#like oh it's the visions again... i thought i had gotten past that...

[pit-and-the-pen]

Unrequited Love

A/N: I had to get to the airport to return a rental car like 5 hours early so I’m so sorry for the pure amount that I’ve been posting today but as a socially awkward girly, if I’m on my own phone then for sure no one is going to talk to me.

Anywho here is some angsty angst about day court!reader and Azriel. I’m thinking of making this like a mini series but idk who reader would end up with. (Let me know if you have any suggestions!)

Forgive any typos I wrote this on my phone.

Warnings: none

WC-1.4K

————————————————————————

My blood was boiling beneath my skin. Azriel has been complaining for the better part of an hour about Rhys gag order regarding Elain. I was trying not to roll my eyes as I had reached my wits end with his lamenting.

“I just don’t understand why he needs to meddle in this. I get she’s Feyre's sister but he doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. “I just can’t help but think that sometimes the cauldron gets it wrong.”

His words were spoken so plainly. Anger wanes for a second as I swear I could feel my heart break inside my chest. The words seemed to echo in my head Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. I almost would have rather had him carve out my heart with truth teller.

“What do you think?” He asks me and I sit reeling over his words. I can’t think of anything to say to him. The comforting words I would normally have for him can’t get past the anger starting to cloud my vision. So I simply shrug, avoiding the question. Desperately trying to change the subject.

“So this new book I’m reading…”

“Oh c’mon.” He interrupts me. “I know you have something to say. And I trust your advice more than anyone else. There isn’t anyone else I would rather talk to about this.” His eyes softened as he looked towards me. Instead of melting under his gaze like I normally do, red bites at the edge of my vision.

“I think you should leave her the hel alone.” My tone is not gentle. He freezes.

“What?”

“She has a mate already. And regardless of if you think the cauldron got it right. Lucien is the one mated to Elain,” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “And Lucien is a wonderful male who has been through a lot of shit. He deserves someone as sweet as Elain, if she ever comes around. You should stop meddling.”

His mouth opens, when no words come out, he closes it again. You see the muscles in his jaw tick as he clenches his teeth.

“What has gotten into you? When did you become Lucien’s spokesperson?” He spits at me. His face starts to get closer to mine as he leans over the table, slowly starting to rise to his feet.

The sane part of me is telling me to stand down. That one of the most powerful warriors in all of Prythian was starting to get angry at me. My mate was starting to get mad at me. But I would not cave under his intimidation.

“I became his spokesperson when you showed no respect for him. Or for Elain.” I noticed I was starting to get to my feet. “What about what she wants? She doesn’t owe you anything more than she owes Lucien. Rhys told you to stay away from a girl you feel entitled to and now you want to mope like a petulant teenager. Grow up Azriel.” He flinches before something stoney sets in his eyes.

“At least I’ve actually told her how I felt. What about you?” My stomach drops into my knees. “Sitting and pining over the same person for a century.”

“You knew?” My voice was nothing more than a whisper. This was not happening. I should have left when I had the chance.

“It’s not like you tried to hide it. I thought at some point you would get the hint that it wasn’t going to happen but yet there you always were trailing behind me like a sad little puppy.”

My hands on the table started to glow faintly. My anger was finally breaking through the surface.

“You asshole. You stupid Illyrian bastard.” The smirk that graced his face fell instantly. “After everything that I’ve done for you, you want to use my feelings for you as some fucking weapon against me.”

Even I was surprised at the venom in my words but I was on a roll. “I sat by for five hundred years. I sat by as you pined over Mor, someone I consider my sister. I felt that bond go unreturned.” He completely froze at my words. Words I have never spoken out loud to anyone.

“Wait-“

“No. You get to hear this shadowslinger.” I pressed my finger to his chest and he stepped back like I had hit him. A small part of me wishes I had. But this. This right here is why Rhys kept me around. I didn’t need to throw a punch to put someone on their knees.

“I followed you around like a lost puppy and you loved it. Every second of it. I was stupid enough at some point to believe that it was because you felt it too. And I couldn’t get away from those feelings,could get away from you. Every time I tried I would damn near drive myself crazy and then you would smile or say some funny joke and I was right back to where I started.” I willed the slight shake in my voice to disappear. “You just wanted to feel important because the one you truly loved wouldn’t have even entertained the thought. Took other males into her bed, but not you right? So why not go for the next available thing. Me. Who cares if I got hurt? Who cares that I still fucking loved you through all of it? Not you clearly. You played me like a fucking fiddle and I played my part well.”

When I finally looked back up at his face I saw nothing but a shell of the male that stood in front of me. Even his shadows had retreated from his side. Looking down I realized they were sitting at my feet. I pushed down the glimmer of something I didn’t have time to think about at the sight.

“Please. Just stop.” He pleaded.

“Why? Because it hurts to hear? Fuck you. “And you think that didn’t hurt me too?” I watched him pale. “You didn’t think it killed me to feel that empty weight in my chest every time I looked at you. Everyday that I waited and wished that you would feel that stupid bond I’ve had to live with for the last two centuries.”

He gasped at my words cutting me off

“You never told me about that. I just thought it was… I don’t know… I thought it was a crush like how I felt with Mor”

A muscle in my jaw ticked. “I shouldn’t have had to! The whole point is that you feel it too. Bonds aren’t supposed to be one sided but for some gods unknown reason, you didn’t,” I felt the anger really starting to boil over.

“Every time I heard you rambling on and on about how perfect Mor was, about the females you took into your bed. I sat by all of it, for what? Three sisters for three brothers?!” I was screaming now, my hands shaking by my side

“What happens when she’s all fixed up too Azriel? When she feels this same thing I feel when she looks at Lucien. Onto the next one for me to hear about I guess . Always on the sidelines. Always the sweet face to come back to at the end of the day but never the one you want to be with.” I took a deep breath for the words about to come out of my mouth, steeling my nerves.

“I’m done. With this. With you. Fuck this entire gods damned city. I will not sit by and play second to whoever you deem worthy enough for the rest of my life.”

He held up his hand like he was going to reach up for me but the light that was glowing off my skin was warning enough.

“Where will you go?” Was all he had the nerve to say.

I let out a cold, twisted laugh. “Anywhere but here. Hel I could finally go home. Helion has

been asking me to come back for years now. All I know it will be somewhere where you can’t come and ruin another half a century of my life. Because that’s what you did. I wasted all this time on someone I knew wouldn’t love me. But I can agree with you on something, Azriel.” I paused long enough to see the hope in his eyes as he whispered “what?”

“That sometimes the cauldron does get it wrong.”

I walked out of that room with my head held high

#acomaf #acosf #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #acotar #acowar #azriel angst #azriels kinda dick in this one #I promise I love him but this popped into my head #azriel x reader #azriel x you #no happy ending #a court of thorns and roses #i make no apologies #well maybe a little

[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst

a/n: Thank you for reading and sorry for the wait!! I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think ❤️

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

~~

You were leaving today, and suddenly—with your bags at your feet and the air around you filled with stagnant silence—a few days seemed so juvenile. So… inconsequential in the grand scheme. 

You would leave, and when you returned everything would be the same. Azriel would still love another and you would still be left with the bleak realization that you had spent the last few centuries denying a love that you knew to be fruitless. 

Nothing would change if you were to be gone only a few measly days. 

But if you were to be gone a month? A year, even? 

Much of your work for Rhysand could be done from afar, especially with the library in Day Court. Helion wouldn’t mind; he’d asked you to consider an extended stay in the past. And maybe there could even be something there, something to take your mind off of your true home. 

The home that wasn’t Velaris. 

You saw him every time you closed your eyes. His rare smiles, his even rarer laughs; you saw the way his watchful eyes skated across every room you entered and reminisced on each twitch of his hands—the way you could feel it against your fingers when you grabbed for him in the busy streets of Velaris. 

Azriel was inescapable, even when you battled against your vision and attempted to drift to sleep. 

He was everywhere, everything. 

But he wouldn’t be in Day Court, and although that wouldn't stop your thoughts, it would be something. It would be distance. 

With a flick of your wrist, you sent your bags away to Day Court and heaved in an uncomfortably large breath. You knew he would do little to deny you, but you still needed to ask Rhys. He was your High Lord and employer, above all your friend, and you knew it would take a little persuading. 

Maybe tears. Yes, tears were very moving and equally as conjurable at the moment.

It only took one step before the knock on your door left you still. Your shoes made a dent in the carpet and you could hear him breathing on the other side of the ornately carved wood. You could always tell when it was Azriel. 

You shifted your weight from one knee to the next, gripping your skirts at the thigh. Azriel knocked again, this time in a faster pattern—more rushed. 

You bit into your lip. You hadn’t planned to see him again, not before you left. You would deal with the repercussions of such an act later on, but not now. Not when you had finally gotten your emotions under control for long enough to have a conversation with Rhys. 

It made sense to you now why you had repressed this for so long. 

The sound of your voice was startling. “Come in.” 

The door creaked, but the sound was overpowered by Azriel’s boot clicking against shining marble. The shadowsinger entered before his shadows, but the wisps followed close behind, quickly abandoning their master in favor of darting toward you. They twisted up your legs and elbows, rolling into your hair and dancing along your fingertips. 

Something like fear, love, crushing defeat tugged and tugged at your chest. 

“Azriel,” you greeted, aiming for a surprised tone and failing. “Have you come to see me off?” 

The spymaster didn’t smile. “Rhys sent me. He said you might have a message for him.” 

That cauldron-damned meddler. Of course he somehow knew about your reservations. You doubted he knew exactly what you had to say, but you had been dragging your feet all morning and were currently about an hour late for your own departure. 

And of course he had sent Azriel of all people. 

“Oh! Well, I suppose I could go and—” 

“Why is half of your vanity gone?” 

You blinked, startled by the words. If Azriel was anything, he was polite and never one to cut someone off. You went to search Azriel’s expression but found him zeroed in on the table pushed into the corner of your room. 

“What?” It was all you could think to formulate. 

But Azriel was quick to respond. “Almost all of your things are gone. Your perfumes and the pots of cream you keep on the side. You’ve only left the items you don’t use anymore.” 

“How do you know—” you cut yourself off this time, ignoring the glaring question that tried to blind you. “Azriel, I’m going away… to Day Court. You know this.”

But Azriel only shook his head, stalking over to the table and yanking the drawer open so harshly it shook the mirror. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he went to your closet, throwing open the door, shoulders rising and falling with more effort. 

“Azriel—” 

“You’ve packed too much.” He turned to you, some of his shadows returning to wind around his chest. “You’ve taken most of your clothes.” 

“You know I always overpack,” you laughed, but the laugh sounded fake, painful. 

You fought the urge to cower under Azriel’s scrutinizing gaze. It was as if he was on fire, as if he was aflame and filled with something that had been pent up for far too long. If someone, anyone, were to look inside of you, they would see the same thing. 

Which is why you needed to get far, far away from this situation. Away from him.

But the longer you looked back at him—the longer you tried to slap that easygoing smile on your face—the longer he stared back with the same steady intensity. 

“Is something the matter?” you tried. 

Azriel’s hand twitched. 

That feeling crept along the edges of your ribs once again. 

“Is something the matter?” he parroted, jaw so impossibly tight the words came out pinched. 

You finally looked away, playing with your fingers. “Yes?” 

He started laughing. But it wasn’t the kind of laugh that made you feel light. It didn’t fill you with pride for eliciting such a sound from him, nor did it make you want to laugh in return. It made you feel dark; as Azriel laughed, you wanted to heave the sound back within the depths it flowed from. 

“There are several things that are the matter, y/n, but I’d say the most pressing is that you have been avoiding me for weeks. That every moment I’ve tried to spend with you has been promptly evaded and now you’re leaving and you had no intention of saying goodbye.” 

“I was going to—” 

“Please,” he pleaded, eyes soft yet so achingly desperate. “Don’t lie to me. Not right now.” 

The indent in the carpet was becoming permanent; you couldn’t seem to move. 

“I’ve been… I’ve been going through a hard time. Leaving seemed like it was the best for me. Just for a little while. Just until I could sort a few things out.” 

“For how long?” he asked, voice cracking along the precipice of the last word. 

You paused then, staring hard into his eyes. “A while.”

A shaky breath left the shadowsinger, his chest reflecting the sound. He ran a hand into his hair and tugged at the roots, an action you hadn’t seen him do in years. A sickening sort of pity ran through you—a sort of responsibility. 

Because Azriel was your friend, and he was going through something, too. You had no idea if his mate reciprocated his feelings. You found it hard to believe that anyone wouldn’t love Azriel, but the conversation you’d overheard last week gave nothing away. 

Maybe Azriel hadn’t told her yet because she didn’t love him. And maybe you were being a bad friend by not being there for him. 

Tossing your hurt to the side, you took a step forward. Azriel watched the movement, eyes flickering behind you to catch the previous imprint of your feet on the carpet. 

“I’m sorry,” you began, resolute. “I’m sorry that you felt you couldn’t tell me. And that you’ve been… having a hard time. I know I’m not leaving at the most opportune time, but you can write to me and I can help you.” 

Some of the brokenness on Azriel’s face morphed into confusion. “Help me?” 

“With your mate.” 

And it was as if Azriel had been shot. He physically recoiled, his right foot coming down to catch him as he fixed his imbalance. 

“I know you wanted to keep it private, but I overheard. Azriel—” You swallowed. Hard. “—It’s so wonderful that you’ve found your mate.” 

Something was set in motion, and Azriel was shaking his head. His gaze was fixed on you and his eyebrows were pushed together in a painful expression and he just kept shaking his head as your chest caved and it became hard to breathe. Something pulled from within and it felt like your heart was unraveling. 

Couldn’t he see how hard this was? How much it took from you just to acknowledge that he was destined for someone else? 

The shadowsinger seemed unaware of your inner turmoil, instead taking long steps across the room until he reached you. He leaned down, brought his hands up to your face, and he broke another piece of you as his forehead touched yours. 

He was whispering something, words so low even your fae ears couldn’t catch them, but you knew they were fast. Fast and incoherent and you weren’t even able to find their meaning in his expression because his eyes were squeezed so tightly. 

“Please, just notice. See it, angel, it’s there.” 

Your jaw quivered. He was so close to you. The few words you were able to make out were confusing. 

“My oblivious girl. Please.” 

“Azriel—” 

When he opened his eyes, the world fell off its axis. The fear in your chest—the feeling that had been unraveling you and leaving you weak—alighted. It pulled and pulled but this time it didn’t hurt. It no longer left splinters embedded in your ribs or took the breath from your lungs. 

As you looked up at Azriel, it was only soothing and warm and—

Mate. Azriel was your mate. 

You pushed back from him, stumbling and catching on the rug as you went toppling down to the floor. There was no pain from the fall; a numbness overtook your body where the warmth once flowed. 

“You’re my—Azriel, you—” 

There were no endings to the sentences you began. Azriel tried reaching a hand down, but when you wouldn’t take it he joined you on the floor. He sat with you between his legs, bringing you forward until your knees curled against his chest. And then he wrapped you in his arms and then his wings, taking calming breaths as yours ran rampant. 

“I am your mate,” he finished for you, so much more soothing than you had ever heard him speak.

“But Elain,” you gasped out, finding solace against his chest. You leaned your forehead against him and relished in the heat. 

“What of Elain?” Azriel asked, bringing a hand up against the back of your head. 

“You love Elain.” 

“I do not love Elain.” 

“And Mor?” 

“I do not love Mor, either.” 

You nodded against him. This would take longer for you to come to terms with later, but only simple answers were getting through to you now. And the bond—the bond—sang as you touched Azriel. The bond didn’t care if you were confused or hurt or disbelieving.

Your mind swam as a new influx of emotions filled you, but there was a distinction to them and you knew they weren’t your own. At first, it was hard to pick through them all; there were so many that they all blended together. There was an obvious tender love, but also a crippling fear that mingled with a darkness you couldn’t place. There was adoration and hopefulness and a sense of peace that lay at the bottom of all else. 

But you could tell this peace was new. It wasn’t as deeply ingrained as the others. 

Azriel leaned back, craning his neck down to catch your gaze. “Do you feel that?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued. “Those feelings have always belonged to you. All of them. I know there is not a lot of proof of that, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for that, but they have always belonged to you.” 

“Have you always felt mine?” you asked, voice sounding unused. 

“Since I’ve felt the bond,” he nodded. 

“How long have you…” 

Azriel sighed, but it wasn’t out of irritation. The bond told you as much. “Months.” 

