#they have each other. and i know things would never be the same again but my friends? my family? they'd all have each other. they're the

[chrissv4mp]

i feel like laughing in the middle of practice 🤍

summary: when you stop by to show your boyfriend some support at his practice, he can't help but think of all the funny times between the two fo you.

pairing: soccer player!chris sturniolo × fem!reader

warnings // topics: high-school au, some vulgar language, fluff

a/n: will definitely be writing short little one-shots between the releases of chapters for my new series, so... here's a fluffy chris one for you guys💞

"what're you doing here, y/n?" chris asked, trying to hide his excitement but ultimately failing as he grinned widely.

you just shrugged, "i wanted to watch you and come support you. this is your last practice before the championship and i just want you to know that no matter what, i'll always be here."

his smile faded slowly, lips parting as blood rushed to his cheeks. he would give you the world, you were his person and he already knew it.

his hands found their way to your shoulders, running down your arms softly in a way of affection before he pulled you into a big hug.

your smile widened, nuzzling your head into his chest as your hands wrapped around his body. he was the best hugger you knew, and an even better boyfriend.

"i love you," he muttered quietly, taking in the scent of your shampoo as he kissed your head lovingly.

"i love you more, chris." you replied, hearing the boy laugh.

he pulled away from you before scoffing, "well, that's not true, but i don't really have time to argue right now."

he crossed his arms over each other, and you couldn't help but stare at his body. he didn't have huge muscles, but he was so strong and his body was clear proof of that.

chris looked even better in his soccer uniform, those shorts that fit around his waist a little loose and the jersey that had his last name on the back.

you would never get tired of seeing him like this.

chris's laugh broke you out of your trance, "what are you looking at?"

this time it was your turn to be flushed, hiding your face in chris's zip-up hoodie that you took a few days ago, "nothing, just go and do your soccer-y things!"

the brunette chuckled, "yeah, okay, i'll go do my "soccer-y" things."

"love you, babe," he muttered, kissing your cheek before jogging off to the field where his teammates were talking.

chris wasn't even halfway through stretches when you crossed his mind yet again. nolan was complaining about his dad, and the brunette boy's mind couldn't help but wander.

he remembered that impression you did of your dad, about how strict he was when it came to boys.

that was probably one of the few times he's laughed that hard. and right now, he just couldn't help but let out a little snicker.

it went unnoticed by the rest of his team, as they were chanting the muscle they were currently stretching out.

"sturniolo! i can't hear you," coach william yelled, and chris sighed.

even when he started to yell along with his teammates, his mind was still on you. you were so good to him, putting up with his energetic, silly personality.

his head turned to the bleachers, and he smiled with his teeth. you were there, right on the first row.

you weren't on your phone or distracted by anything else, your attention was solely on him and only him.

as you gave him a thumbs up, he giggled, flustered as he looked away and back to the team.

he was obsessed with you.

the next time you crossed his mind was during scrimmage, he overheard the other boys talking about the game "kiss, marry, kill."

he remembered on of your first encounters with each other, it was at a party that his brother, matt, had hosted.

some girl had suggested the game, and when it was chris's turn you were one of the options. he had said marry, and that same night you had shared your first kiss.

chris was goalie at the moment, and right now somebody was coming up the field. he quickly got ready before the ball was kicked.

he groaned as the ball hit his face, bending over and holding his nose, "shit,"

javion ran over, eyes wide as he patted his teammates back, "chris, you okay?"

"my bad, man, i forgot i could kick that hard." he apologized, stepping away as chris stood up straight again.

chris smiled, "you're good. i wasn't even paying attention. it's my fault."

when the next round started, the thought of you was still lingering in his mind. he couldn't escape it, but he wasn't complaining.

practice was over and chris was practically sprinting towards you. it hadn't taken him long since he was the fastest on the soccer team, though.

he fell into your arms, hugging you tightly as he inhaled your perfume again, "i missed you."

you chuckled, looking up at him, "it's only been an hour, and i've been here the entire time, baby,"

"'felt like an eternity when i couldn't see your face." chris muttered before pulling away to stare at you.

your face went red again, looking away as you smiled widely.

he whined, "c'mon, i've been waiting to see you and now you're hiding?"

"oh, stop being a baby." you said, pulling him into a kiss.

chris smiled, holding your waist possessively as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip.

"i love you, y/n." he whispered against your lips, mind racing with millions of thoughts of you.

"i love you, too, chris."

. . . . .

tags: @adirtylittleheart @thc-bolter

#Spotify #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine

[yesimwriting]

you write art and patrick so well im literally foaming at the mouth for more

yes yes everyone pls ask me about my boyfriends that are also boyfriends to each other 🩷 (i have two extra drafts for them already)

----

breath in. the pad of your thumb presses into the side of the ball. you give yourself a beat to feel the weight of it, to embrace the familiar feeling of felt against your palm. breath out.

you bounce the ball once. breath in. you squeeze the ball, knuckles briefly straining beneath your skin before letting it hit the concrete again. breath out.

finally, you raise the arm holding your racket. every joint in your body is locked into place. there's a science to a sharp serve. the ball will land where you will it to.

you release the ball, arm stretching forward. a total follow through. the ball hits the center of your racket. the force of your hit propels the ball through the air until it hits the center of the other side of the court.

ugh. the night before your qualifying match and suddenly the precise serve you spent years perfecting loses its edge. what happened to the serve that media outlets have been calling 'the ultimate point guaranteer'? why is today the day that you can only manage a perfectly average serve?

you groan, letting the disappointment's weight settle against your chest. you suck. with a sigh, you start walking towards the extra tennis balls you left near the net. your dad is so never going to get over you not qualifying for the us open.

