#ignorance is truly bliss like. i talk to my friends about him n they dont like fully understand bc theyve never liked someone so mucg | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bahannah01writes · 5 years

Text

Lighthouse

This was going to be a flower fic, but I got mildly metaphorical and now it’s called lighthouse lol. Aaaa I know I haven’t written in forever and I’m far less than consistent but I’m hopefully still a decent writer and I will hopefully be uploading more and being here for you all more as well :) Thank you, everyone, for your continued support, I love y’all big time and you have no idea how much I appreciate it<3!!

Kind of requested by this sweetie! @glorious-idiot I know it’s very late but I hope you enjoy, love! Also this may or may not have a part two because I feel like it could but I feel like it’s also good as is. Soooo tell me what you all think ! ^^

Warnings: Slightly Paranoid! Reader

Send in requests!

Check out the masterlist here :)

Tags: @kourt-kay @themarkiplierexperience @let-it-go-and-live-again @skarletton @maximum-fander @randomboxofsadness @browniebri @amostpeculiarmademoisellerp @potteritis @kindasortagood if you want to be on the tagged list, just message me and it shall be done!

Enjoy!

11:56pm

Sent to moomoo:

are you up?

00:13am

Sent to moomoo:

aaaAa i dont want to bug but please tell me youre awake

00:28am

Sent to moomoo:

Markkkkkkk:(

Sighing, you realize that you're alone for this one. You breathe in and out for a moment to try and calm your racing heart, but it seems to do very little. The voices from your TV acting only as a buzzing white noise in the background of your mind. You try to focus, eyes struggling to stay on the screen when they feel the need to dart and survey the room. Every little sound is sending your heart and mind into a panicked state. Feet grow cold and heavy, they keep you from moving whether you want to or not. Not unlike your voice, which appears to also be stuck and hiding from what may be around you. All you can manage to do is pull the blanket, your one layer of protection, tighter around your body in a hope that you can bury yourself from the world in its warmth.

There was another noise from behind you. The sound of floors creaking only for just a second. In a swift motion, your head swerves to look in that direction and you swear you caught a shadow of a figure. Your eyes widen once again and you try to control your breathing. Hands grasping to get your phone once again, the screen illuminating your face in the dimly lit room as you debate what to do next. You lip finds itself between your teeth, a nervous habit showing itself in this moment of paranoia. You know you are making something out of nothing, but the fear you are feeling is nothing less than real.

You needed to try again.

00:45am

Sent to moomoo:

Im scared, mark

please just call me asap, ok?

Your cat stares at you from the other side of the couch. Her curious eyes inspect you and senses that something is off. Rather than letting her make her way over, you reach over and pull her into your lap, a meow of resistance resonating in the room. You ignore it and instead, try to pet your nerves away. She eventually settles and begins to purr, content with this odd situation as long as she's getting pet. You, on the other hand, are still far from content with your situation.

Why isn't Mark awake? You know you tell him all the time to get more sleep but why must tonight be the one night he decides to take your advice?

He was always there for you when you were scared. Honestly, he was one of the only people you trusted enough to talk to about things like this. Mainly because he and Amy found out after they insisted you stayed and watched horror movies with them for Halloween… but that's beside the point. They were both able to be your lighthouse that guided you through the fog of paranoia in the late hours of the night. Only, it seems as if you may be left sailing blind tonight.

Until a certain name catches your eyes and becomes a temptation.

A mental debate fills your thoughts with ‘yes’s and ‘no’s and yet, you click the call button all the same. Not truly realizing it at first, either. As the phone rings in your hand, you panic for a whole new reason and with a shaky hand, hang up.

You shake your head and place your phone down. That’s when you notice that the room appears darker than before. All the little noises that you were temporarily oblivious to fade back into your world. The large glass sliding door adjacent to the couch, hidden by mere curtains that are lighter than the weight on your chest, feels like it has transformed into a dismal portal. You can feel eyes on you. But how many? What if someone is just waiting out there for you and has been watching you all along? And… what if they come in?

Your breath catches, it is as if you can already feel their hands around your throat. Your chest rises and falls like the unsteady waves of the deep ocean, you feel yourself sinking into the unknown and losing your sense of security.

Your phone rings and at this noise of a possible saving grace, your desperate hands reach to answer without even looking at the caller id.

“Hello?” You call out, voice wavering from the anxiety that has taken hold of your body.

“Hey, (Y/n). You called..?”

Ethan. Your eyes dart for a moment, debating if you should come out with it. Instinctively, you go to pet your cat but you notice she had left at some point without you noticing. This prompts you to go forth and tell him after all.

“Yeah, I did… Sorry,” You automatically apologize, feeling bad for the emotional strife you are about to reveal to the poor boy. You would normally not even dare tell this secret fear of yours to him in case it would somehow ruin your chances with the sweetheart, but the fear raising in your head outweighs such small concerns. You hear him dismiss your apology and a shaky smile crosses your lips and you continue with, “I know it’s late but, I… I’m kind of really scared, right now, Ethan.” And with that, a humorless chuckle leaves your lips. The feeling of weakness now mixing with your paranoia, what if he sees you just as weak as you feel?

