excuse of "it's better this way."

You didn't know Max had chosen your safety over the sake of her heart. You didn't know she preferred to have you hating her, than not having you at all.

"What… what are you doing here, Max?" You managed to ask, peering over your window.

Max curled in on herself, glancing down at her feet with a gulp before looking up at you again. "I just- wanted to talk?" More than anything, her words sounded like an unsure question, Max cursed herself for the tone.

"Can I come up?" She pursed her lips, half expecting you to say no.

and you were going to say no, but something in her voice stopped you. Her tone was vulnerable, breaking on a few syllables.

"Yeah, whatever." You waved a dismissive hand at her, moving away from your window and sitting on top of your bed, hugging the covers closer to you.

She struggled a little, you heard it, and held yourself back from helping. Eventually, she managed her way up, climbing through your window quite gracefully.

Max's worn sneakers were wet and a little muddy because of the rain that had poured down earlier, she followed your gaze to her feet and grimaced, making quick work of removing them as a faint blush painted her freckled cheeks.

You didn't like the way your heart sped up at the sight of her. It felt awkward. You sitting cross-legged on your bed and Max just standing there in the middle of your room, it felt painfully awkward. Tension hanging heavily in the air, from memories you both grew too attached to let go of.

You cleared your throat, not being able to meet her eyes. "Why did you come here, Max?"

Max sighed, forcing her words out; "this is gonna sound selfish but, I wanted to see you." Her voice grew quieter as she spoke, fingers mindlessly fidgeting with the hem of her jacket.

You couldn't hold back the scoff that escaped you. "See me? Not even two months after you tell me to fuck off, and you want to see me again?" There was a bite to your tone, anger dripping from your words because you were hurt, and you missed her, and you hate how much you want to kiss her now. "I mean, you gotta make up your mind."

"I didn't tell you to fuck off." Max shot back, offended.

"Might as well have." You mumbled under your breath.

Honestly, Max wasn't sure what she was expecting by coming here. From your point of view, it looked just like that, like she couldn't make up her mind if she wanted you or not. It was much more than that though. After watching Billy die, the pain of not having you by her side was too much. She thought she could soldier through it, for your safety's sake.

She tried, and after a few panic attacks and nights crying herself to sleep; she failed.

The cold from the wooden floor started to seep through her socks as Max shifted from one foot to the other. "I know it wasn't fair, but I was trying to keep you safe okay? If we were together you… I was afraid you'd get hurt." She confessed, stepping out of her comfort zone in hopes to make things right.

A shaky breath left you, finally looking up to meet the bright eyes you adored. From up close, you saw them glistening under the light of your bedroom. Her hair, pulled back in a messy braid, framed her face lovingly.

"I don't get it, we agreed to have each other's backs." You said softly.

Max closed her eyes, brushing the sleeve of her jacket under her nose. "That's not what I'm talking about." She seemed to ponder over her next words, glancing away from you and out the window. Her teeth nibbled onto her lower lip before she finally spoke again; "there are… things that I haven't told you yet, dangerous things. I thought they weren't coming back, but then they did and- and I didn't want to risk you getting hurt, and I mean really hurt."

There was a deep frown on your face as you tried to make sense of what she was saying.

Max gulped, and a tear ran down her cheek when she blinked.

You got up from the bed.

"So I just- I broke us up," a sob cut through Max's words before she was able to continue, "because I couldn't stomach the thought of watching you die, but then… then Billy… and I just.." tears were running freely down her cheeks, red-rimmed eyes looking down at her feet for fear of what you might say. She was going to say more, try and crawl her way out of the grave she'd dug for herself, but her words were cut short by the feeling of your arms closing around her.

You didn't think it would hurt so much to see Max this distressed, but it did. You'd never stopped caring about her anyway. You couldn't hold yourself back from bringing her close, embracing her to you with a tight grip. "It's okay, Max. I'm right here, with you." You breathed out, letting your head rest on her shoulder.

Max clung to you just as strongly, her hands clutching at the fabric of your pajama shirt. The gesture came as a relief for both of you, one craving the closeness just as much as the other.

Running a hand up and down her back, you felt Max lean almost all her weight onto you. "We can talk about this in the morning, yeah?" You suggested. The fact she'd be spending the night went unsaid. You weren't going to let her leave, not like this, not yet sure about what happened, but with the feeling that it was much bigger than it seemed.

Nuzzling her head onto your neck, Max nodded. "I'm sorry, I never wanted to leave you. I promise, I never wanted us to end."

Part of you was saying you shouldn't believe her. Another part, bigger and with a constant beating heart for her and her only; told you the tears lacing her voice were too real to hold any lies.

"We're still here though, aren't we?" You pulled away, smiling softly and bringing your hands up to her cheeks. You wiped away the stray tears, tracing the constellation of freckles underneath. You had missed her.

Max chuckled, ducking her head with a blush, chasing your touch. For the first time in weeks, her heart felt light with hope. "Yeah, I guess we are."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Max’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @erizo-chorizo @blackwidowismylove

Let me know if you wanna be added to her taglist.

#max mayfield x reader #max mayfield #max mayfield x female reader #max mayfield imagine #strangerthingsedit #stranger things #max mayfield x you #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #max mayfield fanfic #maxmayfieldedit #sadie sink #stranger things x reader #st #my story #max mayfield headcanons

[melloween-candie]

Home [L.G]

Yandere Lip Gallagher x Fem/Reader

Requested // Request Rules // Prompt list

"hello! could i please request a yandere!lip gallagher x fem!reader with the prompts #11 “how many kids do you want?” and #5 “this is your home now.” thank you so much! 💖"

A/n - Hope you like it~ 💕

Submitted by @flowercrowns-goodvibes

Warning! Yandere behavior, Murder, Drugging, Cheating, Bad language, Manipulation, Delusion

Word count: 1,546

Shameless Masterlist

Fandom Masterlists

/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/

***Narrator's Pov***

You had Lip has been happily dating for about five years now, and you never thought that anything could go wrong. Until Karen shows up...

Karen wasn't really a girly girl, and she definitely wasn't your friend. You only tolerated her because Lip, your boyfriend, liked her. Not in that way, of course... right?

Time skip!~

***Y/n's Pov***

Welp, you were wrong. A few days later, you found your boyfriend in Karen's house. As per usual. Though what you didn't expect to find was him in Karen's bedroom. Her door was closed, and her mom wasn't home.

As you got closer to the door, you heard him... moan?

Lip?

You opened the door to a horrific sight. You saw your boyfriend of five years screwing Karen Jackson, the school slut. All you could feel was absolute disgust. He promised you he wouldn't cheat because every relationship you've had in the past ended because your partner cheated.

You couldn't even cry. You had your suspicions but you didn't want to believe them.

You left the house immediately with Lip at your tail.

"Y/n! Wait!"

Time skip!~

You just lay on your bed. Your eyes were still wet from crying. It was currently 9:32 pm, and Lip was still bombing your phone with messages. You couldn't bare to look at your phone. You didn't want to risk seeing his messages.

Time skip!~

It was early morning. You got up feeling drained as ever. Instinctively you looked at your phone. You saw all the messages Lip sent. There were so many you didn't feel like reading it all. Most of them were missed calls anyways.

You started skimming through the messages...

"Y/n, please answer your phone! What you saw. I can explain!!!"

That's what they all say...

"Y/n baby, I'm sorry. I know what I did was wrong, but please hear me out!"

A few missed calls later~

"Dame it, Y/n! If you think you're leaving me- I won't let you."