"there she is." the voice surprises you enough to force you to still. patrick...and a few steps behind him, his doubles partner, art. "the princess of modern tennis."

you turn your head enough to glare in patrick's direction. he's referencing a title some journalist used in one article that your dad decided would be perfect for marketing materials. "don't."

normally, you like seeing patrick and art more than you can justify. you don't know if you can consider yourself their friend, it's not like you guys see each other outside of coincidental run ins at tennis events. the three of you have been to more and more of the same tournaments these days. they're familiar in a way that settles you, like the feel of tennis ball in your hand.

you try to tap into that usual warmth, but you can't quite get there. it's not their fault you're frustrated.

art gives you a look that feels like an apology. he walks forward, opening the gate to the fence and stepping onto the court. "i told him not to."

you bend down to pick up a spare ball. "i appreciate the effort."

"what?" patrick follows art onto the court. "it's on billboards."

he's seen your billboard? you don't know why you feel the need to dwell on that. you weren't the biggest fan of having a picture of yourself blown up and pasted everywhere, especially with a caption that makes potential losses extra embarrassing, but you've never been truly self conscious about it. now, you're trying to picture it in your mind, trying to remember the details of your expression, the way your hair was styled, what you were wearing.

you let go of the ball in your hand, bouncing it against the ground so that you have something to look at. "it was a charity thing."

"i know." you let yourself glance up at patrick. he's closer than you thought he'd be. you catch the ball before releasing it again. "for the youth outreach program thing, right?" before you can answer, he extends an arm, catching the ball before you can reach it. "you looked cute in it."

art looks at you again, something a little more distinct than apology behind his eyes. he reaches for the tennis ball still in patrick's hand. "patrick."

he twists his arm away before his friend can steal the ball from him. art follows him, leaning forward and grabbing his arm. "what?" their play fight grows in physicality, with each of them pushing and pulling at the other. you'd worry about the game losing its lightheartedness if both of them weren't smiling. "you stared at it for more than five minutes before getting out of the car."

"really?"

art freezes, his hand squeezing the only part of the ball patrick's left exposed. "it was a good billboard, you look pretty--looked pretty." the implication of his correction hits him a second too late. "not that you don't look pretty now, you always look pretty, but you looked really--" he cuts himself off with a sharp breath, "but that wasn't the point, you also looked like a strong role model for underprivileged young women."

the compliments paired with his uncertainty make it difficult not to melt. you beam at him. "thank you, art." you adjust your hold on your racket, both hands resting on the grip. "i think you're pretty, too."

he smiles, head briefly angling itself downwards. art manages to steal the tennis ball from his friend. you can't tell if he pulled it out of patrick's grasp or if patrick chose to let go.

"you know what the best thing to do is the night before a big match?" patrick's question feel rhetorical until you look at him. he's watching you like he's waiting for something.

despite knowing what you should be doing, you also know that you're incapable of not playing along. "what?"

"doing anything that keeps you from getting in your head." you stand a little straighter, chin angling itself a fraction of an inch upwards. as nice as the local doubles duo is, advice offered from other tennis players comes with its own sort of tension. saying that you know best implies that you see yourself as the best. "that's what's wrong with your serve."

your eyebrows briefly pinch together. "you think i'm in my head?"

he takes a slight step forward, body angling itself to make the distance between you feel even smaller than it truly is. "i think your serve is technically perfect." patrick takes a moment to press his lips together. "but you're tense."

patrick's going about this the nice way. he's focusing on what you're doing right. you technique is objectively precise, your dad made sure of that. he's coached you since you were old enough to securely hold a racket for a reason. but tennis isn't just routine and muscle memory.

there's an art to the sport, and you know the difference it makes when you're playing. you can feel when your heart is in it, and right now, all you can think about is that your retired tennis champion dad watching you in the stands.

the feeling of something warm on your shoulder pulls you out of your train of thought. you blink. patrick's hand is on your shoulder. "you need to relax."

"i'm..." it's instinct to argue, to insist that you're fine and that you'll push through, but something tells you that that'd be pointless. he'd know. "i'll work it out."

his fingers briefly press into your shoulder, the squeeze assuring and gentle. "that's your problem--work." you look at him skeptically. "you're overworking yourself, and it's putting you in your head."

art angles himself a little closer. he extends an arm, placing his fingers on the edge of your racket. "that's why you're supposed to rest the night before a match."

the thought of not being in motion isn't appealing. if anything, you feel like you have too much energy in your system. but objectively, you know they're generally right.

art gently tugs on your racket. "you should come hang out with us."

"yeah," patrick agrees with a slight hum, "you're in the hotel down the street, right?"

okay--you know the right answer. your dad would be mad if he found out you snuck out the night before a match to practice, but if he found out you ended up in a hotel room with some guys--he'd die and then come back to life just to kill you.

"um..." your eyes briefly fall to your racket. "yeah, i am." okay, you need to think of an excuse that doesn't make you sound like a little kid with a curfew. you twist your wrist slightly, a halfhearted attempt to free your racket. "but it's kind of late...and i have to be up early tomorrow."

art pulls on your tennis racket again. there's nothing overly forceful about it, but it's enough to make you look at him. "yeah, but you were going to stay out here for a awhile, right?"

"and it's good to take your mind off of things." patrick tacks on his point. "i mean--we always do something fun before our matches."

patrick stretches out an arm, the back of his hand softly hitting art's shoulder. "yeah, yeah, we do."

you press the nail of your thumb against the side of your racket's handle. "really?" you're mumbling to yourself more than anything else, "something fun."

it's risky. if anything goes wrong, you'll never hear the end of it. and if you mess up tomorrow because you're tired or distracted, you're not sure you'll be able to forgive yourself. you've already taken some risks tonight. you should quit while you're ahead.

then again, you like being around them, and they're in the same hotel as you. it can't be that bad of an idea.

you let out a reluctant sigh before finally looking up. you glance between them, too aware that it's too late for you. "okay," you breathe out, "i guess going up for a little bit can't hurt."

patrick grins. "can't hurt at all."

art lets go of your racket before taking a few steps forward. he stops once he's at your side before throwing an arm around your shoulder. "you know us." art's hand settles over patrick's. "we'd never do anything to hurt you."

warmth crawls up your chest. you're comfortable with them--maybe too comfortable. "yeah," you hum in an attempt to dismiss the feelings bubbling in your chest, "let's just go."