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “Then why did you never—” 

Azriel shushed you as your voice cracked. He ran both hands behind your head and held you steady as his lips pressed to your forehead. 

“I didn’t want to lose you.” 

Throat still closed, words still choked, you replied, “That is idiotic.” 

This time, when Azriel laughed, you felt that pride spark up in your chest. “I know, angel. Gods, do I know that.” 

There was a brief pause, a respite to the revelations and emotions in the room. You counted your breaths as you pressed against Azriel, and he ran his hands up and down the length of your spine, chaste kisses pressed to your head as the minutes ticked by. 

“Don’t leave.” Azriel broke the silence. “Stay. Please.” 

When you didn’t answer, he kept talking. 

“You don’t have to love me. I know that is a lot to ask and there are still so many questions left unanswered. But, y/n, I have loved you for a long, long time. I couldn’t bear it if you left. It has been difficult to even function this past week with you avoiding me. If you were to leave—”

“I only avoided you because I thought it wasn’t me,” you interrupted, pulling back once again to meet his gaze. “I thought you didn’t love me and I couldn’t stand it, so I wanted to leave.”

A grim line set into Azriel’s mouth. The desperation returned to his eyes. “We have wasted so much time.” 

“I wouldn’t say wasted. Not when you were here. Not when I was still with you.” 

“Angel.” The word came out like a plea, and then his lips were on yours. His hands pressed you closer and his mouth was hot against yours and it was everything you’d spent three centuries ignoring. You loved him, gods did you love him, and in this kiss was every proof that he loved you. 

You tangled your fingers in his hair, musing the already displaced strands. His wings quivered as you kissed him more, the action sending little pools of light into the bubble he had created. They felt warm against your eyelids, and when you pulled away to see the cause, Azriel moved his attention to your jaw, your cheek, your neck. 

“You are my mate,” he affirmed against your skin, low and gravelly. “Mine.” 

You pulled his head away, leaning your forehead against his own. “And you are mine.” 

“I love you,” he said. 

And you couldn’t say it back, not yet. Azriel seemed unperturbed by this and accepted your small smile as a reply, reciprocating it tenfold. His smile shone in the pockets of light created by his wings and his eyes no longer looked sad. It made you want to say it back.

When that guilt flooded you and your mouth parted, there was a tug at the bond instead. You gasped at the feeling, blinking up at Azriel with owlish eyes. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admitted, smile softening as he ran scarred fingers along your cheeks. “Every time I felt your doubt or fear. I figured I could startle it out of you.” 

You rubbed at your chest. “It feels warm. And…” You couldn’t find the words.

“It feels good, angel. This bond was cold and it hurt, but it—it feels good. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” 

A breathy, awestruck laugh escaped you. “You know, I still have to go to Day for the weekend. It’s court-appointed.” 

Azriel groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Then I will come with you,” he grumbled, words muffled against your skin. 

“You cannot. But you can wait for me to return and I will come right back here.”

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction

[equallyshaw]

call your mom | q. hughes. ↠ based off the song by noah kahan! ↠ best friend duo! sunny is her nickname! ↠ warnings: talks of anxiety, depression and an attempt. (not shown) also, some grammatical errors ! ↠ word count: 2k

quinn knew it all, and had known about it since their first frat party they attended when she ended up drunk which resulted in an anxiety attack; during their freshman year at michigan. yet, he never let that get in the way of their budding friendship and hadn't let it over the past almost 7 years of knowing one another. the longest friendship, she'd had outside her other best friend sadie. he would pick up at every 3 am call she'd make to him, he would call her when the ghosting she did began or would figure out where she was when he'd come home during the summer & she wouldn't come to the lake house while not letting him know. or most importantly he wanted to say everything he felt too, when all the times he would catch her telling her true feelings for him, but then she would make a sarcastic and dark-humored joke about it, before changing the subject.

she was his best friend, throughout all of his shit too. she'd go above and beyond for him, and quinn felt less than at times about it. how much compensation she'd do for him when she was hurting and in need of a hug or a pep talk. when she needed warmth and safety. so when she proposed staying in detroit after four years at michigan, for a business degree, he jumped at the prospect. selfishly, at least a little part for quinn, was that he'd know that she was safe at all times- albeit his brothers, their shared groups of friends from michigan, or his parents. to which she'd made a joke of it, "how do its feel to be behind mama hughes on my emergency contact list?"

❂

Oh, you're spiralin' again The moment right before it ends, you're most afraid of But, don't you cancel any plans 'Cause I won't let you get the chance to never make them

❂

it was a rainy, torrential downpour, july friday evening in the detroit - ann arbor area. it was around 9 pm when she'd just gotten out work due to a project that blew up in her and her colleague's faces- so the five of them were stuck there until it was done. she knew that this was her breaking point, and it seemed like once a quarter she'd simply lose it. start ghosting everybody she loved, canceling plans or not even bothering to show up to them without a word. so now here she was, sitting in her townhouse garage and sobbing. she'd been denying each and every call that quinn had been making, the duration of the drive home. she'd promised to call him after she got out to discuss her flight in the morning, to toronto where he was with his brothers and a few friends and girlfriends. she couldn't pull herself to bring herself inside after shutting her car off. she couldn't pull herself together to shower, to eat or to even finish packing for her flight. she couldn't even pull herself to wipe her cheeks that were molten red and drenched with salty tears.

all the way in toronto, quinn was panicking. freaking out outside of the restaurant they were all at. why wasn't she picking up? his mind ran with soulless ideas and thoughts, one's that made him think the worst and on the verge of throwing up. after the 20th call (i know) he called his mom, who said she hadn't heard from her since the previous sunday when they went to brunch, despite her telling his mom that she'd text her something that week. and then once ellen had said that it had been pouring the whole day and hadn't let up, his anxiety surged. what if she slid into a ditch? what if she skidded into another car? lost her vision through the windshield? a million thoughts echoed throughout his mind, as he tried to calm himself down. "if you cannot get ahold of her before 12, i will go over there to make sure she is ok." ellen offered, and that made quinn breathe a bit. that was the first thing he thought of when she said she'd be staying in detroit, that his mom would be nearby at all times. as selfishly as that was, quinn thought.

❂

Don't let this darkness fool you All lights turned off can be turned on I'll drive, I'll drive all night I'll call your mom

❂

she pushed her garage door open into the mud room, sliding her purse and shoes off. she slowly made her way towards the kitchen, grabbing the water canister from the fridge and pouring herself a tall glass. her phone continued to buzz with messages from quinn, and now luke and jack, who were overly concerned for the one person they saw as an older sister. she peered down at it, and saw a text from quinn stating: please text, call, anything please. im gonna drive home tonight - rn. she sighed, pulling her phone into her hands and typing, "don't." and quinn pressed his head down on the restaurant table, he had just sat back down at. she pressed the button to call him and he picked up on the second ring, "don't do that quinn, im fine." she lied through gritted teeth. he shook his head, heading back outside. "sunny...please." he begged, as his voice broke. a thick crack with emotion bubbling underneath. "i promise, im ok." she lied again, and now her body was betraying her. "sunny?" he asked softly, and then he heard her sobs. "sunny?" he questioned again, as her sobs got heavier. "im sorry. im sorry quinine.....god, i wish-" she paused as she realized what she was gonna say, something she'd wanted to say for years when he'd be there to comfort her. "i wish i'd never met you quinnie, you have never deserved any of this and do not deserve it." she sobbed, breaking quinn's heart in the process. "no! you don't get to say that, or believe that. because i sure as hell don't." he argued and she shook her head. "no, you don't deserve a friend that doesn't see the good in the world. who doesn't look towards tomorrow with a mindset of, that things are gonna be better. tomorrow's a new day. you don't deserve that, your family, my family- nobody deserves it." she croaked, wiping her tears roughly off of her cheeks.

quinn's heart broke, "i promise sunny- this time its gonna be different. we will get you better help, ill take you wherever we need to go to get you the help you need. were not giving up, ok? im not nor ever going to give up. you're my best friend sunny, we will work through this. there's so much good about you and the way you treat everybody around you. everything is gonna be ok sunny, ok?" he pleaded, and she heard her sniffles. "i promise that everything will be made new, sunny. let me - let me drive home right now, ill call your mom- ill call my mom, everything will be ok!" he said more so to trick himself into thinking it, but he was terrified. she shook her head, "no its quinnie, im just gonna go to sleep." she said before hanging up.

❂

Waiting room, no place to stand His greatest fears and wringing hands and the loudest silence If you could see yourself like this If you could see yourself like this, you'd have never tried it

❂

as quinn was just getting his bags together from the hotel room, and waiting on the delivery of a rental car - he got the call from his mom. he was with his brothers when he got it. he called her after sunny had hung up, asking her to go be with her until he could get there. about 2 hours later because of flooding and how bad the vision was that evening, ellen had made it to her townhouse right outside of detroit. and the moment she got off the phone with 911, she called quinn. whose world was rightfully, broken in half.

_

quinn stood in the waiting room after driving back with his brothers, and so the three of them stood there silently. ellen was the only one with sunny at that moment, now - 6 am. ellen had been with sunny since 1 am, that morning after her and jim drove to check on her. jack called sunny's mom, who lived in Indianapolis with her step father, who instantly got in the car and drove up to detroit. who were nearing their arrival any minute. all three of the boy's minds ran wild with thoughts and feelings, but quinns. his were lethal at this point, and filled with guilt, more than anything. quinn's head whipped up when he saw jim walking from the elevator and nodded towards quinn, and then his two other sons. "come with me." jim said before he took them with him upstairs. she'd been taken to the psych floor after she had arrived.

"she is ok quinn." jim said placing a hand on his shoulder to try to comfort him. quinn nodded softly, the look on his face of somebody who was mentally gone. jim and the three boys, stepped out and towards her room. ellen turned her head when the door opened, "your dad and i are gonna head downstairs to wait for her parents, we will be downstairs." ellen said standing up and quinn nodded, "we'll go with you." jack said referring to him and luke, who nodded as well. "let us know if you need anything q." ellen said comfortingly and he nodded, still looking towards sunny. the family walked out, leaving quinn who sat down next to the girl. she was sleeping peacefully and soundly, not flinching or stirring the dark haired girl after he grabbed her hands softly. his hands eclipsed hers, as he did so. he brought their hands to his lips, as he sat forward with his elbows on knees. "fucking a sunny." he mumbled to himself, "i thought i'd lost you for good this time." he added as silent tears poured out thinking about the last time, this almost happened.

_

Stayed on the line with you the entire night 'Til you told me that you had to go

_

"i dont want to do it anymore quinnie." she sobbed. her final semester of senior year was getting to her, and she was stressed beyond the max with work, her internship and life in general. and what made it harder, was that quinn was in vancouver while she was in ann arbor.

"what can i do for you, sunny? please tell me what i can do."

"you can't do anything q, there's nothing stopping me or in my way anymore." she cried.

quinn shook his head, "dont say that. you know that isn't true. you've got your mom, sister, brother, sadie, my family and, and me. and you're whole future ahead of you." he said through a scratchy voice.

"sunny, please stay on the line with me until you fall asleep. i don't care how late it is." he said - no pleaded.

"i gotta go quinnie. ill call you tomorrow morning." she said before hanging up, before heading over to the hughes' residence.

❂

Oh, dear, don't be discouraged I've been exactly where you are

❂

sure, quinn could not totally relate to sunny. but he had had his moments. when his first season ended, the off season between the 2022-2023 season and 2023-2024. where the team had been god awful. he'd had moments of unclarity, throughout their friendship. but certainly, never on the level of her's. but there were moments where the two could bond on a different level, and where the two could feel exactly how the other felt.

he'd come out on the other side every single time, and did not let it discourage him. he knew it was a part of life, and the career that he chose. he hoped at some point, before it was too late, that she'd come out on top on the other side.

that she'd finally be able to get some peace in life.

she woke up around 7:30 am, with her parents in the hallway with ellen and jim, talking quietly over everything. quinn sat next to her, while his brothers went to go get coffee and small breakfast items for everybody. when the girl awoke, she did not expect to be there in the hospital. she didn't expect to see quinn beside her, looking past her out the window. she didn't expect to be alive, to be quite honest. she shifted a little bit as tears formed in her eyes, as she felt guilt wash over her. and a bit of frustration, that it hadn't worked.

"sunny.." quinn began trailing off, as he felt her hand pull from his and saw her shift in the bed. she looked at him with the biggest puppy eyes he'd ever seen, and then her lips began to quiver. he quickly hopped into the hospital bed, pulling her into him as she began to sob. her throat dry and scratchy as she began to speak, "why?" she begged. "why me?" she added, as quinn kissed her head. "why am i so broken?" she sobbed into the warmth of his chest, as he began to cry with her. "i don't deserve you quinnie, i don't. i never have and never will." she croaked, and he frowned. he pulled back a bit and brought his hands to her cheeks, to make her look at him. he shook his head, "i don't deserve you my sunny." he began, before swallowing. "from the moment i met you, in that god awful english course, you showed me that a person can be relentlessly kind, incredibly unselfish, and even if you don't realize it - you find the good in everything and everyone." he paused, "and now you need to find that goodness in yourself. because it is there." he finished, his brown eyes pouring into hers.

both of their eyes filled with tears, and their bodies full of nerves.

she nodded softly, "and if you couldn't tell through that thick skull of yours- that's my way of telling you i love you." he quickly diffused the situation, "and how much love i have for you." he added quickly. she smiled softly, "i love you too, quinnie. thankyou for pointing out my thick skull." she hummed, before leaning into his left hand.

❂

Throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason Don't wanna drive another mile wonderin' if you're breathin' So, won't you stay, won't you stay, won't you stay with me?

❂

it was now early august, and between therapy and time away from work- the girl was finally beginning to understand what quinn had meant when the two spoke that early morning at the hospital. he'd been there every day with her since then, making sure she got the appropriate help alongside her mom. he'd made sure he kept her schedule in order, making sure she went to her in-person therapy sessions, made sure that she was eating enough, drinking enough water, and made sure to take her mind off of it all. this was one of their final full weeks together, and quinn wanted to make the most of it.

he drove the two from ann arbor down to new buffalo michigan, on lake michigan about two in a half hours outside of chicago. he rented the two a small beach house on a private beach for the getaway. this morning the girl rose around 5:04 am, right before sunrise. she quickly got out of the shared bed (which wasn't a shared bed in the beginning, but after a night staying up to talk it naturally became one.) and headed out towards the beach that was a foot off of the back deck. she made her way down the beach, after slipping on a one piece and submerged herself quickly into the lukewarm water.

she dunked herself underneath the water, before swimming back to the surface. she hadn't realized that quinn had followed her out, after feeling the bed shift and then a cold spot in her wake. she turned behind her after quinn had snapped a pic, and she smiled. "morning q." she smiled, now swimming on her back. he smiled, sitting down on the deck and putting his legs in the water.

"will I be subject to a pep talk today?" she teased with a grin, as quinn chuckled. he shrugged, "maybe." he mused. "let me guess its gonna include punching somebody, giving myself a reason to do things and possible falling in love? two topics of which haven't been talked about?" she quipped, pulling herself up the deck to sit next to him on it. she leaned her head that was soaked on his shoulder, and he smiled softly resting his on hers.

"why dont you come back to vancouver with me?" he questioned out loudly, a few minutes later. she felt her breathe hitch in her throat, before removing her head from his. "you don't have to say yes right now but...i don't know if i can go without seeing you. i don't think i can handle you ghosting me and shutting the world out. after that night, i don't want to wake up and fear that you arent breathing anymore. but ofcourse, if you won't come with me- ill stay here. ill take some time off, and we can work on things." he offered and she shook her head. "you you cant do that for me." she pleaded and he now shook his head, "id do anything for you sunny, don't you understand that?" he paused to gauge her reaction, "id do everything in my power and simply - my existence for you. you have been such a light in my life despite everything, since the moment you walked into it. and i frankly, am never letting you walk out of it." he said as she began to feel overwhelmed. she'd never thought about how quinn felt about her, through everything. especially through the short term girlfriend he'd had and the talking stages that went nowhere with girls.

