#the way I didn’t manage to put it into poetry

[where-dreams-dwell]

Dexter is a cautionary tale of the need to accept discomfort as a part of life, with Emma as his contrast and aspirational example.

Throughout the show Emma embodies determination and self assurance. The only reason she thinks she can change the world is.. because why couldn’t she? In contrast Dexter has no idea what he wants and kind of resents having to even think about it, hence his jumping between careers and looking for purpose for the whole show.

While Em knows what she wants emotionally (the satisfaction or having made a difference, the achievement of doing what she always wanted) but isn’t sure on the specifics of what that will look like (I’ll write plays, no write poetry, no I’ll teach, okay no I’ll write a book), Dexter knows the specifics (I’ll be rich and famous) but doesn’t know what he wants emotionally (‘what will that look like?’ ‘I don’t know’).

While Dex is always running from uncomfortable feelings Em faces then head on and comes out the other side, able to learn from them.

As Dex is travelling to put off making long term decisions, Em has taken the first opportunity to do what she wants: writing, be it books, poems or in this instance plays.

On holiday Dex can’t allow himself to admit that he fancy’s Em and to leave it at that, he has to run from the honesty and vulnerability of that moment by adding on ‘but I pretty much fancy everyone’. In doing this you could argue that he looses his chance with her for several years, where as Emma’s confidence could have resulted in them getting together much sooner.

Dex misses his mothers last birthday because he doesn’t want to face reality. Instead of reacting to the fear and anger and pain of her diagnosis by spending every moment he can with her, or sitting down to have heart to heart talks with her, or helping her out in any meaningful way Dex runs away and numbs himself with substances, and is passed out for the little time he is in her presence.

When he’s nervous people won’t (or already don’t) like him on TV he again turns to substances to numb his feelings, and (instead of taking Em’s advice to ignore them) looks for reassurance from hangers on who don’t actually know him that well. He can’t sit in that worry/fear/discomfort so he finds a way to stop feeling.

When Dex’s marriage falls apart we see him running away to Paris to visit Em. And sure there are ulterior motives here (his hope and assuming that this could be the start of their romantic relationship) but the writer shows him literally traveling away from the country where his failed marriage, child and previous life were as he is show to be angrily talking about his divorce. As an image it appears like he’s running away from the reality of the divorce or running to Em for a distraction. It definitely supports Ems assumptions that he’s not serious about a relationship with her; she’s seen this behaviour in Dex before.

It’s even funny how in small ways we don’t see him handle upsetting things until the very end. Talking about his first marriage and the production the day became? Dex admits he didn’t want to rock the boat so he didn’t fight anything/reject anything/ have much say at all in his wedding. Sylvie drops off Jasmine? Dex is still at the cafe so Em is the one managing slightly awkward small talk. Jasmine practising her violin? We get a brief moment with Dex too but mainly it’s Em sitting through the recitals. In that last episode when they’re struggling with fertility, Em is the one who sits down and talks out her anger and fear and worry, where as Dex (who probably knew what the root of it all was) was happy to leave her to process it how she need to and support her while she did. If she hadn’t brought it up he wouldn’t have said anything.

That’s not becisarily a bad thing (Dex could have known that Em needed to process it herself before talking to him) but it is interesting that the writers engineer Dex to avoid all these moments of emotional discomfort. It reinforces his characterisation of being avoidant when confronted with conflict.

In contrast we kind of constantly see Em having to face hard moments and working through them.

Don’t know what to do with your life? Move to London to try and aim to work in your dream field. London life and restaurant job not going the way you planned? Commit to Dex’s suggestion of teacher training. Time to confess a secret? Here’s a hugely personal one about my past feelings for you. Past crush admits he kind-if fancy’s you? Stick to being honest about your past feelings and don’t take the opening to downplay them. You feel shit about your life and your secret affair? Well let’s turn that into motivation to finally write that book.

Not happy with your long term partner? End the relationship.

Emma’s whole confrontation with Ian is a masterclass in facing difficult conversations and emotions, being vulnerable and open and honest about your feelings, and finding empathy for another outside your point of view. And look what she gains from facing that hard in comfortable conversation? Closure, and a kind of friendship, one that lasts even after she dies.

When Dex confessed that he hoped they would start a romantic relationship in Paris, Em sits him down and starts that hard conversation about how she doesn’t think that is 1) what he even wants and 2) would work between them. She doesn’t brush off of hide from the conversation. And then when she has more information and time to think she commits to Dex.

Even after they sleep together there’s a scene of Em laying the ground rules, making it clear to Dex what she will and won’t stand in this relationship. That’s an awkward conversation to have but Em doesn’t hesitate and makes sure he knows from the get go what she expects and deserves. The writers are constantly showing us ‘Em doesn’t run from uncomfortable feelings’.

And then the tragic twist of fate: Emma is gone and Dexter finally has to learn to live with emotional discomfort. He can’t keep running because there is no escaping this, not like he did with his mum. Like he says to Imaginary-Emma ‘why would time change anything’. He is going to feel like this forever, there is no escaping it. Finally he is learning to face it, manage it, and work through it.

Of course Emma is far more than a literally device and is her own layered and well established character. But in this regard for Dex it’s almost as if she’s the final lesson for him to work through to grow up enough so he can eventually choose to return to the place they met.

And it could even come across as a reward for him; in learning to live with those difficult emotions, his reward is being able to remember Emma fondly, and to return to the place they met to seek out those memories. The memories are bittersweet, but now he remembers Emma as she was and not how she never got to be.

Like his dad said, he is eventually able to ‘live [his] life as if she were still here’ but in order to do that he first had to accept that she was gone.

#spoilers #one day #one day netflix #dexter mayhew #emma morley #grief #emotional maturity #grief is love persevering #emotionally avoidant #I feel like he runs from pain #and doesn’t know how to handle it manage it #so he ignores it and runs from it #until the universe says ‘fuck you’ and makes it unavoidable #media analysis

[liesmyth]

locked tomb characters ranked by how cringe they are

because this post by @wifegideonnav reminded me that they’re all losers, but some are even more losers than the others

Hot Sauce: 1/10. This girl is cool in all possible ways and definitely future lead researcher material. No cringe, zero notes.

Pyrrha: 2/10. By far the least cringe of The Olds. Yes her nicknames for Nona have dad joke energy but she’s very earnest about it and it’s cute.

Juno Zeta: 2/10. Total MILF. Very smart and should know better than to get flirty with We Suffer, but I get it.

Marta Dyas: 3/10. A complete badass with a very sensible outlook on avoiding unnecessary forms. Call me Judith because I would also make a pass at her at the first possible chance.

Commander Wake: 3/10. She made Pyrrha fall in love with her, seduced ever-loyal G1deon into hatefucking and galvanized a dying resistance movement. She was genuinely nice to Gideon those 3 seconds they interacted in passing! Then she had to go and hide under the bed of a mentally ill teenager.

Dulcinea: 4/10. Her horniness for revenge is epic. Let down Pal as nicely as she could and managed to outwit Cytherea when it mattered. Not cringe at all.

Camilla: 4/10. Yes, she could kill you in seconds but she did once sell cigarettes, her most liquid asset, for about a third of their market value.

Alecto: 4/10. Scary eldritch woman-shaped creature with a sword, comes highly recommended by Pyrrha Dve. Loses points for confusing Middle English and thinking John was the best possible Sailor Earth when he was clearly the worst.

G1deon: 5/10. Utterly willing to burn for what he believes in. Yes, he probably needs some perspective but he made sure the baby had enough air before kicking Wake out of the airlock and Matthias Nonius thinks he’s an okay dude.

Pash: 5/10. She has that freedom fighter swag and the cool hair but she is a terrible bodyguard coasting on nepotism, sorry to say.

Palamedes: 6/10. He didn’t clock the serial killer pretending to be his ex because he was too busy going to painfully extreme lengths to avoid interacting with her.

Naberius: 6/10. My controversial opinion is that Babs is the least cringe of the Third House throuple. Yes he looks and acts like a peacock but he puts up with Corona snacking on him for no reason and is still nice to her, and gives Ianthe solid romantic advice.  

Nona: 6/10. Cringe in the unselfconscious way of a young teenager, and put this ability to use making Pal fess up to his nurse kink. She will never be cool but it’s part of her appeal.

Mercymorn: 7/10. Speaks in onomatopoeias. She knows she is insufferable so she’s gonna do her best to make sure to be the most insufferable person in every room. Once called John Gaius “the best man I who ever lived” to his smug face and not even blowing him up later makes up for that.

Ianthe: 7/10. Looks like a wet rat. Hopelessly dramatic but she pulls it off. Declares her love for Harrow at every turn in the most transparent possible way then pretends she’s just being snarky. Some cool points for actually getting shit done

Coronabeth: 7/10. Terrible taste in love interests. Her freedom fighter era was hot but she thinks pompadour hair is a good look? Also, the way she spent her whole life lying about necromancy speaks of extreme conflict avoidance. Cringe move.

Judith: 7/10. She deserved to suffer and has suffered more than she deserves. It’s cringe how she clings to her imperialist brainwashing but she gets a point for rightfully understanding she should be wary of Corona, something Ianthe still can’t even grasp.

Ortus: 7/10. Yes he quotes his own epic poetry WIP at people but he also had to grow up on the Ninth with nothing better to do. Genuinely a very nice guy.

Cytherea: 8/10. Her unhinged vibes are very hot but she killed a couple of nerds and two teenagers instead of anyone who was actually dangerous. Cringe of her!

Silas: 8/10. Smarmy cloud-looking motherfucker. He is a child Pope and I guess he can’t help the inherent cringe of the Eight. But that’s still no excuse for bringing a portrait of John all the way to Canaan House just to hang it in your bedroom, dude.

Gideon: 8/10. Babygirl is a horny virgin with the vocabulary of a nerd. Harrow is bones over tit in love with her and she fails to notice after living in Harrow’s brain for eight months. Gets points for managing to maintain impressive biceps on a diet with no protein.

Augustine: 9/10. Extremely cringe because of how hard he tries to pretend he’s not cringe. Cigarettes on a space station and effectively performing swag don’t make up for how much he clearly wants to suck John’s dick. Which he did at least twice.

Harrow: 10/10. Spent most of her life being mean to Gideon because she was too hot to deal with and lobotomized a coffee shop AU into existence. Thinks Ianthe Tridentarius is beautiful. Once built a bone cocoon to sleep in after not drinking water for two days. Should’ve told God months ago that she just didn’t want to eat his fucking biscuits and stop offering.

John: 10/10. Unfortunately, this scale only goes up to 10 but we all know it’s not enough. Deeply cringe in a myriad of ways, chiefly among them the way he inflicts his barely veiled incest kink on all his friends. That one dad joke was gold, though.

This was getting too long but for the record: Aiglamene is cool and so is Abigail Pent. Magnus is not cool but he’s a fun time. The Terrible Teens are exempt from judgement on account of being 14.

#i wrote this on my phone on the metro spelling what's spelling #will this finally be the post I send to L. to convince her to read the books? #tlt memes #the locked tomb #tlt

[gretavanlace]

Blank

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, dirty talk, discussion of poor self image/shaky mental health, praise, degradation, dumbification, impact play (spanking), etc

You’re standing in front of the floor length mirror when Josh’s voice finds you…turning this way and that with your t-shirt pulled tight around your belly and a frown furrowing your brow.

“The movie’s ready, baby.” There’s a smile in his tone, and a dramatic flare, as there so often is, as he leans against the door jamb. “And I made the popcorn on the stove like you like. None of that microwaved bullshit for my darling doll.”

You’d like to find your excitement in order to match his own - movie night is his favorite night of the week. Often, it turns into several nights a week, in keeping with his passion for film and curling up snug and warm with you on the couch.

And normally, you look forward to it as well, but tonight…

Well, tonight you’d just as soon crawl into bed alone and in the dark. How else will you ever manage to tune out all those poisonous thoughts hissing through your mind? Obsidian. Ominous. Hateful.

“What are you doing, babe?” There is concern in his query. He knows you far too well.

Dropping your shirt as if it’s white hot, you slip away from the mirror, praying he’ll let the matter drop. Though, you hope in vain. You know him far too well, too. “Nothing. C’mon, whatever masterpiece you’ve selected isn’t going to watch itself.”

He steps into the room and you suppress a sigh of defeat. “Waterloo Bridge.” He clarifies, studying you intently. “And you’re a shitty liar. What’s wrong?”

“I said it’s nothing, Josh,” there’s a touch too much venom in your tone, but sometimes you wish he didn’t see so damn much. Sometimes you wish you could skate around things with him.

“And that’s a lie,” he points out, sidling up behind you when you turn away. “Do we lie to one another?”

“No.” You concede quietly as his arms cradle you from behind.

“So, would you like to try again?” His embrace is soft, but it makes you feel safe and protected all the same. He has this way about him - he is love and light, sunshine and smiles, gentle poetry…but something lies hidden away behind it all, something only you get to see, and it makes for the most deliciously dark and menacing aura when it comes out to play.

“I just,” now you’re stammering like a child caught with a crayon in her hand and scribbles on the wall.

His lips move along the nape of your neck, brushing over your skin and the whispers of hair that have fallen from your bun, “You just, what?”

“I had lunch with my sister today.” You offer meekly. Can’t he ever just leave things alone? Can’t he ever just let you curl up with your self-loathing?

“Yes,” he nods, now pecking at the curve of your jaw, “And I adore you for not making me come along…she’s exhausting.”

“I know.” His palms are now running along beneath your shirt, circling your belly with tender possessiveness…it’s soothing and filled up full of love, but you wish his hands would land somewhere a little more flattering “But she’s also truthful. She thinks I should start going to the gym with her, and she’s right.”

He stills behind you instantly, and you can feel him shaking his head, though you’ve closed your eyes against the embarrassment of it all.

Eager to fill the room up with words rather than your own vulnerability, you rush on “She’s is, though. Right, I mean. I’ve put on weight, and the older I get, the harder it will be to take off. Obviously, I’ve never been small, but—“

He cuts you off with a loose palm around your throat and a snapped, “Stop.” Breathed in your ear.

“Josh,” Christ, you want to melt into the floor, “I love you for always being so sweet, but I,”

You haven’t the chance to finish your thought and his grip is tightening, “I said, stop.”

A joke will quench the fire burning in your cheeks, “C’mon, what if I got all adorable and tiny like your little hippy girls in the crowd? I—“

A sharp pinch to the curve of your hip shocks you into silence, which he promptly fills. “Don’t say things like that. You’re fucking beautiful. Soft and warm. I want to nestle my face right here,” his hand is splayed out wide across your belly again, “and right here,” his touch drops to find the dimples in your thighs, “for the rest of my life. If we get to choose our heaven, you will be mine. Gorgeous, perfect girl.”

Now you’re struggling to squirm out of his insistent embrace. You feel too seen. And though you know he is nothing if not sincere, always…those lovely words of his, they feel like untruths.

“Josh,” you snap, a little too harshly, “let’s just go watch the movie, okay?”

But it’s too late, he has spotted the quiver at your bottom lip.

“Hey,” he spins you around to face him and you know it’s useless to shut him out at this point. “What’s going on up here, hmm?” He taps your temple gently, “Is it getting loud?”

You know he means those intrusive thoughts that plague you when the love and admiration he beams in your direction isn’t enough. He knows the way they scream and yell at you no matter how badly he’d love to quiet them for good.

Ashamed, you stare down at his t-shirt, toying with the cotton between your fidgeting fingers, “Maybe a little,” you hush.

His fist tucks under your chin, tilting your face upward, but still, you refuse his gaze. “You need it, baby?”

Voice soft and leading, he lures you out of your bashfulness just enough for you to find the bravery to blink up at him with the tiniest of nods.

“Yeah?” He sounds so unlike himself - but also, exactly like himself. “You need me to make it go away? Wipe that wild mind until you’re as blank as you are pretty?”

Josh is small, and he has never shied away from that, but in these moments, he feels larger than life…looming like a God sent to bring you peace. “Can you, please?’

With a taunting flick of your nipple, he switches on. “Well, how could I ever say no to such a sweet girl? You sound like honey when you say please.”

The warmth of his body, so near to yours, is suddenly missing, but you’re feeling a little too meek to glance up to see where he’s gone…opting to stare at your thumbnail in earnest instead, resisting the urge to pick your cuticle.

“Come on, doll,” his voice comes hushed as a siren’s secret song floating through a cove “Miss you already.”

You feel unworthy of this. Of him. Of all the tiny ways he loves you just right. How he has memorized you in and out. The way he looks at you like he could happily stare forever. How he understands even when he doesn’t quite understand…how he took your heart and turned it round and round until he had mapped out every inch. How he dives inside your mind every day and does the same, no matter how tragic and treacherous it can be to wade through those waters.

When you had stumbled upon this, it had been by accident really. A harsh crack of his palm against the globe of your ass by way of quieting you when you’d argued with his stuttering praises as he pushed into you over and over from behind. Your brain had short circuited in the most welcomed and stunning way. That stinging impact, the shock of it, the tangible pain, had left no room for cruel thoughts…your mind was muffled up like lavender cotton with nothing but Josh and what he saw fit to give.

Most times, he loves you hard enough just by being himself. Golden, shimmering aura, grinning heart, sure and tender hands…but sometimes you need this from him - and he is always willing to oblige. You hold the key that turns all his locks, and he would sink into a bed of hot coals for a nap if you thought to ask it of him.

With a clipped call of your name, he’s got you hustling across the room to fold yourself shyly over his knee at the foot of the bed.

“That’s perfect, baby.” He coos down at you, palm stroking over the backs of your thighs before bunching your t-shirt up around your waist. “Gonna make it all go away, aren’t I? Is that what you need? You need me to take it all away?”

“Please.” You sound pathetic, but already it’s a sweeter sort of shame. One you can name. One you can love.

His fingers tuck under the cotton of your panties, hooking at the soft lace that adorns the edges, straightening them as though he’s adjusting the ribbon on a present he’s waited a very long time to receive.

“If I had to guess,” he hums, a little like the kindest bully you’ve ever known, “I’d wager your pretty pussy’s feeling lonely already. Maybe a little whiny. Maybe starting to swell…” his hands continue to pet at your ass, your thighs, your hips, “I love that, you know? Watching how puffy and swollen you get. It’s adorable…and fucking sexy. Your body begs without a sound.”

Your grip is twisting into the blanket beneath you now as your cheek nuzzles against the downy softness “Josh…”

“Quiet,” he bestows a single, much too delicate smack in the wrong place. It’s too far off to the side for your liking, and he knows it. “We’ll get there. You’re gonna listen first.”

An obedient nod tugs yet another delicious hum of approval from him and you squirm lightly under his hands, thrumming with pleasure at the sound of his validation.

“You’re alright, baby…” he’s being so gentle. Too gentle. But you would lie here beneath his hands and his gaze for all of eternity if that’s what would suit him. “My poor thing just needs it, doesn’t she? Busy little head needs to just leave…” a soft swat lands upon your cheek just below the waist, “her…” another, “alone,” and another.

“Harder, Josh…” it’s a piteous plea, one that pairs nicely with the honeyed, condescending melodies drifting off his tongue.

“Tell me what you’d like me to do to you.” He’s coaxing so kindly, but you know what lurks below that shiny surface. “Say the words, my darling doll. Say the words.”

With a deep, centering breath, you find the calm in your storm by way of his scent…eucalyptus and bergamot…woodsy hint of lemon soap lingering beneath. You find strength in his presence, and love there, too.

“Spank me.” It pants out of you like an urgent prayer. “Make it stop.”

As if in punctuation to your begging, he lands a harsh, loud, cracking strike against the fat of your ass. It comes quickly, shaking your equilibrium though this is exactly what you’ve been imploring him for.

“Fuck!” The curse pushes out of your lungs, long and grateful. Blindsided and aching.

Another blow lands in exactly the same place, setting the flesh there on fire. “Yeah? Fuck?” He taunts, “That’s a good fucking doll…you just take it.”

“More,” you’re rocking around, blissful at the pain and the twitching of his hard cock beneath you.