——

im thinking of writing a part 2 to this so if you’d be interested in that and/or would want to be tagged pls lmk :)

#challengers x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig x reader #mike faist x reader #josh oconnor x reader #art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig #challengers fic #x reader

[violetasteracademic]

I think, possibly, half of the fandom have either began to blend the bat boys together, or are getting them mixed up.

Azriel never said he wanted a mate. Absolutely never. Not in any context, any language, or any interpretation. He only said he wants Elain (a female who already has a mate) and is confused that she isn't his mate because of how he feels about her, not just because he wants a mating bond with her. Which is impossible as far as he knows.

There is no way he actually thinks he can create a mating bond with Elain out of thin air. He just knows Elain isn't interested in Lucien, while Azriel and Elain have developed deep feelings for each other, thus: What if the Cauldron was wrong. Do we actually believe Azriel thinks he can magically form a mating bond, or get rid of Elain and Lucien's mating bond? Where in the text does it suggest that? Now, I for one hope they manage to do this 🤣 but Azriel certainly isn't saying he thinks it is possible. He just thinks he could beat Lucien's ass in a blood duel *if* Lucien called for one (which is doubtful.)

If he had the same feelings about Gwyn, and she also had a mate already, then he would be questioning the Cauldron for her instead. He's not out here saying: I want Elain and I want her to be my mate. In fact, he most certainly thinks that is impossible. What he is saying is: I want Elain and she wants me and it feels wrong that she was "assigned" to someone else. How is that not a fair and valid thought to have? And now that he knows the Cauldron has been corrupted, how could he possibly *not* continue with that line of thought? His thoughts and feelings were validated, and now he is just going to... walk away?

Cassian, however, literally wants a mating bond and was jealous that Rhys and Feyre had one and he didn't:

Cassian was the one who explicitly stated his jealousy over the mating bond, how Feyre and Rhys showed that the tales of the "glory and wonder" of the mating bond are real.

Cassian wants a legendary mating bond. He saw Rhys and Feyre prove the mythicality of it right, and now he has wants it for himself even if he never has before.

Azriel just wants Elain.

Azriel also never said he wanted kids. It is so bizarre to invent a storyline where Azriel would change his mind about the woman he wants because she may have some risk during the pregnancy, which is already so debunkable in a million ways. Yes, Nesta changed her own pelvis but now she isn't sure she even wants kids as of HoFaS. And let's not forget what happened to Feyre was explicitly because she was in Illyrian form during conception. Rhys was *not* afraid to get her pregnant in her Fae form because the risk is way lower.

Azriel is also now 99% if not 100% confirmed to be Starborn, which would make him not fully Illyrian. This is also backed up by his ability to winnow and do other things Illyrian's cannot. At least one of the Made sisters possessed the power to change a pelvis when they wanted to. So how is this still a thing? The fact that people think Sarah would ever even write an "Elain doesn't get chosen because Azriel wants a female who can have his babies" is so offensive and unhinged I hate that I'm even talking about it, but most importantly it is inaccurate to the text. Again, the most important actually relevant piece of information is the fact that Cassian is the one who said he wants kids, not Azriel:

Azriel is asked if he wants children and he says what he wants doesn't matter (then Cassian notices how Azriel has moved on from Morrigan and he doesn't really get why. We all know it is because of Elain, regardless of whether or not you think they are endgame.) Cassian was asked if he wanted children, and he said of course he does.

All lines explicitly stating a desire for a mating bond or children are assigned to Cassian. So why is the fandom thinking they are Azriel's?

Azriel and Cassian are completely different characters, with completely different wants and goals. Cassian's goals, in his own words from his own POV: mate and babies. Azriel's goal, in his own words from his own POV: Elain.

#elriel #pro elriel #elain x azriel #elriel endgame #elriel supremacy #elriel month 2024

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Feel the Same Way | Park Seonghwa

-> Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader

-> Request: From Anon. I'm sorry I didn't use all the prompts you sent through.

-> Synopsis: When Y/N kissed her best friend the night before, she doesn't expect him to feel the same.

-> Warnings: Friends to lovers trope.

-> Word Count: 457

-> Requests: Open.

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©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated. Thank you.

“So, are we going to act like nothing happened last night?" Seonghwa quietly asks Y/N as he follows her into the kitchen, away from the prying ears of the others.  

"What happened last night?" she questions, pretending to be clueless. "I have no idea what happened last night."  

Seonghwa sighs in frustration, not in the mood for her games. He wants to confirm that he's not imagining things when it comes to her feelings for him. Until last night, he didn't believe the others when they insisted that she likes him the same way he likes her, and that they were both just dancing around the truth to avoid what everyone else could see.  

He gently takes hold of her arm, preventing her from walking away after grabbing another drink, and turns her to face him. "Just tell me if you feel the same way. If not, I'll never bring it up again." 

Her heart races, memories of their shared kiss from the previous night flooding her mind. It was she who had initiated it first.  

"I do feel the same way," she admits, her voice barely audible. "I've been trying to hide it, but last night I couldn't hide it anymore. I don’t know what came over me."  

Confusion fills his eyes as he asks, "Then why are you trying to push me away now?"  

She shrugs, "I suppose I'm just scared."  

"You have nothing to be afraid of," he reassures her, stepping closer and gently tilting her head to meet his gaze. She still tries to avoid looking at him. "I'm so in love with you." 

"I... I never thought you would hear you say that,” She stammers, her eyes finally meeting his. 

He smiles softly, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. "I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I just didn't want to ruin our friendship and lose you if you didn’t feel the same."  

Tears well up in her eyes, "I'm sorry for trying to push you away after kissing you last night. I was scared of losing you too."  

He shakes his head, his eyes filled with understanding. "I don't want to hide anymore. I want to be with you, Y/N. For as long as you’ll have me."  

“I want to be with you too,” she nods, her voice barely above a whisper. A mixture of relief and longing washes over her. "Now kiss me already.” 