"dont say what it is i think you're going to say." she begged, as she began to cry. more so, happy tears. he wiped them quickly, looking into her eyes. "i love you, and have always loved you. even from the sidelines and through my own shit i have loved you from that first damn and god-awful frat party, and from the moment you said hi." he said rubbing his thumbs across her cheeks. she clasped her eyes shut and shook her head, "look at me pretty girl." he whispered and she reopened them. "back in the hospital room, you said it then, why did you try to run it back? why did you try to neutralize it?" she questioned, "because you didn't deserve it in that moment. you deserved better." he answered. she nodded, "i would have said it back quinnie. i would have said it if you hadn't shut up." she said with a small grin. his head cocked to the side just a bit. "i love you quinn, and i have always. i've loved you through everything. your dedication to never giving up on me, has shown me some of the greatest love in life. and in turn, has made me fall so deeply in love with you." she confessed and quinn smiled. he smiled widely before leaning in slowly, but it was too slow for the girl. she connected the two's lips and melted into his body.

she pulled away, "oh and before we move on for the day, id love to come to come to van with you. i miss brock." she teased before he pulled the girl up and towards the lake house.

and now here we are !!!! i hope you enjoyed, especially if you made it to this point🫶🏻

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #vancouver canucks #luke hughes #jack hughes #new jersey devils #nhl #hockey #nhl blurb #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #hockey blurb

[themissinghand]

Genshin Impact: Curiosity Blessed the Cat

Summary: In which Alhaitham meets an academic rival worthy of his attention. (Or the reader wants to find their way back home, the old-fashioned way)

Pairing: Alhaitham x Neutral! Creator! Reader!

Note: Slight SAGAU themes, y'know, gold blood and worship.

Warning: Mentions of blood

"Did you hear? The new kid scored incredibly high on the Haravatat entrance exam and was immediately accepted into our Akademiya." 

"They also seem to be quite knowledgeable despite coming from Liyue Harbour. Perhaps they were a merchant." 

"It's not just their score, but also their creativity and feasibility in the essay portion that has impressed other scholars and professors. The higher-ups are saying that it's the birth of another talent like Alhaitham and Miss Lisa!"

Alhaitham strategically chose to ignore the pointed looks and the scattered conversations around him.

It's meaningless to listen to anyway. 

Besides, this book in front of him was much more intriguing than some new student. In fact, he spent most of his days in the library, surrounded by ancient texts and scholarly articles rather than people. 

Luckily, the librarian silenced them with a pointed glare, and peace was restored once again. 

However, while he was lost in thought, a burst of whispers brought him back to the present. He begrudgingly looked in the same direction as others, and noticed a new face in the library. 

"It's the new Liyue student." 

Alhaitham rolled his eyes at his fellow classmates. But just as he was about to return to reading his book, the librarian was walking towards him with the new student. 

"These shelves store academic journals of various topics, but for studies on engineering, astronomy and chemistry, those shelves contain what you are looking for."

"Thank you." 

When the new student walked past his table and towards the large shelves, Alhaitham slowly became amused by the sight. 

Compared to the research journals and published articles, the new student seemed small in comparison. Though he was slightly impressed (or even doubtful) that a person could read, or even understand the sheer number of research material they were collecting in their arms. 

"Hello, do you mind if I sit here?" Alhaitham nods solemnly without another word, and they sit down diagonally from him with their stack of books. 

"Thank you."

It was then did Alhaitham noticed that there were multiple languages in that one stack. 

Oh? Do they understand them all? 

It took one full day at the library for him to learn that the new student is quite interesting. 

Always reading books that nobody else seemed interested in and their grasp of the languages was impressive. He could read their translated notes from a glance.

When they finally finished their pile of research material, they unexpectantly let out a sigh. 

"Damn, they don't have what I was looking for." They murmured in disappointment before stretching. 

Alhaitham blinked in surprise behind his book. 

What were they looking for? From his knowledge, the Akademiya has the largest collection of knowledge and research, despite this, they were unable to find what they were looking for? 

"Hello, sorry to disturb you." Alhaitham looks up from his book slowly and sees a sheepish smile. 

"Do you mind helping me put some books back? My legs have gotten stiff."

"Alright." 

So the two returned the books back to their original position in a quick and organized manner. 

"Thank you. My name is (Y/N) by the way, nice to meet you." They held out a hand for a handshake. 

"Alhaitham." He introduced himself briefly, and shook their hand. 

"Then, I'll see you around Alhaitham." 

Alhaitham watched them leave, and suddenly felt his vision pulse by his shoulder.

Oh? Why is that? It was as if it was telling them to leave the library. 

Curious, he picked up his vision and inspected it, but after a few minutes, it returned to normal as if nothing happened. 

But Alhaitham knew it had something to do with (Y/N).

Alhaitham was surprised when he saw them the next day in his class. They introduced themselves as a traveler and a previous merchant who dealt with rare and exotic items.

The other too seemed surprised to see him, but offered a polite smile in response. 

Before he knew it, (Y/N) became his seatmate and naturally, whispers follow. 

Especially since (Y/N) seemed to do exceptionally well in their academics, so much so that Alhaitham was suspicious and annoyed at how much others were comparing them. 

"(Y/N)." They look up in surprise.

"Oh, Alhaitham. How are you?" 

"Are you trying to graduate early?" Alhaitham asks bluntly because at the rate they are succeeding in their academics, they may as well be.

"Yes I am actually." 

"Why?" 

"Well, I want to gain access to more records, the general library doesn't have what I want. I believe the easiest and more efficient way is to gain merits and succeed in academics." 

That certainly makes more sense, and proves one of his predictions.

"And what exactly are you looking for?" 

"Hmm, I want to see if there was a way to utilize the power of visions and help people travel to countries faster." 

Alhaitham knew there was more to that, or else, why would they also look into astronomy? 

"I also want to see if I can go home." Another murmur, and Alhaitham felt a chill go down his spine, his vision pulsing stronger this time. 

"What?" 

"Oh would you look at that? I have to go. I'll see you around Alhaitham."

"Wait-" 

(Y/N) was gone in a flash, leaving behind scattered notes.

When Alhaitham picked up one, he was surprised to see notes on the Creator, the almighty being that created their world and one worthy of worship and loyalty.

But this was something everyone knows by heart, why would a student like (Y/N) have to learn, much less note about such an obvious thing? 

Alhaitham immediately left to search for (Y/N), his curiosity got the best of him.

From that moment on, Alhaitham became even more fascinated by the (Y/N), trying to learn everything he could about them. However, who knew that in the process that he would find himself becoming more ambitious and competitive? 

Always trying to beat them in academics and finding ways to make them reveal their secret. 

Especially as to why his vision is reacting to them so. 

But until then, he has grown to enjoy their presence and curious nature, questioning everything around them, and suggesting ideas he never thought of. 

Alhaitham realized that they were truly a scholar in their own right, someone who is not corrupted or power-hungry, but someone...perhaps similar to him. 

Graceful, kind, knowledgeable and hard-working, this is who (Y/N) was like from the beginning to the present.

They may not be a vision user, but still understands quite a bit about visions. As such, when Alhaitham asked them about his pulsing vision, they were curious about it too.

"May I inspect it?" 

Alhaitham was surprised at how easily he agreed to their request, after all, the act of touching another's vision meant you had immense trust for them. 

The moment they touched it, Alhaitham felt warm, as if he was in a mother's embrace. 

Alhaitham took a step back instinctively at the strange feeling and almost tripped over a long vine that grew from his vision, but a hand grabbed onto his wrist to stabilize him.

"Oh crap!" (Y/N) is not one to swear, but when they do, Alhaitham knew there must be a reason. 

(Y/N) quickly let go of his wrist, and before they could cover it, Alhaitham saw something extraordinary.  

Gold blood. 

It seems that they injured themselves on the same vine.

Regardless, only the Creator would have gold blood!

Everything started to snap together in place. 

"You are-"

Without another moment of hesitation, their hand covered his mouth before pushing him against the wall. Their eyes darted around nervously and then laughed nervously at the bewildered and flushed faces around them. 

Their graceful image was suddenly replaced with a flustered and panicked one. 

Ah, this was their secret. 

"You can't just say my crush's name out loud. That's so embarrassing!" 

What? Why are they hiding?

Alhaitham saw their hand, that should have been bleeding, but is not. It was completely healed. 

Before Alhaitham could say anything, they whispered beside his ear. 

"I don't know what you saw, but keep it a secret." 

Alhaitham felt his vision pulse again, and he swallowed slowly, before nodding. He realized it was an order from the Creator. 

It had to be, or else why would his vision and himself, be so willing to listen to their request?

They slowly let him go before returning his vision, dragging him away and sprinting down to the library. 

This time, they led the way while his mind is drawing many conclusions at once.

Then he flushed in embarrassment. 

This person...is the Creator! And he followed them for weeks just to satisfy his curiosity! 

How would they ever look at him again if they found out?

And he's holding their hand. 

He is not worthy of such a privilege. 

Despite the chaos in his mind, he doesn't show it even as the duo found themselves in the silent library. They walked between two rows of tall ancient books. 

When they let go of his hand, he felt something left him briefly, and it wasn't the greatest feeling in the world. 

"Before you make conclusions, I will ask you to keep everything you saw a secret." Alhaitham blinked as he processed the implications behind their words. 

"There is only one person that has golden blood, and healing powers of that extent." He remembers what the stories told. 

"The Creator." They flinched, but didn't back down, in fact, they crossed their arms. With just one look at their eyes was enough to almost send Alhaitham to his knees. 

"That is quite a prediction. Without any evidence, Alhaitham?" Alhaitham felt his breath quicken as a giant pressure descended on him. His vision is pulsing too quickly, as if panicking. 

"No, your highness. I could never." He responded robotically as he knelt in their presence.

"Highness? Where did you get that from? And why are you kneeing, get up." Two hands held his shoulders, sending shivers down his spine that jolted him awake, and made him reached out to hold hers. 

"You are the Creator." He states firmly, without any doubt. 

"I'm not. And you can be committing a crime right now-" 

If that's what it took, then Alhaitham will bear the consequences. 

With a quick movement, his nail scratched the skin of their hand, and before they could cover it, Alhaitham stopped them and watched as gold appeared for just a second before disappearing as if it never existed. 

That was all he needed before he knelt again. 

"Please punish me as you see fit your highness."

They're the Creator.

The saviour of this world. 

Was that why they were conducting research? To find a logical way to save Teyvat? Was there a danger?

Also...did they want to go home?

Ha.

"Alhaitham, stop this. I don't need you to act any different than before." They groaned a bit before deciding to accept their fate. 

Why are they hiding the fact that they're the Creator?

No, the real question is, why is he questioning their requests? As a devout believer, he should not doubt them at all.

And since he did, he is ready to take on any punishment. 

He takes their hand and places a gentle kiss, watching them turn into a stuttering mess. 

A reward for his curiosity and pursuit of knowledge.

Just how many people know that the very deity they worship is right beside them?

"What are you-"

"Your highness, please command me as you see fit." 

The other sighs and rubs their temples, muttering something about how "Zhongli" was like this too, and how they shouldn't have let their curiosity get the best of them. Alhaitham furrowed his eyes in the mention of another name and wondered if this was perhaps their friend in Liyue. 

"One, don't act any different than before with me. Two, keep my identity a secret. Three, don't question nor interfere with my goals. That's an order." 

Alhaitham does not understand why the Creator is adamant in hiding their identity or living like a normal person, but he will obey their wishes. However, there is one thing he will not allow.

"I will heed your order." 

That is to allow the Creator to leave, and "go home".

#alhaitham #al haitam x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin sagau #gn reader #gn y/n #genshin x you #al haitham #sumeru #genshin fluff

[cowgurrrl]

Tall Boy

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: I didn't go into writing this thinking I would write a little bit of spice so please be nice (poetry fr)

Summary: Fireworks, Uber Calls, Confessions, Oh My! [3.6k]

Warnings: consumption of alcohol, drunken shenanigans, Joel and Tommy being the only Texan men I would trust with my drinks, so much goddamn yearning, oh what's happening with Andie and Tommy??, Joel the Menace makes his return, smutty thoughts and actions (I've made them wait nine chapters they deserve to be a little horny. as a Treat.), getting caught, preparing you for Sleeping on the Blacktop

You don't get to cut loose very often as a teacher. You're almost always worried about lesson plans, grading, assignments, supplies, money (or lack thereof), politics, student's mental health, and a million other things that plague your mind when you try to sleep. Sure, you have a drink or two sometimes, but never anything close to like when you were in college and would end up back at your apartment at four in the morning just to get up three hours later for a lecture at eight. You weren't always going to be a high school teacher, and your past reflects that. And Andie has waited a long time to get a little bit of that spirit out of you again.

New Year's Eve starts easy enough with a nice dinner in downtown Austin with a glass of wine or two with the food. You and Andie got all dolled up in short, curve-hugging dresses and makeup and decided you would take yourselves out if nobody else was going to. "But we're not gonna get arrested like we did in high school, right?" You asked over dinner, but she just shrugged with a mischievous look in her eyes.

"We'll see where the night takes us." 

You bounced from bar to bar, sipping drinks and half-flirting with whoever approached, hoping for a free drink. Lucky for you, nobody is immune to Andie's charm. You lose track of how much you've had to drink once the room starts spinning pleasantly, and you can barely hear yourself over the loud music. You dance with beautiful strangers, sing along to the music, and even steal a cigarette from a willing accomplice outside. It feels good to act like your own age and not everybody's mom. 

By the time midnight rolls around for the Central Time Zone, you and Andie are drunk, leaning on each other and butchering the lyrics to Aud Lang Syne. "We should call an Uber!" Andie yells in your ear, and you nod. You stumble outside and squint at your phone, giggling at your fleeting thought.

"I've got a better idea than Uber."

You and Andie are sitting on the curb outside a gas station right off of Sixth Street, sharing a tall boy and following instructions to "stay put," when his truck pulls up next to you. Joel looks sleepy but not mad, while Tommy looks like he just walked up on a small miracle.

"I thought teachers weren't supposed to be fun!" He laughs as you hand Andie the beer and somehow get yourself to your feet.

"You, obviously, didn't have the right teachers." 

"I reckon so." He says as you dig your keys out of your purse to hand to Joel. He nods gratefully as Tommy helps Andie off the curb. They start talking about something, but you can't hear them over the way Joel's looking at you. Like he did at the gallery, his eyes linger on every piece of exposed skin he hadn't seen before. Something akin to worry clouds his vision, but you catch him looking at your legs and smack his chest. 

"Eyes up here, Mr. Miller," you call him out. "See somethin' you like?" You ask, and he chuckles at how southern you sound when you drink.

"You look very nice." He says, and you smile. For some reason, you step into him and rest your head on his shoulder. He's so warm, and you're tired and just drunk enough not to care about the rules. You feel him freeze for a moment before his hand comes up to your waist to help keep you upright. "Let's get you home, hm?" 

Andie refuses to leave Tommy's side now that they've gotten into an argument about the best musician of all time, and she decides to ride in your car with him while you climb into the truck with Joel. The second you're alone in the car with him, you just start laughing to yourself. Joel laughs a little, too, as he turns the ignition over. 

"What's so funny?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"Just you." You say, giggling a little more. 

"Me?" 

"Yeah, you."

"What about me?" 

"A few weeks ago, I thought I'd fucked you over, and now you're picking me up 'cause I got too drunk on New Year's Eve," it's not funny, but you laugh anyway. "You're a much better person than I am." You say. It's quiet in the truck as your words settle like dust on the dashboard. The only sound is the engine running and the distant sounds of fireworks popping in nearby neighborhoods. He takes a deep breath and rests a hand on your headrest to reach around in the backseat, producing his large jacket and pulling it over your body to protect you from the cold.

"I think you're a good person. Definitely a world better than me," he says as he puts the car in drive. "And, for what it's worth, you didn't fuck me over."

"No?" You ask, and he shakes his head, glancing at you as he pulls onto the road. 

"No." He says, and you hum. You pull his jacket closer to you and cling to the smell of pinewood, leather, and hints of his cologne. If they sold this smell in a candle, you would go into debt just to have it linger in every room. The thought presses on a bruise you forgot was there, and in your inebriated, vulnerable state, you can't stop yourself from staring at his profile as yellow streetlights and bursts of fireworks reflect across his face. 

You study him the way you've been dying to for months. Your eyes study how his eyebrows move with minute emotions and muscles. The way his big nose curves perfectly. The way his jaw clenches and unclenches when he's nervous or unsure what to say. You wish you had a piece of paper and a pencil to sketch his side profile as it comes into view between headlights. You don't believe in muses, but you believe in inspiration. Especially when you look at him.