He begins laying into you without restraint, blow after blow raining down on you like merciful salvation. Your brain is numb now - quiet, hazy and clouded with his perfect wrath.

Tears are streaking like fire down your cheeks, a graven image of mother Mary sobbing blood in a candlelit room of worship come to life. He is your alter. He is your God.

“That’s my girl,” his accolades stutter out between smack after smack until he pauses to jerk your legs apart. “You’re dripping all over me. Baby needs it right here, too?” There is his touch, love and reverence woven into the very fingerprints nudging at your covered entrance. “Dirty little cunt needs a spanking, too, doesn’t she?”

Embarrassingly, a mumbled, indecipherable sound croaks out of you, and your entire body flushes hot with an indignity you happen to relish.

“What was that?” He sounds like sex…like he’s thinking with his throbbing cock - but if your mind’s eye could see straight, you would know better. He is careful and controlled in these moments. Never losing sight of himself, never risking a move too far. “Aw, poor doll is just a dumb little baby, now? Spanked all quiet and wet? I like that, beautiful. I like that very much. No thoughts, right? Shh, no thoughts.”

Again, you manage merely a sound, a murmuring of his name no one but yourself could ever transcribe.

A violent strike buries its way into your covered folds. You jolt and cry out, writhing against his thighs, fighting for more.

You want him inside in any capacity. Fingers, tongue, cock..it matters not, just inside. That’s the only word you seem to know in this moment - inside, inside, inside. But with another sound slap against your cunt, it explodes through your nerve endings like a wire kicking up sparks and skittering against desolate, lonely pavement. You’re climaxing hard and fast, releasing all over the fleece covering his thighs, thrusting against nothing, mourning the heat of his impact though it was there for but a breath.

“Yes!” It wails out of you, warbling and wild…teeth clenched and grinding, body wound so tightly your muscles will protest and complain later.

There will come a time tonight where you’ll long for a way to thank him. For a way to call his name and cradle his face and express your absolute gratitude for this blank slate he molds your mind into…for the way he takes all the ugly and chases it right out of your orbit…

But for now, you fall limp and spent against him. Breathing heavily and deeply. Drawing oxygen way down into your chest that no longer feels so tight. And for now he’ll hear no talk of reciprocation, for now he continues to cater to you with devotion in his touch and a worshipful cast in his gaze as he slips away to draw you a bath.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @poofyloofy @jakeslovehandles @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #greta van fic #greta van smut #fanfic #gvf fic #josh kiszka #gvf josh #josh kiskza smut #josh kiszka fic #josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh gvf #josh kiszka x reader

[junikicker]

Lightning. Thunder. - Rebecca Welton x fem!reader

Lightning. Thunder. - Rebecca Welton x fem!reader

warnings: love confession, alcohol

note: this was so fucking fun to write I can't- btw am I the only one who thinks if I wrote it a bit different, it would have turned into a poetry slam? yeah whatever. here you go folks.

It hurt a lot when you and Rebecca broke things off. The breakup had been mutual but that didn’t mean it hurt less than one where you are broken up with. If you were being honest, you still weren’t over her after half a year. You had distanced yourself from her as good as possible. You asked Keeley if you could work at the office more rather than at Nelson Road and she agreed. You had rarely seen Rebecca since you broke things off. But you missed her. It was like a piece of you was missing.

You sat at the window, a glass of wine in one and a book in the other. The yellowish light of the lamp on the other side of the room set a comfortable and cozy atmosphere as you set the book down and watched the rain hammering against the window and fall down onto the dark street that was only illuminated by one lonely lamp post about twenty meters from your front door. You sighed. The rain. You loved it. It made you calm. The sound relaxed you. There was thunder rumbling in the distance...

A lightning bolt.

Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four. Twenty-Thunder. Barely a kilometer away now.

You downed the rest of the red liquid in your glass before reaching for the bottle again. You didn’t dare touch the bottle to your lips. No. You thought. The glass. More elegant. You reminded yourself.

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol in your system or just your mindset today that had you reminiscing about your time with Rebecca. It felt like yesterday that you were sitting in front of this exact window. Her lounging between your legs and you braiding her hair. There was no make-up, no high heels – not that she wouldn’t have been taller than you either way – no pencil skirts, no pantsuits, no ties, no dresses. Just you, Rebecca, a bottle of red and… white silk robes.

You remembered the feeling of her soft skin under your fingertips, the way that, when your lips connected, the whole world faded out of existence.

You remembered how you laughed together. Watching rom-coms the whole night and her always mouthing the lines like she had never watched anything else. You had loved to observe her. Not in a creepy way, but in a loving way. Many times you had held her, tears streaming down her face when she had encountered Rupert once again.

You sighed. How could it all have gone so terribly wrong. What even went wrong. Was it just the wrong person at the right time. Or maybe right person, wrong time.

Right person, wrong time. You decided. Sounds a lot better. It made you think that, in another life, we may have had a chance.

Lightning. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Thunder.

A tear rolled down your cheek. You wiped it away quickly. You had finished the third glass now. I should stop. You thought, getting up, placing the empty glass onto the coffee table in your living room.

I need to clear my head. You thought, placing the green wine bottle back into the fridge. You closed the fridge. There it was again. The picture of you and Rebecca that you couldn’t get yourself to put away. She looked so happy. She had this ability, you thought, that her smile could light up an entire room. No matter how big it was, no matter how many people were in it. She always managed to light up the room with a simple smile.

You walked over the dark oak tiles on the floor of your apartment. It squeaked under your feet as you sat down on the chair next to the door and reached for your shoes. You laced up the black boots. They looked worn out. You had been wearing them for as long as you could remember. You remembered how hard it had been to break them in. Took me almost a damn year. You chuckled to yourself. That was, of course, only a lie you told yourself, not wanting to admit that they were your favorite and important to you.

You reached for your keys in the key bowl. The metal was cold. You reached for your leather jacket on the golden coat rag. That one had been a present from your best friend. Felix. You smiled at the reminder. What would I do without you, pal?

The jacket was almost as worn out as the boots. The color had faded from the deep black it once had into a washed-out, very dark grey. In an attempt to have it live longer, you had patched it up. Where it had been torn on your shoulder, there now shone a large Richmond logo and on the back there was Superman’s symbol.

Superman. You shook your head. Why can’t I just have my Lois Lane? Or do I need fucking superpowers for that?

You closed the door to your apartment. The color of it mismatched the dark oak on the floor. It bothered you, but you never attempted to change it. The door fell into lock and you looked up. Silver. 7. Ironically enough, it had become your favorite number. Something about the number seven seemed satisfying to you. Even numbers didn’t do it for you. Five seemed such a boring number and-

Thunder.

One and nine were just boring. You also liked the number three. Three and seven. You thought. Imperfections that, if added to one another still manage to be perfect. You locked the door.

The rain was pouring as you stepped out of the building. You looked at the lamp post. The darkness had almost swallowed the black-painted lamp now, only the light visible. The rain hit your head and for a second you thought to go back up for an umbrella and then decided against it. You weren’t made of sugar, were you?

You looked at the poorly lit street. A smile made its way to your face. That was where you had first kissed.

She had brought you home after a night out with her and Keeley. It was as dark as it was this night. The lamppost was present as it had always been since you had moved in. Her dress was blue, her heels black and her eyes were the perfect emerald green, and her perfume… intoxicating.

You felt the uneven bricks of the road under your feet as you walked, the thin rubber on the bottom of your shoes made you feel every little stick and stone.

Your hair was wet by the time you had crossed Duke Street and the water was starting to get past the thin leather of your jacket and you could feel your toes starting to get wet. You walked faster, not caring where you went, so lost in your racing thoughts. Racing thoughts about Rebecca. Racing thoughts about her eyes, her laugh, her voice-

Lightning. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-. Thunder. -three.

Racing thoughts about her…

Paved Court, King Street. Old Palace Place. Lightning. Friars Lane. Thunder. Friars Lane. Friars Lane… Friars Lane.

One. Two. Lightning. Thunder. Three.

Your clothes were drenched by the time you had reached the front door and knocked against the dark wood.

Your hair was sticking to your face, your clothes hung off your body like a bag. Your feet were now entirely wet, and your back was soon to be as well. You stared at the golden number. Gold. Silver. Three. Seven. Lightning. Thunder.

Your heart was beating so hard you thought it would jump out of your chest when the sound of the thunder rumbled away over you and pulled you out of the trance you had been in since you left your flat.

Your bones ached, and your unsteady and heavy breathing told you that you had hurried on your way to her door, probably even started running at some point. The lights turned on in the hallway. Another Lightning bolt. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Thunder. The words ‘What the hell’ muttered under a breath but to be heard through the door.

Keys rustling, silence, a key turning, unlocking the door. Cold metal. Like the keys in your hand were when you left. Lightning. Twenty-one. The door opens. Twenty-two. Thunder.

Her hard eyes softened the moment her eyes found yours. The softness you had longed to see again for what felt like eternity times two.

Your back was now wet as well, you weren’t sure whether the water on your face was tears or rain but it could just as well have been both. Her hair was dry, not up the way you used to remember seeing her when you had to see her for work but down. Down the way she used to wear it when you were at home. Down the way she had it when you were in bed. Her face was nude of make-up. The lack of heels and pencil skirt had something comforting, something that made it all easier.

“Y/n...” Rebecca broke the silence. Her eyes were still on yours but showing everything and nothing at once. You had a hard time reading her expression. “Becca.” You replied, feeling water run down your spine.

“Did you- did you walk all the way here?!” She asked and rushed forward to pull you under the roof so that you wouldn’t get any wetter. You nodded.

“I miss you, Rebecca. And I know this is shitty and I know we ended this. Above all that we did fucking six months, twenty-one days, and seven hours ago. But I just fucking miss you! And I know this all is insane. I know you have a thing going on with Sam and I wish you the best but. I just need you to know that I miss you.” You rushed over the words, barely comprehending what left your mouth yourself as you continue to ramble on.

“I miss you, Becca. And believe it or not… I still love you.”

Lightning. Twenty-one. Twenty-. Her lips on yours, igniting a fire in your soul that you have never felt this strong. Thunder.

Rebecca’s lips moved against yours in the familiar way that you had learned to cherish. There it was again. Her signature scent, suddenly as intoxicating as it had been the first time you kissed. Her hand on the back of your head, tangled in your hair, you on your tiptoes to match her height.

Lightning. “I still love you too.” Thunder.

#gxg #wlw #fem!reader #rebecca welton #rebecca welton x reader #ted lasso #hannah waddingham

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 28

You get ready to leave the QZ - probably forever. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-27 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 4K

A/N: If you're seeing this and feeling behind, it's probably because I put up two chapters in a day! Go back for chapter 27 first :)

You kept Ellie close, flanked by Joel and Tess as you made your way back across the QZ. They slowed down a bit once there was some distance between you and the Firefly hideout, reassured that FEDRA wouldn’t be showing up at any second to start arresting people. 

You weren’t sure there was a safe way out of this situation. Not that you actually thought Joel would kill a child - you doubted Tess would but didn’t know her well enough to know for sure - but if you managed to slip away, the Fireflies would be after you immediately. 

In a time where you could freely move between cities, you might have taken Ellie to a bus stop or train station and gotten the hell out of there. But the QZ was an immensely finite space. There weren’t many rocks under which to hide. 

“OK,” Tess said, looking between you, Joel and Ellie. “I’m going to check on our path out. Doc, you go do whatever you need to do, be back here in three hours. The kid stays with Joel.” 

“No,” you shook your head. “Ellie stays with me.” 

“Then you stay here,” Tess shrugged. “We’re not about to let our key to a way across country out of our sight.” 

You sighed and turned to Ellie, a hard look on her face, and tugged her into the kitchen. 

“You’re not seriously considering leaving me with these psychos?” She asked, voice low. 

“They’re not bad,” you said. “Joel… he’s a good person, he’s not going to do anything to hurt you. He just might be an asshole.” 

“How much of an asshole,” she narrowed her eyes at you. 

“Enough to be annoying about it, not enough to do any damage,” you smiled. “Promise. But I have to go shower and change and grab some things, if I try to cross the country smelling like this they’re going to throw me out of the car before we even make it to Pennsylvania.” 

“Fine,” she muttered. 

“Try not to poke the bear though,” you said, looking back toward Joel and Tess talking quietly in the living room. “Not worth the hassle.” 

She sighed dramatically in the way that only teenaged girls seemed to be able to do and stomped back to the living room. 

“Back in three hours,” you said. 

“Should probably tell Andrew you’re leaving this time,” Joel muttered, flopping on the couch. 

“Yes, the next time the Fireflies grab me off the street and hold me captive for two weeks, I’ll try to leave a note first,” you snapped. He sat up a bit, looking at you, frowning. “What, did you think I was there on purpose?” 

He settled back into the couch. 

“Figured you and Tommy’d decided to do something stupid,” he replied, looking you up and down. “You OK?” 

You were taken aback by the question. 

“Fine,” you replied. “Just really need a shower. Back soon.” 

The shower might have been cold but it might have been the best one you’d ever had. You took your time, scrubbing every inch of yourself, washing your hair twice. You were shivering when you were done but you knew it was probably the last time you’d be clean for a while, you wanted to take advantage of it. 

You tried to pack as quickly as you could but you took a few minutes to make your bed and clean the glass that Ellie had used two weeks earlier, putting it away. You knew you’d likely never see Boston again, let alone this apartment so you wanted to leave it in a good way. You’d lived here for nearly half your life. It was small, parts were worn, but it had been yours. It was hard to reckon with leaving everything behind. 

You packed some clothes, trauma gear, all the research notes you had about the effective treatment you’d found, water bottles, the book of poetry Beth left you. For the second time in your life, you took the picture of you, Joel and Sarah out of its frame and tucked it into your bag, knowing you likely would never return. You did the same with the pictures of your grandmother and Becca. You got the photo of Joel and Tess out of the notebook in the drawer and tucked it away, too. You grabbed a handful of ribbons that you’d collected through the years, like bringing them meant you weren’t leaving part of yourself behind. You took all the food you could from your kitchen - jerky, dried fruit. Every birth control pill pack and broad spectrum antibiotic you had. Finally, you put the old sweatshirt you’d worn during the outbreak in your bag. You still wore it when you felt lonely, put it on and remembered how you’d felt when Joel had given it to you the day you graduated. You’d been tipsy on champagne and he looked so goddamn proud it made your heart ache. 

You sat at your kitchen table and wrote a short note, the only one you felt you needed to write. “Derek,” you wrote. “I’m sorry for everything that happened. Know that I loved you the best I could and know that you deserve more than that. Thank you for everything.” You put it with the framed photo you had taken of him reading in your apartment. 

Before you took a last look around, you went into the stash below the floorboard and brought up all your extra ration cards and ammunition. Not that you had your gun any more thanks to Marlene but hopefully Joel or Tess could use it. You pocketed some ration cards and put the rest in the bag you usually brought to school, along with the photo, the note and as much of your other research as it could hold before setting off to Andrew’s. 

Elizabeth was shrieking with laughter when you got to their door. You waited a second before knocking, savoring the sound while you could. The thought of never hearing it again put a knot in your throat. You took a deep breath before you knocked. 

There was some chaos on the other side of the door, you could hear Andrew trying to herd his children out of the way, followed by the frantic turning of the deadbolt and him ripping the door open, the knob slamming into the wall as he all but jumped into the hall to hug you. 

“Holy shit I thought you were dead,” he held you tight, backpack and all, crushing you to his chest. You hugged him back, trying to remember what it was like the first time you’d held him. You’d both been so different then - he’d just been a teenager, he’d gotten slightly taller since then. It was hard to think of leaving him behind. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice thick. “I’m really sorry…” 

He stepped back, pulling you inside, looking you up and down. 

“Are you coming back or are you leaving?” He asked. 

“Leaving,” you said quietly. 

“Auntie Doc!” Elizabeth ran over to you, her little bare feet slapping against the linoleum floor. “Did you know that giraffes’ tongues can be 20 inches long? That’s almost two feet!” 

“No way, really?” You smiled, trying not to cry. “That’s so long! What do they do with it all?” 

Jess ran out from the bedroom and hurled herself at you, her red hair flying. You barely caught her. 

“Thank God!” She said tearfully. She clung to you for a second before falling back. “Where the hell were you? We’ve been worried sick!” 

“I know and I’m sorry,” you said. Elizabeth was looking up at the adults, confused. “Can we stash the kids for a minute? I need to talk to you guys.” 

Jess nodded before taking Elizabeth’s hand and scooping up Jonah, setting them up in their room with some toys before closing the door. 

“We’ve got about five minutes before one of them winds up dead,” She said. 

“I’ll try to be quick,” you said, handing the canvas bag to Andrew who took it with a frown. You slid your pack off your back and to the floor before sitting on the couch. He sat beside you.“That’s for you. My apartment keys are in there, too. When you can or want, go take whatever you might like.” 

Andrew looked at you and frowned. 

“You’re talking like you’re not coming back…” 

“I don’t think I am,” you said quietly. 

“No,” he shook his head, looking away from you for a moment before turning back, tears in his eyes. “No, see, we don’t do this. You and me, together, that’s how we do this…” 

“It’s not going to happen this time,” you said. “I have a student, the one I’ve told you about… The Fireflies are taking her across country. Something happened with her and… They think she might be immune.” 

“Immune?” Jess frowned, sinking onto the couch beside her husband. “Like can’t turn?” 

You nodded. 

“That doesn’t make sense,” Andrew said. “That… we’d have seen that by now if it were possible.” 

“That’s where I’ve been the last two weeks,” you said. “She showed up at my house with a half healed bite, I was trying to take her to the clinic to see if I could get the cordyceps out and the Fireflies found us. They’ve been monitoring her for the last two weeks. She hasn’t changed, the cordyceps haven’t advanced. I never got a chance to remove them, they just… aren’t attacking her. They’re bringing her to their lab out west and I’m going with them.” 

“No,” Andrew said again. “Fuck the Fireflies, who the hell knows what they’ll do with anything they get from her…” 

“That’s why I have to go,” you said. “I have to make sure whatever they’re doing they’re doing it right. But more importantly, I have to protect that girl. No one is on her side, Andrew, no one. She has no one. She’s going to vanish and no one is going to notice, they’re all going to assume she fell through the cracks. Someone has to be on her side, she can’t go through it all alone.” 

You didn’t want to give them time to argue. 

“In the bag is all the research I didn’t want to try to haul in the backpack that I might want,” you said. “I’m hoping I’ll have access to a radio so if there’s something I desperately need, I’ll get word to you and you can relay it over. There’s more at my place but it’s even older. I’d appreciate if you could get it and hold onto it for me, though. 

“There’s also something in there for Derek, if you wouldn’t mind dropping it off. Doesn’t need to be soon, whenever you want but I’d appreciate if you waited until I’d been gone for a week or two first. I don’t want him thinking I took off because of him or something. I also put my stash of ration cards in there. I kept some to hopefully bribe someone with if I need to on the way out but the rest are yours.” 

“What am I supposed to do without you?” He asked. 

“I don’t know,” you sniffed, starting to cry. “Let me know if you figure it out because I’m going to be lost without you.” 

He pulled you into a tight hug and you pressed your face into his shoulder. 

“I owe you everything, you know,” you said, voice muffled by his shirt. 

“I wouldn’t be here without you,” he replied, holding you close for another moment before pulling back. “The end of the world fucking sucked but I’ve always felt like it at least got me my wife and my best friend out of the deal. And now you’re leaving.” 

“You’re my family,” you smiled tightly, putting a hand on his knee. “But you’ve got your own family now and you’re doing a hell of a job with them. Keep it up, OK?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. 

“Never thought I’d get another sister,” Jess sniffed. “But damn, I lucked out.” 

“I never had one to begin with,” you smiled at her. “But if I had, I think she’d have paled in comparison to you.” 

There was a clatter from the bedroom. Jess dried her eyes. 

“Let me get the kids before they hurt themselves,” she said. “You have to say goodbye to them, too…” 

It took everything you had to not cry as Elizabeth babbled to you about giraffes - the animal from today’s science book - and Jonah tugged at your shirt. You hugged them both tightly, told them how much you loved them, tried to cover the feeling of your heart cracking open with longing to hold them just a while longer. 