He leans in, his lips meeting hers in a tender and passionate kiss.Their kiss is filled with years of unspoken emotions and confessions. As they pull away, their foreheads rest against each other. 

“I love you,” he whispers. 

“I love you too,” she replies, bringing him in for another kiss. 

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#park seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #ateez #ateez x reader #park seonghwa fics #park seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa scenarios #park seonghwa fan fics #ateez fics #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fan fics #seonghwa fics #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa fan fics #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop fanfics #kpop fics #ateez x y/n #park seonghwa x y/n #park seonghwa x female reader #ateez x female reader #author: dancinglikebutterflywings

[lure-of-writing]

Done

Summary: you are done with the way Cassian treats you

word count: 2k

There you were yet again. Alone. Cassian had been doing this a lot recently. Avoiding you that is. It never used to be like this. In the past you couldn’t get him to leave you alone, he was obsessed with you. That was until your work took you to the continent for almost a year. Nine months if you were to be exact. Sure being away from the people you loved wasn’t the best situation to be in but yet you didn’t let that stop you. Often after a long day of playing in the world of politics you would return to your room to write each person of the inner circle a letter. Cassians was always the first to be written and sent out. The rest followed soon after. Since you physically could not be the night court you tried to find ways to remind those you loved that you did in fact love and miss them dearly. Oftentimes sending little items that reminded you of them. Hand made emblem for Rhys to stamp his papers with, beautiful paints that weren’t available in the night court for Feyre. So on and so forth. 

At first everything was fine but the more time you spent on the continent the less you heard from Cassian. The first thought that crossed your mind at the lack of communication from Cass was that Rhys put him to work. Giving him something to focus on other than your lack of presence. With a quick letter to the high lord you quickly found out that was not the case. He in fact was not currently tending to anything other than his recurring requirement to his court. This was strange. 

Something you had learned in your time with Cassian was that sometimes you just simply did not have enough energy to deal with another person, let alone have a conversation with them. So you slowed down the letters you were sending but never failing to remind him that you loved him and couldn’t wait to be home once more and if you were able to visit then you would. Sometimes he would acknowledge the letters you sent, sometimes he wouldn’t. If he sent a letter to you he would oftentimes  disregard what you said about missing him, simply brushing past what you said as if it held no significance. This didn’t happen right away of course, no, it was a slow and minute thing that happened over time. When he first stoped sharing your feeling of longing and want to be with the other person you didn’t mind, figuring that he was enjoying some time alone without you but by month six you were concerned, exhausted, sad and overall hurt and frustrated. This lead you to calling him out on his actions in your next letter. “What is going on? We barley talk, when I offer to come visit you say no, when I ask for you to come here instead you say no. Ive tried just about everything to see you but yet you never do the same for me. I find it quite ironic how every time I think I will have enough time to return home you suddenly are very busy, but yet when I ask Rhysand if that is the case it isn’t. You never have enough time in your days for me but you always have more then enough time to spend with your friends. You will pick literally anything and anyone else over me. Why is that? Do you not love me anymore? Am I not good enough? If you don’t feel the same or want to be in this relationship then please let me know because I can’t do this.” 

Cassian obviously talked you down from the ledge of a breakup reassuring you that he did in fact love you; he was just busy with everything happening within the inner circle especially since he was the peacekeeper between Rhysand and Nesta. Bregurgenly you accepted his answer not without reminding him that what he did was not ok and he needed to change his behavior. Immediately he agreed stating that he saw how it was a problem and needed to do better. 

But better never came. Three months had passed since that argument and almost a month more had passed since you returned home. It was mind blowing how even upon your return back to the night court Cassian never came to see you. Not once. Once again something or someone else always needed him more. With a defeated heart and building anger you accepted each of his excuses in hope that he would one day return the effort you were putting in the relationship. That day never came. Rhysand wanted to see you after your long excursion across the ocean and to a foreign land. He also needed a report from you in full but that was neither here or there. Once at the river house Rhys greeted you with a big smile and open arms, inviting you into a very much needed hug. “How are you my friend?” the question was asked as your high lord led you to his office “I’ve been better but you know how that goes.” Rhysand frowns at your answer “Continue on. What do you mean by that?” sighing you deflate in the chair across from him. “It’s Cassian. I asked him when we could see each other and he said he was busy this weekend and last but I know he was just here. I can smell him. If he was just here, why couldn’t he have stayed and finally acknowledged my existence for the first time since I’ve gotten home?” Rhys simply nodded his head in understanding sensing you had more you needed to get off of your chest. He was right about that. “And then when I asked about seeing him this weekend he said he was busy celebrating the new Valkyries. Like seriously? C’mon. You can’t spare five minutes of your day to say hi, how are you?” 

“I see why you have been better.” with another heavy sigh you nod while closing your eyes to stop the burning sensation of oncoming tears from succeeding in their mission. “Not even that but he doesn’t even talk to me anymore. I will try and try and try but it's like he couldn’t be less interested in what I have to say. If I don’t say anything first we would never talk. Gods, we don’t talk. Actually now that I think of it I can’t remember the last time we had a conversation that lasted for more then five minutes. That is when he can pencil me into his very busy schedule.” You felt Rhysands observing eyes take note of your completely exhausted appearance. And the drained feeling radiating off of you. It wasn’t from the trip. He knew that much. “Y/n my dear you need to talk to him about this.” the first sigh of your impending breakdown was your wobbling lip being pressed inbetween your teeth and the deep breath you take to stop yourself from crying. It was not successful as tears freely made their way down your cheeks. Rhysand saw it then. You were not angry, or frustrated you were simply done being treated this way. You knew what you needed to do but your heart hadn’t let you. “I have talked to him about this. All I do is talk and talk and talk.” A broken laugh makes it way out at how completely stupid you feel. “I’m done talking. He has shown me time and time again just how exactly he feels about me. You prioritize the people you love. And I am no longer a priority.” Finally opening your eyes you see those stunning violet eyes staring back. At first it felt like pity but the longer you looked the more you recognized the true emotion displayed. Empathy. Oftentimes you forgot Rhys could look into people's minds but as you felt the gentle nudge in your head asking for permission to see what had been going on you allowed it. A few moments pass as he shuffled through your memories before he finally retreated to his own mind. “Y/n my dear you don’t deserve that. You know this right.” You couldn’t find it in yourself to verbally respond to him so instead you simply nodded your head while trying to hold back the tsunami of tears fighting to be released. “I know.” you whispered 