That was the last message he sent. It had a strange feeling to it that you didn't really like, but you just ignored it anyways and went on with your day.

Time skip!~

***Narrator's Pov***

You were currently in school talking with your friends as you grabbed some stuff out of your locker.

"I can't believe he would do that." F/f said. (First friend)

"Seriously? I saw it a mile away. Er... no office, Y/n." Said S/f (Second friend), "Though you do tend to attract those kinds of guys... Just saying."

You just sighed as you walked towards your classroom.

Luckily for you, you didn't have to deal with Lip or Karen at all. You didn't have a single class with them.

Time skip!~

It was now the end of the school day. You waited for your friends by the school entrance. Normally Lip would walk you home, but after that night, you chose to ignore him.

You ignored all his tactics today. He tried everything to get your attention. To you, he almost seemed desperate. Knowing Lip, he was normally never desperate. He always tried to play it cool, so it was a bit weird, but you brushed it off.

Ten more minutes passed by, and your friend still wasn't to be found. Most of the students were already gone. You decided to go check up on them. It was easy since they had the same last-period class.

Once you got up there, you saw a note on both of their desks. From afar, you just thought that they wrote it for you, saying, "Sorry we had to leave early." But that would have been weird because they could have just texted you. And even if their phones were dead, they could have walked up to you to tell you in person.

You felt somewhat uneasy about it... You looked around the room to see if anything or anyone else was there; nothing.

You took the piece of paper off your F/f's desk. It said.

"Y/n were outside behind the bleachers from the football field."

Then the other one, from S/f's desk, said. "Please hurry." With blood sprinkled on it. It freaked you out, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions.

Time skip!~

As you walked up toward the bleachers. Your eye saw something unusual; blood... It was dripping down the staircase. Your heart started pounding now... You're not normally the type to get scared. Usually, you're the calm friend who never ever screams.

But you couldn't help but agape your mouth in udder shock. You were completely petrified at the sight before you. But before you could scream, someone put a damp cloth over your mouth.

Every word you spoke was muffled as you tried to get out of this man's grasp. Slowly, in turn, you started to fall into a deep sleep. As the last thing you saw was your friends hanging from the bleachers. All bloodied up as if they were beaten.

Time skip!~

***Y/n's Pov***

You woke up feeling hazy. Your head was pounding, and your eyesight was still trying to get used to the light. You tried moving, but something refrained you from doing so. You couldn't speak either because a piece of cloth was tied around your mouth. Your hands were tied behind you. You could feel a cold metal pipe touching your back.

As your memories came back, you realized you weren't in your bedroom. You so desperately prayed that what had happened to your friends was all just a bad dream.

You looked around closer. There were pipelines on the top of the roof. The floor didn't have any flooring. It was just cold concrete. There were boxes and some tools, and the only light source was a bulb swinging around the center of the room. The room was damp and quiet. The only thing you heard was a droplet of water consistently hitting the floor, creating a puddle. You came to the conclusion that this room was a basement.

You started freaking out. Thinking about every possibility as to why anyone would have done this to you. Then you told yourself to come down. Taking deep breaths. You proceeded to brainstorm.

You were a top-notch honor student, head of your class with Lip right behind you. You knew he could have easily surpassed you because you once had to take tutoring classes with him. That's how you two met. You couldn't think of any reason why anyone would want to kidnap you and do this to you and your friends. You never did anything wrong.

Then you heard a creak. Someone was walking down that stairs. You were extremely frightened. Instantly you closed your eyes shut. Not ready to face death.

"Y/n" Instinctively, you opened your eyes. You knew that voice all too well. You didn't want to believe it. Tears started to form in the corner of your eyes. It was Lip. He was holding a bucket. It was empty.

"Good, you're awake." He said as he placed the bucket on top of the puddle. The droplet of water now hits the bucket, making a louder, more eerie noise.

You tried to speak, but everything you said only came out muffled.

He came closer to you. Whipping away your tears with a smile as he removed the cloth from your mouth. Your face was a mess. He grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and whipped it at the corner of your mouth, removing any former saliva that got on it.

"Lip! What the hell?!" You yelled. "Untie me this instant!" You wiggled around, trying to get free.

"I can't." He said. "If I do, you'll leave me."

"Then why!" You screamed. "Why cheat on me? If you didn't want me to leave!" Another tear rolled down your face.

Lip took the cigarette out of his mouth. Puffing up some smoke before he spoke. "Temptation, I guess?"

More tears rolled down your cheeks. You couldn't feel more angry at that moment.

The only reason was because he was tempted?!

"What, was I not enough for you?!" You screamed.

"Oh, Y/n, you were always more than enough. What Karen and I had will never compare to what you and I have. I love you, Y/n." He then tried to kiss you. Only for you to wiggle away.

"Well, I don't love you!" You screamed. "You're the reason why my friends are dead-"

"NO!" He yelled, shutting you up. "No, you killed your friends, Y/n. I warned you. Did you even read your text messages?" He smirked, knowing he had the upper hand in the conversation now.

"Listen, Y/n. We can start all over again! We can talk about our dreams, talk about our futures! We can ask stupid questions like, how many kids do you want? And make it real one day. Just like old times." He gave you a soft smile. He truly was lost in his own fantasy now.

"You're crazy!" You said. "I want to go home!"

"Oh, Y/n. have you not realized already?" Lip got up. Towering over you, he said. "This is your home now." He then left, leaving you completely hopeless.

A/n

Really hope this didn't disappoint!

#shameless #lip gallagher #fanfiction #lip gallagher x reader #prompts #obsession #shameless fans #lip x reader #temptation #yandere behavior #requested

[noctilucous-sunni]

the very tiring, horrible, not at all good day where you were not a track star [sagau]

Part 2. [masterlist]

warnings: swearing, i couldn’t create a cool title, cultish behaviours???, implied violence???, i don’t know what this is and i don’t want to find out, old crusty writing skills reborn!

info/tropes: imposter!au but with humor??, light crack, light comedy, cult!au, gn!reader

notes: like i said in a previous post, ive been on a writing hiatus for 2 years! Which is why this is very self-indulgent and me simply brushing up on my writing skills. It’s rather bad but i had fun writing it haha 🥴🤭 also its my first time writing for sagau! this was my originally intended first writing post bc it was the first thing i wrote for genshin but then i never finished it and then i posted hands as my first written post and here we are, back to the beginning :) i haven’t edited much of this, i just added on to it so my writing skills (and any characterization) in here are super crusty oof.

feat. character(s); diluc

It had been a painfully normal day, and maybe that was the source of all your current problems. You had just completed some exams and instead of studying yet again, you decided to take a short break. As you got home, dragging yourself towards your bedroom, you huffed, letting go of your bags and then collapsed onto the bed quite comfortably. After a few minutes of just lying there and rethinking your life choices, you finally decided to sit up and take out your computer. You hadn’t played Genshin in a while and you felt like rewarding yourself with finishing a quest or redecorating your teapot.

As usual, you quickly and painfully lost track of time. When you checked your phone, you saw the time and winced. 11:30 pm. Did no one call for you? That’s quite odd actually, you would usually be berated by your mom to go downstairs to socialise and eat. How did time fly by so fast? Wait, did you even eat yet? You couldn’t sneak out now, you’d be caught and chastised for staying up on a school night. Instead, you and your growling stomach simply had to deal with it. If your stomach could text emojis to you it would probably send you an angry face. You quickly closed your laptop and placed it on your desk. As you turn off the lights, you yawn before wrapping yourself in a cosy blanket burrito. Not too bad of a day, you supposed.