Andrew walked you to the door, his arm around your shoulders. 

“Even if we never had to save each other, I’d still be so glad we met,” he said. 

“Me too,” you smiled through the tears. 

“I’m just deciding this isn’t goodbye,” he said. “It’s see you later, OK? We’ll see you again. It’s you and me, that’s how we do this.” 

“Yeah, OK,” you laughed a little and he pressed his lips to your forehead. 

“Radio when you make it, OK?” He said. You nodded. “Love you.” 

“Love you, too.” 

The walk to Joel’s felt both too long and too short. You wanted to get your tears under control before you got there but walking through the QZ while crying was a little too vulnerable for your taste. There were still tears in your eyes when Joel opened the door. 

“You OK?” He frowned down at you as you stepped inside. 

You shrugged with a sniff.

“Said goodbye to Jess and Andrew and the kids,” you said softly. “I never thought I’d know when I wouldn’t see them again, you know? At least not for a few decades if we got that lucky.” 

You wiped your eyes on your sleeves. 

“You’re not coming back,” he said it more than asked it. 

“No,” you shook your head. “I don’t think I am.” 

“Doc!” Ellie came out from the bathroom, a proud grin on her face. “I figured out their smuggling code. 80s means trouble.” 

You glanced up at Joel. 

“Bill and Frank?” 

He added once. 

“Shit,” you muttered. 

Tess wasn’t too far behind you, letting herself in just as you’d managed to stop crying. 

“Let’s move.” 

*** 

This girl was going to drive Joel insane. 

She was nosey, a smart ass and too clever for her own good. And she damn well knew it, too. Which only made it worse. 

Thankfully, she seemed to have a modicum of respect for you and actually listened when you told her to be quiet and do whatever Joel and Tess told her to do. 

“They’re pros,” you’d told her as they got ready to leave the apartment. “You’ve got to trust them. Stick close, obey, you’ll be fine.” 

She’d sighed dramatically but seemed to listen, Joel in the lead, the girl behind him, you behind the girl and Tess bringing up the rear. 

He wasn’t huge on any part of this plan. You were a liability outside the QZ. He’d given you a gun and a knife so you weren’t totally unarmed but you were far from a great shot and he wasn’t sure you’d even be willing to shoot or stab anything but an infected. 

And then there was the kid. 

Joel hadn’t been around kids such since… Regardless, he didn’t remember them seeming quite so small or disturbingly fragile. It wasn’t that she was particularly delicate by any means, it seemed like she approached everything that crossed her path the way a freight train would: loudly and head on. It was more that she was inherently breakable, something that was in desperate need of protection. 

Protection that you’d, apparently, decided fell to you from the way you kept close to her. It set Joel’s teeth on edge. You might have been capable of protecting her in the QZ - you had connections, after all, and you could certainly patch her up when she got hurt. He was sure you’d have no problem shouting down some FEDRA asshole on the girl’s behalf. But raiders and infected? Those were another story. 

But he only had to get the two of you across Boston. Then he’d have a car and could go find Tommy. And leave you to the Fireflies. 

He ground his teeth. 

He’d cross that bridge when he came to it. 

He made it to the fence line, ducking under first while Tess held it up for you and the girl to scramble through before following behind. 

“Holy shit,” the kid breathed, looking up as though the sky should be fucking different a few feet outside the wall. 

“Ellie!” You hissed, grabbing her and tugging her down beside you. 

“Sorry,” she winced. “I’ve just never been outside!” 

Joel watched the searchlight and you tugged the girl lower against you as it passed overhead. 

“Go,” Tess ordered once it had cleared. 

He led you along the wall, staying pressed close against it, until they were close to the next gap… and ran almost head first into a guard. 

“Hey!” He yelled, raising his gun. 

“Fuck,” Joel muttered, putting his hands up, trying to maneuver himself in front of you. You grabbed the girl and tucked her behind your body before raising your hands, too. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The guard snapped. Joel tried to not groan. 

“Look,” he began but he cut him off. 

“Thought I warned you that we were cracking down and now you’re just, what, leading a fuckin’ field trip?” He demanded. 

“This is all just a big misunderstanding,” you smiled a little. “I’m sure we can work it out…” 

“Did I tell you that you could fuckin’ talk?” The man pointed his gun at you. Joel’s jaw twitched. 

“If you just want to give me a second,” your voice was calm. “There are some cards in my back pocket. I’m going to get them out, you can have them, they’re yours, OK?” 

The man paused, gun still pointed at you. 

“Let’s seem ‘em,” he said. 

Joel glanced back at you as you moved slowly, just one hand, and pulled out a wad of cards, approaching the guard slowly and handing them over. You stepped back, glancing behind you as you did, lining yourself up with the girl, staying in front of her. 

“Thanks,” he pocketed them. “For that, I won’t kill you.” 

“What more do you fuckin’ want man?” Tess asked. “Let us do this run and we’ll give you half.” 

“Need a lot more than fuckin’ half if you want me risking my neck for you assholes,” he snapped. “Turn around, down on your knees, hands on your head, let’s go.” 

You looked at Joel, your eyes wide. Your head moved, ever so slightly, once. A shake. For some reason, this was a bridge too far.

“You can have it all,” he said quickly. “All the cards from this run, they’re yours.” 

“I said down on your fuckin’ knees!” The gun was up. 

“Alright, Jesus,” Tess muttered, turning around and looking to you and Ellie. “Just get down…” 

You and the girl shared a look as you got to your knees and Joel followed, watching you out of the corner of his eye. 

“I know a lot of high up people in FEDRA here,” you said as the man went to Tess. “Want a nice, cushy gig? I can make that happen…” 

“Yeah I bet you fuckin’ can,” he scoffed. “Crawling out of the QZ like a fuckin’ rat screams power…” He pressed his scanner to Tess’ neck. 

“Seriously?” She snapped. “We were coming from inside…” 

“Unauthorized exit,” he showed her the screen. “That’s a hanging offense.” 

“Pills,” Joel said quickly. “Half off.” 

“All off,” the man countered. 

“I’m a doctor,” you said quickly. “You won’t even need to wait for them to do a run, I’ll get you as many as you want, I’ve got access…” 

The scanner pressed to Joel’s neck. 

“Two for two,” he shook his head. “Not lookin’ too hot for the field trip…” 

He scanned you next. 

“Looky here,” he turned the scanner around. “Unauthorized. Exit. Hope your powerful friends are free to bail you out…” 

“Name it,” you said quickly, pleading. “I’ll give you whatever you want…” 

He pressed the scanner to the girl’s neck and she screamed, leaving him yelping in pain, clutching his leg. 

You moved quickly, twisting and grabbing the girl, all but throwing her behind you as you scrambled to your feet and the guard yanked a knife from his leg. 

“Fucking bitch!” He raised the gun. 

Joel jumped between you and the guard. 

“She’s freaked out, I’m sorry,” you said quickly. “It’s a misunderstanding, it’s all a misunderstanding. I can still get you whatever you want, I can get you more cards, I can get you pills…” 

“No, fuck you,” he snarled, pressing forward. 

“We can work this out,” Joel kept his hands up, glancing behind him. Your eyes were wide, the girl peering over your shoulder. Your arms were behind you, trying to hold her back as you shielded her. He looked back at the guard. “Just put the gun down.” 

“I don’t fuckin’ think so.” 

The man’s finger twitched toward the trigger and, for half a moment, it was 20 years ago. He was holding Sarah. He was scared. He needed to protect her. Life without her wasn’t worth it, he needed to keep her safe. 

He lunged for the guard before he was fully aware of what he was doing, knocking the gun aside and bringing his fist down on the man’s face again and again and again. 

There was something deeply satisfying about it, raining blows down on the man who would have killed Sarah, just tried to kill you, just tried to kill the fragile girl whose body you were protecting with your own. This time, he wasn’t failing. This time, he was doing what was needed. 

“Joel!” Your voice snapped him back to reality, the man’s face a bloody mass below his hand. 

The girl was leaning behind you, watching him intently. He looked back at the man, his hand covered in his blood. You darted forward, putting one hand gently on his back, the other taking his bicep, tugging him slowly to his feet. You pulled his hand into yours, looking at his bloody knuckles.

“Come on,” you said quietly. “I’ll take a better look when we’re clear…” 

He nodded to you once. You got to your knees and checked the guard’s pulse, wincing after a few seconds. Joel took the gun from the ground. 

“Joel!” Tess yelled, panic in her voice. She was holding up a red scanner. 

“No,” the girl shook her head and you ran past Joel so fast you were barely a blur, throwing yourself between Tess and the girl. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Doc?” Tess snapped. “You’ve got me hauling an infected girl out of the goddamn QZ! You have us risking our asses for this?” 

“I’m not infected!” The girl said, slipping below your arm and holding out her own. “Look, I got bit weeks ago, OK? Weeks, no one lasts that long…” 

“It’s true,” you said quickly. “It’s true, she came to me two weeks ago and it was already a week old then, Marlene got us and held us another two weeks, I saw all of it, I swear she’s not infected I don’t know what it is…” 

“I should fucking kill you both!” Tess snapped. 

“Then let’s do it away from here before more guards show up!” You said quickly, putting the girl behind you again. “Tess, you know me. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have a reason, do you think I’d leave everything here if I didn’t have a reason?” 

She panted for breath, staring you down. 

“Let’s move before we have more fucking problems,” she snapped, stalking for the fence, Tess ducking below first. You nudged the girl behind her and you stopped, looking back at Joel, waiting for him. He came and stood beside you, his mouth a grim line. 

“I promise there’s a reason,” you said softly. “I promise.” 

He gave you a single nod. You ducked below the fence and he followed you and the girl into the dark.

A/N: And we say goodbye to Boston and the Boston OC crew! I hope you enjoyed Andrew and Jess at least half as much as I have. Andrew quickly went from a small side character to probably the second favorite character I've ever written. It's the only reason he survived the run with Tess and Joel - I couldn't handle killing him!

I'm really looking forward to exploring some of the dynamics of these characters in the next chapter and, of course, some fun with infected - with some added drama on the books because why not.

I have a taglist! If you'd like to be added, comment below.

Thank you again for reading! I know I say this all the time but this has been such a joy in large part because the readers are such a joy. Thank you thank you thank you for this experience. Love you all!

Taglist: @paleidiot@ayamenimthiriel@ginger-swag-rapunzel@drewharrisonwriter@flugazi @pedropascalsbbg@taoyuji@starstruckmusiciansartghost@splendsay@bigboiseason123@jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10@sloanexx@ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver @sarap-77 @storyarcscribe @mellymbee @jasminedragoon @lemonmeli @reds-ramblings@arizonadaydreamer@mumma-moonchild@blackroseguzzi@candypeaches16@kittenlittle24@wrappedinfiction@oatmeaiboy

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #enemies to friends to lovers

[shysneeze]

i’ll never love a boy the way i love the ocean | robin buckley x gn!reader

description: you’re in love with your bestfriend and her ocean blue eyes

warnings: swearing, like a little angsty, implied era-typical homophobia (barely)

a/n: i’m literally in love with the song to love a boy by maya hawke so this only seemed appropriate :)

won’t let me link it but just youtube it if ur interested

Robin has blue eyes, the colour of the ocean.

Perhaps it’s not something you’re supposed to notice about your best friend. It’s the sort of observations meant for lovers, for poetry and music.

But Robin's eyes are the colour of the ocean, the kind poets write of getting lost in, and sometimes, it feels like you‘be been drowning in them for years.

Today the setting sun hits them in a way that makes them lighter, and the first you notice is whilst you’re walking together from the movie theatre, whilst she’s rambling on about the film you watched together.

“I mean, next time I’m choosing the film, (y/n).” Robin says, “You’re my best friend but god, you need a movie education.”

You manage an uncommitted hum, busy fighting off the butterflies that are making you feel queasy, trying to ignore the way her hand grazes your own by your side as you walk, each time making you feel almost dizzy.

Ocean eyes, freckles, warm hands…

You can’t pinpoint the moment those features meant so much to you, when you began to catalogue them, to adore them. Sometimes, you can’t imagine a time where they didn’t mesmerise you.

“I mean, it was cheesy in the worst way.”

Robin’s hands lift from her sides with an dramatising hand action that makes a small smile climb to your cheeks, eyes dropping sheepishly to the ground.

“I know.”

Robin laughs and your brows pull into a sort of pained expression, smile faltering and chest tightening.

Eyes, freckles, hands, laughter.

It’s never been a startling realisation, one that brings with it the relief of understanding. You would prefer that, one big, eye opening moment that you could find somewhere to put afterwards, somewhere to store in the far corner of your brain and move on from.

But the realisation that you have fallen in love with your best friend is one that gnaws away at you, the kind that only solidifies with time and becomes entirely too much to store anywhere but everywhere, in every glance and every smile.

And it all started with those ocean eyes.

On days like today, it’s entirely too much, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever love a boy as much as you love those eyes.

And the thought makes you queasy.

“Oh, hey,” Robin begins, frown audible in her gentle, raspy voice, “I’m just joking, (y/n/n). You can choose the next film, I don’t mind- you know I’m just not one for rom-coms-“

You laugh, horrified when it leaves your lips just a little broken. Robin stills by your side, brows creasing with concern, one hand reaching out to pull you to a stop with her.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

When you look up, her eyes are wide, and you can see specs of green in her irises, lips parting wordlessly. Her head tilts a little, curiously, and you realise that you’ve been well and truly caught.

“Do you ever think of who you’ll fall in love with?”

Robin brows lift in surprise, smirk finding her lips, readied with a joke when she spots the solemn expression still etched on your face.

“I-“ She says, smile dropping, “I guess… Why? You’re kind of worrying me here, (y/n).”

“I think I love someone,” You admit, voice quiet despite the courage it’s taken to produce it at all suddenly. “I know that I love them, actually.”

Something twitches on Robin's face, something oddly like disappointment, and her hand pulls back from your own slowly, inviting the cold to prick your skin.

“Oh.” She smiles half heartedly. “And who is the lucky guy?”

You gives her a long contemplative look, anxiety stirring in your chest. Biting your lip, you inhale shakily through your nose.

“What- what if it’s not a guy, Robin?”

In the new silence, you can hear Robin’s breath catch with realisation. Her blue eyes meet yours, wide and knowing, and for the first time, your scared to look into them, scared of what you’ll find.

“You’re in love with… a girl?” Robin clarifies tentatively.

You nod, eyes trained at the scuff marks on your shoes. The silence that settles between you both is so intense it makes you feel dizzy.

“Well, is she a nice girl?” Robin asks, sounding slightly strained, “I can only assume she likes the same crappy movies as you, but I’m sure she’s got redeemable qualities too.”

You laugh, a startled sound as you look up in surprise of her acceptance. She smiles at you, a little forced, but it’s enough to still the panic that was slowly bubbling in your chest.

“She hates my taste in movies.” You admit.

“A woman of taste.”

You know Robin well, so well acquainted with her face that you can see the hurt in the crease between her brows, the subtle disappointment.

You might go as far as to say jealousy.

This realisation is the big, eye opening moment. It brings a jolt of hope right into your chest that seeps outwards like an electric current, until the buzz reaches your finger tips.

“She has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”

It’s escaped from you lips before you can even consider the consequences, and the crease between Robin’s brows deepens, forced smile faltering just a little.

“I’m happy for you.”

The lie only spurs you on, and you reach out for her hands, smiling softly at the familiar warm touch. You find yourself fidgeting with a ring on her index finger.

“(y/n)?”

She glances down at your joined hands, and when look up, she’s already staring at you with parted lips, and there’s a red colour climbing her neck that confirms your newest suspicions.

“Did you know your eyes are the same colour as the ocean?” You ask, smiling nervously. “Blue but with this little hint of green… they’re gorgeous, Robin.”

Robins hands tense in your own, and that crease in her brows softens, breath trembling as it leave her lips. You hold her eyes with more confidence than you ever thought possible.

“It’s me.”

“It’s you.”

Robin stands frozen, and for a moment, your new confidence dwindles, and you worry you’ve been swept away in the hope of it all, and the colour of her eyes.

Then, she’s pulling her hands from yours and before you can panic, plan your excuses, their cupping your cheeks, the pads of her thumbs grazing your cheeks softly.

“It’s me.” She repeats, smiling, “Holy shit, it’s me.”

Her eloquence causes almost makes you laugh, but you’re struggling to tell whether it’s in excitement or humiliating humour. Her grin widens, and she lets out a disbelieving laugh.

“Holy shit.” She repeats.

“I’m going to have to ask you to stop swearing at my confession, thanks.”

“Sorry,” She beams, “But I just-“

“Holy shit,” You say, “I know.”

She shakes her head, gently running her thumbs across your cheek bone. She turns only to glance around then empty street before returning, tongue darting across her lips nervously.

Suddenly you feel like putty in her hands.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You realise, smile twitching at your lips.

“If you let me.”

You’re nodding as you tug her closer, hand wrapped around the fabric of her shirt. She draws your face closer with her hands and when you kiss, everything falls into place.

Her lips are just slightly chapped, but they move gently, perfectly, with your own. In all your wildest daydreams, you’d never allow yourself to imagine this, and you chase her lips as she pulls back , small sound of complaint escaping you in a sharp sigh.

“Oh, don’t worry.” She grins, “I intend to kiss you for hours sometime”

“Oh?”

“It gives me something to do during your crappy film choices-“

You step back with a roll of your eyes, but she catches you with an arm around her waist, grinning gleefully.

“I love you too.” She says softly.

And you soften against her, balancing yourself on her shoulder, and she gives you a look of utter enchantment. You wonder how you’ve never noticed it before, all that love in those ocean eyes.

“Holy shit.” You exhale, smiling.

She rolls her eyes, unravelling herself from your waist as you laugh. When she grabs your hand, she guides it into her pocket, and through a grin, you almost point out what a terrible rom-com cliche she’s entertaining.

“Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“To the video store, so we can rent as many shitty rom-coms as Steve will let us, and I can kiss you, for hours.”

#robin imagines #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin x reader #robin buckley imagines #stranger things imagines #robin buckley x you

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Winner Takes All - Steve Rogers x OC

warnings: frat boy college steve rogers, roommates to lovers, 'it's always been you'

word count: 7.7k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1417543778-winner-takes-all-drew

Vibe: "Steve shook his head, moving to press a kiss to the small freckle at the base of her throat, "Poetry class. First year." he admitted, sitting up and meeting her gaze once more. "I didn't even know what I was doing in that class, and then this blonde firecracker sat next to me, and suddenly it turned into my favorite. She could meet me sarcastic comment for sarcastic comment, and bullied me, and made me question everything, but she also taught me more then that professor did all semester and drove me so insane that I agreed to be her roommate just to be near her."

Masterlist

Drew’s fluffy socks skimmed over the wooden floor of the apartment, hands full with four beer bottles and a bag of chips tucked under her arm. 

The kitchen was quiet except for the odd noise filtering from a bedroom down the hall. A muffled but distinctive groan from her idiot of a roommate and a giggle she didn’t recognise made Drew roll her eyes as she shuffled her way back to the living room. 

As she passed through she palmed one beer off to Sam, laid out on the floor with the PlayStation controller left abandoned by his side and his eyes glued to his phone, and one each to Bucky and Natasha, who had somehow managed to both fit curled up together on the armchair despite the whole couch being empty. 

Friday afternoons often went like this, they’d find themselves lazing in Drew and Steve’s apartment. Sometimes they’d just stay in and sometimes their afternoon beers led to pre-drinking and bar hopping. 

Their bottles were nearly empty by the time Steve and his company finally emerged, hushed voices and laughter echoing all the way to the front door before it swung swiftly closed, and Drew glanced up to see her roommate entering the living room — his dirty-blond hair disheveled, lips pink and t-shirt all askew. 

“Aw, didn’t want to introduce us to your hook up, Rogers?” Bucky asked, smirk on his lips as he shoved a handful of chip crumbs into his mouth. 

“And put her through the pain of meeting you losers?” 