Getting Cassian to yourself was no easy feat. The first few failed attempts resulted in getting Rhysand involved as much as you hated having to do so. But this conversation was much needed and you knew you would never feel content with your decision unless you were able to talk with the male face to face. There in that exact office where you had cried to your closest friend about your relationship being in shambles is where you now stood in front of Cassian who was silently sitting in the chair in front of you. “We should break up.” That finally got his attention. As soon as Rhysand revealed that the pretend meeting was just a ploy to get him in the same room as you, Cassian had shut down completely. Now he was staring at you with wide eyes and an open mouth. “I have tired and tired to get you to care about me and I am done trying. I am tired.” Cassian tried to speak but with the raise of your hand he was quick to close his mouth. “Everything else in your life has taken more priority in your life than me, and I am not saying that I am the most important person in your life because I am not. But I have been begging for you to give me even an ounce of your attention and you can’t even do that so I am done. I am done begging you to allow me in your life, hell to even want me in your life in the first place. I will not continue to beg and plead for you to show me you care because it is quite obvious that you don’t and that you haven’t for a very long time. This is not how you treat someone you love. I would know because I would never do the same to you.” Cassian stood abruptly closing the distance between the two of you causing you to take an equal about of steps back from him. Seeing the hurt flash in his eyes brought you a sense of disbelief. Only when you are about to walk away does he finally show interest in you again. How ironic. “Please don’t do this. Don’t leave me. I can do better, I can be better.” His whisper of words are overshadowed by the laugh falling from your lips. “That is what you have been saying for months and yet you never change. Sure you do better for like a week and then everything is back to normal. It's time to face the music, Cassian. This relationship is over. It has been for months. I was the only one putting in effort and you honestly can’t believe that I would continue to stick around when you don’t do the same. Relationships are two-sided and you know that but yet I was all alone.” 

Swiftly you move past him and his outstretched arm. Only stopping once you reach the threshold of the doors. You don’t look back as you speak “I hope you are a better partner for Nesta.” Cassian remains silent as you pull open the door. Rolling your shoulders back you stand tall as you make your way down the hallway lined with Rhysand and Azriel. Finally you had set yourself free from the person who valued you the least. Outside of the River house you took in Velaris one last time. Life on the continent was calling and you couldn’t fathom telling it no. Something in your soul had changed walking out of that room. Something no male could ever take away from you again. Happiness. And for the first time in your life you finally understood what it meant to put yourself first.

#cassian oneshot #cassian x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #cassian imagine #cassian x reader #cassian #cassian x y/n #cassian angst

[the-kr8tor]

Sending a req for zombie apocalypse au like you asked!^^ (Crow anon but I aint signing hehe) I have two ideas for some fluffiness (if you wanna use em!) so I'll lay em out here- 1. As I mention in my daily hobie hc, you try to call his name but you can't get to him- maybe, we'll go 180 here and you manage to get to him/he remembers you, and its like a reunion sorta thing OR 2. You both are zombies and are maybe revisiting places you've had dates before- (wink wink abandoned building date wink wink) Silly fluffy zombie stuff

Yeess zombie au!! I chose the second one! And surprise surprise, it ended up being angstier than I thought it would be lol thank you for requesting! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, CW gore, TW death, CW blood. Zombie AU, Angst.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Amidst the haze of death and the fog of rot, Yuri finally finds you. Her heart skips a beat at the sight of your sunken eyes and grotesque infected bite on your neck. Her trigger finger shakes as her scope roams around your bloodied clothes. Drying black splotches of blood marring the familiar jacket you always wore. A sob breaks through her body, tears blurring her vision, she finally found you but it's too late.

She's too late.

Yuri whispers your name, and you stumble out of the dilapidated record shop like you heard her. Out comes another familiar form after you, leather jacket all torn up, jaw unhinged and numerous bites along his leg. Yuri almost screams his name, Hobie. Her hopes are dashed at the sight of his undead body following you. She thought that he would be alive at least, that he's surviving somewhere, but she knows that he can't survive without you. That's probably why when Yuri moves the sniper scope downwards, she sees your hand bound with his. A rope around your wrist and Hobie's, tying you to him, tying him to you. It says everything, it tells a tragedy.

She hoped and wished that she would find her friends after the world ended, hell, she even readied herself that she would find them without a breath in their decaying lungs. But not like this, never like this.

You both shamble off into the streets, as if you're holding each other, as if you're both still breathing, hand in hand, like how she always sees you both. Yuri hesitates to pull the trigger. She remembers everything, from how you laughed at her joke, from how she met Hobie to the last gig with you two before the world went to shit. She misses you both, truly, she would always wake up wondering where you two ended up amidst the chaos. She even relished the thought of not knowing, her mind making up situations of where her friends would be.

Yuri has no idea how to tell Ned.

Her walkie-talkie cackles on her chest, the unmistakable voice of Ned sounds out on the roof she's perched on. “Yuri?” He asks, voice tired.

Yuri clears her throat but the tears still come. “I'm here.”

“Good, uh, I know we're looking for supplies but you know the drill. If you see any signs of Y/N and Hobie—”

“I'll tell you, I know.” She knows Ned's spiel already, it has been almost two years of trying to find you two, two years of Ned saying the exact same sentence. Two years of scavenging the city and the only sign you two have left was Hobie's guitar left on the floor of a pharmacy. That was six months ago. Two years of hope, two years of longing to find you both alive and well. And now that she has, she has no idea what to do now. Especially that you're husks what you and Hobie used to be.

The walkie-talkie cackles to life again. “...okay, thanks. No sign of them on my end.”