"Thank you for comin' to get us. I know you'd rather be sleeping." You break the silence, and he nods. 

"I'd rather know you're safe than anythin' else," he says. "How much did you have to drink?"

"I don't know," you groan, absentmindedly rubbing at your face and no doubt smearing makeup. "People kept buying us drinks, and I'm so fucking broke, I'm not gonna say no to a free drink."

"People? What people?" He asks, his interest suddenly piqued. You shrug and put your feet up on the dash. He glances at them but doesn't shove them off. 

"I don't know. People. Men people." You say.

"Different men or the same guy?"

"Does it matter?"

"No," he says a little too quickly. "No, it doesn't matter. As long as you had fun." There's something off about his tone, but you can't place it. At least, not until he puts the final nail in his own coffin. "D'any of 'em try to get your number?" 

"Oh, my God!" You squeal excitedly as you sit up and put your feet back down. "Are you jealous?"

"No! Why would I be jealous? We're friends." 

"Yeah," you scoff. "'Friends.'" You say with intense finger quotes, and he furrows his brows as he looks at you. 

"Are we not friends?" 

"Joel, c'mon. I liked you from the second you walked into my classroom. We were never gonna be just friends." The confession comes loose before you can swallow it back down. It wiggles between you like a fish out of water, and you want to take it back. Not because it's not true but because you weren't ready to tell him. Things just got back to normal after the winter showcase. You're not ready to lose him again. 

"You're drunk," he says softly as if he's reminding himself more than anything. Maybe he thinks because you've been drinking, you don't mean it, but you do. You really, really do. It's too late to take it back, but you can try to bring levity back. You can try to backpedal a little. 

"You're drunk." You counter. He drives in silence for a few more miles, and the rumble of the car and the tequila weighing your mind down lull you to sleep— narrowly avoiding another hard conversation and worst-case scenarios.

You wake up on the first day of the new year hungover, sore, and in a bedroom you don't recognize. Bright sunshine bursts into the room and forces your eyes open in a squint. You almost jump up when you're greeted with a bottle of water and Tylenol on a nightstand that's not the white one on the right side of your bed. You sit up a little and look around at the cozy, if not a little cluttered, room.

The walls and the soft sheets are a nice, comforting blue. A few posters and pictures hang on the walls, and even a landscape painting hangs above the bed. Still, there's a little laundry strewn on the floor, and you recognize the closet full of flannel and button-up shirts next to you. You guess that's where your oversized, burnt orange Texas Longhorns shirt and black sweatpants came from. Snippets from the car ride and stumbling into the house fill your mind, and you groan in embarrassment. 

You remember Tommy calling Joel and telling him Andie got sick on the way to your apartment, and he didn't want to drop you off alone where something could go wrong. They offered to take you to their house, and in your drunk and stupid state, you said yes. You remember gentle hands holding your face as a cold, wet makeup wipe swiped across your skin, and thank God for that. Otherwise, you would feel worse than you already do. You remember hearing Andie and Tommy's voices outside the bedroom door, but you don't remember how you got into the room or the shirt. A light knock on the door pulls you out of your memories, and Joel walks in with a cup of coffee and a sympathetic smile.

"Good mornin', sunshine," he says, the right amount of mocking. "How're you feelin'?"

"Like I got hit by a truck." You say, and he laughs as he hands you the mug and sits on the bed. 

"I figured. I've got breakfast goin' downstairs. You need all the food you can get to soak up the alcohol." He says as you take a sip of the bitter coffee. You sigh into the cup at the (somehow) magical effects it has on your body, and he smiles. "That good, huh?"

"Yes, thank you," you say. "Thanks for everything. I know it probably wasn't fun trying to wrangle us last night."

"You weren't lyin' when you said how much trouble you and Andie got into together." He says. You think you could crawl into a hole and die at the embarrassing gaps in your memory.

"Oh, God. What happened?"

"Well, first of all, she wouldn't stop talkin' to you bout Tommy even though he was right there, but it was all good things. Then, you almost fell asleep on the couch after demanding’ Whataburger, and I had to carry you up the stairs. And then, Andie locked us in here and told us to figure our shit out."

"I'm gonna fucking kill her." 

"I'm pretty sure she almost fell asleep in the hallway waitin' us out. Tommy parked her in Sarah's room and slept on the floor in case she needed somethin'." He says. You knew the Miller men were kind and selfless, but this is a whole new level. You owe them a fruit basket or your kidney or something. You rub your temples and take another sip of coffee before taking two Tylenol. 

"And where did you sleep?" 

"You don't remember?" He asks, chuckling. At least he's not mad. If he was, you think you'd climb out the window and walk all the way home. "I tried to sleep on the floor, but every time I tried to lay down, you laid down next to me. You wouldn't even close your eyes unless I was next to you, so I built a little pillow wall and slept in bed." 

"Are you serious?" You ask, and he nods. You can vaguely recall getting into a hushed argument with him about kicking him out of his own bed and falling asleep against his chest, vindicated and content. You groan and bury your head in your hands. "Please tell me Ellie isn't here."

"She spent the night at Dina's house, none the wiser." He says. You almost say something about Ellie spending a lot of time with Dina recently, but keep your mouth shut. If something's going on, you doubt she wants her teacher to snitch on her to her dad.

"I'm so, so, so sorry, Joel."

"Don't be sorry. It was funny. I didn't know teachers partied so hard," he says, and you laugh a little. "Besides, it made me feel better knowin' you two were safe." You look up as he speaks and take a deep breath at how sweet he is. He smiles, and you scoot close enough to him to cuddle into his side. He welcomes you by tucking you under his arm and resting his head on yours. 

Your head is pounding, and your stomach is in knots, but the coffee and his presence help ground you. His hair is a little damp and smells like Ellie's shampoo. The thought of them sharing products makes you smile, and you rest a hand on his chest. Worn in, soft fabric cushioning your fingers as they rest over his heart. 

"Can we add this to our list of inappropriate secrets?" You ask quietly, and a puff of air leaves his nose in a laugh. He lifts his head from yours and looks down at you fondly. He doesn't look particularly well-rested, and you're sure that's your fault, but you also can't get over how beautiful he looks in the morning. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, his beard is a little unruly, and his shirt is crumpled, but the light streaming in makes his brown irises look amber and the grey in his hair silver. He's beautiful like this. He's beautiful all the time. 

"Course," he mumbles as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingers on your jaw, fingers caressing your cheek, and your hand slides from his chest to his shoulder to keep him close. "D'you get a New Year's kiss, at least?" He asks. You purse your lips as you stretch your memory back.

"'M pretty sure I kissed Andie." 

"Nice." He says, too impressed, and you push at his shoulder. 

"What about you? You get a New Year's kiss?" You're walking the wrong side of the line, and you both know it. He smirks anyway.

"I was a little busy takin' care of these two drunks." 

"One time," you say. "I go out one time, and suddenly I'm a drunk." 

"That's all it takes." He shrugs, and you laugh.

"Apparently," you say. "Well, I'm sorry again. Didn't mean to ruin your chances of getting kissed." 

"Nah, you didn't."

"No?"

"No," he shakes his head as he leans in and kisses you, tilting your face up to him so he can control the angle. Two months. It's been two months since you last kissed Joel, and you can feel all sixty days of want in the searing kiss. He's not shy like he might've been in the past— waiting for you to make this first move— he's commanding and steals your breath out of your lungs when his tongue slides against yours. It's different, and so, so good. You wind your hand into his hair and lightly tug when his hands roam down your body and grab at your hips. You take the signal and throw a leg over his hips to straddle him, gasping when he presses into the small of your back and pushes you against him. 

Now, you're awake. Fuck the coffee.

You're dizzy when his mouth dips from your lips to your jaw, biting the sensitive skin there, and his hands wander below the fabric of your (his) shirt. His fingers are soft when they graze against your sides, skimming up your body until he squeezes your breasts. Both of you groan as you arch into his touch. He's barely touched you, and you're already soaked.

"Missed you." He whispers as his lips blaze a trail down your neck while his fingers lightly pinch your nipples. You grind your hips into his, desperately searching for friction, and he hisses like you hurt him. His hips canting up reassures you you didn't. "You gonna disappear on me again, sweetheart?" It doesn't come across as mean, but there's a new authority in his voice that you're not used to hearing. The dam isn't just broken. It's in fucking shambles at the bottom of the river. 

"'M not going anywhere." You breathe. "I promise." You think you mean it. You think you want to mean it. You think you're done caring about optics and what's "right." You want him, and based on the way the bulge in his sweatpants prods under you, he wants you too. He pulls away from your neck to kiss your lips again, wraps an arm around your back, and lays you on your back on the mattress. 

You tug at the back of his shirt and greedily let your hands roam over his chest and back when he throws it across the room. He's all broad shoulders and strong arms, and you can finally feel the muscles and warm skin you've thought about since way before that night in the bar. When his fingers trace patterns into your inner thighs, you moan into him and grip his forearm hard. "Joel, I need-"

"What? What d'you need, baby? Tell me." He asks, his fingers dancing closer and closer to where you want him. It'd be so easy for him to slip his hand under the waistband of your sweatpants and feel how desperate you are, but he hesitates. "C'mon, use your words."

"Fuck, I-" You start to say when the door creaks open.

"Joel, do you want— woah!" Tommy yells before you hear the door slam shut again and his feet rushing down the hallway, no doubt to tell Andie about what he just saw. Joel groans and buries his face in your neck, and it takes everything in you not to laugh. 

"I'm gonna fuckin' kill him." 

"I'll help you hide the body." 

"Finally!" Andie yells from downstairs, and this time, you do laugh. 

"They're never gonna let us hear the end of this, are they?" You ask. 

"Probably not," he says. He's unmoving over you, and you sigh as you kiss his cheek. He lets his body weight drop into you, and you play with his hair while he rests his head on your chest. His hands rest under your body and press you closer to him, smothering you together. His broad shoulders expand and contract with every breath, and you count them as you scratch his scalp. "I have to go get Ellie soon." He mumbles into your chest. 

"Then, we should probably go." You say. He groans and kisses your sternum before pushing onto his forearms. He kisses up your chest to your neck, forcing a shaky breath from you when he nibbles at your earlobe. 

"I want you in my bed all the time," he whispers in your ear, making you shiver. "Wearin' my clothes, makin' all those pretty sounds, not havin' to worry bout Tommy or anybody." His chest rumbles against yours as he speaks; all you can do is squirm under him. His fingers picking up their previous patterns don't help either. "Wanna feel you come over and over again. On my fingers. On my tongue. On my cock. Wanna make you feel so good." His middle finger rubs against your clothed pussy, and your nails dig into his shoulder as you try to suppress a surprised sound. You're so wet, you'd be surprised if he couldn't feel the damp spot on your underwear. "You gonna let me make you feel good, baby? Huh?" He bumps your nose with his, subtly asking for attention when all you can focus on are the lazy circles he's drawing over you. 

"Please." You whimper, but you're not sure what you're begging for.

"I know, I know," he murmurs. You know you can't get away with anything with Tommy and Andie waiting for you downstairs but you want him to make good on his promise. You want him. You have for so long it's burning you from the inside out. And yet, he pulls away from you with a smirk. "I'm gonna take all the time in the world with you next time." He says as he rolls off of you, and you're left lying there, shocked and flushed.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You ask, sitting up, and he just shrugs as he pulls his shirt over his head. 

"I've gotta go get Ellie."

"Don't pull the Dad Card right now." You sound a little petulant, but honestly, you don't care. He worked you up to just walk away? This is cruel and unusual punishment. He presses his knee into the mattress and leans over you again, kissing you chastely.

"You'll have to get me back later." He says, and you sigh, shaking your head at the amused look in his eyes.

"I'm gonna make you wish you were dead."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #the last of us au #tlou au #joel miller au #the last of us fic #the last of us series #the last of us hbo #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller hurt/comfort

[madiisixx]

current!nikki where he is married with reader since the end of the dr. feelgood tour and in an interview he is asked abt how they met

Sweet Lover | Nikki Sixx x Reader

$ During a press interview that Nikki has for his upcoming tour with the band, he gets asked a question about his lady and how they met

AUTHORS NOTE: This is a smaller blurb because most of it is just a flashback! let me know if you'd like to see more current! Nikki Fics

Sitting in the Interview room was nothing new to the band. they had become custom to it and eventually got into a routine whenever they had one scheduled.

Nikki would be the talker for most of the time since that was what he was used to doing since the band started.

Tommy would be beside Nikki being his rambunctious self but more reserved as time had gotten to them.

Vince would Laugh at everything that the interviewers would say and ask and would think to himself that it was such a ridiculous question.

And Mick? he would be the alien that everyone knew him to be and sit there in silence until a question was directed his way.

the interview that the band was currently at, was an interview that was supposed to promote their upcoming tour from their new album but a question that was thrown Nikki's way was a topic he oh so loved to talk about.

Sitting on the Red Sofa with his arm propped up onto the armrest, Nikki had been asked a question.

"So, Nikki, you and your wife have been Married a long time. I recall around the Dr. Feelgood press tour? how about we hear the story about how you two had met?"

The question had gotten Nikki to put a huge smile on his face and a glimmer in his eyes, "yes we have been married quite a while, but she's the best thing that's ever happened to me. If it wasn't for her, I probably wouldn't still be clean today."

The interviewer chuckled and waited for Nikki to continue on, as were the other guys because they secretly loved Nikki to go all gushy and lovestruck whenever he mentions you.

Biting his lip and looking over at you across the other side of the room, where you had resided in every one of his interviews, he sat comfortably and reminisced about your past.

"Well, it was during the height of my addiction in 1987..."

FLASHBACK TO 1987

pain. That's all Nikki felt in his arms.

He knew that he had a problem with Herion, but he just couldn't stop. He tried yes but it was as if his brain was wired to say yes even though his gut told him no.

He looked around and noticed he was in an alleyway next to the Whiskey A Gogo.

remembering he was there to get some drinks and hopefully girls after a small gig before the band goes onto the Girls Girls Girls Tour, he tried to stand up but the pain in his arms was unbearable and he lost all the strength he could muster.

He was about to give up, when he saw a flash of blonde hair in his vision and a soft voice that almost sounded startled.

"Are you okay? Do you need me to call 911?"

He looked up with his bleary eyes at the sweet, angelic, voice and if he wasn't dead from the heroin he would've been dead now.

You were the most beautiful Woman he ever laid his eyes upon.

Your eyes shined so bright in the moonlight, your hair cascaded down your back in waves, your ruby red lips that it seemed he couldn't keep his eyes off of.

Hesitating for an answer to your question, he finally nodded instead of speaking as he didn't trust his voice because he was stunned of your beauty.

You eventually helped him up carefully off of the ground and put his arm around your shoulder trying to balance his weight with yours.

With some struggle, you eventually got to your car opting to take that instead of an ambulance, and drove him to the hospital to get treated.

As you arrived at the hospital, Nikki thought that you would leave and he would never see you again, but that wasn't the case.

You stayed with him for days, making sure he was alright and got every medical treatment that he needed.

You never went home, you stayed by his side to make sure he got some sleep.

You felt immediate attraction to this man, you knew that something good was going to come out of helping Nikki.

Even after he was out of the hospital, you exchanged numbers and made sure that Nikki had checked into rehab to try and get himself clean.

Which he did, just for you.

It may have been just a good deed, but to both of you it was love at first sight.

During Rehab, Nikki had started a relationship with you.

After he got out, he had asked you to move in with him.

A year later, he proposed.

you both got married at the end of the Dr. feelgood Tour, and you have been each other's true loves ever since then.

CURRENT TIME

Smiling at you across the room, Nikki saw that your face had gone red. Nikki chuckled and looked back at the interviewer, "And that folks, was how I met your mother."

Taglist: @tlclick73

Comment below to be added to the taglist!

#nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfic #madiisixx #motley crue #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #eddie munson x reader smut #steve stranger things

[theneighborhoodwatch]

The neighborhood map changed again! I'm not sure if the black thing (to borrow a Madeline L'Engle term) under Home has grown anymore. Some things I notice are Poppy's house's windows shut, Barnaby's pawprints, vines growing on the roof of Frank's house, and lots of sidewalk chalk doodles presumably from Julie (and maybe Wally drew Frank's face?).

I've noticed subtle changes to the neighborhood in previous updates too, but with more continuing to happen, as well as content we've gotten this Halloween update, I have a feeling these neighborhood changes are more... current than we might have previously thought.