Steve grinned as he hopped over the back of the couch, making himself comfy in the spot right beside Drew and plucking the beer from her hand, draining the last of it. 

“Hey!” 

“Don’t you have a date you should be getting ready for?” Steve countered, wiggling his eyebrows. “Patrick or Pedro or something?” 

“Peter, but you knew that Steven.” 

“Yep. Anyway, you don’t mind if I shower first, do you?”

He was up again before Drew could argue, rounding the couch and smacking a wet kiss to her cheek from behind.

Drew begrudgingly watched him saunter off to their shared bathroom, her attention only pulled away from Steve’s toned back when Natasha cleared her throat and Bucky stifled a laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing D,” he shook his head but she knew that look. 

“It’s never going to happen,” Natasha finally piped up, “Rogers is a coward, say goodbye to your money Buck.” 

He ruffled a hand through her thick red hair, flinching back when she threatened him under her breath. 

“What money?” Drew raised an eyebrow. “I feel out of the loop.”

“You are the loop, it’s torture watching you and Steve going around in a circle. So we made a bet…” Sam’s playful nature died on his lips with a kick from Natasha. 

“A bet?” Drew wasn’t completely in the dark. Not when it came to her feelings about Steve. But they were friends, barely and in he was constantly preoccupied by someone prettier and funnier.

"What kind of bet?" Drew asked hesitantly. Her mind already summing up the reason behind their friends' mischevious ways.

Sam gave her a side glance from his position on the floor that said "are you really asking that question?" while Bucky answered with a grin, "Who would give in first. My money says you– Ow! What the fuck Nat?!"

Natasha had a glare on her face as she cut him off and smacked him up the head.

"Just cause he's been your friend since kindergarten doesn't automatically make him a winner, you ass!" Nat defended.

Drew huffed an indignant breath and tried to glare at her so called friends.

"Oh, boy. Can someone with a little more common sense tell me what kind of bet this is. I would like to know how that bet involves me." She asked, faking a stern tone trying to get one of them to talk.

Natasha stared at her, exasperation clear on her face. The red head’s rigid look was just enough to break Drew’s resolve rather than wait for one of them to answer her clearly. 

“You're my best friend Drew, so I can say this. Stop acting so dense. You know what it’s about and it’s a lot deeper than what these two doofus’ faces or tones are showing.” 

Bucky and Sam mumbled in offense, pressing their lips together as soon as Nat narrowed her eyes at them. 

“I just want you to let yourself be happy, D” 

Drew felt her heart clench inside her chest at her friend’s words. She should’ve known Nat would catch her no matter how hard she tried to just be friends with Steve, she knows her too well. 

Before she could answer, the bathroom door unlocking filled her silence. And like a saving grace Steve’s voice boomed through the hallway. 

“Showers all yours Drewski!” 

Heat rose up her chest and neck as her eyes flicked between the boys and Nat before pushing herself up. 

“I have a date to get ready for.” She muttered.

With that, the blonde rounded the couch and headed down the hallway, pausing to grab her towel off the back of her bedroom door. She let out a huff and shook her head once,  trying her best to push her friend's betrayal out of her mind. They were crazy if they thought something was going to happen between her and Steve. That boy wouldn't recognize her as more than a roommate if she up and slapped him across the face with her feelings. Which Drew had to admit did sound like a pleasing idea. 

She let out a small laugh to herself before a clear of his throat pulled her from her head. 

"Whatcha thinking about, princess?" Steve smirked, roughly rubbing his towel over his dirty blonde hair. 

A drop of water from his hair ran down his neck and Drew couldn't help but follow the trail with her eyes. quickly biting the inside of her cheek before she returned her gaze to him with an eye roll, "First of all, I told you to stop calling me that. And if you must know, I was thinking about how satisfying it would be to slap you across the face," the blonde quipped as she stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door before he could answer.

Stomping grumpily into the shower to the echo of Steve’s laughter, Drew lathered her hair and gave her scalp an overly vicious scrub. Natasha’s words raced around her brain.  She loved her friend with every fiber of her being but she was wrong. There was no-way that hulking blond jackass had any feelings other than irritation  and plain devilment towards her.

With a frustrated sigh she began her pre-date shower routine, even breaking out the hardcore expensive body wash that her mom had bought her last Christmas. By the time she stepped out of the shower, Drew was determined not to let that ape or her meddling friends derail her plans for a good night.

Back in her bedroom, Drew perched on the edge of her bed. Hair wrapped in a towel, she slathered moisturizer on her legs as she hummed along softly to her date night playlist. 

She could hear the boys laughing in the living room, Steve’s obnoxious shouting and the music of whichever video game they’d gone back to playing, when she heard the quiet knock on her door. 

“You can come in, Nat,” Drew called, unraveling her hair from the towel and squeezing out the damp ends.

Natasha wandered into the room and sunk against the dresser, picking at the chipping paint that coated the old wood. "You know that it's all in your best interest?"

"What?" Drew said as she hung the towel. "Dating Steve? It's clear it's a game to you guys."

"It's not," Natasha said in a more serious tone and tapped the dresser to get my attention. "At least it wasn't, we've been watching you both around each other and it only got worse when you started living together. Steve is blind to anyone else in the room when you're around and you're the only person who doesn't see it."

"I have a date," Drew noted, shoving down the butterflies that fluttered in her chest at the thought and checking her reflection in the mirror before adding some mascara to her lashes. 

"With some dweeb that won't even remember you like orange juice with the pulp, or that you like vanilla creamer in your coffee after if he gives you thirty second mind blowing sex," Nat rolled her eyes and mocked Drew in what was supposed to be a frat boys confident swagger.

Steve always remembered the orange juice.

"I'm sorry you're out twenty bucks Natasha," Drew stared at her before collecting her bag and going to leave. 

"My phones on," Nat said from her position in Drew's room, "text me if you need an exit strategy."

"Always,"  Drew offered a smile and snuck from the apartment before the guys could hassle her further about the situation.

Thirty minutes into the date, Drew was already itching to reach for her phone and beg Natasha for a fake emergency. Peter was a completely different person outside of their Psych class. Loud, obnoxious and flirted with every waitress that passed their table. Steve's obnoxious too. She thought as she stared at the man in front of her as he shoved onion ring after onion ring into his mouth. He rambled on about anything and everything under the sun since they sat down. Yeah, but Steve doesn't eat like a Neanderthal. 

Drew shook her head of thoughts of Steve and focused on the football game on the TV behind him. It was ironic, that the only thing getting her through this was a game she cared nothing about and yet felt less than because Steve wasn't around to scream at the television. 

Once they finished eating, they split the bill and Peter walked her outside. A shit-eating grin on his face. 

"What?" she asked, looking up at him with an awkward laugh. 

"Nothing," Peter shrugged, "it's just that I'm surprised Rogers let you out of the house." He took a step towards her, dragging his fingers down her bare arms. Drew had to fight off an actual shiver as she stepped out of his touch. "I'm glad he did though." 

I'm not.

"What do you mean by let me out?" She fought to keep her face neutral as she forced the words out of her mouth, taking half a step more out of his reach. 

"Ya' know," he shrugged with a smirk. 

"No, I don't." She bit out.

"He's always around you somehow, like a goddamn guard dog. Do you know how many times I tried to ask you out but he was always there?"

what?!

Peter's annoying rambling continued, unaware of just how much Drew was losing interest in him, what was left of it anyway.

"I finally got Rocket to corner him to ask about the team try-outs as a distraction so I could talk to you." He finished. Smugness radiated off of him and the sight made Drew furious.

"Goodnight, Peter. Don't bother calling." Drew turned on her heels, fuming and left him, confused and annoyed on the sidewalk.

I should have stayed home with my friends, she thought as she walked to her car that she was glad she took instead of having Peter pick her up. Him touching bare arm had been enough to make her skin crawl. But what concerned her even more was the way Peter called Steve a guard dog. There was a bite to his tone as if he was staking his claim on her like she was a toy on the playground toddlers fought over.

She sniffled as she unlocked her car and sat in the seat. Wiping her eyes, she pulled out her phone and texted Nat. 

Drew: Things didn't go well. I told him not to call me.

Tossing her phone into the passenger seat, Drew made her way home, tightly gripping her steering wheel as Exes by Tate McRae sounded loudly through the car. She silently reminded herself that she'd have to thank Steve for preventing that from happening sooner. Her body shivered in disgust as she threw the car in park, looking up at her building. 

Her phone let out a soft ding as Nat reacted to her message with a heart, telling her she'd be over in the morning to hear all about it. With a sigh of defeat, Drew climbed from her small car, grabbed her bag and headed up to the apartment, preparing herself for the inevitable jeering that she'd receive from Steve when she walked in. 

As expected, the light from the TV caught her eye when she walked in. 

Here we go, she thought to herself. 

"Wow, home at 9 PM? You must have found your soulmate," His raspy voice sounded from the living room. She could almost hear the smirk that was plastered on his lips when she moved herself to sit on the opposite side of the couch from him. 

"Don't start," Drew muttered, pulling her legs underneath herself as she tied her blonde waves into a messy bun on the top of her head.

She could actually feel his eyes as they analyzed her demeanor before he let out a little huff, rising from the couch and rustling around in the kitchen for a few moments before returning. 

As he passed the armchair that Drew usually occupied he grabbed her favorite blanket. Tossing the woolen kaleidoscope over her knees, he handed her a beer and then sat again, taking a swig out of his own bottle.

They stayed sitting in silence for a moment longer before Steve hummed, picking at the label on his beer. 

“You wanna talk about it?” 

“Not yet,” Drew murmured, “just kinda wanna stew in my frustration for a little while.” 

Steve huffed out a small chuckle, still just as rich and deep and causing a familiar warmth to curl in her belly. 

She hated it. 

“He that much of a dick?” Steve asked, tucking his leg up on the couch as he turned to face her. 

“Off the scale.”

She could smell the pine and spice from his cologne as he shifted closer. 

"Am I on the scale?" He asked, brows raising. 

Drew couldn't tell if it was concern or pure cockiness that fueled his question but it dragged a small chuckle from her lips and she could feel herself relaxing. "Yeah it goes, one to Steve Rogers." 

"So I beat Porter?" He flashed the most handsome of smiles at her and lifted his beer for a sip. 

"Peter," Drew corrected him again. "And we aren't measuring the size of your dick, were measuring how much of a dick you are."

"Wins a win, Drewski." He winked at her and the warmth returned. 

"I hate that you do that," she said, picking at her own bottles label now. 

"What?" Steve's voice dropped. 

"Make me feel better. Steve..." She stopped, unsure she even wanted to ask. "Did you," she cleared her throat, "do you prevent guys in class from asking me out?"

“What? Nah, I mean, I might’ve talked to a guy or two, made sure they really knew what they wanted- but it’s all chill,” Steve shrugged, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. 

“Steve! It is not ‘chill’!” Drew exclaimed, turning to face him. “I’m a big girl I can tell guys yes or no on my own.”

“C’mon princess, don’t get all twisted, I was looking out for you.” Steve said, leaning towards her and Drew narrowed her eyes. 

��Not a princess.” she said pushing Steve away, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the couch.

She could feel his gaze on her again. Burning a hole into the side of her head as she sunk further into the cushions. Her favorite blanket acting as a barrier between them. 

"No," he said finally, "definitely not a princess." 

Drew looked over at him, those big blue eyes staring back at her only seemed to glow in the light of the TV. "Why?" She asked softly, "And don't give the whole just protecting me bit." 

Steve let out a groan as his head fell back against the couch. "Look okay, I may have told a few of the guys not to mess around with you. That's all." He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. But it was. She didn't need Steve to protect her or her feelings for that matter. She was an adult who could handle them all the same. 

"Why Steve?" She pushed again for an answer but was only met with those same blue eyes as they darkened. 

"Because they were saying some real fucked up shit and I didn't appreciate it and you definitely didn't deserve to be talked about that way."

She was taken aback by the way his face suddenly lost all the playfulness that was there a minute ago. His lips were drawn into a tight line and his brows furrowed. Somehow, she still didn’t understand why he wanted to protect her so badly. 

"You don't need to do that, Steve." her tone soft, speaking more to herself.

"I'm sorry, honey bee. I didn’t mean to upset you."

"You... you didn't upset me," she told him quietly. "It's just... Why do you want to protect me so much?"

"Because I like you, Drew," he told her, his face serious. "I don't want anyone to hurt you."

"I'm a big girl, Rogers, I can take care of myself, you know?" 

Steve huffed and shook his head, "Believe me, I know you can D, I just - if you had heard what those guys were saying, I couldn't - I couldn't let them near you" 

Silence fell between them for a moment as Steve moved himself forward just enough so his leg was brushing hers and his arm draped lazily around the back of the couch. His fingers played with the edge of her blanket, his eyes cast downward as Drew watched him. 

"Guard dog," Drew whispered, smiling softly and breathing out a small laugh as she shook her head, "That's what Peter called you. I didn't even notice that you'd been protecting me like that until he said it" 

"Quill's an asshole," Steve muttered, watching the fluff of the blanket run through his finger tips.

"Steve," Drew placed her hand on his knee, his blue eyes flickering back up to hers, "Thank you,"

“Shut up,” he murmured, his face closing down, but there was something in his expression that Drew couldn’t let go.

“No, really,” she pressed. “I don’t have that many people to lol out for me so…I appreciate it, Steve.”

“Bucky would do the same, or Nat,” he said, waving his hand dismissively.

“Would they?” Drew questioned, narrowing her eyes and leaning forward slightly, invading his space more than she usually would.

“I—“ Steve paused, his gaze flitting across her face, blue eyes lingering just a moment on her mouth as she worried at her bottom lip. Steve sucked in a breath, settling back a little.

Drew furrowed her brow, trying to ignore the twist in her stomach as her roommate distanced himself again. 

“You what, Steve?” 

“I think they would,” he replied, “but they don’t live with you, D. They don’t watch you leave for a date with a douchebag and sit hoping you walk through that door unharmed, or just hoping you walk through that door at all.”

Drew stared at him for a long moment, watching his deep blue eyes flicker from her to the door. 

“You wait for me?” She asked finally. She had never really noticed but thinking back on the last few months, no matter how late she arrived Steve had always been in the same spot on the couch. 

Sometimes he said nothing, sometimes he’d ask if she slammed the door a little harder than normal. But he always found a reason to be home while she was on a date. 

“I’m hurt you never noticed,” he clutched his chest playfully.

Drew looked into Steve’s eyes and saw actual hurt there, surprising her. 

“Steve…that’s really sweet,” She said, leaning her head onto the back of the couch, forgetting Steve’s arm was there until she was resting on it. 

Drew didn’t move right away, and Steve didn’t pull away, so she stayed where she was. 

“Yeah, that’s me; the sweet one,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

Drew’s throat suddenly felt dry. He really did wait for her. And he really did seem hurt. Were their friends right? 

“Don’t sell yourself short, kid” she quipped. 

Immediate regret when Steve guffawed. And while she mentally kicked herself for that dumb adage, he readjusted and wrapped his arm around her.

He nuzzled against the top of her head, a smile still pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Thanks for the advice, princess.”

"Not a princess," She mumbled with a frown, causing him to laugh. 

"There's no way you like Drewski better." He grinned, pulling back enough to look down at her. 

Drew laughed. "Honestly? I do." 

Steve tossed his head back with a laugh, her favorite kind. His eyes crinkled, mouth hung open and the room filled with the sound that made butterflies in her chest explode.

"Alright, Drewski. You want another beer ?" Steve asked, getting up from the couch and taking the two empty bottles from the coffee table. 

"Actually, I need to get out of these clothes. Be right back." She threw the blanket back and got up as well.

"You need help with those ?"

She heard Steve say, a low chuckle left his throat, his voice laced with mischief. 

"Behave, Rogers." she answered, sauntering off into her room, passing by Steve, who stood in front of the kitchen island watching her walk away, swaying her hips a little more with each step.

As she shut her bedroom door behind her, Drew rested against it with a sigh. Why am I flirting with him? He's not pushing me away... maybe I should up my game a bit? 

Quickly, Drew changed out of her clothes, donning a tank top and a pair of sleep pants before returning to the living area of the apartment. There was a beer already waiting for her beside her favorite spot, which made her smile as she sat down. "Thank you, Steve."

“Gotta keep my favorite girl hydrated,” Steve chuckled, a soft blush warming his cheeks. Drew’s eyes followed where his pinking skin trailed beneath his shirt. 

“Your favorite girl, huh?” 

“I think Bucky would kill me if I said Natasha was my favorite so… y’know, had to go with my second choice.” 

Drew gasped, swatting Steve across his very broad, very firm chest and making him choke out a laugh. 

“Rude. You can be honest, Stevie. I won’t let it ruin your star football player, ladies man reputation if you wanna be soft for once. Promise.” 

Steve sighed and settled in close again, Drew’s heart rate picking up at the sheer warmth of him against her side. 

“You’ve always been my favorite, honey bee.”

She looked up at him to find him staring down at her and the breath caught in her throat under his gaze. 

play it cool Drew, don’t flip out.

“Honey bee is cute, how many girls have heard that nickname?” She attempted to recover as the blush tickled at her cheeks. 

“Only you,” he said, not looking away. 

“You’re very smooth, Rogers,” she huffed when she realized how close they were.

“All part of the charm,” Steve grinned, and Drew laughed, staring as his grin slipped into a pout. 

“Cute,” Drew scoffed, but Steve’s eyes lit up. 

“You think I’m cute?” He asked quietly, his eyes focused on her lips as she quickly licked them, biting down on her lower lip. 

Drew noticed Steve’s breathing getting deeper, heavier, and she looked up to find his gaze had darkened.

"I..." 

She hesitated. The words wouldn't come out. Yes, I think you're cute!

"C'mon, don't get shy on me now, Drewski."

Steve's voice had dropped about an octave. Goosebumps tickled to the surface of her skin. She couldn't help but giggle at what was unfolding here.

The smile that spread across his face at the sound sent warmth spreading through her body. He reached up, gently dragging his knuckles along her cheek. Tiny sparks lit up her skin as he tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. "That's my favorite sound in the world." He rasped searching her eyes before they flickered down to her lips again. 

"Steve," she whispered. 

"Tell me not to kiss you right now Drew," he said, his lips so close to hers she could feel the warmth of his breath fanning against her skin. "Tell me to back off and I will, but if you don't..." The words trailed off and she shook her head pushing away every single doubt she had about the man sitting in front of her. 

"I won't." She whispered and that's all it took for him to crash his mouth against her own.

Drew gasped into his mouth, her hand instantly moving to rest on the back of his neck as their lips moved in sync with each other. It wasn't long before she could feel him brush his tongue against her lips, asking for entrance, which she happily gave. She could taste the beer he'd been drinking along with mint from the gum he always carried on him, making her moan quietly.

She felt Steve's lips curl up at the soft sound that escaped her throat, pulling another giggle from her. Quickly pressing another kiss to her lips with a smile, he moved to trace her jaw with wet open-mouthed kisses. 

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he whispered against her skin. 

Drew let her head fall back and slightly to the side as her eyes fluttered closed, "Tell me," she breathed. 

Steve shook his head, moving to press a kiss to the small freckle at the base of her throat, "Poetry class. First year." he admitted, sitting up and meeting her gaze once more. "I didn't even know what I was doing in that class, and this blonde firecracker sat next to me, and suddenly it turned into my favorite class. She could meet me sarcastic comment for sarcastic comment, and bullied me, and made me question everything, but she also taught me more than that professor did all semester and drove me so insane that I agreed to be her roommate just to be near her."

“Are you close enough now?” Drew breathed out and tangled her fingers into the hair that grew at his nape. 

“Not nearly,” he responded against her skin instantly like he had waited his whole life to be asked exactly that. 

“And now?” She asked. He leaned back never breaking away but wrapping his arm around her waist and allowing her closer as he kissed his way across her collar bone and she settled into his lap. “Steve,” she urged him for an answer. 

“It’ll never be enough,” he hummed. The fresh stubble on his jaw tickled her skin as his fingers worked beneath the fabric of her shirt and up her spine.