Yuri looks through her scope again, following you and Hobie shambles into the old pub where everyone in the band frequents before everyone got separated. Then she realizes, you were both going into places where you two used to go to. The record shop was where you met the rest of the band, where Hobie introduced you to them. She remembers how shy yet excited you were to meet them, and she remembers how Hobie held on to you like someone in the band would shoo you away. No one did, everyone else welcomed you with open arms. That was almost ten years ago now. Yuri wishes she could go back, but she can't.

Every place leads back to the past.

She weeps alone, gloved hand covering her mouth so the noise wouldn't attract the horde below.

Yuri has the urge to come down from her perch to take a good look at you and Hobie. But she knows that she wouldn't be able to pull the trigger once she sees your still intertwined hands closer. She hates herself for not being brave enough to come and say goodbye to her friends, she hates herself for not telling Ned the truth. She hates herself for not finding the both of you sooner.

As the sun sets and the undead below groans lowly, teeth clacking against the other, chomping into nothingness. The sobs Yuri let out has subsided, yet the heaviness in her chest stays. She wonders how long it'll stay.

Seeing movement inside the pub, she looks into her scope to spot you two walking out. For a moment her eyes betray her, she sees you both alive and well, clean clothes on your back, smiling at eachother and hands intertwined like always. Yuri blinks and all she sees is death.

With a deep inhale, she follows you and Hobie throughout your ‘day’. Ignoring James’ and Ned’s calls, she jumps from roof to roof, sniper tied on her back, and mind imagining that it's a regular day for you both. That maybe in your mind’s eye, that you're having a date with Hobie, that maybe in his mind's eye that he's taking you out for a nice day out after a hard week.

She hopes that's the case.

Yuri always thought that there's always a semblance of somebody's life left in them once they turn. You walking into the empty grocery store with Hobie in tow proves it. She wonders if there's a cure, she could possibly bring you both back to life. But the gaping hole in your neck and the angry wound on Hobie's leg says otherwise.

Jumping to another dusty roof, you and Hobie are a lot closer to her now. She could see you both clearly, she wishes she doesn't. From just one good look at the injuries littered around yours and Hobie's rotting flesh, she surmises that her friends have only been dead for two weeks.

Yuri fights a sob from breaking out of her aching chest. She was too late, her mind racing to all the what if’s. Shaking her head, she sees you two wander off to the pier. And she immediately knows where you're going. As you both disappear behind broken boats, Yuri jumps off the roof with a practiced landing. Barely making any sound or letting her knees take the brunt of the fall. A tear escapes when she remembers that she learned how to do that from Hobie.

Trainers thumping softly against the wooden dock. Yuri sees you and Hobie sitting at the end of it, barely moving, still not breathing as you two watch the sunset. Your backs are turned away from her, if you can even smell her from where you sat, you don't take notice of her. Milky white eyes glued at the orange sunset that slowly sinks down into the sea.

Yuri takes out her handgun, breath stuck in her throat as she aims shakily at your heads. Whispering your names, instead of looking over your shoulders to stare and lunge at her warm flesh, you place your heavy head on top of Hobie's shoulder.

Yuri shakes her head, exhaling, you both look so alive like this, peaceful, lives untouched by sorrow and death.

When Yuri returns back to base with Ned frantically running towards her, eyes full of worry, he knows immediately the reason why her eyes are red, and why there's tears flowing down her tear stained cheeks. He knows, and he crumbles to his feet.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #zombie au #zombie apocolypse au #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #atsv imagine #atsv hobie #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #spider punk x fem!reader #hobie angst #hobie x reader #hobie x you #cw gore #cw blood #tw death #hobie fanfic #hobie imagine #fanfic #x reader

[the-badger-mole]

Worst Cooks in the Nation

It was strange having a school rivalry somehow spin out of control and become fodder for a reality competition series, but that is exactly where Katara and Zuko now found themselves. After culinary school, they had gone on to become big names-Katara with her globally popular online cooking show and Zuko with his first restaurant earning three stars in it's opening year. They were prepared to never see each other again after graduation, but someone-Katara suspected her friend and Probending promoter Toph, while Zuko smelled his uncle's interference- had gotten into the ear of the executive of the food and travel network who had approached Katara to syndicate her cooking show. She had somehow gotten word of the intense rivalry between Chefs Katara and Zuko- along with some video that neither of them had known existed- and it had given her a brilliant idea.

The woman talked fast, and neither Katara nor Zuko knew how, but by the end of the meeting, they had agreed to two seasons of Worst Cooks in the Nation. The regret set in immediately.

"So..." Katara said, as they walked through the parking lot towards her car.

"Yeah..." Zuko agreed. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Who even took those videos in the first place?"

"Probably Chan," Katara said scowling. "That guy would mind any business that wasn't his own."

"I remember," Zuko's face twisted into something like a grimace. "Still, who records an onion chopping contest?" Katara stopped walking and looked up at Zuko incredulously.

"Chan!" She rolled her eyes. Zuko gave a weak chuckle.

"I guess he's the one who filmed you dumping that salad dressing on my head," he said. "Or that time I let your stone lobsters loose."

"Yeah, why was that guy so obsessed with filming us?" Katara made a face. Zuko shuddered and shrugged. This was new, he mused. Just having a regular, if slightly awkward conversation with Katara.

It had been years-five of them to be exact- since they had seen each other face to face. The bitter rivalry they'd let simmer through 4 years of culinary school had at the end boiled over in a frothy mess. They hadn't spoken a word of the mess they'd made at the end. The small bit of awkwardness between them was a nice surprise, all things considered.

"We're going to keep this competition friendly, right?" Katara asked. She looked up at Zuko with her wide, earnest eyes, tugging at her lip with her teeth. Zuko drew his hands behind his back and clasped them together tightly.

"We're almost thirty," he said. "I think we're past food fights and insults...right?"

"Right!" Katara agreed with alacrity. They walked along in silence for a while, passing row after row of cars.