It’s silent on the line. You feel yourself sink deeper into the depths of your mind at the idea that he may feel just as you suspect.

“Would you like to hear a story?”

A story? You’re a tad perplexed but curl into yourself and nod, “I, yeah, I would like to hear one, I think.” Your voice is less than confident but all the same, just listening to Ethan tell a story sounds nice.

You feel like you can hear his golden smile over the phone as his voice lights up and begins to tell a story back from his years in junior high. Already sensing that it will probably be one with him acting stupid or coming up with some silly and delightful plan, your heart begins to lighten. You close your eyes and try to work on your breathing as you listen, hanging onto every word that falls from his lips and into your ear.

A distracted mind no longer swarms your thoughts with the nightmarish and impossible situations that it seems to fill with at night. Instead, it begins to clear and you realize that you have another lighthouse.

About five stories in, the clock on the wall reminds you that you have been up for far too long. You interrupt Ethan, “Oh wow, I’m sorry, Ethan! It’s like almost 3am. I didn’t mean to keep you up this late-”

“You realize if anyone is keeping someone up, it’s me right?” His laugh that follows is sleepy, making you smile softly and roll your eyes.

“I’m the one that called you, though.”

“Cause you were scared and it’s my responsibility as your friend to help.”

Guilt tugs at your heart but you try to shake it off. Because he was right, friends help friends with even the silliest of fears. “Thank you, Ethan,” you say, almost whispering, still a bit embarrassed but also very grateful to this man you have in your life.

“It’s nothing, you’d do the same for me.”

There is another moment of silence, only this one is filled with mutual admiration and love for one another.

It is his sleepy laugh returning that breaks the silence, “You feel better right?”

“I do!” You laugh lightly along with him.

“Good. I want you to try and get some sleep tonight, alright?”

“Alright, and again, just thank you so much.”

He hums in response, “Call me again if you ever get scared. If you ever need me to come over too, tell me and I’ll be there,” Ethan chuckles and is grateful that you can’t see the blush growing on his cheeks, “I’ll always do what I can to protect you, even if it’s just from the things that go bump in the night.”

You thank you for the third time before sharing an exchange of goodnights and finally hanging up. The smile refusing to leave your lips as you feel your heart not only at peace but also in complete and utter bliss at his words.

Maybe he really could be your new lighthouse.

So, I really hope you all enjoyed this!! :) It may be a lil obvious but this is slightly personal as I get super spooked easily when I am alone and it’s night and I always end up spooking myself further because that’s what I do apparently lol Anywayyy, I wanted to say thank you to you guys again :) Justttt aaa I know I’m not the greatest so to everyone who is still supporting me and reading my stuff, bless you all and thank you so so so much!! I will try to do better by you all!! ^^

#ethan nestor x reader #ethan nestor imagines #ethan nestor fanfiction #markipler x reader #markiplier fanfiction #teamiplier x reader #teamiplier fanfic #fanfiction #bahannah01writes

77 notes · View notes

bredsticon-blog · 5 years

Text

title: ¡quake! & ~the wave~

desc: by day, you're a reporter for a sketchy newspaper called the exposé. by night, you're a hero named ¡quake! (the exclamation points actually stand for the ground shaking). you and a fellow reporter, brandon arreaga, have recently found the lead on a villain's identity: ~THE WAVE~ (the tildes actually stand for the water... er, waving). ~THE WAVE~ is also your archenemy. who is also brandon arreaga. ...whoops.

part: one (déjà vu)

tags: superhero au, dark! brandon arreaga, humor, love square, gender neutral reader (as always), cussing, mentions of drug use, alcohol, & death (later on)

word count: 1.2k

notes: i have a really large kink for weird multipart aus so expect more to come :^) i have an edwin and austin one coming up. whichever i update first depends on the responses i get

You're not groggy and foggy this morning. You haven't had your coffee yet and the sun isn't peaking through the boarded windows, but you don't stumble around your room, either. Not like there's much to stumble around. Furniture is hard to move from house to house. That, and you stuffed too many confidential documents in the couch cushions to trust any moving company.

In fact, you're never groggy and foggy in the mornings. You don't need to drink coffee. You could step outside in your costume, turn to the wall of flashing lights and microphones, and say three words: "I want chairs." and every furniture designer in the world would scramble to ship their best pieces to you. Not that they'd know your address—you've made certain that no one would—but they'd try.

You make your way to the living room, gingerly stepping over piles of unopened letters covered in kiss prints and heart stickers. Your fans discovered your past home, so you had to move before they found out who lived there. A box T.V., slouching on one of your untouched packing boxes, blares in the corner. You grimace and cover your ears, but you can still hear it.

"International supervillains quake at the sight of ¡quake! Haha, that was a nice one, wasn't it, Normani? Last night, ~THE WAVE~ was found plotting to stea—"

You dart to the TV and turn the volume down one notch. It goes mute. There you go, that's it. Bliss.

Not for long.