Drew shivered and Steve pulled her in closer, hands spreading warm and wide on her back. His lips were trailing up her neck and behind her ear, sucking gently. 

Steve pulled back and his eyes darkened as they zeroed in on the mark he left behind, his hands turning possessive on her skin, clutching her too him. 

“Steve,” Drew gasped, feeling his bulge grow between her legs. She hesitantly ground down, and Steve grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her in for a rough kiss. 

“Honeybee,” Steve groaned into Drew’s mouth, holding her hips tight as she wound her arms around his neck.

Drew moaned as their teeth clicked against each other. She felt lightheaded with passion. Steve's hands continued to explore her back as his hips bucked up against hers. 

She gasped - her panties were already wet, and she was getting impatient as she felt the growing bulge in Steve's pants. 

He pulled away abruptly and she whined at the loss of contact.

"Tell me what you want, Drew," he whispered in a sultry voice. "I've been talking an awful lot."

Drew stared at him for a moment. Her heart felt like it wanted to escape her chest as his fingers traced a line up and down her spine, tickling her skin. "I-" she stopped, the words on her tongue but stuck. 

"You can tell me no," He said cupping her cheek with his free hand, curling it into her hair. "We do this at your pace." 

She shook her head, "it's not that." Drew laughed softly pressing her forehead against his. "I want to, I want you" 

Steve sighed softly, "But?" 

"but I'm scared." She admitted softly.

Steve kissed the tip of her nose as he cradled her head in his hands. “What are you scared of?” He asked softly. “I hope, not me. I never want you to be scared of me.”

"No, no it's not you I'm scared of," Drew twisted her head and placed a soft kiss to Steve's wrist as his fingers played with the hair at the back of her neck, "I'm scared of what this means, of admitting what we want here, I just - you had another girl in your room today and I just got home from a date... why did it take these things to get us here? Why couldn't we be normal people and just - "

"Be honest?" Steve finished her question, with a soft smirk.

Letting out a breath she was unaware she was holding, Drew nodded and fiddled with the silver chain that sat around Steve's neck, "I just want to make sure we know what we're doing, and not just getting caught up in the moment,"

"Drewski," Steve started catching her brown eyes with his blue ones, his expression soft and caring as his fingertips traced circles into the skin of her back, "There's a reason I'm home every night, watching Love Island with you. Why none of the girls I've brought over ever stayed, and I think there's a reason why you came to sit on the couch with me after your bad dates instead of hiding in your room like you usually do when someone pisses you off." 

Her tongue flicked over her bottom lip and she nodded slowly with a small smirk, "It's you and me. It always has been. It just took too long for either of us to realize" she said softly.

Steve smiled at her, nodding, and pressed his lips to hers gently. “You and me Drew, always.” He pulled her closer on his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her chest. She could feel her heart beating under his ear, a little fast but steady. 

Drew kissed the top of Steve’s head, nuzzling her face into his hair. She realized after a moment that Steve wasn’t moving. 

“Are we…cuddling? Are you a cuddler, Rogers?” 

“Only for you, honeybee,” Steve murmured against her skin, sinking into the couch with her, pressing Drew further into his arms as he relaxed.

A warm feeling unfurled in her chest, her heart expanding with unknown but pleasant sensations coursing through her as Steve's larger body covered her own. His thick arms wrapping around her waist completely and his scent the only thing she could smell. It was the most comfort she'd felt in a long time.

Their chests rose and fell in sync as they breathed each other in. Drew didn't want to break this beautiful silence even though her mind was begging for more reassurance from him.

Steve raised his hand to brush the strand of hair out of her face at a slow pace, his calloused fingers traveling over her skin heating it in its wake. Like he was savoring every second with her, his blue eyes glittering like snow crystals on a cold winter morning. 

"Princess, we take this at whatever pace you feel comfortable with." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, his lips warm and soft against her skin.

When he pulled back to meet her gaze she smiled tenderly, the soft thump of his heartbeat calming her nerves. 

“What’d I say about the princess, Rogers?” She breathed, a soft laugh escaping her lips at his apologetic grimace. 

“I’m ok, Steve. Really.” She paused, bringing her thumb to his lips, tracing them gently as she felt his heartbeat quicken. “I feel safe with you. I trust you.”

Steve kissed her thumb, staring into her eyes. His own heartbeat hammered in his chest as he drew her hand away so he could lean in and kiss her again. He couldn’t get enough of the sweet taste of her mouth.

His hands slid slowly down her sides, as if he were committing her curves to memory, and halted at her waist. When his fingers slipped under the hem of her tank top and tightened against her skin Drew moaned.

Crushing her chest against his, she deepened their kiss, tilting her head as their tongues entwined. Steve whimpered into her mouth when her thighs clamped around his hips and she raked her fingers through his messy blond hair.

Drew's hips started moving on their own, slowly grinding onto him as heat pooled low in her belly at the feel of his hardness underneath her most sensitive parts. 

The deliciously sinful groan that left him at the next grind of their hips together made her bite his lower lip and suck into her mouth. His hands roaming the skin of her back digging in slightly and pulling her flush against him.

"Faster, Drew." He panted into her mouth as her back bowed when his cock hit her clothed clit just right.

A desperate whimper left her lips as she increased the pace which elicited a string of deep moans and a few curses out of Steve.

"Fuck." 

Steve's hands traveled up her hips over the sheer lace of her bra, her nipples already peaked through the fabric, almost unbearably sensitive to his touch, like her body unknowingly yearned for him all this time.

Drew dropped her head to his shoulder, panting as she circled her hips. “I need to feel you…”

Steve dipped his thumbs beneath the neck of her top and into her bra, searching out her pebbled nipples and circling them in time to the movement of her hips against him.

“Honey bee,” he whispered lustily, kissing a hot trail across her jaw and down the column of her throat.

“Touch me, Steve…please…” Her voice was a breathy whisper and her hands clutched desperately to him.

Steve tilted his head back, the warmth of his hands leaving her skin as he instead tucked his thumb under her chin until he met her gaze. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Never been more sure of anything in my life, Steve. Now please fucking touch me.” 

Drew’s breath hitched on the last word as Steve moved his thumb to her bottom lip, tugging it down until her mouth naturally parted and he skimmed along the sensitive skin just inside. Eyes not leaving Steve’s, Drew flicked her tongue out over the tip of his thumb, sucking it into her mouth.

His eyes darkened and his lids were low on his cornflower eyes as she watched him trace the movement, breathing laboured and heavy. 

"Take off your pants, D." 

The low command sent a rush of heat down her spine and she scrambled to take her pajama pants off, lacking any grace as she stumbled out of them halfway across his lap while he bit his lip in amusement.

Drew settled back down straddling him, her damp pale blue panties doing little to cover her, but the way Steve's eyes narrowed in on them and his hands dug into the flesh of her ass told her she didn't need to cover herself from him.

Steve laid a trail of kisses along her neck, lowering himself slowly along her still clothed chest. Nose nudging each of her pebbled nipples, as her breath hitched in her throat. 

She lifted herself up on her elbows slightly, eyes finding Steve’s with quick breaths as he pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her belly where her top scrunched up. 

“Sweet talker,” Drew teased. 

“Only for you,” he winked, looking up at her. “And for the record, you're beautiful all the time. But this view is… perfect.” He mused as his hold tightened on her thigh.

Drew ran one hand down his arm, watching as goosebumps rose on his skin. “My view is pretty perfect too.”

Steve grinned before bending to kiss her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel, making her gasp.

With a low chuckle, he trailed down over her abdomen, kissing, nipping, and sucking a tingling path across her skin.  When he bypassed the apex of her thighs Drew let out a needy whine. Steve raised his eyes to hers and gave a sly smile.

“You…” she growled in frustration, lifting her hips impatiently.

His large hand splayed across her stomach, pressing her down into the couch and preventing her from moving.

“Don’t tease me,” she pleaded desperately.

“But it’s such fun, honey bee,” he hummed, nipping at the sensitive skin of her thigh.

Drew huffed and Steve chuckled at her indignation, the gruffness of his laugh against her skin sending tingles straight to the depths of her belly. 

“Steeeeve,” she whined again, fingers tangling in his hair in an attempt to coax him closer to where she needed him most. 

“Okay, okay,” Steve conceded, lips curling into a devilish smirk as he sucked a bruise to her thigh and peppered the skin with soft, small kisses until his mouth landed warm and wet over the lace of her panties. 

The grip Drew had on Steve’s hair tightened and he groaned into her heat, tongue lapping lazily over the dampening fabric.

“Holy shit,” Drew moaned, her hips arching upward only to be pushed back down again by Steve. 

She lifted her head, wanting to watch him as he swirled his tongue over her clothed clit, making her mouth part in pleasure.

She needed him closer and she knew he was teasing her on purpose as he flattened his tongue and increased the pressure on her clit.

“Asshole,” she gasped in desperation, crossing her ankles across the muscular planes of his back as she tried to draw him closer.

“I know, I know,” he mocked huskily, “I’m such a jerk.” 

“Ste-“ she began but her words caught in her throat as he pulled the lace of her panties to one side and swept his tongue in a languid stripe through her bare folds.

“Oh— oh God,” Drew whimpered as Steve’s lips wrapped around her clit, sucking lightly between long swirls of his tongue. 

Heat pooled in her belly, and there were big, fluttering swoops of desire in her chest. Amongst the surprising sweetness and soft side of Steve, this is what she’d been fucking missing out on too?! 

“How’re you holdin’ up, baby?” Steve’s voice, a little rough and dripping from pink, swollen lips sounded from between her legs. 

“Don’t you dare stop, Steve.” 

Steve grinned, delighted and devilish before he winked and dipped his head again with a murmured, “yes, ma’am.”

Drew gripped Steve’s hair with both hands as she began to rock back and forth. She could feel him play with her, tease and delight her with every stroke of his tongue. 

“Fuck- oh!”

Steve growled, leaving one hand on her ass while the other slowly sank two fingers into her soaking heat.

She clenched around them, the new sensation sending thrills of pleasure up her spine as he dragged them in and out of her at an agonisingly slow pace.

Her heaving breaths were almost sobs when he replaced his lips with his thumb, working her clit in time with his fingers as he began to kiss his way back up her body.

He must have paid attention to every inch of her, nudging her tank top up with his nose and pressing his soft, wet lips against her sweat-damp skin until he reached her neck.

Raising himself up and yet never slowing his pace, Steve trailed his nose along her jaw before capturing her mouth in a salacious kiss.

Each drag of his tongue against hers, each catch of his teeth across the wet skin of her lips,  felt deliberate as if Steve had worked out the perfect formula to bring Drew right to the brink. 

Her whole body was alight with it, muscles tensing and heart racing as her climax coiled tighter and tighter in her belly. She was so close, sighing and whimpering into Steve’s mouth. 

“Let go, honey bee. Wanna hear all the pretty sounds you make,” he whispered, lips trailing along the length of her jaw and catching her earlobe gently between his teeth. “Come on, gorgeous girl, I got you.”

That was all Drew needed, the release washed over her like a tidal wave as Steve worked deep inside of her. His lips found hers in a needy, deep kiss while his hand braced her arching back and supported her as she rolled through the intense pleasure. 

He groaned as her grip on his hair tightened and everything rushed to her head, forcing her eyes to flutter as the euphoria of the orgasm overtook her. Steve pulled away from her gently, teeth grazing her bottom lip as she worked to catch her breath.

“Fuck, look at you,” Steve smiled, his blue eyes alight with pleasure and desire. “Coming so good for me…”

“I…I can’t…I…Jesus…” Drew gasped, a blissful grin blooming lazily across her face.

“Take it easy,” Steve rumbled, nuzzling his nose against her cheek as his hand came up to cup the other.

His thumb swiped away the beads of sweat from the bridge of her nose and he ghosted his lips across her skin as she tried to slow her breathing and calm her heaving chest.

Drew giggled softly and she used her grip on his hair to angle his lips over her own, their deep kisses becoming soft and sweet.

“You okay?” Steve whispered between kisses. His own skin glistened with a soft pink blush of exertion and Drew wanted to spend the rest of the night covering every inch of it with kisses, tracing each freckle and football scar. 

She hummed, nodding her answer into the crook of Steve’s neck before drawing back to meet his gaze, soft and adoring.

“What now?” 

“Now,” Steve replied softly, kissing her again as if he just couldn’t help himself, “now I’m hoping you’ll agree to be my favourite and only girl.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I know I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I’d be a real idiot to miss out on loving you, D.” Drew beamed, surging forward to kiss Steve again until he drew back suddenly. “Hey, you wanna come to my game next week. Wear my jersey?”

"That sounds like trouble, Steve Rogers." Drew smiled, her cheeks sore from doing it for so long. "

"It's a promise." He disagreed. 

A week later she stood in the stands, donning the jersey nervously, heart beating faster than it ever had before as Steve was crushed into the grass by a large defensemen. 

"Nice jersey," Bucky tugged on the hem as he slid into the stands behind her and kissed Nat on the cheek. 

"Just supporting a friend, Buck." Drew said without taking her eyes off the field. 

"You're late," she scolded under her breath. 

"I can't watch him play these big games, makes me sick to my stomach,"  he scowled and his strong hand squeezed Drew's shoulder in support.

“He’ll be fine,” Drew assured. Whether that was for Buck or herself, she didn’t know. She looked over at Bucky and smiled. “I’m sure of it.”

In truth, at the end of the third quarter they weren’t entirely safe and even Drew was chewing nervously at her bottom lip as she watched Steve pelt his way across the field.

She bounced on the balls of her feet and worried at the hem of her jersey.

“C’mon Steve!” She yelled every time his fingers touched the ball.

“What’s gotten into you?” Natasha hissed as the players lined up for the start of the final quarter.

“Nothing!” Drew insisted, craning her neck to catch the start of play and tuning out everything else.

God, it was close. As the minutes ticked down Drew, Bucky, and Natasha found themselves pressed against the rail at the edge of the field. They were screaming to high heaven, their arms flailing, as Steve scooped up the ball and launched it with a powerful throw towards Nick Fury, who took off with it down the field.

“Go, go, go!” Drew shrieked, which turned into squeals of victory as Fury landed the ball just before time was called. 

She found herself pulled from the mass of celebration and almost dragged over the rail as Steve wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a victorious embrace.

His hungry lips claimed hers, unbothered by their audience, and their breathing grew heavier for an entirely different reason. They were so focused on each other that neither of them noticed the smug glances shared between their friends, or the money that slipped begrudgingly into palms.

“C’mon honey bee,” Steve grinned, hoisting her over the rail. “I want the team to meet my girl.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers au #college au #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x oc #frat boy steve rogers #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #marvel oneshot #one shot #fluff #marvelous #steve rogers smut #smut #roommates to lovers

[prose-for-hire]

Five String Serenade

Pairing: Giles x shy!reader

Request: Not requested. I started writing this when I had covid last year and just found it again! This is another one where reader is inserted into the plot of an episode, this one’s where the wild things are, where we find Giles singing at the espresso pump.

You are shy and go to their music/poetry evenings to try and salvage some kind of social life, only to be mesmerised by the man that comes and plays every month or so. You tell yourself that tonight is the night that you speak to him after his set but you didn’t bank on getting in the middle of a life or death situation.

You were sat there, patiently waiting for the music to begin. You had arrived early. Early enough that you had already ordered a second beverage from the counter as you waited. You were on your own, but you had managed to fend off any lingering embarrassment at that fact easily by now. You spent a lot of time in your own company and decided that you wanted to try and experience new things even if it meant stepping out of your comfort zone.

The Espresso Pump was busier than usual but your usual seat in the back corner of the room was miraculously still waiting for you when you returned. You slid into the empty seat and smiled softly to yourself. You had made yourself a promise and you were going to make good on it tonight.

You had become a regular at this coffee house, mostly for these open mic nights that they put on, where people would mostly sing or recite their own words with such feeling. You were barely confident enough to take a seat in the audience, let alone get up there yourself but you adored watching and soaking in the atmosphere of these evenings.

The first woman came onto the small stage and you smiled politely and swayed softly but she wasn’t who you had come here to see. Once upon a time, you had just come for the experience but now you found yourself increasingly coming just to catch a glimpse of him. He was so talented but from hearing him speak and the way he appeared so kind and considerate to those around him, you had quickly developed a little crush.

Anticipation swelled inside you as the woman left the stage, you clapped distractedly as you waited to see who was next. Your eyes lit up when you saw that it was him.

He set up on the stage, smiling out at the audience. Rather than introducing himself he immediately started playing. You were hooked, hypnotised from the very first note. As you always were. You swore that he was singing to you, it looked like his eyes were meeting yours but you were well aware you were probably fantasising and he was looking at some point on the wall behind him.

It didn’t matter anyway. All you saw was him and the the strings of his guitar that he expertly played with those skilled fingers. He was so attractive, made even more so as the emotion of his voice touched you deeply.

Those sweet notes caressing your ear as if he they were made for you. Serenading you and only you.

When he finished his set, happily oblivious as his eyes had widened at the arrival of people he recognised meaning that he had to drag his eyes away from you. As your heart still fluttering to the tune of his song, there he was. Alone and packing up his guitar. This was your chance.

You had spoken to him once, you had both picked up each other’s orders at the counter and had to swap them back. He had opened his mouth as if to say something more before he left but shook his head and hurried away before he had chance. He had wanted to ask if you would give him your number or meet perhaps one evening but he realised he shouldn’t have even stopped to order his drink. There was something of a time-sensitive emergency that he couldn’t possibly explain to you so rather than dragging you into his often dangerous and plain annoying world, he left you watching him leave.

You wished you had said something. Anything would have done. But you had clammed up, your gaze fixed on the floor rather than lingering on him in the way you wished you had. You wished you had traced every feature, memorised every inch and committed it to your mind forever.

That was okay though, because today could be that day. Today you would at least tell him how much you loved his music. If nothing else.You walked up slowly, not realising that the small group of young people that had arrived during the performance were there for him. To be honest, you wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that the entire crowd was only there to watch him. It was why you found yourself never missing the first weekend of the month anyway.

“Uh, hi…” You cleared your throat, he didn’t seem to hear you as he packed his guitar away, “Hello?”

“Yes, yes, can I help you?” He turned and saw that it was you and wished to God his words hadn’t sounded so dismissive. You took a subconscious step back from him and your eyes immediately dropped to the floor. You had always been this way, reserved and struggling to express yourself. You shut off when you thought that someone might laugh or reject you in some way.

The truth was, he liked you. Hadn’t stopped thinking about you since that time with the mixed up coffee cups. There just had never been the right moment, much like right now there was always some demon in the way.

His smile warmed you when you glanced briefly back at his face, he appeared more friendly now that he realised who was speaking to him. He was still somewhat distracted, he kept glancing behind you at the kids that were gesturing wildly and acting out a very amateur interpretation of what they had just been facing in the haunted house.

You were so nervous, you didn’t want to be this nervous about this. You wished you were confident and suave and could convince him to drop any plans he may have had for the rest of the evening and spend his time with you alone. But you were determined at least. You weren’t going to walk away without saying anything, not this time. A promise was a promise and even though it was only with yourself, you decided that it needed to be honoured. Or you would forever be torturing yourself with what ifs.

Your palms were sweaty, you quickly tried to dry them on the material of your clothing as you took a deep, deep breath. Your knees became weak and time began to slow but your heart rate quickened. He smelled so good and you looked down before resolving yourself and raising your eyeline to the back of his head where he was leaning over to pack up his stuff.

“I wanted to know if…” You had a tendency to mumble your words but today they had just evaded you all together. Trailed off into nothing. You couldn’t hide your disappointment in yourself and his distracted nature as he continued to hurriedly pack away his guitar.

“I hope my haste hasn’t made you believe that I’m not interested in speaking with you. It’s in fact quite the opposite these young people are in some sort of peril that I now have to attempt to fix most likely before sunrise” he muttered, gesturing to the group that still appeared somewhat shellshocked at even the idea that the man would spend his evening singing in this way.

“Are, uh, they family?” You looked at them, wondering if you had completely made a fool of yourself and these potential children of his would momentarily part and allow his spouse to walk towards to and embarrass you in front of the small crowd.