"What about... that other thing?" Katara asked. She didn't meet Zuko's eye this time. She kept her gaze firmly on the ground a few feet ahead of them.

"The...other thing?" Zuko was grateful for the dim lighting of the parking lot. He could feel the back of his neck heat up.

"You know...we never talked about it, but..." Katara glanced up at him from the corner of her eye. Zuko was glad that she was walking on his left. The scar on his face would make the spectacular blush on his face less noticeable at least.

"We rarely talked about anything," Zuko said with what he hoped was believable nonchalance. "It was shouting matches or silent treatment with us."

"Then why did you kiss me?" Katara asked. Zuko froze midstep. He swallowed once, twice. Three times before he could form words.

"If I recall, you kissed me first," Zuko said. Katara's head snapped up, all the shyness was gone. She scowled at him.

"No," she said. "You definitely kissed me. I remember you were all up in my space, and I was against the counter at my work station and then you leaned in and kissed me." Zuko remembered that almost the same way, only in his recollection, Katara had leaned up to close the space between them. Then his arms had gone around her waist and hers had wound around his neck.

"I remember you holding onto me," he said quietly. "And pulling me back in when I tried to pull away."

"Are you saying I forced you?" Katara demanded. Zuko smirked at that. He could see the flush on her dusky cheeks, and realized maybe the red on his own face wasn't as unnoticeable as he'd hoped.

"No," he said. "I don't remember kissing you first, but I remember wanting to." Katara's eyes went wide, and her blush got hotter.

"Oh," was all she said. Zuko took a breath, shut his eyes.

"It was a long time ago," he told her.

"Yeah," Katara looked down at the ground. "I-I guess it was. I'm not even sure why I brought it up. It's just...if we're going to be working together, we should be on the same page, right?"

"Right," Zuko agreed.

"So...we're doing this?" Katara asked. "Reality TV competitions can get ugly."

"I promise, we'll keep it clean," Zuko said. "No food fighting. No below the belt insults. No...doing anything unfair."

"Smack talking's still allowed?" A half smile tugged at Katara's mouth, and Zuko resisted the urge to catch it with his own. There would be no doubts who would be the initiator here.

"I insist on it," he said. "I can admit it now, but your smack talk is pretty funny. It'll make for good TV." Katara's half smile grew into a full blown grin.

"Alright," she said. "Let's give them a show."

Based on the Bot Plot AU I wrote in Part 1

#atla #zutara #zutara months 2024 #day 17: reality tv au

[darkwolf989]

Hello ! I saw your Valentino's daughter fics and they're ⭐amazing⭐

Can u request Valentino with a daughter who also has shitty eyesight ( you can pick any scenario but this could be one if main points in the fic)

Thank you💛

As someone who ALSO has super bad eyesight, this was a fun one to write! I hope you enjoy the scenario- and if you're looking for a different vibe, please feel free to request!

Valentino’s biggest frustration with having an elementary aged daughter was parent teacher conferences. And the first one of the school year was always the worst. Year after year, it never failed. His darling wife would conveniently be out of town that week, or working late or for one of the numerous, annoying, yet totally valid reasons, he would end up by himself, with a notebook of discussion points painstakingly written by his wife.

Without her by his side, what should be a friendly discussion about their pride and joy often felt more like a business meeting. He tried so hard to not take offense to her list of improvements, and bit back any snarky response to comments that even hinted that his sweet little girl was anything less than perfect. So much so that he felt the need to distance himself from the start, lest his emotions get the best of him. 

On the flip side, their concerns about their daughter were front and center, to be brought up first before anything else. This year, the headaches were at the top of that list. And the possible cause was enough to make Valentino’s blood boil. 

“Daddy, I have a headache,” his daughter complained once again over breakfast that morning. Like every other occurrence, he took her temperature, gave her some aspirin and sent her off to school. By the time she was picked up, either the headache was gone or it had gotten worse. But with no fever and no other symptoms they could tell, he and his wife wondered if something else was going on at school. 

The very thought made it close to impossible to keep the business facade on. 

As he tried to bite back the potential accusation, he looked around at the empty elementary hallway.  As a rule, Valentino refused to acknowledge the nostalgic feeling that threatened to wash over him. Though he had to admit to himself, no matter how many years had passed, the scent of stale air and dusty chalk still remained the same. 

“Ah, Mr. Valentino. Come on in,” her teacher greeted him with a smile as she stood up from her desk. “I’m Miss. Tyme. It’s nice to meet you- your daughter is truly a delight to have in my classroom.” She led him across the room and gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “Please, take a seat.” 

With her friendly nature and off the bat compliment, he felt his anger slowly recede. Alright, Valentino, he thought to himself, you can do this. You can treat this like every other business meeting. Don’t make it personal. 

He took a seat in the too small chair and looked around at the room. For all of the things hell lacked, a decent schooling system for hellborn children was not one of those things. The classroom itself was bright, cheerful and covered in work clearly done by a group of kindergarteners. 

“Before we get started, do you have any concerns you’d like to address?” Miss. Tyme asked.

“Yes, I do.” He leaned forward. “reader frequently complains of headaches in the morning and after school. My wife and I have received numerous calls from the school nurse about the same issue, so much so we gave written permission for the nurse to dispense tylenol at school. I want to know if there is something going on here that could be causing her to not want to come to school each day. Something going on here that could be causing those headaches.” Even to him, his voice sounded sharp. 

To her credit, Miss. Tyme didn’t flinch. She nodded as she spoke, “I’m glad you brought that up, it’s a topic I wanted to discuss as well. Last week, reader complained of not being able to see the board. I moved her closer and she seemed to be much happier and kept up with the class work. I also noticed she’s been progressively holding her papers and books closer to her face. Have you seen that at all at home?”

Her confidence caught him off guard. He expected her to argue against his insinuation, not politely side step it. 

“Her Uncle Vox does her homework with her. I can ask him,” he replied defensively. 

She nodded, “very good. I would like to suggest you reach out to her pediatrician about her headaches and schedule a vision test. While I’m not a doctor, I have seen students with similar concerns who ended up needing glasses.” 