If only you had known what was going to happen. Your future self was probably laughing at you right now.

As sunlight playfully peeks from behind clouds, you shuffle in your sleep, wishing for five more minutes. When it gets warm, your brain finally starts to wake up. Sitting up, you frown as a calming breeze rustles your hair. Wait.

A calming breeze? You didn’t leave any windows open. HECK, you didn’t even HAVE any windows in your bedroom. Your half-asleep brain was barely processing anything, let alone allow you the energy to sit up and stretch your arms.

Why.. was there grass.. and trees.. and not your bedroom? And was it animated? The grass was nice though, you remarked, threading your fingers through the grass strands. You’re touching grass haha. Albeit, probably not real grass but… still.

You chuckle. Maybe I should go out and touch grass. You think, laughing to yourself because this was absolutely ridiculous. YOU KNEW that you probably would be terrible at surviving in those sagau fics you always read. Thank god this wasn’t that. Phew.

You shake your head, but the very animated grass in front of you hasn't changed. Haha. This is funny. Wake up brain, hello??? You thought, before your face falls. Light panic and worry set on your face. You rub your eyes once more but nothing changes and a worrying realisation sneaks into your thoughts.

No… No! That was crazy talk! You weren’t in a game! That would be insane, and concerning and…

Holy fuck, you were in a game. HOLY-

Genshin, to be exact but YOU KNEW exactly where you were. Windrise?? You pushed the thought away.

Shit. Shit shit shit! This was bad. Bad!! If this was anything like those sagau fics that you adored reading.. then… Well, you were screwed. Hopelessly, horribly, utterly, completely fucked. Only god could help you now.

Huh. Wait, did this mean that you were god now?? DID THAT MEAN THAT YOU COULD ONLY HELP YOURSELF? WHAT GOOD WOULD THAT BE?? To be totally honest, you had no idea if you were but it wouldn’t hurt to check. It actually probably would hurt but still sounds better than finding out through being stabbed by a guard or something, you pondered.

While deep in thought, something cold had nudged your shoulder. You instantly jumped, and let out a yell before realizing that was a very bad and stupid decision. Hoping nobody heard you, you look at where that weird cold thing had been, laughing softly. It was only a couple of cryo slimes. They were really quite cute.

Your hand hovered over one of them, reaching to pat them hesitantly, before letting down your guard. The fact that they weren’t attacking was good wasn’t it?

“Over there!”

Ah. And you thought that you could get away before anyone would notice you. Of course someone heard you. You should have known. The shouts had begun to increase in volume and well… you should probably start running right? The cryo slimes all get very defensive around you and push you in the opposite direction of the approaching guards. They basically do your own work for you when you are too frozen to act. You wish that this was a really weird out of body experience right now but it was starting to be evidently clear that this ‘dream’ or whatever it was, seemed too vivid and realistic that it had to be real. This is not the type of shit you could make up, but oh god you wish it was.

Still unmoving, you watch as guards and angry knights approach, yelling loudly.

“Hi? Heh.” You say and wave awkwardly. What were you doing?? MOVE!! RUN!! You internally yelled at your brain to make your legs function. Oh… you were so fucked. That's when everything starts to get a little too real and you are thrust into action mode. A spear heads your way, barely missing your side by a meter. Another lands right in front of you.

“HOLY SHIT! FUCK! FUCK, IM GOING, OH MY GOD-”

They had horrible aim, fortunately. Really, someone needed to improve the training for these guards and knights. THIS WAS NOT THE TIME TO REMARK ON THEIR SPEAR THROWING SKILLS!! You shook your head, jumping into action.

Your feet instantly start moving of their own accord and you continue to let out an excruciating list of curses that even a sailor would be surprised to hear. While heading past Springvale, your legs have already started failing you and as you near the Statue of The Seven near Dawn Winery, you collapse, your body screaming for a break.

Breaths come out in short pants and you lie on your back, looking at the clouds above before closing your eyes briefly. Maybe the guards were gone… and if they weren’t then… Well, you needed this break. The thought of “what if they weren’t” makes you crack one open. But it only leads you to noticing a casted shadow on the ground that wasn’t there before and you instantly get in a defensive position with your hands in front of your face.

“Stop! Don’t come closer! I.. will… punch you in the face!” You shout hesitantly towards whoever you presume is towering over you. When nothing happens, you look up confused, only to see Diluc, mirroring your own expression of confusion.

“Your grace?”

“Whoa, you are so pretty, what the fuck.” You said absentmindedly before covering your mouth with your hand. “Oh shit. I mean… uh..” You stumble over your words as you stare at the pyro vision holder in awe and then wince.

Diluc blushes lightly, and he coughs, looking away for a mere second before returning his gaze to you.

“Your Grace…” He starts to say before hearing you wince.

Frowning, he crouches down to your level to inspect you better. “Are you alright? Have you been injured?”

You flinch lightly as he gets closer and then you try to scoot backwards a bit, still suspicious of how much he is not trying to kill you. Unlike those guards that were chasing you earlier. How rude.

“I’m not going to harm you, your grace… I’m simply worried, I…”

“I’m fine.. but… didn’t you hear some news about an imposter??” You ask, cautiously waiting for his answer.

He sighs, shaking his head. He starts speaking but you end up not listening and instead simply stare at him, how he looks absolutely gorgeous and how his hair looks so pretty and soft and you almost reach your hand out to touch it. And this is when your head and memories became fuzzy.

It had become cold and wet all of a sudden?? You remember you had tried to stand up but then the ground met your face yet again, or very nearly did. And then it wasn’t really cold and wet?? You remember your legs and feet aching and then you simply became warmer?? Darkness clouded your vision soon after that. The timeline of events were very confusing to you and your poor brain was too exhausted and muddled from well, everything that had been occurring since you awoke.

Diluc looks at your unconscious form in his arms, after you previously attempted to stand. All of a sudden, he had to catch you haphazardly when you failed. He sighs, brushing some strands of your hair away from your sweaty and rain-soaked face. “Your grace..?” He calls worriedly, suddenly aware of how hot your forehead was, despite the rain cooling you down, it probably made you worse. The wine tycoon stands up, keeping you close in his arms as he hurries back to the Winery, not wanting to stay in the rain for too long, especially due to your current condition and health.

a/n: this was about 1.5k i think hehe. yes i am making a part two. hope you enjoyed whatever the hell this was hahaha.

#sunni writes #genshin impact x reader #diluc #gn!reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc x reader #sagau #sagau impostor au #imposter sagau #diluc sagau #diluc x gender neutral reader #light crack #i dont know how this is gonna go #it might flop but fuck that lol #anyways im tired now #diluc x y/n

[brave-and-gentle]

Angel vs. Devil: Reader x Jean Fluff Part 2

I got more ideas after I wrote the Ice Sculpture Fluff, so now this is a mini series - surprise! If you haven't read that yet, please read it here.

If you like this, be sure to check out my original character x Jean fic on Ao3 here

Pairings: femme reader x Jean

Summary: Weeks after your first kiss with Jean, you're wondering why nothing else has sparked. He's evasive about a night out with friends that he's not going to – and you decide to find out why.

Warnings: none, this all v cute fluff, a self-indulgence

Word count: ~4K

It's been weeks since your first kiss with Jean after seeing the ice sculptures together. Weeks – and nothing. You thought things might progress, but bar trivia nights were too big and crowded for much to happen, though you were still thoroughly enjoying them. You and Jean had kept up your schedule of meeting at the coffee shop twice a week for you to write and for him to draw, but it was all very platonic. At least, you thought. A couple times you swear you caught him staring at you, but as soon as you looked up he was buried in his sketchbook again.