This is a bit of a long shot, but I think everyone in Welcome Home is active, at least somewhat. Some characters are more aware than others. Maybe they're "waking up"; we've had two puppets, Wally through his doodles and Sally through the Halloween record, speak directly to us now.

In the secret bug audio, found on the transcript page for the Halloween record, the puppets mention that the spooky storytelling went well, as if it's a direct follow-up to the Halloween record. It's a discrepancy, sure, but perhaps not an unfounded one. Maybe the neighborhood's stuck in some sort of limbo between the present and the past, and only now, with the WHRP, Q/A, and us discovering it, is it literally reviving in front of our eyes.

correct me if i'm wrong, but uh - weren't all of those map details present from before the halloween update? i'm looking at these screenshots and my older captures of the map to compare, but i can't find any differences. i'm pretty sure the map's the same, aside from julie and frank's character cards changing to make it more explicit that they were intended as a couple in-universe (haha, knowing what we know, that's not worrying at all. /s)

anyways, to get to the Meat of this ask: i don't sally was speaking to us in the storybook record, just the neighbors As A Group, but i definitely think this update makes it a Lot more likely that home (the town) kind of exists, like, Outside of linear time? that it isn't so much that there's a divide between the stuff that was produced Then and what we see in the present day so much as it is that the stuff that the WHRP is uncovering is like, a window into what's going on in home Right Now, whether they realize it or not (and something may be actively blocking them from realizing??? not sure if it's that or if it's simply willful ignorance; i suppose we'll see.)

i'm reminded of a couple posts i made a little while ago, about the possibility that welcome home as a proper show never Actually existed, and the stuff that the WHRP's digging up is welcome home's attempts to will itself into reality anyway, for lack of a better description. but it also suffers from being tethered to a single person/group of people's Vision of it instead of being allowed to be an ever-evolving thing, or only being allowed to evolve in a Specific way. i dunno. i just kept thinking about that the entire time i was reading through this update.

anyways i'm also thinking about the way wally's eye-eating ability was represented in that post-storybook tape. i kind of like that it seems to be almost Overwhelming for him, like he hasn't gotten much of an opportunity to try it out before (if he's gotten any opportunity) and is like "oh. Oh. Oh. I Get It Now. holy shit." i don't have much to add onto that and that's just how i see it as of the time of this writing, but i would feel foolish if i didn't make note of it for later.

#pastelalleycat #ask #welcome home #wh speculation

[obsolescent]

This Side of Paradise - Part Two

Part One

Pairing: Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x GN!Reader

Summary: The events that happened after the fire. Unspoken words are finally out in the open and true feelings are revealed. There’s some truth to “when you have today, say all that you have to say.” 

Category/Prompt: Two-part series | “I’ll take care of you.”

Song: This Side of Paradise - Coyote Theory

Author’s Notes: Thank you for your support with part one! I’m so glad that so many of you enjoyed it! Once again, thank you @glitterypirateduck  for putting this event together, I’ve enjoyed participating! Gaz is the best guy, let’s go Gaz Nation!

Content Warnings: Non-descriptive vomiting, injuries from the fall, fluff, protective Kyle just wanting the best for you.

Word Count: 1,730

A myriad of colors and lights are what welcome you when you resurface from unconsciousness. Softened voices are heard, unable to pinpoint the location of chatter, like they’re echoing through your head. A heat like molten lava begins to spread from your feet upwards, consuming your flesh. ‘Did I not survive the fire? Did I just imagine I leapt from that window?’ Nausea soon joins that boiling feeling, your heart rate spiking. ‘I’m going to vomit. Can I even puke when I’m dead?’ Foolish questions aside, your upper body lurches forward anyways, beginning to empty what remains in your stomach.

A pressure is felt against your shoulder, something held out in front of you. A distant, “Easy, love,” You’re able to make out. ‘Well, it seems like I’m in good company in the great yonder.’ Groaning, that hand guides you back to the surface you had been laying against, soothing you with gentle rubs to your arm. You muster all the strength you can garner, willing your eyes to open. A tiled ceiling is what you’re first met with, when movement from your left is caught in your field of vision. 

“Ask me why my heart's inside my throat I've never been in love, I've been alone Feel like I've been living life asleep Love so strong it makes me feel so weak”

Kyle’s eyes crinkled, a grin creating a domino effect across his face that lights up his features. “Oh, so glad to see those pretty eyes of yours, love. How are you feeling?” His voice light with relief and jubilation at seeing your gaze upon him. You begin to move your arm, trying to feel something solid, like him, when there’s resistance. You glance down, confusion fading into realization once you see your arm encased in plaster. 

“Had a bit of a nasty fall there. A bit banged up, but you’re alright, yeah? You were so brave, dear. I’m proud of you.” A hand begins stroking your hair. “Thought I was dead,” you rasped, wincing at the ache in your throat. A ‘here’ and Kyle is offering you water through a straw. Taking a small sip to–literally–test the waters, you begin to drink more, confident there’ll be no bouts of nausea rising again. “Reminded me a bit of myself there, with what you pulled,” He chuckled, scooting his chair closer to your bed after you’ve had your fill of the drink. You gave him what you hoped to be an odd look, wondering what he’s gotten up to in his past. He shook his head with a smile, “I’ll tell you about it later, okay?” 

The doctor entered not long after, going into detail about what happened. An electrical fire broke out on the second floor of the apartments and it had been contained to just that floor, no damages to the structure of the building. Just some cosmetic work for them to tackle. Your estimate had been right, the fall had been around twenty feet. Thankfully you walked (limped) away with nothing more than a broken forearm and a sprained ankle. They had to use general anesthesia, hence the vomiting, to reset the bone. Undergoing surgery to insert screws and a rod. You had been out for a full day. They planned to keep you in the hospital for one more day, for observation. 

You notified your family, reassuring them you were alright and that everything was okay. They were relieved to hear from you, wanting any more updates about the situation as they came up. You also informed your work and university about what happened, both wishing you a full recovery and to take some time for yourself, thankful to have people understanding for a situation like this. Kyle stays for the final day, worrying over you. It’s funny, seeing him fussing about you reaching for something almost out of reach that he could easily grab for you. You obliged, letting him be a helpful hand to you, secretly savoring the attention he was showering you with. ‘Oh. That’s a new feeling.’ 

“Are you lonely? (Are you lonely?) Our fingers dancing when they meet You seem so lonely (are you lonely?) I'll be the only dream you seek So if you're lonely, no need to show me If you're lonely, come be lonely with me”

From the hospital room to the front door of your “flat”, Kyle was there for you. He even picked you up and carried you inside from the car, a squeak leaving you at his close proximity. Once inside, he laid you down gently on the couch. “You don’t have to do this much–” “Nonsense. Now, are you hungry? I could make you some soup, or anything you want. Well, if your stomach is still upset, maybe not anything…” He trailed off, looking at your flushed face, thinking it’s from queasiness. He gave a gentle smile, “I’ll go with something light then, yeah?” 

He makes soup, a simple broth with veggies and protein, serving yours with some crackers–sorry–water biscuits? You definitely won’t be using that term for them. You thank him for the meal, sitting beside each other on the sofa while the telly plays a documentary. “Kyle, can I ask you something?” You asked after a stretch of silence, him giving a hum, signifying yes. “Why are you doing this? I mean, I’m real appreciative of it, but you got other things to do, don’t you? I don’t wanna burden you,” You finished, looking off while fiddling with your hands, suddenly nervous at what his response will be.

“Lonely (are you lonely?) Passion is crashing as we speak You seem so lonely (are you lonely?) You're the ground my feet won't reach So if you're lonely, darling you're glowing If you're lonely, come be lonely with me”

Warmth envelopes your right hand. You whip your head around to see he’s holding your one hand with both of his. You meet his warm brown eyes, a serious look on his face. “Have you considered that I have let my responsibilities know, like you had, that I will be busy for the foreseeable future, helping my flat–roommate–out after a quite traumatic experience? You don’t need to be alone this time, love. I’ll take care of you, yeah? Would you let me do that for you?” He asked, gently squeezing your hand between his, a reassuring gesture. 

Red blooms across your face, now unable to meet his gaze. You stare at your interlocked hands. “I…I, I don’t know how to let you take care of me? Haven’t really let someone other than family do that before…” You mumbled out, feeling small, with a tinge of embarrassment at your lack of socialization. He moves one of his hands away, cupping your cheek, angling your face upwards to meet his eyes once again, saying your name. “Hey, it’s alright, look at me. I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I just want you to have the best recovery possible, to keep you safe, I…Care for you. When I got the alert for the fire, I didn’t know what to think. I called you as soon as I saw it, and when I heard you were still inside, I…Immediately drove here, hoping I could reach you before…” He took a deep breath before continuing, “I tried to talk you through everything, tried to be there for you as much as I could. I’m so glad you jumped out of that window. When I saw you on the ground, passed out, I was relieved, because then I knew I could take over, do what I do best. Didn’t wait for the bloody ambulance to show up, drove you to hospital myself.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, seeming bashful. 

“Kyle,” You start, tears prickled at your eyes. “I care for you, too. I don’t know exactly what you do with your job, but back at the hospital when you hinted at some of the situations you’d been in, I began to worry even more than I usually do. You say it’s what you do best but, could I take care of you, too? You know, once I’m better,” You giggled, “But, I want us to be there for each other, okay?” You finished, biting your lip. He grinned, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Alright, yeah. We’ll take care of each other.” He begins to pull away, your hand reaching out to mimic his earlier, cupping his cheek. He stops, before slowly leaning forward again, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. “This alright?” he whispered, lips hovering, barely grazing yours. “Yes, please.” He closes the distance, his hand moving up to hold the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. 

His other hand holds you at your waist, rubbing circles. That feeling from before coming back, you delve into it. You melt against him, sighing. You feel the smile that forms against your lips, before he pulls away, leaving a peck on your cheek. “Been wantin’ to do that for a while,” He admitted, grinning at your surprised expression. He grabs a blanket to put over the both of you, pulling you close to him. He buries his face into your hair, sighing. “Guess we can make up for lost time, yeah?” He asked, giving your hand another squeeze. “Let me do it right, take you on a proper date once you’re up for it, yeah?” You hum, nodding in agreement, beaming at him. His heart rate quickens, looking at your wonderful face whenever he would get home from deployment had to be his favorite pastime. “Alright, lovely.” 

You’ve been alone for the most part of your life, save your family. But with Kyle, everything feels so natural, so right. He makes you feel secure and warm. You trust he’ll take his promise seriously, keeping you out of harm’s way as much as he can. You’re so glad to have met him, not knowing that one conversation would lead to so many possibilities in your life. Eager to see what the future holds for you both, you leaned your head against his shoulder, his head soon resting against yours.

“Are you lonely? Passion is crashing as we speak You seem so lonely You're the ground my feet won't reach So if you're lonely Darling, you're glowing If you're lonely, come be lonely with me”

Tags: @sofasoap

#o fics #gazfest #gaz my beloved #gaz nation #gaz nation rise up #gaz x reader #gaz x you #gaz x gn!reader #kyle garrick x you #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x gn!reader #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #gaz mw2 #gaz garrick #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you

[hyuuukais]

.・゜-: ✧ :- FICTIONAL REALITY .・゜-: ✧ :-

pairing • bang chan x fem reader

synopsis • fiction or reality? y/n preferred the former, escaping into another world, escaping her problems. so what happens when reality takes that away from her; wiping her own story-in-progress off both her laptop and beloved usb? and what happens when she opens the door in the middle of a crisis to none other then the love interest of her novel... and he's holding her usb?

warnings • general, talk abt yn's past abusive relationship, idk exactly how to tag this but um like wires going into ppl

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER TEN • INTO THE DARK (1.8k)

Minho helps you feed the stray cat. It runs up to him, rubbing against his leg affectionately, ignoring you completely. Placing the dish down, you look around at the surrounding woods. You had to go a bit deeper into them than usual to find the cat, which tends to reside near the tree line. It was getting colder, and the lack of light in the woods wasn't helping.

"Here, take this." Minho takes his sweater off and hands it to you, leaving him in just a t-shirt. Goosebumps immediately grew over his arms. "You're shivering."

Shaking your head, you pick up the now empty food dish. "No, you're cold too. We'll be back soon anyway."

He stares at you, hand outstretched, but eventually gives up. "Suit yourself."

-

Back at the house, you turn the heat up before settling in the living room. Minho had gone to shower, leaving you alone in your thoughts.

Did the universe expect you to go back to your old apartment, or was Yeonjun supposed to be coming here? There was no way for either of you to contact each other and even if there was, you didn't know if you could. You'd been forcing yourself to feel okay about potentially seeing him again and everything that's been leading up to it, but honestly, you were far from okay. The visions had scared you. The feeling of his hands on you again, the look in his eyes, his words...

"You okay?" The sound of someone else speaking breaks you out of your trance, and you turn your head toward Minho. He's leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and head tilted forward with raised eyebrows covered slightly by his still wet hair.

...he looks really good.

"Yeah, just... thinking," you fake a small smile. "Have you had any of these visions? Or dreams?"

"No," he shakes his head.

"Oh."

Thinking about Chan and Jeongin, you wonder about this. Of course, Jeongin had only gotten anything because you asked him for it, but then he also already knew about Chan. What else was he not telling you? Maybe you should try to contact him, the warning about Mrs. Yang had frightened you.

Pushing off the wall, Minho takes a seat next to you, placing a hand on your knee. "You know you can talk to me."

"Can I?" Your voice breaks, embarrassing you. "A year can change so much. What if- what if we can't be what we used to be? I used to rely on you so much, but now I can barely look at your face without being reminded of everything that went down."

Taking in your words, Minho moves his hand off your knee and into your palm, interlocking your fingers. "Then we become something new. May I remind you I still don't know exactly what went down? That was all Yeji."

"She... never told you?"

"Nope," he sighs heavily. "Never thought I'd admit this, but I practically begged her to tell me what happened to you and where you were. All I knew was that Yeonjun was furious, although he didn't show it outright. He stuck to playing the part of the worried-sick-fiance." Minho scowls, using a mocking tone. "'My poor Y/n, wherever could she be! By the way, this totally wasn't my fault, I couldn't even hurt a fly much less my beautiful soon-to-be wife!'"

You giggle a bit at his impression and he smiles, watching your face light up. Making you laugh felt like a reward.

"He was so full of shit. I don't get why you stayed with him."

Just like that, your laughter stops.

"Haven't we been over this?" You steal your hand back, using it to rub your forehead.

"I just don't understand-"

"Yeah, and you probably never fucking will!" You sit up, legs swinging off the couch out of frustration. "If I broke up with him, we wouldn't be having this conversation. If I broke up with him, you wouldn't have been attending my wedding, you would have attended my funeral."

The words linger in between you, stinging Minho like a slap to the face. Of course he knew the relationship was toxic, but never did he think it would have come to that. If he did, he'd be behind bars right now. Fuck the USB, fuck Chan, fuck the universe. He's never letting you anywhere near Yeonjun again. As long as you're safe, who cares what it costs? The world could be burning to an ash and all Minho would want to do was get you off planet Earth, even if he couldn't come with.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," he says finally, slowly, carefully.

"Nobody did," you look away from him, down at the floor. There are miles and miles between you then and you now, the person he knew and what she was willing to say. "Except Yeji."

Yeji.

"Min, I wanna try something. Get off the couch." You start stretching out before he can respond, reaching over to grab your long forgotten headphones off the coffee table.

"What's your idea?" He takes a seat in the chair beside you.

"So when Jeongin went into that little psychic trance of his, he closed his eyes I'm guessing to help him envision his surroundings and focus better-" You adjust yourself better, sitting the headphones above your ears. "-obviously I'm not him and don't have the same abilities, but what if I try to remember the place it took me to? The headphones aren't necessary, but they're noise cancelling so I thought it might help."

Minho looks like he wants to protest, but holds back any thoughts.

"If I get into enough of a relaxed state," you continue when he says nothing. "Maybe I'll find it. It might be the only way to save Chan." You take a deep breath. "And Yeji."

"You really think Yeji is a part of this too?"

"Well it had her there and could mimic her voice, so yeah." You roll your eyes.

Leaning back in the chair, Minho rolls his eyes even more dramatically at you. "It could just be able to do that."

"There's only one way to find out."

And with that, you put on the headphones.