Something goes off near your hip. You scramble in the deep plush of your pajama pockets. It's like an earthquake. Your skin vibrates along with it. Your fingers clasp around smooth plastic, and you tug your phone out.

"HELLO, STERLING."

Your boss's voice explodes in your ears; you grimace, throwing your phone to a couch.

"Yes, boss?" you say, answering to your alias. Sterling wasn't your actual name, but that's what your boss calls you when she's on the phone. In case someone's tracking.

From the couch, her voice is less booming. "Sterling, a certain friend of yours has told me that you moved again? Without telling me?"

But just as terrifying.

"Yes, boss. People found my address and started sending things. Most were good but... gross things, too. Y'know how it is now. Normals have a fetish for me. My kind."

You give her a second to respond.

"You're lucky I pity you, babe." Your boss is one of a kind. She's the only person in the world who pities you. "If you weren't you, if you didn't have your condition, if you didn't always give me the juiciest stories, I'd damn near fire you for moving so much. On my bill. This is the sixth time this year, no?"

You nod, then realize that it's a phone call. "Uh- yeah. It is."

Since you're a "superhuman," the government requires that you register to UN, fingerprints included. Your superhero identity would be tacked on every piece of ID you ever own.

The thing is, you're one of the only heroes with a living archenemy. Which means you don't exactly want everyone to know who you are. Which also means that the government doesn't know you exist. Can't file taxes, buy anything substantial, or get a proper paycheck. You just rely on your boss's money to keep you afloat. Every time you move, it's been on her card.

She sighs. "Fine, fine. Just keep up the good work. You being... you is worth it."

"Will do."

"Speaking of good work, I have an assignment for you. You know that person that's been bugging you for the past few years? Well, after the information you gave me, Brandon's found something new on them." Her voice takes on a sparkle. "This is gonna be big. If this doesn't blow up our paper, I don't know what will."

Your eyebrows shoot up. Wait a minute—is she talking about the bane of your existence? ~THE WAVE~? The person that's been messing you up ever since you got your powers?

"The thing is, my darling Sterling, it's so big, I will need your sharp senses. Brandon refuses to leave this story, so both of you are going to work on it."

There's only six reporters working for the Exposé—and she's putting two on one story. That's one third of her entire business. On one story.

"Now, dear, could you tell me your new address so he could do a little hop and skip to your place? Some of this stuff is deeply sensitive."

You whisper it in the a special code you two formulated. Your ears pick up a faint scribbling sound, and she speaks once more.

"Wonderful, wonderful. He'll be over at three!"

She ends the call.

You gulp. Your house is the definition of a wreck. You have fan gifts addressed to ¡quake! all over the place, and as far as Mr. Arreaga is concerned, your name is Sterling, and you're just a humble reporter. You haven't brushed your teeth yet. You didn't take a shower in two days. Your good fits are still in your car. It's two o'clock.

As the great Captain America once said: Fuck.

You speed through your personal hygiene, going in and out of the bathroom to dig through boxes. You knew you should've unpacked sooner. You knew it, and you didn't.

After that, you take all your gifts into the basement. Or, rather, roll them into the basement, since you couldn't carry some. Being ¡quake! didn't give you super-strength, and one person literally gave you a tree (their prized Pennantia baylisiana). You have no idea how that went through UPS, but it did, and you also had the ignorance to bring it with you when you moved. You truly question why little kids look up to you.

You aggressively dust the house, push around furniture, pick a good fit, and sneeze a good fifty times before finishing. The boarded windows look suspicious, but you can just say you're a conspiracy nut. Brandon doesn't much about you, so you can make up whatever bullshit you want. Chances are, he'll believe it.

None of your coworkers know that much about you, really. The other five are pretty much brothers, while you've kept to yourself. For good reasons. You haven't killed your archenemy yet. Until then, you've vowed to keep your hero life away from your personal life. It's the only way to keep everyone safe. Especially when it's your archenemy.

So you chit chat with them, act friendly but not too friendly, just average. You bring good stories, though, the latest scoop, all that. Even if you hold back a bit, you know enough about the criminals in this area to satisfy any paper. It gives you a good excuse to act like you're leaving for an assignment when you're actually just punching ~THE WAVE~. Your coworkers don't know more than they need to. And you plan on keeping it that way.

The doorbell screams. You kick the last fan letter into a corner, and you rush to open the door.

Brandon gives you a smile.

He's cute, but still just your coworker. You gotta keep him at arms-length. You smile back, knowing you look completely dead inside.

He meets your eyes. His are dark. Like an inked signature. Like a new moon on a cloudy night. It flips a switch in you, a spark of coldness, a wisp of familiarity, and your eye twitches. Déjà vu. He stares at you. Neither of you speak.

Then he blushes. "So, uh, I'm guessing this is where the infamous Sterling lives?"

a/n: i know this sucked ass. dont remind me

#prettymuch #brandon arreaga #prettymuch imagines #prettymuch imagine #pm imagines #pm imagine #prettymuch fanfic #pm fanfic #reader x brandon arreaga #brandon arreaga x reader

41 notes · View notes