On Wednesday nights, the coffee shop switched to wine after 5 pm, while you met on Saturday mornings and enjoyed your favorite coffee orders. Sometimes you chatted nearly the entire time. You learned a few more things about Jean – he switched back and forth between straight black coffee or sugary lattes – no in between. He almost quit the soccer team his first year of college because of the emotional stress, but Marco talked him into staying. He had a habit of squeezing his hands into fists when he was frustrated or anxious.

He learned a few things about you too – that you twirled your hair when you were stuck in writer's block, that you chose to Trost for college because you knew nobody from your high school would be there, and that you were a sucker for the baked goods at the cafe and wouldn't share with him.

Sasha is just waking up when you yell that you're heading out to the coffee shop with Jean.

“Have fuuuuun,” she teases. Though she's buried in blankets, you know she's winking. You told Sasha everything, and she's just as baffled as you – why hadn't Jean made another move? “Don't come back unless you've got some good Jean tea!”

“I'll do my best,” you roll your eyes and head out the door.

~

You smack Jean's hand out of the way as he tries to take a piece of your chocolate chip muffin.

“Funny that you and Sasha ended up as roommates, you're just as stingy as with food as she is,” he accuses in a playful tone. The Saturday morning sun streams in through the windows and over Jean, giving his hazel eyes even more warmth. He runs his fingers through his hair to push it out of his eyes and dives back into his sketch. Fuck, why is he so cute? Though you do notice dark purple circles under his eyes and wonder what's been keeping him up at night.

“You can buy your own,” you retort and tap your pen on his elbow. You take another bite of your muffin, still warm. The chocolate chips melt in your mouth. You put it back down on the plate to get back to your character development worksheet, but Jean interrupts you.

“Oh, you uh. . .” he trails off and you glance up to see him pointing to the corner of his mouth.

“Hmm? Oh.” You realize you must have chocolate from the muffin on your face. You lick around your lips and look down, refusing to make eye contact. “All good?”

“Ah, not quite, here.” Jean's long arm reaches over to you. You freeze and hold your breath. His thumb rubs the corner of your mouth with a gentle but strong touch. He lingers for a second and brushes your bottom lip and – someone at the front of the coffee shop yells your name.

“And Jean, you're here too!” Jean jerks his hand away from your face and turns around to see none other than Connie bounding over to your two-person table. He grabs another chair from a table and plops down.

“Why are you awake before 11 am?” Jean glares at his friend.

“Because it's the big day! Don't tell me you forgot!” Connie throws his hands up in excitement for what, exactly you're not sure. You and Jean exchange a blank look. “Not you too?? C'mon guys, the basketball game is tonight!” Shit. You did in fact completely forget this one. Normally you are so honored to be invited something that you remember every detail, but watching sports has never been your thing. The Trost Titans are hosting their rival, the Marley Warriors, which apparently is a big deal. Connie “knows a guy” and scored everyone tickets. “I need everyone there in Titans gear for good luck, or Reiner, Bert and Annie will never let me hear the end of it.” You remember that those three are from Marley.

“Ah, I'm not sure Connie, basketball's not really my thing. . .” you trail off and worry that you'll seem ungrateful since he already got everyone tickets. You might be up for it if it were a sporting event outside – that's the big reason you and Historia played intramural sand volleyball in college, but trying to pretend to care about basketball inside in arena surrounded by die-hard fans doesn't sound appealing in the slightest.

“It's no sweat,” Connie says your name, “think about it, or at least meet up at our place after.” You nod and consider that meeting up after could actually be fun. Connie, Eren and Armin all live together and you haven't been to their place yet – ironic considering Connie practically lives on the couch in your apartment with Sasha. “What about you Jean?”

“I already told you, I can't.” Jean doesn't look up from his sketch.

“What do you mean you can't??” Connie throws his arms up again.

“I mean, I can't. I have a thing.” His voice grows with irritation. You have to admit that meeting up after the game without Jean there sounds a little less fun, although maybe it'd be a good distraction from pining after him.

“What thing? Got a hot date tonight?” Connie presses. You notice Jean's tell tale sign of his free hand closing up in a fist.

“No, a work thing.”

“Whaaaat? Why you working on a Saturday?? Come out and play with us!”

“Because I have a work thing, Connie, now get off my back!” Jean tears his eyes away from his sketchpad to narrow his eyes at Connie.

“Geez,” Connie leans away from him. “Whatever got up your ass this morning must be sideways. Anyways, that's my coffee order.” He points to the barista at the counter “Hope to see you tonight.” Connie waves at you before he grabs two coffees, presumably the other for Sasha, and dashes out the door. You turn back to Jean, who's sending invisible laser beams at his sketch. You had never asked Jean what he was working on and vise-versa. It's like an unspoken agreement.

“So uh, what is your work thing tonight? If you don't mind sharing,” you ask with caution. He finally brings his head up but avoids eye contact.

“Ah, it's an open house fundraiser for the kids. We show their art like a gallery and there's a suggested entry fee. It's mostly their family and friends.” He shrugs. You perk up at this endearing side of Jean you haven't seen since the ice sculpture night.

“Oh, that's actually really cool. Will you or any of the other teachers have pieces on display?”

“Not sure yet. I'm going to head there early and see if I can finish something up.” He continues looking away from you and places his hand on his neck. “Anyways, you'll have fun at the basketball game?” He gives you a questioning glance.

“Mmm, like I said, not sure basketball is my thing.”

“Yeah, I hear that,” Jean says as he packs his sketchbook away. “It is a fun time though – you'll get to see Connie get completely sloshed and try to pick a fight with someone. And believe it or not, Annie gets pretty amped for the game.”

“That's almost intriguing enough,” you laugh. You had never seen Annie anything other than stoic. She and Armin are truly like the moon and the sun. “Would it be weird if I came to your fundraiser?” You blurt out the words before you realize the gravity of what you asked. Why does your brain keep short circuiting around this man? Jean pauses and grimaces.

“It'd probably be pretty boring for you, it's just a bunch of paintings made by melodramatic 13-year olds. You'll have more fun at the game. Anyways,” he tosses his backpack over his shoulder, “I'll see you at the after party.”

“See you,” you say with a monotone voice. It's like a punch to the gut.

~

With your phone in hand, you pace back and forth in your living room. Sasha and Connie had already left to pre-game. As soon as you get home, you call your best friend to see what she made of the situation.

“But why was he being so weird about it? It didn't even sound like he was going to have any of his art there,” you muse.

“I don't know,” Historia says your name, “maybe he was telling the truth, maybe it is really just boring.”

“But still. Wouldn't he want a friend to show up to support what he does? Am I overthinking this?” You flop down on the couch, which is covered in crumbs from Sasha and Connie's late night munchies. Historia would've cleaned it up already, but you don't mind the mess. It's a sign of life, of fun.

“Maybe. . . “ she trails off.

“What if I just went?” you propose. Apparently, your brain was still short circuiting.

“Why do you even want to go?”

“I'm not sure,” you confess. “Something just feels off with how evasive he was.” You hear a muffled yet abrasive voice in the background. “Is that Ymir?”

“Um, yeah, I hope it's okay – she heard everything.” At this point, you assume Ymir knows anything and everything you told Historia.

“HEY,” Ymir shouts your name. “I think you should do it! Go to the art thing. Fuck around and find out!”

“But he seemed like he didn't want anyone there,” Historia counters in her gentle way.

“Exactly,” Ymir retorts, “You gotta find out why.”