Immediately the world around you is muffled, no longer able to hear Minho shifting in the chair or the wind whistling through the old bones of the house. Outside, the sun has already begun to come down, soon it will be dark. With your eyes closed and hearing limited, your other senses come in stronger. You can smell your shampoo wafting off Minho, feel the bumps form on your skin as the chill sets in.

Still too early to turn on the heat, you think.

Trying to clear your mind, you focus on your breathing. In, out. In, out. In, out. Breaths become deeper, heartrate slowing. At one point, your mind wanders to thoughts of Chan. What's he doing right now? Is he alright? Why hasn't he texted you? When will you get the opportunity to correct your missed kiss-

Hey brain, you think, focus on the mission, you already know you're not emotionally available enough for someone like him, so stop it.

Back to your breathing.

Enough time passes to have you considering this isn't going to work. Why did you think it would in the first place? You said it yourself, you don't have 'abilities' like Jeongin does. Never have, never will. And besides, even if it did work, what would you do? You can't force this thing to give you information; it has the upper hand and knows it does.

"Okay, screw this," you open your eyes, but all you see is black.

It worked. But now what?

"Hello?" You call out, voice echoing. "Um, anyone home?"

Not that this place felt very... homey.

You begin to walk, eyes adjusting. Looking down, you realize you're walking in water just like Jeongin mentioned, but it just barely covers your toes. Reaching to the right, your hand finds a wall close to you. The left side is the same; you're in some kind of corridor. Walking further, your left hand grazes a dip in the wall; no, a door. You squint, noticing a few more doors on either side further down before they're consumed again by the darkness.

Wrapping your cold fingers around the knob, you push. The door is stiff and hard to open, taking a few full-body pushes before you can squeeze inside. Air races past, through your hair and the door. Inside, the walls curve to a circle, a very dim white light coming up from the edges of the water. In the middle, you spot what looks like a dentist's chair turned away from you. The top of someone's head pokes out the top, wires hanging down from the ceiling- or lack thereof, when you look up, it never seems to end- and down to their body.

Slowly, you approach the chair, gasping when you see who it is.

"Oh, Chan," you whisper, tears brimming. There are deep circles under his eyes, and the wires appear to go into his neck harshly, all red and swollen around where they enter. His lips are chapped, skin nearing translucent.

Touching his skin, it's colder than your fingers and a bit rough. His mouth is parted ever so slightly, breathing shallowly. He's dressed in all white; a t-shirt tucked into smooth pants. It's weird seeing him like this.

But you know you can't stay. This isn't why you're here.

Moving on from Chan's room, you open each door as you go, starting with the one directly across from his. You barely recognize the girl in the chair as you've only met on a few occasions; Lily.

In the next few rooms, you find a mix of people you do and don't recognize, Jeongin and Yeji being some of them. Resisting the urge to stay by their sides is difficult, you need to keep going, find the thing keeping them all here. Finally, you reach the end, the last door.

The door stretches its way into the never-ending ceiling, the knob particularly stubborn. This room is bigger than the others have been, and you spot two chairs facing each other in the dim lighting. Inside are you and your ex, Yeonjun.

"What the actual fuck," you breathe, trying to control the rising panic in your throat.

Just like the others, you both have wires connecting into your necks and look physically unwell. The only difference is that you're together, and there's another line stuck into your forearms, connecting you.

You start to have the feeling you need to leave. Now.

And that's when you hear it; distant whispering growing louder and louder, chanting the same sentence over and over again.

"You're not supposed to be in here."

●

notes • i honestly didn't think i'd get this done today but had a sudden burst of writing energy!! things are getting funky for sure hehehehe

taglist • @yongbbokkie @chaeryred @tenebrisirae @toplinelix @chansdoll @amaranth-writing @3rachachoo @linosjureumi @thebrownemo @tfshouldidohere @channie-143 @frogieeheart @kangaracharacha @skzswife

TAGLIST CLOSED ^^^blue means i can't tag you

#.・゜-: ✧ :- FICTIONAL REALITY .・゜-: ✧ :- #skz #stray kids #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x fem reader #non idol au #skz au #stray kids au #skz x reader #bang chan fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader

[f10werfae]

Blinded by Lust

Pairing: Chris Evans x Blind!Reader

Warnings: Cheating (on Chris' part), car accident

summary: Y/n feels it’s her fault her own boyfriend looks for an outlet elsewhere ‼️Major Angst‼️

(Sorry I hate writing angst, esp cheating it hurts😭)

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Full Masterlist💫

Chris Evans Masterlist🌟

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︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(Y/n's P.O.V)

Chris was out with his friends tonight, leaving me to try and finish up the housework. After that car accident from a few months ago, I had lost vision in my left eye, and my left leg was still adjusting back to normal. I’m glad Chris was able to get out of the house after all the press he had been doing, things had been tense since he gotten home so i’m happy he’s enjoying himself out there.

Hearing the door slam shut, I limped over to the top of the staircase awaiting to see my boyfriend of 4 years. Only to see he wasn’t alone, nor was he in the right state of mind, neither of them were.

“O-oh” Is all I could make out of my mouth, watching as his hands dragged all over the random woman’s body, their mouths in a dirty battle.

Who could blame him though? I was half blind, couldn’t walk properly and as a result neglected his needs. Swallowing thickly I decided to just leave back to the guest room I was cleaning in, the sobs coming out once I closed door.

Hearing them stumble on the stairs into our shared bedroom I heard him complimenting her with shit like “sexy” calling her the names he used ro call me.

Within minutes I heard the headboard banging against the wall, the sounds of their echoed moans bouncing between the walls, my sobs now stifling to sniffles.

I felt numb. Unloved. Worthless. Helpless.

“God I missed this, you feel so fucking good” O heard him shout all of a sudden, before silence ensued. Minutes went by, until the woman said something,

“That’ll be 200 dollars baby” Her sultry voice said, her heels clicking out in the hallway, the whole situation felt like it had lasted seconds when it reality was about an hour or two. Absolute hell.

“U-uh alright, can we uh, keep this secret” I heard him by the door, his voice now sounding worried.

“Mhm customer confidentiality”

Seconds went by, the front door had opened and closed, Chris now heading back into the bedroom clearly still drunk as I heard things being knocked over.

*Brrr*

My phone started ringing loudly on the guest room table, sitting weakly on the floor I felt numbness overcome my whole body. Hearing hid heavy footfalls approaching the room and pushing the door open; my arms going around to hug myself for support.

“B-babe”

“You don’t get to call me that Chris” He winced, his name coming out harshly, my sadness now turning into complete anger.

“Did you hear all that?”

“Did I fucking hear all that? I fucking saw the start of it too. Seems like you were enjoyin yourself enough anyway, good for you Chris”

I snarked back, trying to stand up when he came over to try and help me up before I pushed him off.

“Don’t touch me”

“It was a mistake, I was drunk and i’m still drunk”

“Well your mistake is fucking shitty, I hope the quick fuck was worth it” Grabbing my phone from the table I attempted to leave the room, his towering stature blocking my way out and holding me by the arms.

“Don’t do this babe, I-I really didn’t mean it. I regretted it straight after I swear. I love you, only you”

“Not enough to keep your dick in your pants clearly” I whispered, my throat closing up again, stopping myself from looking up at him. “I hate that I did this to you, hit me, scream at me, do something”

“No. I’m better than that. Better than you, I don’t need revenge to feel better”

“S-so what’s your plan”

“What any conscious person would do, I’m leaving”

“Wait no, can’t we work past this or something?”

“No we’re clearly not as compatible as we thought we were Chris. This is it over. I can’t bear it. It’s not fair on you or me” Walking successfully past him, I took off the promise ring he had given me and put it into the palm of his hand, he didn’t even try to stop me leaving.

——

Taglist Tags (Form for taglist is up there ^^) : @pandaxnienke @patzammit @seren-a-ity @thereisa8ella @mrspeacem1nusone

#romance #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans oneshot

[fieldofdaisiies]

Ithan x Reader | Rude Boy

type: angst, suggestive warning(s): cursing, nightclub, alcohol consumption, vulgar wording word count: 2.6k words request: Omg omg since ur writing for ithan holstrom i was wondering if you would write like a second chance fic with like a lot of angst and like them being broken up, she's tryna get over him, and he is possessive so she dirty dances with any of the other guys like flynn or tharion and he's just like get the fuck off my girl like huh?

- all rights reserved -

“And what does that mean now?” “That I cannot stand it anymore,” Ithan growls, his jaw tense, his expression so very angry. 

“So you are breaking up with me?”

“Yes, I am.” Ithan shudders when he turns away from you, only to turn back at you, glowering. “You never have time for him. Everything else is more important than me. Your studies, your friends, your work, even your guy best friends.”

You don’t have guy best friends. The most you have are Danaan and Flynn as your friends but you only met them through Lidia and only befriended them through her and through your relationship with Ithan. But they are not your guy best friends, they are friends and that is it. You also only ever spend time with them when all of your are together.

“That is not true,” you say, your voice quivering. Your feel your lower lip tremble, your lashes dampening. “I was just busy this last week.” “And the week before. And before that as well.” Ithan pauses, his chest heaving with deep inhales. “If you no longer wanted to spend time with me, you should have just said so.”

“That is not true.”

It was the last conversation you had with Ithan, packing your things on that day and leaving his place. Crying you return to your own apartment, the one you share with Lidia Cervos. She is sitting on the living room couch, her legs thrown over Ruhn’s lap, both of them laughing loudly. Your heart cracks open once again, a sob parting your lips.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you breath out, dashing through the corridor, back to your room, nearly stumbling over your own feet and the bags filled with things you had at Ithan’s place. Slamming the door shut behind you, you fall face forward into the bed, letting your tears run free, your weeps muffled by the pillow that slowly gets wet from your tears. A door falls close somewhere in the flat and you assume Lidia and Ruhn have gone to her room. But you thought wrong, as a soft knock sounds at your door a moment later and soon the door is opened.

“Y/N?” Lidia’s voice fills the room and your hear her walk in. You lift your head, your blurry vision hindering you from seeing the expression of her face. But you have a feeling it is pained. You and Lidia have gotten extremely close over the past years, you have helped her a lot to get out of the relationship with Pollux, offered her a place to stay and protected her, kept her safe when he showed up here. Her heart breaks when another sob slips through your lips and she hurdles over to you, sitting down the bed and cradles your face in her hands. “Oh baby, what has happened?”

Lidia swings her legs onto the bed, leaning against the headboard, her hands not leaving your face.

“Ithan and I…” A cry cuts your off and you bring your hand up, wiping the back of it over your face, under your nose. “We broke up,” you bubble, shaking your head. 

Lidia looks shocked, her eyes going wide, her lips parting. She has always pointed out what a beautiful couple you are, how perfectly you fit. She has been the one to get the two of you together, having loved the thought of one of her best friends dating one of her boyfriend’s friends. And you have been a beautiful couple, but apperently Ithan decided to throw it all away because of his jealousy or whatever. Maybe he had his reasons, but he did not tell you them.

“Why?” Lidia asks carefully, lying down on the bed next to you. You shift a little, cuddling up to her, your head in the crook of her neck, her arm around you, hand softly stroking your back. 

“I don’t know,” you breathe, tasting the salty tears in your mouth. “He said I did not spend enough time with him. That I rather spend time with everyone else but him.”

Lidia huffs loudly and gives her head a little shake — as good as it possible why lying. “That is bullshit, you have been at his place every weekend.”

“That was not enough I think.” You brush your face over her shoulder, feeling a little guilty as there is already a damp spot on her shirt. “You think he really does not laugh me anymore?”

Lidia turns her head a little. “I think he still loves you a lot. He loved you so much before, he would not just stop loving you. I think he might have different reasons.”

And he had, but you only find out about them later, for now your are bathing in your pain, the ache in your chest only getting more rather than vanishing. 

Lidia stays with you that night, holding you in her embrace the whole night and letting you sob until you have no tears left to cry. 

You wake up in the morning with red puffy eyes, your face swollen and your throat dry. Lidia and you have breakfast together, and later you make yourself a girls day, filled with face masks, and nail care and movies. She tells you that she sent Ruhn away last night, telling him that you were her priority then and he understood. He understood. He understood other than Ithan, that there sometimes are other priorities but that she still loved him the same way. 

It is a week after your breakup when Lidia is once again in your room, rummaging around in your closet. “That one?” She tosses a bright red and way too short dress at you and you huff a no.

“Well then that one?” Now a black dress comes flying at you and Lidia throws you a warning look when she leans backwards and looks at you around the door of your closet. 

You pick the dress up and look at it, it has low cut outs and some transparent pieces. You pull one shoulder up, shrugging a little. “I am not sure.” You are not sure for more than one reason. You don’t feel yourself so much after the breakup with Ithan, you don’t know if you will feel comfortable and secondly, it was Ithan's favourite dress on you. Would this just rip open the wounds again? You aren’t sure, but when you meet Lidia’s pleading eyes you say yes. It is Ruhn’s birthday party — he is celebrating at a club and you really did not want to go but Lidia was persistent, saying you need to get out again, mingle a little and really need the distraction. So you agreed. She also said she would really like to have you there, not yet having fully connected with Bryce and would love to have her best friend with her. So you agreed not wanting her to be alone, but in the back of your mind regret takes root. You know Ithan will be there as well. Ruhn was his friend, he was definitely invited. 

A cab drops you off at the venue, a long lineup of club goers already waiting to get inside. But Lidia takes your hand, pulling you past those people, past the people smoking outside the club, until you come to a halt in front of the door and a big Hulk-like male that gives the two of you a once over. 

“We are on the guest list for Ruhn Danaan,” Lidia says casually. The man checks but still asks to see your IDs. He checks them as well and lets you pass with the wave of his hand. 

You heart is thrumming in your chest when you follow Lidia through the crowd of dancing people, strobe lights flash from above and all around you, otherwise the club would be completely dim. 

“He is here!” you shout to your best friend over the loud music, pointing forward, your heart now beating in your throat. 

“I know, I am sorry, Y/N,” Lidia says, squeezing your hand tightly while pulling you with her. Seeing Ithan would anyway be inevitable, but still your stomach churns as you have no idea how to approach him. Would you two speak?

Ithan’s eyes, full of pain and an emotion you cannot quite place, land on you the moment you get up the VIP area and Lidia greets her boyfriend with a passionate kiss. YOu obviously follow, wishing him all the best for his birthday before greeting the others. 

Ithan watches you with a stoic expression when you wave your hand at him. He does not greet you, just looks at you and your heart cracks open. It is like he is blaming you. Like you made a mistake while he was the one to break up with you. Tipping his glass to his lips he downs it in one gulp. 

You are getting angry, your gaze holding his until arms wrap around your waist from behind you.

Tristan’s head appears next you and he beams. “Hello, beautiful. Haven't see you in a while, how are you?”

“Fine,” you mumbled, trying to turn in his hold or rather leave his embrace. But then—

“You want to dance?”

“I was just about to offer you a drink,” —Tristan holds up two glasses—- “but dancing sounds like fun.”

“Drinking as well. Thank you!” You take the glass from his hands, clink his with it and then down it in one. He does the same. 

If Ithan thinks that you spend too much time with the other boys, which was bullshit, you would show him how much you love spending time with them. It was super silly and on the edge of childish, but he had no right to be pissed right then, he was the one who broke up with you. 

You follow Tristan who is holding you hand onto the dance floor, he turns you to him, grinning brightly. "I assume we are trying to make wolf-boy jealous?”

“He is already jealous,” you groan, moving your hands up chest his chest, feeling his strong muscles underneath the shirt while his own hands find their place on your waist. 

“Yeah, but I think we are just adding oil to the fire.” A wicked glint appears in Tristan’s, his hands just moving his hands a little lower. “He has been miserable the past week,” Tristan shouts, leaning in, his lips brushing your ear.

“He broke up with me, you remember?” You tip your head to the side, eyes widening.

“I know, but you know why?” “Because apperently I have neglected him,” you grumble.

“Hmm.” You shake your head. 

He takes one hand of yours into his, swirling you away from him. Your hair shifts over your shoulder and lifts. Irritation coats your insides, but still you force a grin to your lips. Wanting Ithan to hurt just like you did — although you actually don't it. You don’t really know what you want. (imagine rude boy by Rihanna playing)

Flynn pulls you back to him while you sing a long to the text. Through the crowd you directly meet Ithan’s gaze, he has already been looking at you —glowering. Anger is etched into his features, his eyes like burning coals. 

Come here rude boy, boy

Is you big enough?