“I suppose in a way. Not by blood but they do rely on me to a certain extent”

“That’s really sweet…” You said softly, feeling a heat rising in your cheeks as you said it. If he had caught it, he was a gentleman and didn’t comment.

“Uh, if there’s anything that you need help with…” You let your offer hang in the air and he looked up from what he was doing to smile at you faintly. He had a good feeling about you, but alas he couldn’t leave the group waiting any longer. They appeared concerned.

“These aren’t the usual teenage tribulations, I’m afraid. They are more… demonic in nature. Is this something you have any experience in?” He asked you this hopefully and it made you wish more than anything in the world that you were some rogue demon hunter but the truth was, you were so shy that you avoided a lot of the human population never mind the demon population who were much harder to stumble across, say, doing your grocery shopping.

“Well, no b-but my, uh, cousin knew a demon once…” you realised just how stupid you sounded only after the sentence left your mouth. You did, of course, know demons and vampires existed. You weren’t unaware, you were just shy and hadn’t actually ever faced one before.

“Giles! We gotta encounter of the dead kind over here” the group finally interrupted.

“We need to make with the books and the, uh, more books…”

“I apologise, I really must go”

“It was nice to-” You started but, you had blinked and he had already disappeared with the group of teenagers. You sighed, cursing yourself as you started to leave the coffee shop.

You decided to walk the long way home. You enjoyed walking at night. It was a wonder really, living in Sunnydale and being partial to a late night walk that you had never once crossed paths with a vampire. Perhaps you were just lucky.

You kicked a rock sullenly as you wished you had offered to help or just gave him your number or actually done something to show your interest. It just never seemed to be the right time.

Before you knew it you had been walking in circles, wrapped up in your own regret. Your eyes hadn’t moved from the pavement and that was how you had managed to turn the corner and bump straight into him again. And his group of younger friends.

“It’s, Y/n, isn’t it? We appear to keep meeting at the wrong times” He joked, referencing the coffee incident and now, the life or death situation. Easily comparable, of course.

He knew your name. Perhaps it was a potential concussion from knocking into him but you were in a daze at the fact that he had spoken your name. Your name on such heavenly lips. You smiled softly as he introduced himself, though hurriedly, as Giles had a Slayer to save.

You had caught them coming back from meeting Genevieve Holt. Who had ran the frat house when it had been a children’s home. Now, it was just haunted by poltergeists and drunken regrets. Seemingly, because she had punished them for sexual thoughts, the lust brought in by the Slayer and her boyfriend had ignited something and the repressed energy in the house was now releasing.

“Do you know how to help two people compelled to have lots of sex?” One of the very blunt teenagers asked. You later found out she was over a thousand years old.

“Maybe give them a condom, I don’t know” You shrugged, looking a little embarrassed when you realised you had said that out loud. But by the amused looks on their faces you needn’t have been embarrassed.

“They are feeding the energy of once repressed spectres which now haunt the house. The, ah, sex acts as a sort of battery that will inevitably run out. Thus, ending the lives of the two at the centre” Giles explained. Which left the group silent again for a moment as they thought of the potential that their friends may die.

“Oh then maybe a spell or some kind of exorcism…” you said, your face thankfully not betraying how absurd you felt in this sudden situation.

Your usual shy nature had been pushed down, you wanted to help. So you tried your very best to muster up all of the confidence that you possessed. 

The discussion became urgent as you followed the others to Giles’ home. You didn’t catch the glint in his eye as he saw that you were joining them. You couldn’t very well just tell them to have a good evening and that you hoped that their friends didn’t die in some sex related haunting now could you? Giles muttered something about a book that he needed to help you all summon the poltergeists and try and make it so that this Buffy and Riley they spoke about had a chance at survival.

“You want the Salem Codex, it has a better translation” You said suddenly and Giles nodded, reaching for the exact book you had just mentioned.

“Check out walking encyclopaedia here”

“I thought you said that you had no experience with demons?”

“I don’t, I’m just well-read” You shrugged again, but Giles’ eyes hadn’t left your form. He was in awe of you. You had a lot of downtime and you liked reading, what can you say? You had been gifted a lot of books on magic by your cousin’s ex. The demon you had never actually met. Doyle or something.

He was growing to enjoy your company, even the brief moments you had spent with him here. Your love of knowledge, the way that you were so calm even under the pressure of trying to save someone’s life. Even though you had always appeared shy before. And you had thrown yourself into helping without even considering backing away. You were a good person.

But he had to quickly snap himself out of it so that he could find the correct spell. While he did so and Tara and Willow joined you to summon the ghosts that haunted Lowell house, Xander and Anya went to go and try and save their friends.

You had always been a little nervous about trying spells. Of course you thought it was cool and you didn’t doubt the existence of it. You were just a little cautious.

You joined them, reciting the words and standing close to Giles. You tried very hard not to be distracted by the proximity, this was very important after all. You settled by just stealing a few side glances as he set up the table you were all stood around.

Tara and Willow looked at each other as they sensed the power that you had added to the circle. Nobody mentioned anything, you all kept on task. You gasped when the ghosts appeared, it was unlike anything you had ever seen. You felt it, their lives, their pain.

The witches tried to speak to the ghosts, to reason with them. However, before the exorcism could be finished the table in the centre of the room was thrown across the room and the children had disappeared just as quickly as they had arrived. You just hoped that it would be enough.

After some pacing and waiting to find out if you had given Xander and Anya enough time to reach their friends. You eventually received a call to say that Buffy and Riley were safe but wholly ungrateful for everything you had all done to help them.

Giles smiled at you, he had been observing you closely as you waited. You were incredibly attractive and clearly more powerful than even you realised. As you left the two women and Giles invited tyou to his house, with the red haired one giving him a meaningful look, you started to realise what had just happened.

You had done magic! You had actually helped save someone’s life! It was exhilarating and scary and so many things all rolled into one. Especially as by this portion of the night you would usually have been long since curled up with a book.

“That was probably one of the strangest nights of my life” You admitted once you were sat in his living room with a warm drink in hand. His fingers had lingered on the cup as he passed it to you, grazing yours. It was like electricity sparking between you.

“It was one of the milder perils in this town” He commented, shaking his head and smiling in that way that brightened up his entire face. You were trying your very best not to just stare at him and make him uncomfortable. But it was so hard, he was so fucking good looking.

There was a short silence, where Giles was debating whether to ask if you would like to see him again. You were everything he had ever wanted. And more. He envisioned spending a lot of time with you in his future. However, you had been filling up with all the unsaid things that you had wanted to tell him. And they all finally exploded from your mouth as you beat him to it.

“I- I really like you and I was thinking that perhaps we could go and get a drink together, not that this drink isn’t nice it’s fine – great! It’s really great it’s actually my favourite but I was thinking that perhaps we could actually go out and maybe not a date if you aren’t into that sort of thing but I would just really, really like to get to know you and it would be so good to-”

You hadn’t stopped for a breath but you had been quickly cut off by the man you were attempting to invite on a date as he pressed his lips to yours. He had smiled at your words, you could feel it in his kiss. You reached for him, deepening the kiss and trying to figure out if you were dreaming or not. His cologne enveloped you as you ran a hand through his hair, lips moving against his in such deep and unwavering display of affection. It was as if you were made for each other. It just felt so right.

You tried not to think about the whining noise you made when he slowly pulled back from the kiss, allowing you to take a much needed breath. He leaned against you, humour still in his eyes at your outburst. His eyes closed slowly, as if he were saving this image to memory before he moved to your ear.

“I hope you don’t think me too forward, I have wanted to kiss you since the moment my eyes met yours in the crowd six months ago” He whispered in your ear, then pressed a kiss against your cheek.

You were speechless, unable to explain anything or remember even what your name was, you just reached for him again. Showing him how much you appreciated his ‘forwardness’ by initiating another kiss.

#Rupert Giles #Giles #Giles x reader #Rupert Giles x reader #Giles x you #Giles imagine #Rupert Giles x you #Rupert Giles imagine #btvs #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #btvs x you #buffy the vampire slayer imagine

[italoniponic]

Hello hello! May i request the shy but kind s/o with trey, jade and rook? (As you can see i LOVE the vice dorm leaders but ik the limits three so i chose my top 3 😁) also thank you! And i think you deserve like- a million followers- cuz yr writing is top tier chefs kiss 👌

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

| Notes: Hi, anon! Don’t worry! Humm… I see that you choose the “top3 sneakiest and shadiest vice leaders” from Idia’s list lmao And we continue with the saga of the shy kind reader~ In case some readers want more, there’s one for Deuce and other for Jack, Leona, Azul. I’ll make special masterlists for repeated tropes at the end of the event. I really like Trey and writing his was literally sweet but I just had so much fun writing Rook’s! He’s the weirdest of the weirdos but he amuses me. Thanks for the request <3 |

Trey Clover, Jade Leech, Rook Hunt x g!n shy but kind reader / headcanons / fluff / crush to lovers / (half) vice dorm leaders / use of “you” pronouns

Cherry’s Harvesting event 🍒 Masterlist

Gentle Lover

Trey knew you would be good company from the first moment he saw you. Unlike the other students who caused chaos even when they tried to avoid it — you know exactly who he’s talking about — your quieter, more shy personality stood out to him. Which was funny because you didn't used to like attracting attention to yourself;

Trey could understand that. He liked to act like a normal boy and as much as his life had always been relatively ordinary, he was considered the “quiet and proper student” of the class wherever he went. Both that and that classic “big brother” that others can rely on. Trey is reserved but, not necessarily shy or introspective;

When you talk together, it's like baking a cake. Ingredient by ingredient, stirring the dough gently and with a certain dexterity. Trey didn't pressure you to talk more than you liked and there was this implicit feeling that you were free to call it a day and do whatever you wanted after a good small talk. He would understand perfectly;

But ironically, it only made you spend even more time talking to him. Trey also noticed over time that you had a gentle side and even when your shyness was a hindrance, you didn't fail to help others and be helpful. This impression was intensifying more and more;

Before Trey could realize it, he was in love. It was like finding the perfect cherry to put on the cake he was preparing. Such a good, comfortable and sweet feeling. Trey found himself thinking for the first time about something that didn’t involve flour, sugar and stopping Riddle from guillotining the entire dorm;

He handled the situation with the utmost calm. There was no reason to act weird and if he suddenly got shy, you'd get it wrong — as happens in the teen movies Cater insists on recommending to Trey and forces him to watch. Not that Trey considers himself a movie-worthy protagonist but, one way or another, it was better to act normally;

But Trey is never prepared for the way you smile when he greets you as you walk in the hallways or when you visit Heartslabyul. You give a restrained nod but your smile is graceful and warm. It's like someone kneading Trey’s heart on a table, making it beat violently. But he is quick to pull himself together and smile at you back;

It took Trey a while to think of a way to declare himself to you, but in the end, he chose to make one of your favorite foods and leave a little note with the words “I love you”. Despite all the compliments that others give him, Trey doesn't consider himself the most skilled with words and he just wanted to make his feelings clear and easy to understand;

And so it was. You were so surprised but at the same time so happy that your love for Trey was reciprocated that you put the food aside just to hug him. It was a sudden but strong hug. Full of gratitude and affection, in a way that the gesture managed to be more complete than the best-crafted poetry;

Trey already expected that being your boyfriend would be a unique experience, even more so because it seemed that he only stayed friends with strange and eccentric people. Well, sometimes you could be one of those people deep down — actually, someone just like him. That made Trey laugh;

One of the things Trey likes to do with you is cooking. Whether he teaches you, whether you do something together, it’s a time of calm and tranquility. You are a perfect sous-chef, helpful and partner for all hours. Trey enjoys those little moments when you smile, always surprising him with yet another of your secret wonders.

You see, the ocean is the home to all kinds of fishes and creatures. Some more courageous and daring, others more shy and taciturn. The size of these fishes, in general, has a special role in how much they are willing to take risks in the sea — the same as extroverts in the real world; 

But regardless of size, you had the shyness of a little fish and Jade had everything to be the big fish, not only for his height but for the subtle way he inflicted fear on people. At first, you didn't have a very different reaction. Every time Jade passed by you, it was as if he had come out of the depths of nowhere and shock your heart;

It was a joy for Jade to see how your eyes could double in size every time you recognized his presence and the way you tripped over yourself and your own words when trying to talk to him. However, when he needed help with something, you were there to offer support. Always. Against all the odds, you mustered the courage to extend your hand to him;

Just like the time Jade was taking his pharmaceutics project to Prof. Crewel, which consisted of two terrariums from different families of fungi that he crossed. But the terrariums were reasonably large and you, passing by, worried that he was taking it all himself. Taking a deep breath, you approached him and half muttering, half gesticulating, you showed yourself willing to take the second terrarium to Jade;

No matter the good deed, you didn't bother to ask for anything in return. Even though being quite shy and talking to people wasn't your forte, you were always kind to others. Truly kind. Jade had no idea that someone consciously helping him and smiling in such a sweet way could make his heart feel as light as a bubble;

There was no more natural course but Jade ended up falling in love with you little by little. He managed to get closer to you over time, talking and sharing some of the thoughts that most of the time he hid. Obviously, not all on the same day. It was an equivalent exchange between you, one and the other opening up more day after day;

If being shy gives you any advantage, it's having that comfortable air of someone who can listen to people. The beginning was of slow development because this was also the role that Jade played in any conversation. He was naturally trained to guide people into a false sense of security to hear their deepest secrets. And you were... very difficult in that matter;

But the feeling of comfort you conveyed was genuine and won his heart with the dexterity of a good fisherman. Jade didn't realize it — it was Azul who commented on it — but he always smiled when he was next to you, listening to you talk very quietly about your opinions. A real smile, long and sweet. The kind of smile usually reserved for his mushrooms;

To your infinite surprise, the romantic feelings you developed for Jade were reciprocal and, in the words of the merman himself, you dominated him as no one has ever done and never would. That was said to make your heart fail for a brief moment and your shocked reaction was exactly what Jade expected. Oh, you just started dating and you already made him that happy!;

There is a silver lining to having a big fish as a boyfriend: other people are more afraid to pick on you. No matter where or when, Jade knows when others make some derogatory comment about your shyness — and woe betide them. Jade is for sure that person who in any establishment usually makes the requests that you whispered in his ear and corrects the waiters when they don’t understand what you said;

If you want a little encouragement to improve your speech or open up to people, Jade is there for it. He is a natural communicator and would be happy to help you. But in general, Jade cherishes a lot for your sweet and shy way of being, a precious anemone that he will take care of with all his affection.

If there was one thing Rook liked almost as much as admiring people’s beauty, it was contemplating their personalities. The world has a variety of people just like a tree and its thousands of leaves — similar but not necessarily the same. Even people of similar temperament weren’t like twins, perfect copies of each other;

Rook had already met several shy people and yet, you stood out among them in a very special way. Although he tried to explain it to you, you didn't quite understand. In fact, Rook’s pompous, eccentric and eloquent nature scared you a little at first. You never knew what to say to him and hearing him compliment you in a thousand ways didn't help much;

Invariably, you ran away from him as a frightened and smart dove runs away from a hunter. That only increased Rook’s interest in you. The circumstances of how you had stopped in that unknown world, the secrets you hid, your likes and fears, the words you wanted to say but never escaped the gates of your lips. He wanted to know everything!;

In his free time, Rook liked to watch you from afar, watching your interaction with the world around you. You carried with you the shaking feelings of shyness, but the real gentleness of a noble heart. Your sparrow’s song — as Rook affectionately called your occasional stutter — was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard;

Rook always made a point of greeting you when he passed you — visibly and not behind a bush. At first, you were scared, but over time, it became part of your routine. You would wave and nod at Rook back, sometimes managing to smile a little. You had no idea how much it melted his heart. And melted him too, as Rook throws himself at whoever was passing near him to hold him as he absorbed your kind response;

Eventually, when Rook struck up a conversation, you could answer him with a little more than five short words. Rook was an absolute gentleman with you, always courteous and gentle. And also sincere support in the small and big things. Even when faced with your flaws, his words were far from being rude or ironic. In fact, he gave you a little hope to keep trying to improve;

Your kindness to others is the central theme of most of the poetry Rook writes about you — and recites in the direction of your room in Ramshackle, so you can hide your flushed face and your reactions, and give him even more material to eloquently lament about how he can't reach you in that moment. An absolute mad lad but you're falling in love with him too;

During walks around the school, Rook often gives up his own hat so you can hide your face in it while you talk. He cannot restrain himself from praising and courting you whenever he gets the chance, swearing by the superiority of your inner and outer beauty above any other. You really can’t help but hide yourself behind that feather hat;

Rook definitely confessed his deep love for you in front of the Beautiful Queen’s statue during the most magnificent sunset you had ever seen. He told you that, according to some legends, the Queen was shy and reserved like you when she was young. But she has learned to combine her beauty and intelligence to overcome her obstacles;

Rook is confident in your potential and admires you in every way, even if you only advance little by little. He’ll be by your side at all times, being your moral support and a right-arm that you can hold on to to keep yourself on your feet. His faithfulness is immutable and absolute. It’s the first time you see him so confident and determined to swear his love only to you;

Rook is a fairly understandable boyfriend and respects your development time above everything. No matter how long it takes for you two to kiss, hold hands, or do anything, Rook is pleased to know that you love him back. Your small gestures of kindness and love are what make him happiest.

#twisted wonderland #trey clover #trey clover x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst headcanons #shy but kind reader #cherry's writing #cherry's harvesting

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [5]

chapter five, act one: antichrist

October 15th 2012

Tommie sighs as she drops herself down onto the old crooked chair at the table, rubbing between her brows, her glasses on top of her head. George looks up from his laptop where he’s working on a demo and Ross glances from the work he’s looking over.

“What’s wrong?”

She shrugs, drawing shapes into the wooden table, stained with cups rings and cigarette burns, “Just… long day.”

“Tell me about it.” Ross mutters, adjusting his glasses on the edge of his nose.

“Hey, how come us two are the only ones with jobs and you three get to roam around all day doing nothing.”

George pauses looking up, “Us three are making music.”

She shrugs, “Ross and I make the music too, I help with lyrics, he does bass all alone.”

Ross nods quickly, “Yeah, we go to work, slave away all day, then come home to have to put up with you lot.”

“Yeah.” She echos, nodding as they both sit side by side staring at George across the table.

“Well, look at it on the bright side, we have a month before the album is finished, then a further two months until it's out, then we’re touring for months, you two can quit and live off the money of the people.”

The pair slowly look at each other, “Three months?”

“Yes.”

“If any old ladies come in and shout at me the way they did today, I’m quitting on the spot.”

“Okay.”

“If she quits, I quit.”

“Then we won’t have an income.”

“We’ll sell pictures.” Ross shrugs.

She nods, “Of our feet.”

George rolls his eyes, trying to hold back his grimace, “Just, three months. Okay?”

She nods slowly, “Okay.”

Ross subtly high fives her under the table, as if they didn’t plan this over text ten minutes before she got home.

Out of the five living in the house they’re the only two left working, Matty and George quit almost two months ago, and Adam, a week ago so he could start focusing on helping with the last bits of the album.

Right now, both Adam and Matty are going over the new album design with an artist and Jamie, who has now taken on the role of manager for the band.

“When’d you get that?”

She looks down at her arm, the new tattoo staring back at her, it’s a little pair of cowboy boots.

“Yesterday. Roddy and I got bored.” 

“How many is that?”

“Nine.”

She looks across her arms taking note of the little ones she can see, a quote from her poetry book, ‘I love you, don’t you mind?. Arctic Monkeys humbug logo, an old vintage looking frame on her left arm, the exact same spot that the box sits on her right just above her ‘the 1975’ tattoo. She also has a ‘the strokes’ logo on her left arm, 505 on her wrist, with three little stars on her waistline, dipping just below her underwear.

“You two have an issue.”

“Talk to the penguin, Ross.” She mutters, turning back to her little leather book and jotting down some ideas.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

November 2nd

“Baby…” There’s a pause, and she blinks into the darkness thinking she’d heard it, “Tommie…Tom!”