It was like talking with an angel and devil on your shoulder. And today, you choose the devil.

~

This was quite possibly one of the stupidest things you've ever done. You linger outside of the nonprofit art studio that Jean works at and shove your hands deep in your parka to protect against the cruel wind. Although really, zero degrees was quite balmy in comparison to the -20 degrees you and Jean braved for the ice sculptures. The slightly dimmed, warm lights beckon you inside as you wonder what in the actual hell you're doing here.

A gaggle of giggling girls interrupt your thoughts. They head for the front doors of the studio, give you a pointed look, and then collapse into giggles once again as they enter the building. Despite the nearly subzero temperatures, heat rushes to your face. Somehow, it's worse getting bullied post-school.

Another sharp wind cuts right through your parka and you can't take it anymore. You rush into the building and involuntarily hum with relief. You barely hear what the kid at the table propped up in front of the doors says to you. Without thinking, you shove a $10 bill at them and walk further into the studio. As expected for an arts nonprofit, it's small – not really a studio as much as a couple connecting classrooms someone tried to dress up as a studio. You dart behind the coat rack and scan the room for Jean, but he's no where to be seen. Parents mill about with their middle school kids.

You keep your parka on, in case you need a quick escape. Plus, it's fucking cold. You begin wandering through the sea of student paintings. A sign at the start explains that the theme is peace. Some paintings are right on the nose – a dove flying with an olive branch or a collage of psychedelic-looking peace signs. Others are a little more nuanced. You chuckle at the painting of a cat stretched out on a floor in a sun spot. You too would like to be sunning yourself and lazing about. Another is a woman, you assume the student's family member, baking bread. You cycle through the student showcase faster, eager to see if Jean has anything on display. Finally, you reach the back corner of the studio. Your eyes flit to the tags below the instructor's paintings. True to what Jean told you earlier, you don't see Floch's name. At the very last tag, you find “Saturday Coffee – Jean Kirstein.”

You look up and find yourself face to face with -

Yourself.

You are on display for everyone to see. Exposed. Your eyes widen and your lips part in shock. Jean has captured you perfectly – from the exact shade of your hair and eyes, to the way you hold your pen, even the slight scars on your skin from a severe case of acne in high school. In the painting, you're at the coffee shop writing. One hand holds your pen, the other your cup of coffee.. There's even a half-eaten muffin to the side.

I'm going to kill him.

A torrent of emotions flood you – violation, honor, embarrassment, humility. Footsteps approach behind you.

“It's beautiful, isn't it? That's my Jean boy's painting.”

You turn to find none other than Jean's mother. Even if she hadn't said anything, her eyes were a dead give away. Nobody else could have his exact shade of earth-like hazel eyes.

“Yeah, um – it's – it's” you stutter.

“Oh,” her eyes light up. “It looks just like you! Are you his muse?” Her laughter is like deep music, but she's interrupted by an aggravated voice.

“Mom, what are you doing here? I asked you not to come.”

Jean. Shit.

Heat flushes your face as you make eye contact with him. And goddamn, he looks good. He's wearing Vans, black loose fitting jeans, and an olive green sweater. Based on his facial expression, you're not sure which of you is more mortified at this situation.

“Oh – “ he says your name and softens, “you're here too.”

Horror and humiliation take over your body.

“So this is why you didn't want to come.” You jab your finger at your mirror image. Jean shrinks into his sweater.

“Look, I can explain - “

“Explain what? That you drew me without telling me?” You try to ignore his mother's worried eyes darting back and forth between you two. Your throat chokes up and you whip around and head back toward the front door. Jean follows you and says your name.

“Wait!”

“No!” You turn back around to face him, tears threatening. “Shit Jean, you at least could've fucking asked me first.”

Hurt flashes across his eyes, but you don't care.

“Ooooo!” The middle school students are entertained by the show you don't realize you're putting on. All too aware of every eye on you, you dash out the door. The now subzero temperatures suck the air out of your lungs. The door behind you doesn't slam shut as expected.

“Please, give me a chance to explain,” Jean pleads with you. You turn around and soften at the sight of him running after you with no coat on, his ears instantly red.

“That was humiliating,” you voice cracks.

“I know, I know.” Jean tips back and forth on his toes and shoves his hands deep in his pockets. Fuck men for getting pockets. “Look, I gotta stay here for a little bit longer, but can you give me a chance to explain? I'll take the painting down immediately.” You raise an eyebrow. Though you do want to know why, the devil in you wants run home and leave him hanging. It's what he deserves. “Meet me at the brewery around the corner? Beers on me? Please?”

This time, you choose the angel.

~ ~ ~

By the time Jean gets to the brewery, you've already guzzled nearly all of you raspberry sour. You take the last sip and eye him as he walks in, flushed from the sudden heat.

You knew exactly what brewery he had referenced as it was the same one that you, Historia and Ymir frequented after intramural volleyball games. After one game, you three sat in the back corner and Ymir scratched “Historia + Ymir + their pet” into the brick wall. You're still not sure how she managed to scratch all that and not get caught.

One year later, you sit in the same spot – but alone. Until Jean comes running up to you. He tears his knit cap and winter coat off, leaving his lengthening hair sticking up in all different directions.

“You started without me?” He points at your now empty glass.

“Mmmhmm.” You nod and cross your arms.

“Can I get you a refill?”

“Yep. Raspberry sour.” You push your glass toward him. A few moments later, he returns with your drink and an IPA for himself.

“Explain yourself,” you demand as soon as he sits down.

“Right,” he agrees and sighs, running his fingers through his hair before resting his stubbled chin on his hand. His face is still flushed, but probably not from the heat inside anymore. “I panicked, honestly. I'd been trying sketches all the time we'd been at the coffee shop, but I was getting no where with the peace theme. I already didn't show anything at the last showcase, which isn't a huge deal, it's mostly for the kids, but I figured it would be a good way to get back into it. Then one morning, it hit me that what I needed was right in front of me.” He gestures his hands to you. “It was you. You were writing in your notebook and drinking coffee, nothing special, just our usual Saturday morning, but you looked so at peace. It's different from how I normally see you.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your eyebrows. “Different how?”

“Oh, um,” he scratches his stubbled jaw. Fuck. You are not immune to the effects of a well defined jaw. “I guess when we're all in a big group, I've noticed that you're a little tense, like you have your guard up – which makes sense in a big group of people you don't know very well. So it's been nice to see you relaxed and in your element.” He shrugs, seemingly embarrassed of all he just divulged, of just how much he pays attention to you.

“Hmm.” You keep your arms crossed and nod, unwilling to think too deeply about Jean's accurate observations. “And you didn't bother to ask my permission because . . . ?”

Jean takes a deep breath. “Because I was staying up past midnight painting and I was terrified you'd think it's weird. I didn't want to risk not showing anything tonight, so instead I just hoped nobody would show up. And that's not an excuse, I know. It was a stupid decision. I should've given you the chance to say no. I've taken it down and I promise I won't show it to anyone without your permission.” He slumps down in his chair and looks to you for a response.

You clear your throat. “Thank you.” Jean's face loosens a little.

“Actually, you can have it, if you want. You have more of a right to it than I do.”

“No,” you shake your head and take a sip of your drink. “That feels weird. I can tell you put a lot of time into it, if nothing else.” He nods, but remains silent, unwilling to accept the compliment – probably out of shame. You're not sure if you're quite ready to forgive Jean, but you also don't want to talk about it anymore. “So what was the deal with your mom?”