Tristan turns you a little, pulling you closer to him, his hands come to rest on your waist. You move your hands up, your butt grinding a little against his front. You continue singing, your eyes are closed. 

Come here rude boy, boy

Can you get it up?

But when you open your eyes again, you don’t see Ithan anymore. Has he left? Have you taken it too far?

You clamp down on the regret that bubbles up inside of you and turn back to Tristan, hands sliding up to his neck. 

“He has left,” you say matter-of-factly. Tristan parts his lips but right when he wants to say something, you feel another pair of hands on your hips.

“Fuck off, Flynn, get away from my girl!” Ithan growls behind you and you are pulled back towards his hard chest. You startle, fuming. “I am no longer your girl, Ithan!” you growl out when your head whips to him.

It looks like all life whooshes out of him, his eyes widen, his lower lip trembling. “We need to talk,”he shouts over the music, but you shake your head.

“Don’t tell me what I have to do!”

Ithan turns you in his hold, eyes full of pain when they catch your gaze. “Please, let us talk.”

Slowly you find yourself nodding, hurt radiating from every fiber of his body. “Okay,” you said and lean upwards a little, his scent of cologne, of wood and nature filling your nostrils. 

Ithan lets you lead, you guiding the two of you through the crowd of people until your are outside where people are lingering on the fringes, smoking. 

You try to find a place that is not so full of people and so you stop right next to the wall of the building, leaning against it and crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Now?” You raise a brow.

“Forgive me please,” Ithan says, his voice quivering and hoarse. He braces his hands on the wall beside you, leaning closer. 

“All of a sudden? Did it really need Tristan and me dancing that you realise you made a mistake?” Ithan’s throat works on a swallow, will fury blazes through your veins. You glare at him, feeling tears burn behind your eyes. 

“No,” Ithan bites out, his hand forming a fist and he punches the wall a little. “Please, forgive me. I have been such an idiot. It all got too much. The weekend I broke up with you was the anniversary of Connor’s death. I just couldn’t handle my emotions. And then you went out with Lidia instead of me and helped Ruhn choose a birthday cake and I just once again felt like everyone I love is leaving me.”

A tears runs out of Ithan’s eye and your heart shatters. You place your hands on his shoulders, squeezing them. “Oh Ithan,” you breathe. Ithan’s mask slowly cracks open further, his lips quivering, his hands trembling. “You should have told me,” you say in a low voice, your own eyes watering.

“I tried to. But I thought you no longer loved me and I would just break up so you are not leaving me. It was stupid and selfish.”

“You are right it was stupid, but not selfish. You wanted to break you heart, Ithan. Oh gods!” You pull on his shoulders, bringing him closer to you, before curling your arms around his neck. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about the anniversary of Connor’s death.”

Ithan exhales loudly into the crook of your neck, his tears falling to your skin. “I did not want you to see me so weak.”

“Ithan you are my boyfriend, I want to see all of you. You are not weak if you mourn your brother’s death.” 

He pulls back a little, staring at you with big, pain-filled eyes. Another tears slips out of the corner and you quickly brush your thumb over it. “You boyfriend?” he whispers, the corner of his mouth tipping upwards. “So I am forgiven.”

“You shattered my heart into pieces, there is a lot more you have to do to make up for it, but yes, you are a little tiny bit forgiven.”

“I can promise some making up tonight. You are coming back home with me, yes?”

You smile at him. “Yes, but only if you promise that we talk about things from now on. Everything. I want you to share with me what you are feeling, what you are going through. I want you to talk to me about Connor. I don’t want you have to deal with that all alone.”