She stumbles out of bed, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as she opens her bedroom door, “Roddy, what’s wrong?”

He tosses a hoodie from a pile of pillows and blankets he’s holding then steps into her room, “What are you doing?”

“You have the fire escape room, we’re going outside.”

“You could’ve just gone out if you wanted a smoke, don’t wake me-”

“No, come with me, please.”

She sighs leaning over to check the time on her phone, 1:02 am. 

She follows him out as he goes outside but pauses when he starts moving up, “Where are you going?”

“To the roof, we can see the stars better.”

“We’re in the city, Roddy, you can’t see the stars, dead remember?”

“Just,” He sighs, reaching a hand blindly behind him until she grabs a hold of it, “Come on.”

When they get up there he drags two deck chairs to the one wall and wraps a blanket around himself, passing the other to her when she settles down.

He plucks a joint form behind his ear, showing it to her with a grin as he fishes in the pocket of his pyjama bottoms for a lighter.

“Want some?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never…”

He shrugs, placing it between his lips as he starts lighting it, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out away from her. 

He tilts his head back to stare at the dark sky, she’s right. There’s not a single star in sight, just the moon.

“Okay.”

He turns to look at her, “Okay?”

“Give me some.”

He raises a brow and shifts his deck chair closer to hers, holding it out to her, she goes to snatch it but he brings it back, “Don’t be so eager.”

She sends him an unimpressed look and he grins as he leans over, his other hand holds the back of her neck, angling her head towards him as the other presents the joint to her.

“Inhale.”

She wraps her lips around it, breathing in deeply, when the smoke hits her lungs she coughs and he laughs rubbing her back, “You Hanns. Adam reacted like that too.”

She shoves him away when he teasingly pinches her arm and takes it from him to try again, this time it’s much easier and she turns to blow the smoke in his face, still coughing a little as she giggles.

“I can’t do it.”

He looks down at it then back at her again, “Come here.”

“What?”

“Just, come here.”

She scoots her chair closer but he shakes his head, “No, Tommie, come here.”

He pats his lap and she raises a brow, he leans over catching her hand and tugging it slightly.

She doesn’t give him the complete satisfaction of sitting in his lap, she forces herself into the tiny gap on the big chair, forcing him to close his legs that were once laying open.

“This’ll be easier.”

“What will?”

“To take it down,” He says, clearing his throat a little awkwardly, “But if you don’t want to, you don’t- you don’t have to do it. If-”

“I’ll do it.”

“Yeah?”

She shrugs then nods, “You guys, you do it all the time. And Adam never lets me, I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

He nods quickly, lifting the joint back up between them, his free hand playing with some strands of her hair. Wrapping the red hair around his finger then letting it unravel again.

“Do it, Matt.”

“If you don’t feel-”

“Just do it.”

He nods, dropping her hair and cupping her cheek, using his thumb to tilt her chin down towards him. His other hand lifts, breathing in the joint and then cupping her face, the rolled up joint brushing her cheek as he brings her mouth to his.

He taps her cheek with one finger and she breathes in slowly, his free hand travels back to her neck, massaging the nape slowly as he pushes her closer.

She finally moves her hands from where they’d been folded in her lap, one threading through his hair the other fisting his hoodie.

She shifts when his tongue meets hers, straddling his lap, when he presses forward with a groan she pulls back, hand sliding through his to snatch the joint from him and take a long drag.

She giggles when she sees his face, eyes wide and lips red, he tries following her lips for another kiss.

When she tries pulling back he reaches up for another kiss, hand on her neck pulling her down as she blows the smoke into his mouth.

It continues like that for almost an hour, sharing ‘kisses’ under the stars, passing the joint back and forth until eventually they’re quiet. 

Tommie is curled up beside him, tucked under his arm, his pinky brushing across her forehead and down her nose, her legs curled over his lap.

He starts humming under his breath and she groans, “Please, stop-”

“What?”

He laughs knowing they both aren’t the best fans of the singer, “Look, it’s a shit song-”

“It’s about his dead son.”

She shrugs, “It’s still shit, isn’t it though?”

“If I was Clipton,” He breaks off in a giggle, “If I was Cl-A-pton, right here, what would you say to me.”

She sits up and turns to him then clears her throat, “Sorry that your kid’s dead, but work on your music.”

She falls back against his chest, “It’s not a good song, I’m sorry, I just- I don’t like it. Besides, he’s an arsehole, he’s a bad- a bad person. He’s like,” She lowers her voice to a whisper, “A racist.”

Matty giggles suddenly as he stares at the moon peeking through the clouds, “If you-” He pauses and groans as he adjusts in the chair, hand settling on her calve, rubbing up and down through her Star Wars pyjama bottoms, “If you could have anything in the whole world- no universe what would it be?”

“Right now?”

“Mhm.”

“Garlic bread.”

She closes her eyes and breathes in deeply, “I really want garlic bread. But like, the little dough ball cheese ones,” She turns her head to look at him, chin resting on his shoulder, “What about you?”

“The moon.”

Her hands run through his hair, scratching at his scalp causing him to let out a content sigh as his eyes fall shut, “Mmm, that’s nice.” He leans further into her, “Nana used to do that.”

Her hands move slower at that, and he relaxes even more mumbling out an ‘i miss her’.

She smiles, head awkwardly leaning on his shoulder from her position, “If I could give you the moon, Matty, I would give you the moon.”

“Well,” He stands, stretching his arm, “We can’t get the moon, but we can get garlic bread.”

“Right now?” He nods, tugging her up by both arms, “It's two in the morning.”

“Don’t care, let's go.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

November 27th

Tommie rolls over in bed, she watches the time change, slowly the number one changes to a 2 and then there’s the familiar knock.

1:02am.

“Baby?”

She grins to herself, every night at one Matty gets out of bed, gathers himself some blankets and hoodies, and forces her to the window and up to the roof with him.

She opens the door, acting as if he’s awoken her for the third week in a row and not that she’s been lying away for the past three hours waiting.

“No wait,” He grabs her arm before she can push open the window and stops her from walking over, “Don’t wanna smoke today,” He looks down, cheeks tinting slightly, “Can we just… stay here?”

She hums, sleepily rubbing her eyes and falling back onto her bed, he stands there awkwardly, his usual bundle of fluffy blankets in his arms.

She lifts her head to look up at him, “You getting in?”

He nods quickly, kicking his slippers off and throwing the blankets on top of her. He folds his glasses up, placing them besides her on top of the closed record player she uses as a bedside table. He smiles as he looks at the two pairs, his squared frames and her curled ones side by side on top of books, notebooks and a mess of other things.

Then he lays down on his back, looking over at her as she adjusts to sleep on her right side. “You wanna watch a film?”

“Hmm?”

“A film?” He asks again, “I can get the DVD player in here. Instead of dragging the tele in in the middle of the night.”

She nods, “Sure.” Her face pressed into the pillow, eyes closed as she sighs.

He jumps back out, runs to his room and slows down when his ears are met with the snores of his roommate. He quietly creeps back in, pulls the box out from under the bed then grabs the old DVD players and a DVD.

He runs back, closing the door softly and smiling even softer when he sees her spread across the bed.

“Tommie.”

“Hmm?”

“If you want to sleep we can just do that.”

She shakes her head, “I’m awake.” She sits up on her elbows a little, “But a fag might wake me up a bit.”

He smiles as he moves to crack the window a little before getting in under the piles of blankets and digging into his pockets for his cigarette packets.

He takes one out and she looks up, opening her mouth and he twirls it around to place it between her lips. He takes the lighter out of the almost empty packet and then lifts it up, cupping over the cigarette to light it.

“What film you got?”

“True Romance.”

She rolls her eyes, “Don't roll your eyes at me, you’ve never seen it.”

“Yeah, but I know what happens from the amount of shit you talk.”

He smiles sheepishly then leans back against the pillows as he sets the player up, “Just… watch.”

“Mhmm.”

She looks at him in the corner of her eyes. Smiling as she watches him quote the few opening lines, his mouth moving but no sound actually coming out.

He feels her gaze and looks over, “What?”

“Nufin’.”

“Nothing?” He asks and she nods, smiling to herself again, he raises a brow and reaches to steal the cigarette from her hands, “Quit looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” She asks, shifting to slide further under the quilt.

“Like that.” He says quietly, passing the cigarette back to her.

“Watch the film, Matthew.”

And watch the film they do, she stays quiet for the rest of it, and he looks over everytime a good part comes on to see her reaction.

When it finally ends, the credits rolling, at least three cigarettes now in the dr pepper can she uses as an ashtray, and the window has since closed.

“What did you think?”

“It was good.”

“Just good?”

“Yeah, it was good. I didn’t hate it.”

He scoffs, “That is the best film ever made. It has everything, romance, action, drugs…”

“You want a good movie?” He nods, “Barnyard.”

“The cow film?”

“It's good.” She defends, pushing his shoulder when he raises a brow at her.

“It's a cartoon.”

“Still good.”

He shakes his head, muttering about her terrible movie choices as he gets up to put the DVD player away, by the time he does the twenty second task and returns to the bed she’s curled up on her side, blinking up at him lazily.

“After a good movie,” Matty says quietly, turning his head to look at her when he finally settles again, “Usually I kiss the pretty girl I’m with, you know, kind of a tradition I have.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His word is whispered quietly as his hand moves to push some hair from her face.

She lets her eyes drift around his face, taking in every little freckle, every little scar and indent on his face.

“You want some pie?”

She giggles but pushes herself forward to meet his lips, hands threading through his curly hair at the back to bring him closer.

He moves closer, sliding on top of her, pinning her down with his weight, hands either side of her head.

He lifts his thigh between hers, one hand moving to cup her jaw, pushing her face upwards with his thumb so he can kiss down her neck.

“Roddy?”

“Hmm?” He doesn’t move, pulling at the neck of the jumper to kiss down to her collar bone.

“Can we-” She swallows and avoids looking down at him, and at his lustful eyes that watch the way her chest stutters when he kisses the right spot, “Can we stop?”

His head is lifting immediately, thigh moving to give her space, “Y-Yeah, Tommie, I never-”

“No, no, don’t think it’s your fault, Matt. I’m just too tired. It's three in the morning.”

“Are you sure?” He asks quickly, moving so he’s laying on his side beside her, “If I did anything to make you uncomfortable-?”

“No,” She shakes her head and moves over to cuddle into his side, “You make me comfortable, Roddy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He leans back into the pillows, letting her lean her head on his shoulder as his arm wraps around her, “I’ve never-” She breaks herself off with a yawn, “Never kissed anyone before.”

“Liar.” He declares quietly into the darkness of the room.

“I’m serious.” She tiredly giggles, “Never even held hands with a boy.”

He lifts his other hand to play with her hair, twirling it around and tugging softly, “You’re a very good kisser.”

“Mm?”

“Mhhm.”

He sighs and looks up at the ceiling, leaning his head against hers, nose brushing her hair line, smelling the shampoo from the shower she’d had just before bed.

“I sleep better here,” Matty mutters as he wraps her red hair around his finger, “With you.”

He lets the hair unravel before picking a new strand to do it again, “My mind doesn't have to work as hard. When you’re here I just… just focus on you. Just you.”

taglist @thereisaplaceintheheart @indierockgirrl

-let me know if you want to be added :)

#matty healy x reader #matty healy x oc #the 1975 x oc #the 1975 imagine #matty healy imagine #matty healy x bandmateoc #show me yours matty healy

[noforkingclue]

Hello! Can you write a Dark!Morpheus x reader where they tell the story of the most popular myth of how to sandman courted the primordial being of love (the reader) by inspiring artists to write songs,books and ballads in attempts to woo her in a sort of Persephone and hades sort of way if that makes sense .it work and they are seen as like THE couple and Morpheus is just head over heals worshipping the ground she walks on both then and now and reader obviously adore him as well.maybe they have a few kids?

So I focused more on the darker side of this request and I didn't include the bit about children. Hope you don't mind and enjoy the fic!

Title: A Story

Warnings: dark fic

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

Are you sitting comfortably?

Good.

Then let me begin my tale of the Lord of Dreams and the Goddess of Love.

A burning, passionate love story that has lasted longer than this world has been around. It wasn’t often that another being captured the Dream Lord’s attention and yet this Goddess had done just that. Her siblings and fellows Gods and Goddess had warned her about the power and danger of the Endless but she paid them no heed.

And that, my listeners, was to be her undoing.

So, I hear you ask, how did he manage to court the reclusive Goddess?

You see, the answer is quite simple- by inspiring the humans that she cared so much about.

Dreams of inspiration is what he gave to the humans. Poetry, books, paintings, plays, all of this he provided for the humans. To shower each other in declarations of love that they otherwise would not have said. They had the ideas but he provided them with the ways of putting them into words.

That’s how he got the attention of the Goddess.

How happy she was that her humans and how charmed by the Dream Lord despite the continuous warnings from those around her. Of course this didn’t go unnoticed by the humans. Myths and legends sprung up about the two of you. How the God of Dreams gifted human s with divine inspiration to court the one he loves the most. These were the myths that humans needed the most. In hard times these were the myths the humans turned to the most. All other relationships paled in comparison to theirs. You see, there was no drama or fighting between them. Just love.

Ah, I see your cynical smile and perhaps you’re right.

In fact, there is no ‘perhaps’ about it.

You see, these were stories created by human and-

Oh. I see you’ve already clocked it.

The Dream Lord inspired the humans who created the stories…

Yes, you’re correct, how do we know these stories are fact or fiction? But that’s the same with any myth isn’t it? The lines between what happened and what is made up is often blurred and that is the case with this. Humans are romantics are heart.

The truth is, yes the Dream Lord did inspire humans and that did captivate the Love Goddess. However, the Dream Lord asked too much of the little Goddess. He wanted her to reside in the Dreaming with him. To leave her family and become completely his. To never walk among the humans again. To have his heirs and to never mention her old life outside the Dreaming.

And she didn’t bend to his commands.

You ok? Oh, you don’t like how this story is turning out? I’m afraid things rarely turn out how people want them to.

Now, there’s something else you should know about the Dream Lord. It isn’t just dreams that he controls.

It’s also nightmares.

At her refusal the human were plagued with horrific nightmares. The Endless are older and more powerful than the Gods, even the ancient ones. The more the Goddess refused his affections the worse the nightmares became. Until she agreed to meet, to relieve the humans pain and suffering at the hands of the one she thought she could trust.

But when it came time to meet she couldn’t face him. The trust that had been built up had long since gone. So she did the only thing she thought she could do.

She ran.

She disappeared from existence. None of the other Gods or the Endless knew where she had gone or if they did they didn’t let the Dream Lord know. The Dream Lord searched endlessly for his little Goddess but he couldn’t find her. He even couldn’t find her dreams, the mind he used to enjoy spending so much time in.

Which brings us up to now.

The Dream Lord has escape the prison where he was held for one hundred years. With all that time he’s done quite a bit of think and from what I hear he’s determined to find his Goddess. This time, nothing is going to stand in his way.

Hmm?

What’s that?

What does this Goddess look like?

Heh.

My dear, just look in a mirror and you shall see. Surely you don’t think of me as stupid?

Pleasant dreams and good luck.

#fanfiction #the sandman #sandman #reader insert #request #sandman x reader #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus #morpheus x reader

[carlgrimesloverr]

sk8erboi

aaron hotchner x fem!super star!reader

summary : when aaron’s ex girlfriend releases a diss-album about him and haley, he’s left with nothing to do but confront her, and tell her loves her, and divorce haley… right?

takes place during : season 1

warnings : this is 100% a sequel to sk8ergirl and i recommend you read that first (#selfpromo😜🤞). also this is some seriously shitty poetry on my half i’m sorry i just get in the feels sometimes. aaron also is lowkey toxic ⁉️

word count : 1,194

“you still released it, even though you’re alone.” hotch hummed to himself, continuing to search you up. single. never married. no kids. doesn’t party much. still went out skating constantly. said in an interview you were ‘still caught in the whirlwind romance of high school’. caught in the ‘betrayal of it all’. you really were the sk8ergirl, weren’t you?

what would you do if hotch reached out? you had left a business email on your website - it would take a fool for you not to recognize aaron’s email address. you weren’t a fool.

would you be upset at the man for so recklessly reaching out? angry that after all these years he finally wanted to talk after he was the one who cut contact?

or would you be happy? so happy you’d want to meet him?

‘can we meet for coffee? - AHH’

god how aaron wishes you would recognize his email.

you did. of course you did.

‘send me the details and i’ll be there.’ was that all you had to say? nothing more, nothing less? just a passive aggressive when and where?

but meeting you was meeting you, and aaron wouldn’t miss out on this chance.

yet, when he sat down across from you, he could see how much you had changed. he still remembered how you looked at graduation; sad, lonely, and angry. your hair was a mess. you had bags under your eyes you tried to hide with concealer. you nearly forgot your cap and gown. you didn’t stay afterwards for photos.

now? you looked healthy. happy. put together. but still angry. yet, the angry was more hidden, more managed. you had gotten out most of your anger.

“hotchner.” you smiled, not making eye contact and instead staring down at your coffee.

“hi-“ he suddenly was at a loss for words. what do you say to the person you betrayed? “i’m sorry, for what i did to you back then.”

“don’t go there. don’t bring that up now, aaron. i’ve moved on. i’ve accepted it. you were supposed to be different… we were supposed to be different, but we weren’t.” you sighed, taking in the disheveled male before you. had he not been sleeping? working too much? not going home? he looked like hell.

“but you wrote those songs-“

“i’m a musician, aaron, it’s my job.” you groaned, rolling your eyes and you slumped down in your seat. “honestly, are you that surprised i wrote music about my life? aren’t you some fbi big shot now? didn’t you see it coming?”

“i never thought- what you wrote was disrespectful. to both me and my wife. i’m here to tell you that.”

you let out a choked laugh, eyes wide in disbelief. “that’s what you’ve come here to say? pathetic honestly.”

aaron went stiff, for some reason fueled by rage. you released a diss-track about him yet you were calling him pathetic? “you can’t always be the victim! you should know that.”

you let out a fake gasp, feigning hurt. “big bad aaron hotchner got his feelings hurt? poor baby.” you teased him, grinning ear to ear.

you were enjoying this - making him squirm. you were happy you were getting under his skin.

“i’m sorry- is that what you want me to say? because i’m sorry.” aaron pleaded, eyes wide.

“no, aaron, you hurt me. you hurt me in ways i can’t even begin to explain.” you spat back, anger filling your eyes as you stared across the table at the male. “i don’t know how i feel, and i do not ever want to know what it is.”

“tell me how i hurt you and i’ll fix it. i’ll do anything!”

“for four years you made me believe you loved me, but you didn’t. and keeping a love in which is not meant to be yours hurts worse more anything else out there. and there is no fixing that pain.”

you were right. of course you were. everything you had said so far was right. so why was he so upset?

“did you just forget everything we shared?” aaron mumbled, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to understand himself. he had no right to be upset, and he knew that.

“forgetting you, aaron, was easy - forgetting the memories is the hardest part. sometimes, i still hear your voice ringing through my head like a broken record i am unable to turn off.”

music references. god, you could never stay away from them could you?

“so you did forget it? all my encouragement, all my love, all of it?”

why was he so upset? you had every right to move on after the years of pain he put you through. yet he was still so upset.

“i remember everything you said to me as if i will stop breathing if i even try to forget. that is not fair to me aaron.”

you were right.

yet, you didn’t stop there. you kept speaking, so clearly angry and hurt by the males disrespect. “i wish with every fiber of my being i was what you wanted, because you were my every wish come true.”

you are everything he wanted, couldn’t you see that? the distressed look on his face, the hurt in his eyes, the downturn of his lips?

“i’m sorry.” was all he could manage to get out, unsure of what would set you off on another angry tangent or what would appease your anger.

“when you say ‘sorry’ it just hurts more… it was me who trusted you, it was me who gave you my heart, it was me who thought we would work out. but trust is such a nasty thing.”

“you’re right but- but don’t you miss it? miss us? because i do- all i have of you is memories. flashbacks that jolt me awake as i reach out for you. the songs we sang together that i listen to daily. i made a mistake, all those years ago. now i’m trying to fix it, so please, let me.”