Jean's head jerks up. “Ah, I owe her an apology too. She's come to every single one of my shows, but I was nervous that she'd get the wrong idea. The curse of living in the same city as your mom means she'll find out anyway,” he smirks.

“And what would be the wrong idea?” Your heart skips a beat as you wait for Jean to answer.

“That we're . . . together,” he purses his lips together. “We're friends, right?”

“Right,” is your knee jerk reaction. Disappointment and glee fill your body at the same time. Glee because you do in fact want to be friends with Jean. Disappointment because this clearly meant the kiss meant nothing to him. You remind yourself that you barely know Jean, yet the attraction is undeniable, especially as a broad grin stretches across his face, which sends you melting.

“Good. Thought I'd lost you there for a minute.”

You return his smile and give his long leg a gentle kick under the table. It's all too easy with how far they stick out. “Just don't do anything like that again,” you warn, half kidding, half serious.

“On my honor,” he says, placing his right hand on his heart in a mock salute. “But seriously, I feel like I owe you a lot more than a beer on me. Can I take you out around Trost sometime?”

Those are date words, but a small voice in the back of your head reminds you that this is an apology – and you don't want a pity hang out.

“You don't have to do that – hang out with me because you feel obligated to.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “That's not what I meant! I mean, I do actually want to hang out with you. It'd be fun to see you outside the coffee shop and trivia. Really, you'd be doing me a favor. Marco's been so busy with his nursing shifts and there's only so much of Sasha and Connie I can handle.” His words spew out almost faster than you can comprehend.

You know what he means, but you tease him. “So you want to hang out with me because your other options are out?”

“Ah shit, I'm really digging myself in a hole here.” He looks down and rubs his fingers through his godamn sexy hair again. He says your name, “I want to hang out with you because I like spending time with you. Better?”

You laugh. “Alright, you've got me. What do you want to do?”

“It'll be a surprise,” he gives you a wry smile and takes a sip of his beer.

“Hmm, mysterious.” Your phone buzzes – someone's calling you. Nobody ever calls you except Historia. You take your phone out and it reads “Connie Springer.”

“Connie?” You answer.

“HEYYYY,” he slurs your name. Jean busts out laughing. Connie's voice is plenty loud enough without speaker phone on. “We WON! Titans win! Get your ass down to our place NOW! And make sure to bring that horse face with you.” He hangs up before you can respond.

“Horse face?” You ask Jean, who crosses his arms and rolls his eyes.

“Eren's insult turned nickname, I guess.” Something tells you that it's endearing from Connie and infuriating from Eren. “Do you want to go after we finish these?” He points to your still mostly full drinks.

“Sure, though I'm not really sure what to expect. Never really been into super competitive sports.”

“It's a lot of fun, even if you're not into it. Mikasa and Armin are pretty 'meh' about it, and they still manage to have fun. Expect Connie to be belligerently drunk and insufferable. Sasha will be off the wall. Reiner might be in tears.”

“Tears?? For a basketball game?” It's hard to imagine the beefy guy in tears.

“He's a big dude with a lot of feelings,” Jean chuckles. “Shall we find out?”

#jean kirstein #jean kirstein fluff #reader x jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #date night #aot #attack on titan #sasha braus #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #modern au #snk #shingeki no kyojin #fluff #writing #brave-and-gentle #friendship #roommates #reader x Jean #Jean x reader #historia reiss #ymir #connie springer #femme reader #jean x you #you x jean

[skittsyteacup]

i randomly remembered one time in my phys sci class that i mentioned how its greatly reccommended to plan out events in your story before writing it (IT IS IT IS) and then work on how to get to those events so last night i stayed up til 2 am (i had been regularly going to bed at 8 for almost a week at the ward and when i got home i went to bed at like 10, 11) so i was a little delirious but i wrote out an entire fic plan up to chapter 37 i think, with a 3k word minimum and im sure i can do it as im a traumatized kid who didnt have internet until i was 12/13ish so it shouldnt be hard but im so proud and i want to share but what if someone online steals it:(( so im just gonna post chapter here as i work and id love help. im dumb sometimes and i like talking to strangers, none of my friends have long attention spans either so if any random person seeing this would like to "beta test" my stuff so i can see if it appeals to my ideal audience (teens and young adults, but idm adults too i just dont think theyll be interested cus im just a kid kinda rn) HIT ME UP. GET IN MY ASKS. GO TO MY CARRD AND TEXT ME. i would like to warn i am mentally ill and very behind on school work but im not allowed to work on anything school related til about next week? here ill put stuff in bullets for my dyslexic and adhd friends(plus others. mwah)

-im writing a story

-reblog, send an ask, or hmu on one of my socials if you want to be a beta reader

-read my dni first jic im sorry:((

-im in cst, this is being posted around 7;24 pm chicago time. i go to bed around 10 pm and i wake up around 9;30 am

-i will reblog this in a minute with ideal reader qualifications so if you see this first, go to my profile!!

-im sorry this is so much ohh my gosh good lord

#sysblr #osdd #did #did system #dissociative system #did osdd #plural system #didosdd #osdd system #osddid #bookblr #wattpad #writeblr #reading #mentally fucked #mental health #mental illness #adhd things #actually adhd #beta testing #beta reader #wip #work in progress #fictive blog #my fic #fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #autism #autistic things

[cinematics123]

A short little Buddie vignette/coda for after 6x17. I wrote it as blurb just after the show. But, given their season finale ending, this... just seems more like them:

“I heard about Taylor’s book," Eddie waived vaguely with a kitchen knife. "They interviewed her last night on the 11 pm news. She… was looking very pleased with herself.” Eddie looked up from the lunch he was putting together on the counter. Buck stared back at him, keys still in hand. “You came to talk about it?” Eddie prodded.

“No,” Buck started. “Not… not about Taylor. Um… Kameron is staying with me at the moment and I.. I was thinking she might need some space. Or I might need some space.”

“Kameron, who you are the sperm donor for?”

“Yeah…. That Kameron. Conor’s wife.” Buck’s shoulders deflated. He limped into the kitchen slowly and leaned up next to Eddie’s refrigerator.

“That’s awkward. How long is she staying?”

“I don’t know. She showed up during my date with Natalia last night. It was – a surprise.”

“How did Lady Death deal with your baby momma showing up on your doorstep?”

“Conor’s baby and his baby momma. And not great. Not great seeing Taylor on the news yesterday either. Not great running into Lucy either for that matter.”

Eddie stopped filling a ziplock bag with carrots and took a long look at Buck. “Wow. That’s a lot. Well… you said she sees you. So… she’s seen you then. It’s a lot on you, too. It's scary. But- Look, it’s like ripping a band-aid off. At least you don’t have to worry about explaining later. At least you got a lot out of the way early on.”

“Well, I thought she saw me. She… um… you’re right. A lot got put out on the table. All right at once. And… And –”

“Let me guess, the big bouncing box of wonderful loves you anyway.”

“She left. She saw just who I am. She saw all of me. The good. The bad. The mistakes. And she walked away. You’re right. She saw me, Eddie. And I wasn’t good enough.”

Eddie looked softly at Buck. His eyes were watery and wounded, like a kicked puppy.

“Well.. then I guess it’s official.” Eddie started. “What is?”

“You suck at dating worse than I do.”

Buck looked up, his jaw hanging slightly ajar. He huffed a single laugh and rolled his eyes. But a slight smirk slowly took over his face and laugh lines crinkled together at the corners of his baby blue eyes.

“Beer?” “Please. Thanks.”

Eddie walked past Buck to his fridge. Buck turned and trudged into the family room. Eddie could hear him collapse onto his couch. It complained for a moment for a second, but held his weight.