Ithan inclines his head and then leans in to kiss your forehead. “I promise I will!”

~~~~~~~~~~

tags: @headcanonheadcase @azrielsbabyg @randomness-it-is  @brekkershadowsinger 

#ithan x reader #ithan holstrom x reader #ithan holstrom #crescent city x reader #crescent city

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-OUR FOUNDER-

⚙ THE CHAIRMAN ⚙ OF COGS INCORPORATED EST. 2003 ---------------------------------

So I've never talked about this on here before, but Toontown was one of my absolute FAVORITE games as a kid (despite never having membership so being locked out of 99% of the actual game jlkjfsakj) Like it was absolutely formative for me, I drew the cogs a bajillion times and they inspired a ton of my own stuff later on (and still absolutely do) Then the game closed and Rewritten came out so I could actually play the whole game for the first time (haven't gotten anywhere close to getting to the end though) To this day I have an on again off again interest where once or twice a year I'll suddenly get absolutely smitten with it again haha

So, if you're also into Toontown, you'll obviously be familiar with the mysterious, unseen overarching villain The Chairman This is my own take on his design that I came up with a few years back ^^

We don't have much to go off of from the original game for what the Chairman might've been like, so I had a couple of different inspirations

Obviously the giant head in the Sellbot Factory, since those old Chairman pics with that head pasted onto a cog body were absolutely what I was most exposed to as a kid, but it's also not a 1:1 lift

In some of my earliest sketches trying to come up with the ideal design I tried making him look like he had the giant robot from the old installer video underneath his suit, so he had like lanky, cartoonish proportions, toonier hands, etc It looked really bad though and I couldn't do what I wanted with the head since it would've had to fit over the shorter, wider robot head, so I just ended up scrapping it (i do take some inspiration from the video for my vision of Toontown's story, but i've just scrapped the robot entirely) Oh I also gave him the eyes from the Field Office since I thought that could be neat, but it looked out of place so I simplified them to what he has now (they're still stylistically similar to the eyes on regular cog buildings, so i don't think i'm really losing any of the meaning behind them at least)

By far the biggest inspiration was when the FY11 plans got released

Holy FUDGE did this blow my mind when I saw it for the first time All those years as a kid of the Chairman not even being ACKNOWLEDGED except by the CEO's final words and a couple odd references in obscure magazines and whatever Desperately speculating and grasping onto all those tiny pieces of some mysterious, horrifically evil entity behind everything And then this??? This awesome, ominous silhouette?? Plans for something huge??? Seeing it is what drove me to go and draw him in the first place, it still gives me chills just looking at it

So yeah, I wanted mine to have that same aura of cold evil, that striking silhouette, while also having a bit more character to him Like most cogs are frozen in the same screwed up scowl, where there's not much room for expression If I could, like, make an actual model for him, I'd want him to have the same sort of capacity for different expressions as the toons have (even some you wouldn't expect from the head of the cogs)

He's ruthless, calculating, doing everything he can to maximize the profits and efficiency of Cogs Inc and expand their operations to the entirety of Toontown, with no regard for ethical business practices or the wishes of the people he plans to subjugate (But does it work? Is he happy?)

I'm absolutely gonna do an analysis of the cogs as a whole at some point (as long as my interest doesn't plummet for a little while longer), there's a ton of stuff I wanna get into about my interpretation of them as villains because oh my god I love them so much

OTHER STUFF - He's not as massive as the other boss cogs, but he's still absolutely huge (iirc the highest level cogs are all canonically like 8ft?? and he's got a LOT of height on them) - He's drinking oil in the pencil drawing - I happened to watch this video where one guy talked about the way the villain in Tarzan held a glass of wine and how it left a huge impression on him, so I just arbitrarily decided to emulate it in my drawing XD - Oh yeah a big reason for the main drawing in the post was that I really felt like I was getting too attached to a single style in my digital stuff (literally just using the same default pen tool for everything, never changing the size), so I wanted to force myself to try something new - I drew the frame myself, just kinda winged it so it's. not as good as it could be but it works fine I think

#toontown #cogs #the chairman #emilyart #emilyramblings #uhh so this is a pretty big departure from my usual MOTHER stuff #hope it's not too offputting #i've got a really cute porky thing i've been working on but i'm struggling with one of the poses >< #will be done soon hopefully #oh yeah so i've played a lot of rewritten which is definitely my favorite toontown thing #captures the old feel that i love while wayyy surpassing the original #and they really nailed the new cog designs they revealed a while ago office clerk my beloved #AND THAT CHAIRMAN TEASER FROM THE FIELD OFFICE UPDATE OFJOEIWJK #i love what clash brings to the table and how much it's gone above and beyond to create a whole new experience but it's not really my thing #totally different chairman interpretation from what i'm used to but man he's hilarious #i'll dig up some of my original sketches for the chairman at some point it'd be fun to see that process

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #45: Names

Masterlist

content: vampire whumper, mind control, conditioning, psychological torture, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper, electrocution

technically this takes place during kane’s captivity arc, but i’m putting it with the intermission stuff in the masterlist anyway for consistency, despite it taking place after some of the kane captivity chapters.

-

Graham’s hands coiled tightly in the fabric of his pants as Master fed. After years of this, the feeding itself hardly caused him much anxiety anymore, even when Master made it hurt more on purpose. He was used to this, it was routine, it was almost safe.

No, what had Graham’s entire body tense was what happened after.

The new habit Master had gotten into, the new ‘fun’ way to torment him. Master didn’t usually hurt him every day aside from feeding- he was a busy man, with more important things to do, a fact Graham never stopped being thankful for. But for the past month, he had been, every single day.

My name is Chewtoy, he reminded himself.

Master ripped his fangs out and licked the wounds on his neck closed. “Good boy. You think you’ll get it right today?”

My name is Chewtoy.

“I can’t, Master.” Graham said miserably, his voice small. He knew it was hopeless, and he knew Master knew it, too. He just had to keep enduring it until Master got bored.

The tension bled out of him all at once as he suddenly relaxed. All the fear, stress, and anxiety gone, replaced with a blank nothing. He couldn’t think. His thoughts were cloudy, the only thing that mattered was listening to and obeying-

“What’s your name?”

Oh good, he knew this. Easy question. “My name is Graham Mallory, Master.”

As quick as it came, Master’s control melted away as Graham regained control over his mind, the terror slamming back into him at full force. It was never more than a few seconds. Master didn’t want him getting boring.

Master tutted. “Wrong again, chewtoy.”

“I’m sorry!” He wasn’t sorry. It was a stupid game. “I can’t lie when I’m under persuasion, I can’t! It’s impossible!”

“It’s not a lie. It’s your name, the one I gave to you. Aren’t you grateful?” Master smirked, patting Graham’s head.

“Yes, M-master.” he answered dully, tremors running through him at the anticipation of his punishment. At least it would be quick. But god, it hurt every single time. It didn’t get easier.

Master turned into a blur as he stepped outside Graham’s small field of vision to grab the cattle prod. Because you’re livestock!, he’d gleefully explained the first time he’d used it. Except that cattle prods were designed for cattle, and didn’t hurt them very much, and humans are not cattle, and thus have much thinner skin.

“Eyes closed.”

“Yes, Master.” Graham squeezed his eyes closed. He never knew where to expect it. Just when he’d started thinking about it as it’s different every time, Master shocked him in the back of the knee two days in a row. Nowhere was safe.

Graham yelped as the prod hit just below his throat, electricity arcing through his body, making every muscle seize. He collapsed to the ground, his shout morphing into a pained sob.

“Don’t be a pussy. It was just a second.” Master admonished. Graham opened his eyes, unable to read his face from where he lied on the floor, but the white of his fangs was a telltale sign of his grin. “Maybe next time you’ll get it right.”

Graham banged his head against the wall in frustration at the click of the door locking. How was he supposed to do this? Was it just going to be like this every day for the rest of his life? Master didn’t seem to be getting bored of the prod anytime soon. And even if he did, he might just move to a different punishment. Maybe even a worse one.

He used his right hand to position the fingers of his left closed into a fist, watching them release as he let go. He could hardly feel them anymore, aside from a dull ache. He certainly couldn’t move them. That was better than when it used to hurt all the time, at least.

“My name is Chewtoy.” Graham mumbled to himself, starting the mantra up again. “My name is Chewtoy. My name is Chewtoy. My name is Chewtoy. My name is Chewtoy. My name is Chewtoy.”

At least Master might leave him alone for the rest of the night. Graham continued mumbling his mantra to himself, hoping it would eventually sink in, as he scratched another mark into the wood below his bed. It took a good half-hour to get it really into the nice wood flooring, but he didn’t have much else to do. At least the days were easy to count, since Master needed to eat every night. Three years, four months, eighteen days. “My name is Chewtoy. My name is Chewtoy.”

Graham continued mumbling as he made himself dinner. It was the first meal of the night, but he refused to call something he ate at what he estimated to be 6 o’clock in the evening anything but dinner. The others didn’t have names. Meal two and meal three. At least he could control this part. His little routines, the same every night.

Master didn’t come back later, giving him a night to himself. When he went to bed that morning, My name is Chewtoy sounded off in his head like counting sheep until he could lull himself into unconsciousness.

-

Graham woke up drowsily, unwilling to draw himself from the safety of sleep, but he had to be ready for Master. He swung his legs out of bed with a groan.

My name is Chewtoy.

He brushed his teeth and took a shower. It was always a pain standing up continuously after the shock of the cattle prod. It made Graham’s legs feel like jelly after the seizing. That was why scratching the tally in was the perfect first activity afterward, he could just lie on the floor.

My name is Chewtoy.

He drank some water. It was best to do that before having his blood sucked, Graham knew. It would probably be better to eat first too, but he could never choke anything down. It was easier to do it after, after Master had already come and gone and the worst part was over.

My name is Chewtoy.

Graham got dressed, his good hand shaking with nervousness as he pulled his shirt over his head. He wished Master would use persuasion on him for longer. It was nice to not have to be scared and anxious for just a little. Chewtoy wished he’d been taken by any other vampire- at least then, he could just be a mindless husk.

My name is Chewtoy.

Master came in shortly, ready for his meal. “Good evening, Master.” Chewtoy craned his head to the side to expose his neck while Master fed, unable to swallow the lump in his throat.

It’ll be better after he’s gone, after the shock’s already happened. My name is Chewtoy. Hopefully he doesn’t take me out to play with tonight. My name is Chewtoy.

Master clapped him on the back, hard enough to elicit an oof. “Alright, you ready for the big question?”

“Yes, Master.” Chewtoy tried to hold back tears. He hated the cattle prod.

All his turbulent emotions melted away again as Master’s control took hold, floating in a sea of nothing with only one important thing: Master’s orders.

“What’s your name?”

“My name is Chewtoy, Master.” he answered easily.

Chewtoy couldn’t believe it when his thoughts returned and he could process what he’d just said. He’d done it, he’d actually done it.

“Holy shit, I didn’t think it would actually work!” Master laughed, delighted. “Haha, that’s awesome.”

“That means n-no prod?” Chewtoy asked hopefully.

“Eh, I’ll figure out another use for it eventually.” Master petted his hair. “Ha, this brings mind control to another level. I’ve gotta tell the guys about this.”

Master left him alone, the door locking behind him. No prod.

Chewtoy pounded a fist into the air and flopped back onto his bed. He’d actually done it. He’d said his name was fucking Chewtoy instead of-

No, he can’t think it. Too risky. It wasn’t important, it was just a name. That was the name that got him hurt. Chewtoy was the name that kept him safe.

As he scratched day nineteen into the floorboard, Chewtoy wondered what else he could do with his newfound ability. It was dangerous that Master could invade his mind at any moment. He could take any information out of there. There’d been nothing he could do about it before, but now he could. He could change anything he wanted if he tried hard enough.

“My parents’ address is...”

-

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#kane and jim #whump #my writing #vampire whumper #mind control #psychological whump #conditioning #creepy whumper #sadistic whumper #electrocution #whump writing

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Day 5: Hostage / Kidnapping / Held at gunpoint

Characters: Truman Zanotto, Caligosto Loboto

Warnings: None

Summary: It's not the first time Truman's been in a dangerous situation, but it might be the first time he's unable to get himself out of one.

---~~~---

The first thing he became aware of was a foggy headache--the kind that made one feel like they should just go back to bed, or else wake up with a strong cup of coffee. The former sounded more appealing right now, so he tried to turn over to make himself more comfortable.

Only to find that he couldn't.

He also definitely wasn't under any sort of covers, nor was he lying on a bed.

Opening his eyes with a gasp, Truman's gaze darted around, trying to determine his surroundings. Before he could even figure out where he was, he tried to reach out a telepathic message to Lili to see if she was all right. Their mental connection wasn't always perfect, however--Lili often deliberately shut it off--and he half-expected the attempt to fail.

He did not, however, expect the sudden spike of nausea and dizziness at attempting telepathy, and groaned.

"Well, now! The patient awakes!" came an unfamiliar, ashy voice from directly behind his head. "You're a bit early for that..."

Truman craned his neck back to try to get a look at his abductor. His vision was fuzzy, and annoyingly there were two very bright lights directly behind him, one red and one green. It wasn't until those lights suddenly moved to shine directly over him that he realized that they weren't just lights--they were directly attached to the face of a person. Over his eyes, specifically--or, perhaps, they were his eyes. The man had blue skin, multiple facial scars, and an impossibly wide smile filled with yellow teeth. A bright green shower cap with floral patterns adorned his head.

While Truman knew he needed to be gathering any information he could possibly get out of this place, his immediate reaction was to recoil in horror. "Get away from me!"

"Pbbbt!" The man stuck his tongue out, inadvertently spitting in Truman's face. "That's no way to talk to your dentist!"

"Dentist?" He struggled to think past the fog in his head. Why did dentist sound familiar? And the silhouette of this man--he swore he'd seen it before, perhaps somewhere in the Psychonauts' files... Regardless, he shook his head, casting a look around the room. Focus, focus--he'd gotten out of worse before. He just had to gather some information. "Where am I?"

"My office!" the dentist said, stepping back and gesturing to the space around them with his prosthetic arm. "Amazing, isn't it?"

Truman blinked a few times to clear his vision, finally taking in the sight of the space around them--an observatory of some sort with a domed ceiling overhead, a large metal sphere suspended from the ceiling, and multiple people wearing hazmat suits wandering around. There was also something oddly familiar about this place, but he couldn't put a finger on it. "Strange place for an office," he remarked.

"Well, it's not like my old office, but it's a lot more spacious." The man twirled, tipping his head back as though to regard the space. He wore a long brown apron with a complicated bunch of straps in the back, and a long white coat beneath that. "Gets the job done, and has a lot of fascinating things to study out here!"

Something clicked in Truman's mind, and he leaned forward as much as his bonds allowed, not needing to feign his interest. "What sort of things do you study?"

The dentist hummed, turning his back. "Oh, some fascinating marine life, and some very fancy rocks..."

Right--psitanium or psilirium. Probably the latter, given the way it was blocking his powers and making him feel dizzy. Marine life, though... He ran through a few things in his mind, mentally going over a list of locations.

Tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap.

Jolting out of his thoughts, Truman found his kidnapper suddenly leaning over him again, tapping his fingers--no, claws--against the arm of his chair.

"You're awfully quiet for someone who was, hm, taken far away from his home," the dentist remarked, his smile twitching and looking just a touch angrier.

Truman gave a nervous laugh. "Ah, I'm just thinking! Someone brilliant enough to be able to kidnap the Grand Head of the Psychonauts must be a talented individual! And you look quite... familiar."

A metallic shriek made him grit his teeth as the dentist's claws seized the arm of the chair, digging into it. "Come again?"

"I know you--you've got a file a mile long in our records," Truman said. "You've worked for some pretty famous clients, too, haven't you? The Noodler was one, as I recall. I had to deal with that mess you helped create. Quite the piece of work you managed to do."

"Yes, that one was an interesting client," the man--Dr. Loboto, Truman remembered the name--said, turning away for a moment. But his eyes, which were on telescoping loupes, suddenly snapped back over to Truman. "You're not going to get anything out of me about my current client, though!" He leaned in close enough for Truman to smell the peppermint toothpaste in his breath. "Doctor-patient confidentiality."

"Ah, yes, very important!" Truman let out another forced laugh. "Good... good to see you've a strong moral code."

"Morals?" Loboto echoed, then threw his head back with a wild laugh. "I haven't seen him in a while!" Idly he picked up a pair of pliers off of a nearby tray, turning the tool in his hand. "He had six decayed teeth in his upper jaw, last I saw him! Well, not anymore..."

"That's... fascinating." Shutting his eyes, Truman tried to remember something from this man's file. He always worked with someone, but had he done any kidnapping on his own? He couldn't recall it... But who could have gotten to him? Especially with all the security measures, both in the Motherlobe and in his own home! It would've had to be someone he knew. A traitor? A mole? But who?

Oleander showed problems sometimes, and Sasha had his issues, but neither of them, surely. But... what about...

He opened his eyes to find Loboto staring directly down into his face again. "Say," he said, before Loboto could speak, "you seem like you'd get along with someone I know. Have you ever heard of a Nick J--"

Loboto's hand grasped the front of his robes, yanking him upward, and his claws were at his throat.

Both arms were shaking. Sweat trickled down the side of the dentist's neck.

Loboto spoke through gritted teeth. "I think," he said, "we're done here."

His smile twisted into the angriest grin Truman had ever seen in his life.

"Goodbye!"

He dropped Truman heavily back onto the chair, and in one swift motion, covered his nose and mouth with a cloth. Truman fought as long as he could, but the last thing he saw before descending into unconsciousness was the permanent grin of the dentist shifting into something resembling a frown.

#caligosto loboto #truman zanotto #psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #ailesswhumptober2023 #psychonauts 2 spoilers #my writing #fanfic #okay here i'm tired of not having anything posted #I like to think that as the grand head of the Psychonauts Truman would be pretty smart #but of course after the events of RoR he was too dazed to be of help #(right before you-know-what happened anyway)

[lorablackmane]

A Step into the Final Path

Listen, I think I speak for all of us when I say I wish we could tell Ben the truth. That being said (pulls out a mallet-). Anyway enjoy and don't read this if u haven't gotten past the fishing minigame!

Consciousness came to Cursor slowly alongside wave upon wave of pain. They wanted to go back to sleep, ignore it. Stay laying wherever they were despite how rough it was... 

Wait... where were they? That felt important, but why- 

Oh. Oh... that's right, the lake! 

Nelson!! 

Cursor jumped up, looking around for their companion. However... he was nowhere to be found. And somehow they were no longer in the depths of the lake: they were back at Nelson's home, on his pier. There wasn't any boats nearby - which meant Skye wasn't here, a small blessing. 

...But then, how did they get here? Was he okay? He must be - they couldn't have pulled themselves onto the pier, and those fish were vicious. Maybe he pulled them up and went inside his home to grab something that he could use to defend them? 

If he did, then... then Cursor would help him! They could fight too, and he'd rescued them: it was up to them to repay the favor. 

Their mind made up, they cautiously crept towards the front door- 

Only to immediately feel their heartbeat skyrocket once more. 

The house was destroyed, and after checking both the living room and bedroom the only traces of the frog were bloody bandages heading towards the front door. The glass that'd once been centralized to the cabinet was now littering the entire floor... along with something else? Cursor couldn't make it out, so they moved closer and pushed some of the glass off of it. 

It was a photo of Ben, Nelson, and... someone else - maybe Skye? Cursor couldn't tell as a part of it was missing. Feeling compelled to pick it up, they hid it by tucking it next to the lining of their thumb. 

Nelson probably wouldn't want to return here, especially since Skye knew this place. Cursor would keep this safe until they met up again. 

Family was important to him after all. 

After exploring the upper room again and grabbing the lantern, they took one last glance around before setting out into the forest. They had to find their friend. 

♧--♧ 

Tears obscured Ben's vision, making the forest blurry as he tried to navigate home. He knew it'd be best to pause and take a breath, let his emotions center themselves so he wouldn't be distracted but - but - 

He'd always been terrible at that, it - it was dad who would help him. And! And now he was gone, Ben would never see him again-!! 

"Aah!" 

A tree root he hadn't seen tripped the young frog. 

The foliage didn't stop him as he rolled down, down, down and further into the forest. The branches kept trying to tear at his skin which left burning, itchy lines across his limbs. Leaves found their way into his hair and holes the branches left some even finding their way into the scratches to make them worse. It felt like it'd never end... but eventually he stopped. With a yelp he landed on his face, which wasn't fun. It was better than if he kept rolling though, he guessed- 

Krkrtch 

Ben tensed, turning towards the tall grass near him. There... was there something there? 

Krkrtchkrctk! 

There was and - and it was getting closer. Ben stumbled to his feet, attempting to make himself bigger despite how scared he felt and the pain jolting through his body due to the fabric of his clothes rubbing against his scratches. He remembered his dad said some creatures in the forest wouldn't hurt you if they thought you were the scarier predator. 

Hopefully this was one of them. 

The brush parted... 

And the white glove popped out. 

Oh, well now he felt so stupid.

Getting all worked up because of a glove. He glared at them though - just because he fell on his head didn't mean he forgot they didn't do anything to help dad. "What do you want?!" 

The glove paused, then turned palms up towards him. Their thumb kept what was in their palm trapped, but Ben couldn't tell what it was besides being made out of paper. 

He didn't want whatever it was though. He wasn't going to let them manipulate him again. He shoved them away, only for them to push against his arm again. His blood boiled and he growled out, "I don't want-!" 

His voice left him as he made out the figures in the photo. 

It was... it was the photo Skye took when they first met her. A chunk of it was missing, the remnants stained somewhat red... but it was still that once treasured memory. With shaky hands he took it from the gloves grip. "W-where... where did you get this?" 

They started making symbols with their hands... but Ben had never seen them before. He thought he recognized an 'o,' but it could've been an 'a.' He spoke, "I'm... I don't know what you're trying to say." 

Grabbing a stick, the glove started pushing it into the ground. The stick got a 'y' down before it broke with a heavy snap!

They weren't disheartened though, instead grabbing a new stick to try again. After a few moments, there were words engraved in the forest floor. Your home. Skye lied to us. 

His eyes widened for a second... then Ben scoffed. "So what if she lied to your group of Handy Pals? She killed him and you-!" 

They shook themselves rapidly, distracting him from what he was about to say, and continued. Not Handy Pals. Your dad & I. She said she'd let you go if I lived. 

She didn't. She hurt us. 

O-oh. 

The dam was starting to crack. He wouldn't let it though - he couldn't trust them. With a shaking breath Ben heard himself speak, "You... you really tried to help him? How - I don't- how am I supposed to believe you?! What if you're lying just like her?!" 

They jumped back with the same force they would've flown if Ben had slapped the glove away. He felt bad for a second, but it faded quickly. He knew better than to trust someone to have his best interests at heart now. Why wouldn't this glove lie if it meant they could use him for something like they did at the house?! 

They seemed to think about it at least. Let me prove it then, by helping you. 

Ben sniffled... then got up, "Alright then, prove it. Help me get home, glove." 

It was more forceful than was allowed in polite conversation, but the glove did as they were told. They led him across the river, zipping in front then returning once the glove had made sure there was nothing hunting on the path. The first time they'd done it he thought they were leaving him. By the 3rd time he'd been painfully reminded of how his dad would sometimes do hunts with Ben, so he shoved it out of his mind and paid the little piece of velvet as little attention as he could. He only started focusing on it again when they were almost to his home since the glove finally did something strange. 

It paused before the bend... then motioned for him to cover his eyes. 

He wasn't sure why, but he did as they asked and covered his eyes. Maybe he thought they'd finally show their true colors and leave him and he'd resigned himself to that fate. Or they'd give Skye some signal and she'd stab him in the back, ending his pain, as little as that made sense. Maybe.. maybe a part of him did believe they had his best interests at heart, and trusted them that whatever was on the other side of the turn was something he'd regret seeing. 

Whatever the reason was subconsciously, he hadn't expected the glove to grab the hand that wasn't covering his eyes. Once it had his hand they started leading him along the last leg of the journey to his home. It.. it felt surprisingly good to trust them like this.

Like they had in Sky- in her music room. The feeling was probably fleeting... but Ben found himself keeping his hand over his eyes longer than he needed to keep the feeling a little bit longer. It was only after he felt the first step against his knee did he finally remove his hand.

Though he knew if the glove hadn't brought him here he would have never trusted them; Ben found himself wishing they didn't come. 

The house was a mess. 

Bandages with bloodstains and glass shards littered the floor, and the windows had hastily thrown up boards covering them. The once happy home, where he'd learned how to clean a fish and had cooked stew with his dad's watchful eyes over his shoulder... it was gone. The house he entered was lifeless, more like a carcass. He couldn't bring himself to go in, instead standing in the broken doorway and wishing this was all a dream.

...It wasn't of course.

At some point the glove had left. He wasn't sure what they were doing, too distracted by his own anguish, but he heard the sound of metal hitting dirt over and over. Eventually they came back and he let them pull him outside. He wasn't sure where they were going until he noticed the pile of dirt next to where the lake met the edge of the forest clearing their home was built on.

He didn't understand why it was there... until he saw his father's hat and a stone sitting upon the pile. 

A grave. 

They'd made his father a grave next to the water he loved so dearly.

Like an overwhelmed dam, this little action finally made Ben truly break.

With a wail the boy fell to his knees, grabbing the dirty cap and holding it with the last photo of his shattered family. His cries echoed through the forest, a sorrowful melody whose strength was so great not even the most monstrous creatures within go near. He cried, and everything fell around him - even his companion's attempts to comfort him as he wept. 

The moon watched over the two until it couldn't anymore, and with it, his cries slowly petered off. His companion continued to rub his back and remove leaves they found in an attempt to bring him even a single modicum of reassurance.

"...There's nothing for me here, is there?" 

They paused their comforting ministrations for a second. They stayed like that for a while, Ben found himself wishing they were as easy to read as- 

No. 

His grip tightened.

No he wouldn't think about him. His glove friend tapped his shoulder, then pointed down to the ground where something was written. ...He hadn't even seen them write, which was a bit worrying since it was right next to his feet. But he'd deal with that later. One problem at a time: wasn't that what the hunter believed in?

He knelt down to read the message a bit easier in the low moonlight. What about your other family members? 

"...I don't know where they are." He had been so little when they'd last met. Hi... his father said he was thinking of bringing Ben to visit in the summer, so he'd know where they were in case something happened. 

He wished his father hadn't put off the trip now. The glove (it seemed mean to just call them that, after all they'd done for him, maybe Lil Buddy would work?) seemed to think about this for a moment. They rubbed their thumb against their palm before jumping up and grabbing their stick again. You can join me! : D 

"W... would your family really be okay with that?" 

Lil Buddy stopped... then wiped across the ground. They slowly wrote out one simple sentence with their stick. 

No family. 

...Oh. 

Now that Ben thought about it, he'd never seen a Handy Pal like this one, had he? All the ones Skye had near her were garden gloves like the pair she wore. 

...Did she kill their family like she killed the one with a silver ring? Did she find this one afterwards on it's own, knowing they were the last member of their family, and decide to take it in? 

It must've really hurt how she betrayed them then... just as she had with him. 

His grip on the photo and the hat tightened, remembering the gentleness of his Lil Buddy. He'd been so mean to them; yet they stayed with him. They brought him this last remnant of his father and made sure he didn't have to see what Skye did to him. They'd made sure his dad had a proper grave. Lil Buddy made sure he was okay no matter how scary things were. 

Yet, they had no one to do the same for them. They... they were both alone here. "Then... then let's be our own family!" 

He jumped up, and headed towards his room. It probably scared Lil Buddy, but he was too focused on his mission. 

There wasn't much left for him here, but there was something he needed to do before they left. And it involved an old gift. 

The lens was cracked, but luckily he had a handful of spares his... his father had given him for his birthday a few months ago. With practiced ease he switched them out. Then Ben placed the strap connected to the camera around his neck as the glove entered the room. "Hey, Lil Buddy, can you stand there for a second?"

They jumped up, then settled against the ladder. His hands were shaky, the reminder of her still heavy in the air... but he had to do this. 

Click! 

The flash was blinding, so bright it even seemed to mess up Lil Buddy despite not having eyes! He almost lost the picture, though luckily they recovered faster than he did and caught it. 

"Thanks Lil Buddy." With the final component, Ben got to work. Shaking the film, he grabbed some tape from his bag. The photo was a bit blurry, and the lighting was rough; but it was perfect in his eyes. Now that he had everything else, there was just one more piece he needed. Bringing out the photo Lil Buddy gave him he set it on his dresser. 

He moved the other photo until Lil Buddy was where Sk... where she had been originally. Once satisfied, he taped them together and held the finished product between his fingers. 

It was messy, and a bit crumpled, but... it was their family now. 

"Okay, let's go Lil' Buddy." 

#lbwriting #the bunny graveyard #the bunny graveyard spoilers #cursor #ben #ben tbg #who couldve killed romeo like this I say #draping across my fainting couch #you see my foot push a mallet beneath said couch #Also if you're wondering how the glove got there so fast it fell too trying to catch up to him #thats not cursors backstory btw ben is projecting at a certain part of the story