“i hate the flashbacks. i hate the memories. i hate the songs we used to sing. i hate it all because it reminds me of you.” you grunted, standing up slightly as you went to leave.

you were done with him and his petty begging. the aaron hotchner you knew, you loved, left you that december night. cold, alone, confused. this wasn’t your aaron hotchner anymore. you lost him the same night he lost you.

“i miss you- i miss us. im miserable now, is that what you wanted to hear? i want you back.”

“i don’t miss you, i just miss the feeling i had when i was with you. you’re married now, aaron.” you paused slightly, testing out your next words in your head before speaking. “just like all good songs, we’ve come to an end - but this song will forever be my favorite. goodbye, aaron.”

and with that, you were gone. aaron had lost you like the leaves on a tree, like the petals on a flower, like the warmth of summer during the winter.

he had lost you for good this time.

#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner angst #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

[riseofamoonycake]

It escaped me the other day but I wanted to request if you will, a scenario of Jack playing piano underneath your pomegranate tree with Reader or you in this case sat beside him on the piano's stool on a nice bright night?

Something along that, yanno? Dunno why it's been stuck in my head ever since you mentioned the withering and the recent spin-off.

Please and thank you;

OH AND HOPE YOU'VE BEEN DOING WELL ASIDE THAT! 💕

@buddhaamitabha ♥️♥️♥️ you made me cry with this, in a beautiful way. This is the sweetest thing someone could ask me at this very time. Really thank you.

Your Song (Elegy)

🎶Pairing: Jack The Ripper x gn!reader

🎶Warnings: mention of death, angst

🎶

When you called Jack, in the long afternoon’s silence, you didn’t expect him to run by your side; but he did. He came, without interrupting or disrespecting the quietness of the place and the faint singing of the birds hidden on the trees nearby, he came with a sweet expression in his eyes and the arms open for you; because, somehow, he felt and sensed all the things you didn’t manage to explain in your call. Among all the people you know, this man is the only one who can understand you even on this ground.

You didn’t ask for him to stay with you and with your eyes full of void, staring at the old pomegranate tree that lives in the east corner of the garden; the sentinel of the dawn, the first to pray for the sun and thank for the new day… and the next to leave you. After long years of flowers, leaves, fruits and lives intertwined, the beautiful tree is dying and you can’t stop it; and you can’t even explain why.

«Do you find me crazy for this? Crying and mourning for the only presence that sheltered me for the entire existence, is this… forbidden? Is it strange?»

Jack didn’t answer you and your question, not by words; instead, he used his fingers, and with them his strength and creativity to take your piano (stool included) and put it through the door that leads to the garden without leaving a scratch on the musical instrument, place it under the pomegranate tree and start to fill the purple evening with something other than sobs.

You didn’t ask him to use his hands to fill the air with the sweetest tunes and weave your thoughts together, making a map of your tears and silences; but he did it anyway, and now you are sit next to him, the arms crossed on the piano lid and the head resting on top of them, your gaze all intent on cuddling your ancient, green friend. It won’t save your tree, it won’t stop anything: but to hear, see and feel neither you nor it are alone, especially knowing it this way, is something so sweet and powerful that even sadness has no power on it. It isn’t in the music, heavenly, full of light and magic; it is in the heart of who is playing, and in yours. Even if you aren’t ready to say goodbye to a part of your life, however you can accept to see it fade accompanied by this delicate poetry.

After all the songs in the honor of the dying sentinel, you watch Jack using the ax you lended him without seeing anything; the pomegranate tree falls to the ground without even a sound, it seems to lie down on the earth to rest and sleep in a motherly embrace, then the man caresses the trunk and slightly sighs, a smile on the face while he searches for and takes its last fruit into his hands and return to you to offer it. «This soil is full of nourishments», he whispers, sitting again next to you, «and even if this fruit’s seeds won’t bring back your pomegranate tree, there will be another one. And it will need your love.»

You accept the fruit, split it in two parts and share the constellations of red seeds with him, letting some of them fall on the ground and sink into the grass, then you lean your head against his shoulder. «Thank you for all of this.»

«Thank me? But… there is no need for it.»

«Are you sure? Nothing is owed, and whatever is given to us must be respected and honored. This is what I think, at least.»

Jack keeps silent for a while, then smiles and looks at the big silver moon kindly shining upon you and the quiet garden, then at you and at your colors. «Yes… I see it clearly», replies in a sweet murmur, staring at the beautiful shades you are emanating. A bit of sadness, a bit of gratitude, gentleness and hope. Right now, you are the entire power of Life. 

«It is real, Beauty lives with kindness…»

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror #snv #snv jack the ripper #ror jack the ripper #record of ragnarok jack the ripper #shuumatsu no valkyrie jack the ripper

[tenebraevesper]

The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog (My Thoughts)

Before I start with anything, I just have to let this out: I ADORE THIS GAME!!! It has no right to be so good and I genuinely want more of these kinds of games where we get to interact with more of the Sonic cast. All of them were written so well, with their own little quirks and the game is just pure fun. Honestly, I could probably go on and on about this, but I’ll just do a quick summary of some of my favorite character interactions before moving on to one character I had been anticipating the most. Spoilers are ahead!

The player character, whose name is apparently Barry the Quokka, is really fun and I adore his cave-loving and trash-searching quirks. Not to mention the ways of him dealing with “this group’s unhinged way of thinking”, trying to just go along with all the weirdness and fanboying over Sonic.

I also love his dynamic with Tails, who is the most adorable detective I’ve ever seen. Honestly, this whole thing gave me a lot of Ace Attorney vibes and I’m living for it.

...

Well, most adorable next to another of my favorite detectives:

If you never watched Detective Conan, I strongly suggest you do.

I gotta say, Tails’ reaction to Sonic being “murdered” is kind of raw...

...and then it crosses the line with Amy being excited that someone “murdered” Sonic.

Next, another character who really looks good in his outfit - Knuckles! I love that they gave him the cowboy hat, even if it’s not the same as the Sonic OVA (progress guys, progress) and he actually commits to the bit of a sheriff, at least for Amy, only to just drop it when Tails and Barry arrive. Oh, and him and Vector for the high score at the arcade game and Knuckles just punching it in frustration when Vector beat him. Honestly, who wouldn’t do that?

Following up, Espio and Vector. I loved how committed Espio was to his role as the poet, even if his poetry wasn’t exactly... the best (not to mention his outfit looks so fitting!). He really has this “He’s a bit confused, but he’s got the spirit!” vibe going on. Then there were other bits like the fact that Espio actually speed read through a book just to spoil the ending for Knuckles.

Then there’s Vector just defending Espio when he gets accused. Let’s be real here, Vector is Espio’s Dad and no one can change my mind.

Next are Blaze and Rouge, and I found it so hilarious that Rouge managed to rope Blaze, Tails and Barry into her heist of stealing the Fabergé Chao Egg and Blaze just goes along with it because it’s part of her character lore card.

Not to mention the whole bit with them thinking the egg is a bomb and trying to figure out what to do with it (spoilers!: it’s not a bomb). Superb comedy!

Next, we move on to Shadow, and I had been really anticipating how he’d be written in this story. My thoughts? Goddamn, this was the kind of character writing I’ve been begging for ages!

In the story, Shadow is quite suspicious due to locking all the doors in the train, with Amy, Tails and Barry interrogating him and Amy believing he “murdered” Sonic. Well, as it turns out, the reason he was locking the doors was because he was trying to keep Amy out of the Lounge Car (while also handing out keys to everyone else). Why?

He was just trying to use the computer and buy Amy concert tickets of her favorite band, Hot Honey, for her birthday. Like, how adorable is THAT?!

Shadow then admits that he had trouble with it, printing out the Hot Honey website on accident and that he isn’t the best with computers. He then proceeds to explain:

So to recap, Shadow really cares about Amy and he put effort into trying to get her a nice birthday present, even if he didn’t succeed. Not only that, but he had also agreed to come to Amy’s birthday party (dressed as a Starbucks Barista; yeah, we all know the joke) and even helped out Knuckles and Vector with the arcade game they had trouble figuring out (also signing his high score with “Ultim”).

Now tell me, with the way he had been written in the Sonic IDW comics...

...and the whole SEGA mandates thing going on, do you really think Shadow would act like that? Honestly, I don’t think so, which makes me believe that, even if it’s for a spin-off game, maybe they’re finally loosening up on Shadow’s character. Evan Stanley did mention that they want Shadow to be written more closer to his game counterpart and if they’re fine with him being characterized as he is in this spin-off game, then I’m all for it!

Also, seeing Shadow being flustered over being invited to the concert is frigging adorable... and maybe a reference to the Twitter Takeover? I mean, both are apparently Taylor Swift fans. Oh, and speaking of references:

I rest my case. I also had to screenshot this because... com’n!

I said it once and I’m saying it again, Shadow is so cute in this game!

Anyways, Shadow tags along with Tails, Amy and Barry to the Conductor Car, where they solve the mystery, calling everyone to hear what happened, but when they go to get Sonic, they realize that something is wrong.

When Sonic doesn’t respond, Shadow and Espio are the first to jump in to help him. Once again, this is the kind of writing I really wanted to see when it comes to Shadow’s character. He really cares about his friends.

Speaking of friends...

Yeah... I wouldn’t want to be Amy’s target when she’s in this kind of mood.

Speaking of target, it looks like Espio isn’t the only one who’s about to commit “murder”. Yes, spoilers for those who hadn’t played the game, Espio was the one who “murdered” Sonic, albeit by using a blowdart and drugging him. However, there is a twist to this mystery.

Yeah, as it turns out, not only is the train a Badnik, but everyone is en route to be delivered to Dr. Eggman.

Honestly, this is getting rather creepy, especially with the train holding everyone hostage like this.

The train then locks everything up, throwing Sonic and Barry into the Dining Car, with Eggman calling in and explaining this was all part of his plan. He promised that he would reward any Badnik who could deliver him Sonic and his friends, and the train Badnik took it upon itself to fulfill that.

Okay, can we just talk for a moment how Eggman has managed to make a train Badnik without anyone noticing? This is disturbing.

After Eggman turns the call off, Barry starts blaming himself for not telling anyone how he noticed that Sonic was genuinely injured, because if he did, this whole story could’ve been avoided.

Sonic cheers him up, pointing out how it is easy to question the decisions that got you to the end of a road, but you should let those negative thoughts pass and keep living. Honestly, it’s the kind of advice everyone needs.

He and Barry then blast through each train car, eventually reaching the Badnik and the conductor.

The train Badnik then reveals how it just wanted to be forever friends with the conductor and was enraged when it realized that the conductor “abandoned” it, so it decided to deliver Sonic and co. to Eggman to get its reward - being forever together with the conductor. 

Damn, this game makes me actually feel bad for a train.

Sonic has none of it, calling the train selfish for doing this at the expense of everyone, and with the help of his friends, he manages to hit the train, allowing for Espio to grab the Flicky and Amy to smash the train.

Once things calm down and everyone’s outside the train, Sonic reveals the cake he had bought, with everyone wishing Amy Happy Birthday.

As for Eggman, he figures out that his plans have been foiled once again, but more importantly - SAGE CAMEO!!! And she and Metal Sonic are wearing “Let’s Go Dad!” T-shirts, that’s so adorable! (I suppose this also means this story takes place after Sonic Frontiers.)

So, yeah, this was The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, and it’s amazing! My only complaint here is that Silver is missing, but otherwise, I love it. Like I said before, we really need more games where we get to interact with Sonic’s friends.

#Sonic Cyber Revolution Analyzer (Masterlist)

#Sonic the Hedgehog Analyzer #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #miles tails prower #shadow the hedgehog #the murder of sonic the hedgehog #knuckles the echidna #rouge the bat #barry the quokka #vector the crocodile #espio the chameleon #blaze the cat #sage the ai #dr eggman #metal sonic #orbot and cubot #sonic frontiers

[comradekatara]

The gaang + their best insults on roast the firelord day?

aang could talk about that time zuko impulsively grabbed a clearly booby trapped egg and got them both stuck to a ceiling grate for a whole day, and of course he could also talk for hours about every time zuko tried to attack him and aang utterly wrecked his shit without breaking a sweat, and he could bring up the “hello, zuko here” incident if he really wanted to humiliate him, but aang simply wouldn’t do that, because he’s a nice person.

quoth katara: “zuko is too short and too gay to be firelord.” “let me be clear, no one is electing uhhhhh little homie gay ass.” etc.

sokka can list off the top of his head at least 15 different public locations at which zuko burst into tears over something deeply trivial. like that time zuko saw a stray cat eat a lizard and he didn’t know whether to be happy for the cat or sad for the lizard. or that other time that he recalled the stray cat eating the lizard incident, and it thrust him into yet another emotional turmoil. but sokka doesn’t actually mention any of that, because he knows that the far easier and more effective roast is to just say “what’s up with zuko’s hair? am i right?” and leave it at that.

toph tells a story uncle iroh once regaled to her about that time his beloved baby nephew put on a one man show in the garden and made everyone watch him as he performed his little poetry and swords recital. (meanwhile, azula appointed herself his manager and charged everyone for a ticket to the performance.) it’s actually a very sweet story, but zuko is of course beyond embarrassed.

quoth suki: “most of you know him as the firelord. i know him as the guy who burned down my village and is embarrassingly obsessed with my boyfriend. food for thought i guess.”

ty lee gracefully abstains from the ritual. of course she has more ammo than anyone, as the only true witness to how terribly he treated mai, but she claims that “he already does such a good job of humiliating himself on a daily basis” that she doesn’t feel the need to add to the pile. (ouch.)

“of course i could roast zuzu, but it seems our father beat me to it. [crickets chirping] what? is that.......... is that too much”

mai has been waiting for this day her whole life (it was all her idea, after all). she simply stands up, infamous letter in hand, and begins to read. “dear mai, i’m sorry you had to find out this way...”

#amphibiayan #asks #the gaang and #zuko #sorry this one took me so long to respond to #my inbox is lowkey a mess rn

[tokusaatsus]

Hi! I really love your works and it's always fun and enjoying to read them! It's a shame that I didn't made it for the event reqs but i saw that regular reqs are open, if that's what you call them? XD Anyway, can I request for Kohaku, Mayoi, and Hiiro being a secret admirer to the reader? Thank you!

HOW THEY WOULD ACT AS A SECRET ADMIRER

ft. amagi hiiro, ayase mayoi, oukawa kohaku

© tokusaatsus 2022

warnings: none (as of now)

In my opinion, Hiiro is too honest and straight-forward to be considered a ‘secret’ admirer. I feel like he wouldn’t see any reason to hide the fact that he is the one sending you the letters?

Since he wants you to see them and feel appreciated, he would probably think you’d like it better if you knew who your admirer was.

The only reason he doesn’t is because Aira assured him it would be more romantic that way. Out of the two of them, Aira is the more well-versed in pop culture, so Hiiro decides to take him at face value.

I am a firm believer in the idea that Hiiro unironically enjoys puns. So he probably sends you lovemail in that style. Little sticky notes with cute doodles and adorable puns pasted on your desk, or on your doorframe.

Like:

If you were a vegetable you’d be a cute-cumber ♡ or Are you a banana? Because I find you very a-peel-ing ♡

They’re small, usually mentioning food or animals, but they still manage to fluster you with their simplicity.

He places them at intervals–one in the morning, and one in the evening!

It’s especially sweet when you’re having a bad day and you just see these cute little notes. It makes you brighten up and forget your worries, even if it’s only for a little bit.

And that’s exactly what Hiiro wants! He’s glad that he’s able to bring you even a fraction of the joy he gets when he’s around you.

Signs off with little spades, just as a hint!

He does reveal himself eventually, though, because he feels like there’s no need for him to remain a secret anymore.

The only reason you didn’t suspect him to be your secret admirer despite the teeny spade doodles is because you thought that he wouldn’t hide it, rather he would just outright tell you, which is why you’re so surprised when you realise.

Even after you find out, he still makes it a habit to send you the puns–though not so secretly–because he likes seeing you smile when you receive them!

Mayoi is probably the most secretive out of the 3. He would rather die than let his position be revealed.

He finds himself writing you flowery, poetry-esque short letters with cute little doodles whenever he’s thinking about you (which is a lot!). He would prefer to never have to send them ever, but he also thinks you deserve to be appreciated for all the hard work and effort you put into things.

You are strong, you are brave, you make flowers bloom in my heart. A whole garden, just for you. My heart, no matter how small and shrivelled, will always have a space for you. You are more perfect than you know ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

He’s certain you wouldn’t like any messages from a gross creature such as himself, so he decides to take the good ol’ secret admirer route.

Goes full-out super spy when it comes to planting your letters.

Crawls into the vents at 4am so he can place them on your desk before school starts, sneaks into the ES kitchen at midnight to place one in your mug, etc, etc. He’s putting those ninja skills to good use!

You’re like a blushing schoolgirl being serenaded, honestly. It’s sweet.

These letters are the highlight of your day. Not just because of how cute they are, but also because no one can figure out where they’re coming from? No matter how hard you try, you can never catch the culprit who is slowly but surely stealing your heart!?

The actual reveal happens by accident.

You wake up in the middle of night, craving the most delicious drink known to mankind. You open the kitchen doors and lo and behold, what do you find but Mayoi, a piece of paper in one hand and your favoured mug in the other.

Hang on… Your sleep-addled brain starts to connect the dots. Is Mayoi-san…my secret admirer?

Starts stammering about how y-you’ve got it a-a-all wrong and eep! I’m s-s-sorry for r-ruining your night!

You giggle, startling him, and tell him that it’s okay before thanking him for how sweet his words were. You tell him that he also has a special place in your heart and he nearly dies. Hopefully you know CPR? Or maybe…mouth-to-mouth?

Sends you shoujo-style lovemail in the form of adorable letters praising all your virtues and commenting on how cute you are when you smile.

You wouldn’t expect Kohaku to write such cheesy things so easily, but all those Ghibli marathons with Aira have paid off. It started off as a way for Kohaku to express his feelings for you in secret, but after a few too-close calls with Rinne, he decided to kill two birds with one stone.

This way, he can tell you how he feels without embarrassing himself and also seeing how you flush every time you see one of his letters on your desk makes him more pleased then the cat that caught the canary.

Dear Y/N,

I hope your day is going well?

People always talk about how bright the sun is, but I think you’re the brightest thing in my sky. You push me to be the best version of myself, I want to be the way you see me. You manage to stay brave and strong, and I admire your desire to be the very best you can be. You’re a blessing to the people around you, and I thought you should know this. I’m not…very good at expressing my emotions but, I hope that this could make you smile just a little bit. That’s all.

You deserve good things.

Love, 🌸

His letters are so sweet and heartfelt, they make you giddy.

You slowly start anticipating the letters everyday. There’s always a kind note and a query about your day, it feels like the writer really cares about you.

This goes on for around a month, and then you decide that you need to find your so-called secret admirer so you can thank them for their kind words and praise.

When he finds out you’re looking for the writer of the letters, Aira pushes him to reveal himself but Kohaku doesn’t want to. He feels like it might be a letdown for you, and he doesn’t want to tarnish your experience.

But Aira, who knows that there’s no way you would shun him for something like this–actually there’s no way you would ever shun him, period–decides to casually let it slip in conversation that Kohaku’s been writing love letters for someone. Oh, Y/N, you are the recipient of these letters? How shocking~

When you thank Kohaku earnestly for how kind he is–and be sure to compliment him about his writing skills while you’re at it!–he’s flustered like you wouldn’t believe, but also incredibly happy as well. 

notes!

WC: 1.1k

reze txt HELP this was so long omg im?? but secret admirers are sooo cute ahhhh <33 i hope this made up for u missing my 100 followers event anonnie! and that it was as enjoyable to read as it was to write!!

#✒️...scribbles! #amagi hiiro x reader #ayase mayoi x reader #oukawa kohaku x reader #enstars x reader #amagi hiiro #ayase mayoi #oukawa kohaku #alkaloid #crazy:b #alkakurei #enstars