"Is this your model? Or Chris'?'" Buck asked as Eddie as entered with two open bottles.

"Y’know, when the doctors told me and Shannon that Chris had CP, the thought of helping him build school projects went right out of my head. I never dared to dream I would have to do this."

Buck looked up from the drawing and over to Eddie. "Have you started doing any college planning? I mean, putting some money down for when..."

Eddie took a swig of his beer. "I hadn't thought about that either."

"Well, can I help?"

Eddie's eyes widened. "With... his college fund or with the model?"

Buck smiled wider than Eddie's eyes had grown. "Let's start with the model, then we'll see. While you were out with a machine gun in Afghanistan, I was out and about with a nail gun across the Southeast. I have some idea what I'm doing."

"Okay. You’re the man with the answers. How can I pay you for being my son’s engineering consultant?"

"You have a few hours to kill? And maybe a few more beers?"

"I can keep the beers coming if you don't mess up the hot glue."

"Ok then." Buck smiled. "Let’s get to work."

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #buddie 911 #evan buck buckely #911 abc #911 on abc #911 fox #911 on fox #the buckley diaz family #buddifer

[fadingr222]

A One shot I wrote of Sebastian while I have school tomorrow and it’s 11 PM 👍

Context: It’s been 2 years since your fifth year. You sent him to Azkaban. I wanted to do something different so I might make a part two? Idk yet

Warnings: Angst, Broken limbs (idk I went a little dark)

<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>

The late nights in the Azkaban changed him. It seemed almost daily he would indoor painful torture from either prison guards or cellmates. They discovered he used to be friends with you. They wanted so badly to hurt you that they would hurt him. It seems like each day was a new hell he will have to desperately escape from.

There were times he wondered if there were more scars than freckles on his body. For two years he had to learn to survive. He would send endless letters to you. Some of them blamed you for the hell he’s going through. Others were filled with poems and compliments he wished he could say to your face.

He sent some to Anne and to Ominis. They replied asking him to stop blaming them, putting pressure on them, trying to pin it on them like they were the guilty ones. Saying things along the lines of he himself put himself there. He remembered that Ominis wrote to leave well enough alone. Accept and make peace with the fate his life led to.

Sebastian every single night cried silently to himself. Tears that felt like they could fill rooms leaked and flooded his mind. You flooded his mind. At night in the cover of dark you were the only thing you could think of. If he hadn’t screwed everything up he would be graduating right now.

Maybe he would’ve brought up the courage to ask you out. Maybe you would share kisses with him under the moonlight. Oh how he would praise, you devote himself to you. His hands trembled at the thought of you. They reached for the wall as he laid down pretending he was reaching for your figure.

How he will kneel himself before you. How he wished you would explore him. He was angry. So confused and distraught.

He wanted to break something. Suddenly his hands reached for some thing else. He grabbed his leg firmly. Only thoughts of you in his mind as he with all his strength he tried to crack, twist, or pop his leg. Pain shot out at him. The bone not budging. His mind was too focused on what he was doing to let him break his leg.

He gasped and tried to picture how you would look. Did you cut your hair or let it grow? How tall are you now? Are your eyes still filled with hope? He grunted and winced as a large sharp sound from below finally gave way.

He gritted his teeth hard and left out terrible pain filled noises. To the point guards busted into his cell. He was rushed to the infirmary. There he was left alone with a nurse.

She casted a spell and immediately he was relieved of pain. His eyes started around the room looking for a guard. A dark smile formed as he saw he was left alone with the nurse. He leapt. He reached for her neck. Immediately she flinched and tried to cover it. As she did this his hand suddenly change direction. Her wand.

“Avada Kadavra!” He yelled. She didn’t even have time to yell. She didn’t beg for Mercy. She didn’t get to see her life flash before her eyes. The only thing she saw was Sebastian. A green flash. Then nothing. He left most of her body and bit one of her nails ingesting it. Then searched her pockets.

that night he used all three unforgivable‘s. Along with every other spell he remembered. Every single spell he desperately had his hands on to find a cure for a sister that wants nothing to do with him. He used them all.

Alohomora on all the inmate’s cells. Keeping the guards busy. The nail from the nurse that was resting in his belly let him pass any charms meant for inmates. The water was cold. He was sure he was going to freeze to death. Yet he swam.

In the middle of the ocean far from Azkaban he floated. His eyes staring up into the sky as his body became dehydrated from swimming in the salty Water. A shadow casted over him and he took deep breath’s gasping to make noise loud enough for the creature to hear.

When he was on land he made a break for it. Thanking the creature that just gave him a chance for survival. Living in the forest he practiced transfiguration. Till he suddenly found himself as Animagus. The form he normally took was a cat. He desperately wanted to spend the last year with you. Hogwarts was always crawling around with cats..

Author note: I might do some parts where you adopt cat him, idk.

#harry potter hogwarts game #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian #sebastian sallow #sebastian stan #hogwarts headcanon #ominis #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #sebastian x y/n #sebastian x reader #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #post hogwarts #oneshot #harry potter oneshot #hogwarts legacy one shot

[kinetic-elaboration]

October 13: What Happened in the Cemetery

Loooool anyway, I was working (painstakingly!) on my Troped Horror Exchange fic and then I wrote this bit of Utter Nonsense. I don't... I don't know, I literally wrote it in less than 20 minutes with no pre-planning at all.

I think it's in the same universe as Sail Away With Someone's Daughter but honestly... up to you. Whatever.

Murphy, Miller, Raven, and Kane, very minor Murven, ~800 words

For the prompt: "Until you tell me exactly what happened here, we’re not leaving this cemetery" from this list of Autumn/Halloween prompts.

*

“Until you tell me exactly what happened here, we’re not leaving this cemetery.”

Murphy looks to his right, to Miller, then to his left toward Raven. They each meet his eye, and dammit he's wishing they hadn't, because now the three of them look some inept teenage conspiracy.

"Well you see, Mr. Kane--" he starts, in his best check-out-how-innocent-I-am voice. Because he is who he is, it comes out more like a deadpan, sarcastic drawl. Did he have any backup plan for the inevitability that he would get caught, by Mayoral candidate Marcus Kane, in the Arcadia Cemetery at 11:30 PM on Halloween night, in any state, let alone this particular state?

No. Obviously not.

His hands are covered in charcoal and there's a collection of stolen items on the grave of a poor woman who died in 1932.

He catches sight of the chalky black film on his own palms, and belatedly, uselessly, hides them behind his back. He can practically hear the cartoon-whoosh and see the little drawn-in curls of wind, like he's in a wacky old-school Mickey Mouse short or something, the gesture is so stupidly obvious and quick.

Mr. Kane glances down, and, even later to the party than he is, Miller shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and Raven crosses her arms against her chest.

"Just a prank--" Miller says, into that drawn out blank space Murphy left for him, when his own frantic brainstorm of lies got caught in his throat, and unfortunately Raven hits the same beat as well.

Her answer is: "Fame and fortune."

They're giving future-Mayor-of-Arcadia Marcus Kane whiplash. His eyes narrow. He lets his gaze jump from one guilty wide-eyed face to the next.

A better question might be why he's traipsing through the cemetery at near midnight on the spookiest night of the year, Murphy thinks, but Kane's the one asking the questions here, young man.

"A prank for fame and fortune," he repeats, slowly. All the skepticism in the world in his voice.

"For the band," Murphy clarifies. "Fame and fortune for the band. It's a… magic spell sort of thing."

"We got it off the Internet," Raven adds.

About-to-win-by-a-landslide practically-Mayor Kane glances at the stolen goods again: some gold jewelry all tangled up with itself and a postcard of the Eiffel Tower, torn at the edge.

"Maybe you could come to one of our shows sometime," Miller says. The silence is so heavy with confusion, or maybe it's dread, or just awkwardness, and there's a crow or something cawing in one of the bare-limbed trees, it's like he's gotta say something or someone will just combust. Murphy shifts his weight between his feet and listens to the leaves crunching beneath his combat boots.

"Then you'll see why we need the…" Raven gestures, then immediately remembers her hands, and hides them again in the pockets of her patched-up jeans. Murphy fucking loves those jeans. He'd like them better on his floor etc., etc., but Raven always fobs him off with talk of band-cest and other excuses. Then she flirts with him at practice so sometimes the signals are a little mixed.

Murphy forces himself to stop staring at her profile out of the corner of his eyes, tilts his head back to catch De Facto Mayor Kane's eye, and asks, "Do you like punk rock, Sir?"

He looks like he wants to scream.

Instead, he passes his hand over his face, heavy and exhausted--if this were that cartoon again, he'd drag his whole visage down as if his skin had the elasticity of a rubber band--then shakes his head, like he's bringing all the blood back to it. "Just get out," he says.

"Sorry, Sir?" Murphy asks, all innocence.

"I said, clean this stuff up and get out," Kane repeats. "And don't let me find you here again."

Miller salutes, and Murphy answers, "You got it, Sir."

On the way out, Raven puts her hand in his back pocket and he tells himself maybe the Internet was right about something--maybe there is magic out here and maybe all the fame and money in the world are coming for them next.

#the 100 #john murphy #raven reyes #nathan miller #marcus kane #the 100 fanfiction #mine #my writing #the year 2023 #2023: free write #sail away with someones daughter #also if it's not in the fic i dont know #there is no plan here there is 800 words and that is IT

[honeyed-sunflowers]

Midnights – Taylor Swift

Side A: The Dark Side of The Moon

1. New Moons: the first track, starting with a slow rhythm and then building up. theme – being afraid of the new changes in life, like going to a new school and the fear that keeps you awake at night. here, new moons, refer to youngsters facing life changes. this will be the other pov of nothing new. (‘the kind of radiance you only have at 17’ but it'll show the struggle of being 17 here)

2. Saudade: it means nostalgic or melancholic longing. this can be about wishing to go back to a certain time of life when you believed you were the happiest or had someone precious but they aren't around anymore. it can be about sleepless nights thinking about that moment of life.

3. The Tale Of October: this can be a narrative style of song, following the story of a memorable october – how that month symbolises something meaningful to the narrator. it can also include myths associated with this month (it's known as the month of gods in japanese folklore).

4. Cinderella's Shoe: a long-story short kind of song – but it focuses mainly on the negative/darker side of it. inspired by the saying “if cinderella's shoe fit her, why did it fall?” and the enchantment that wears off by midnight.

5. Insomnia: for all the night owls. for those nights where sleep is a distant place, an escape from reality, but it's hard to reach it. it'll include wild thoughts, anxiety and/or imaginations we may conjure while trying to sleep. this will be the saddest song, of course.

6. Werewolves: a song about transformation (every full moon, so contrasting the first track). halloween vibes that will first show werewolves (humans) as monsters but slowly show the misunderstood side of them. it will have reputation vibes and be the song connecting side a with side b.

☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️

Side B: Midnight Paradise

7. Meet Me At Midnight: the first single of the album. it will be a beautiful, romantic song but with hints of fear of losing it, just like delicate or peace. it'll also follow a timeline, like the first verse will be about 10 pm, the second verse will be about 11 pm and in the bridge, at midnight, the two lovers will finally meet.

8. Aquila: it's a midnight constellation, in the shape of an eagle. it'll be about the random bursts of creativity or ideas we may get when we are about to sleep. it can symbolise independence (like owning your own music) or about the growth that occurs in solitude, which no one appreciates us for.

9. Stargazing: another love song, but this one goes like a fairytale. like love story or invisible string. it can be about staying up late at night with someone special, spending your midnights with them after a long day.

10. Temporary Deaths: thinking about lost friendships or relationships and finally understanding how to let them go. it's a slow song about goodbyes, how they tear us apart, how we wish to avoid them, but they still happen. “temporary death” refers to how a part of us dies when someone we cherished disappears from our life.

11. Cerulean: it's about love that keeps you awake at night. it can either take a happy or a sad turn, depending on the listener, so the writing will just super creative.

12. Lanterns: inspired by the emily dickinson quote “i'm out with lanterns looking for myself”. taylor also mentioned ‘lanterns’ in the announcement post. it's about self-discovery or self-reflection. finding your mistakes, forgiving yourself and being free from the guilt, and working on being a better person. it's about accepting our true nature and being at peace with it.

13. The Witching Hour: technically, the witching hour is 3 a.m. so this song takes place after midnight. a story about witches (inspired by a poetry series i once wrote), how the public humiliates them but they stay up all night for a good cause instead. a song with i did something bad and mad woman vibes but it will have less angry tone, and more like “i turned the stones you threw at me into jewels” vibes.

so, this is something i've always wanted to do but never got the chance to do it. i'm not so sure about how much it makes sense or if it matches the theme of the album enough but this album allowed my imaginations to run wild and i knew i had to do something about it! let me know if you liked my ideas! and if possible, i'll try to write some of the songs or just turn them into poems. until next time, keep burning the midnight oil! *winks*

– dandelion

#taylor swift #midnights 👀🪐✨ #midnights #writing #album ideas #songs

[azure-the-egg]

The End of an Era

This is mainly just me getting my thoughts out on recently finishing a project that's been on the works for a year and a half so if that's not really your jazz just go on.

January 2nd, 2022. At that time I was single, working my way through 10th Grade, and the prospects of adulthood seemed to be eons away. On that day I also wrote the very first week of a Friday Night Funkin story featuring the OCs and Personas of me and a close knit group of friends. Little did I know at that moment I would begin working on a nearly 19 month journey of working on the story for this, featuring a whopping 40 main weeks and, as of writing, 4 complete "bonus" weeks.

June 28th, 2023. I'm on my way to the 12th grade, I work a job on weekdays during the summer, and I had just celebrated my loving boyfriend's birthday and our anniversary not too long ago. I lie in bed at 11 pm typing up the final few words of Tuesday Night Vibin. The story ends happily, the ending I've been dreaming of for a year and a half now. This is the longest I've ever worked on a project, and I'm happy. At the bottom of the document I type two words that I never thought I would ever type in this story.

"The End."

Tuesday Night Vibin still has stories to tell but the one major story I dreamt up while riding a bus home from school is on the page, complete. I already have a release date in mind, it's too perfect, but it's satisfying.

I did it. I told the story I set out to tell.

I can do it.

#Friday night Funkin #Tuesday night Vibin #rambling

[an-akward-ace]

I have a really important presentation to do at 11:35 and I wrote my script cards LAST NIGHT AT 9:30 PM LIKE AN IDIOT and I’ve been reading them and I can’t memorize them but that’s ok because they’re just notes. I HAVE LESS THAN AN HOUR OH NO I JUST LOOKED AT THE TIME. Also it turnes out tumblr thinks I’m in a completely different time zone than i am. ANYWAY I know I’m gonna do good cause it’s a group presentation but i keep getting more and more anxious. Also it’s RIGHT as lunch gets out. I do get to do it in the school theatre though so that’ll be cool!

#A rant #a panic #Actually #I’m stressed