Valentino stared at her. “Glasses?”

She nodded, “of course it’s only a suggestion. Let’s move onto her academics…” she pulled out a thick file, “your daughter is kind, creative and quite bright. She is a joy to have in class. Take a look at this story she wrote….” 

As Valentino reviewed the work with her teacher, he couldn’t quite shake the nagging feeling that he may have ever so slightly jumped to conclusions. By all the teacher reports, his daughter was well liked, and above average in all subject areas. So where did the headaches fit in? Was she right? Was it vision related? 

Sure,he had glasses, but her mom had perfect eyesight. And when was the last time her pediatrician did a vision test? As soon as the conference was over, and he was safely in the privacy of his limo, he called his wife. After all, every parenting decision they made was done in unison. 

“Vision issues don’t run on my side of the family, but it can’t hurt,” his wife replied after he filled her in on the details. “Schedule her an appointment for this afternoon. She’d be delighted to have some daddy daughter time.” 

Valentino pinched the bridge of his nose, “I can’t just have her come downstairs for this one, mi amore. I actually have to call my ophthalmologist and see if he’ll take her. Or if he can recommend someone who specializes in kids.”

“Like I said Val, it can’t hurt. If not tonight, later this week. Make a day out of it with her, it’s been awhile since either one of us took her out for anything really. And check with Vox and Vel. See if they’ve noticed anything.”

His wife had a point. She spent more time being babysat by Vox or Velvette as of the late with the amount they both needed to be working. It would be nice to actually spend some time with his own daughter. He hung up with his wife and with another phone call, she had an appointment with his eye doctor the next day. Perfect. He texted Vox and Velvette the plan and got a quick response back from both. Vox agreed with the assessment- he had noticed the change in behavior as well. Velvette too, noted that she seemed to be sitting closer and closer to the TV screen. With this knowledge, Valentino sighed. He was certain she would end up with glasses, just like her Papi. 

Later that night, as he helped her change into her pajamas, he told her the plan to keep her home from school the next day. 

“What’s an opthoi…ophi…ophimi…” reader tried to ask. 

"Opthamologist, little one. It’s a doctor that specializes in just checking your eyes,” Valentino replied as he tugged her shirt over her head. He lifted her up onto the bed and covered her up with her blanket before he laid down next to her. “Your teacher noticed you seem to be having a hard time reading the board, so we’re going to have your eyes checked out.,Valentino leaned over and kissed her forehead, “might be why you’re getting such bad headaches all the time.” 

She snuggled into him and buried her face into his side. “Good. Cause my head hurts alot,” she said, “like a lot alot.”

Valentino felt a pang of guilt as he held her. He wished he had thought of this potential cause sooner. Maybe they would already have a reason, and she wouldn’t be in so much pain.

 “I know, bebita, but hopefully this will give us some answers,” he said softly. “Now go to sleep.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“Am I going to need glasses like you?” She looked up at him.

Valentino felt a pang in his heart. “Would that trouble you?” 

She shrugged against him. “I dunno. A little. Only one of my friends has glasses. And what happens if I don’t need glasses, and the headaches keep happening.”

He listened quietly as she unloaded her worries and fears, offering reassurance when necessary and silently rubbed her back as she spoke. Eventually, her voice grew softer and he lifted her onto his chest and laid her head against him. He felt her press her head into his chest and he let out a slow exhale as her eyelids fell shut. 

“Whatever happens, pequeño amor, Papi will be right there by your side the whole time. And we all love you so very much.” He felt her breathing slow and dropped the volume of his voice. “Duerme bebe niña papá está aquí. Sleep, baby girl. Daddy is here. Shush…”

With the weight of her tiny body on top of his chest, he closed his own eyes. Eventually, he would be able to get up and get to his laptop to get a little bit more work done, but for the moment, he was content where he was. 

When she came bounding out of her bedroom that next morning, Valentino had breakfast ready for her. Together they ate blueberry pancakes and giggled over the newspaper comics until it was time for her to get ready. 

“Daddy?” She asked as he tied her sneakers. 

“Yes bebita?”

“My tummy feels funny.”

His head shot up and his eyes met hers. Worry played over her features and Valentino relaxed. He could handle her fears. 

“Butterflies?” He asked with a kiss on her forehead. “Daddy’s got you. Don’t worry, my love. It will be okay, I promise.”

He lifted her up and carried her out to the limo. She sat on his lap and watched out the window as he scrolled through his phone. Never did Valentino ever think that a gold wedding band and his daughter on his lap would be his reality, especially inside this limo. 

Now that he thought about it, he should probably consider an upgrade. Or at least a deep clean. 

As the limo slowed down, she grew quiet. 

“Daddy? Will it hurt?” She asked as he took her hand. 

He smiled, “no, bebita. This is Daddy’s doctor too. I promise you you’re safe.”

The fact alone seemed to reassure her. As they went through the motions of the eye doctor, Valentino watched as his little girl seemed to struggle. His heart sank. He knew what the doctor would say before he said it. 

“Bebita, you can choose any frames you would like,” he said as cheerfully as he could once the doctor broke the news. “And if you can’t find one you like, Daddy will tell Uncle Vox to have them made. But choose one to take home today, okay?”

So she searched. Tried on frames. Valentino quietly set aside ones that might be more practical, and ones that fit her face well. She may not love them because of the color, but it would be good for her to have options. 

“Daddy, I want these!” she said suddenly, thrusting a pair of purple, heart shaped glasses into his hand. “Then I’ll look just like you!” 

He would be lying if he said his heart didn’t melt. 

“Then that’s what you’ll get,” he replied with a kiss on her head. He handed the frames to the doctor who sent them to the back to be put together with her prescription. 

Twenty seven minutes later they walked out, hand in hand, reader beaming in her new glasses. 

“Just like you, Daddy!” She said as she hugged his leg. 

He lifted her up and gave her a kiss on the forehead as he brought her into the limo. 

“Yes conejito, just like Daddy.”

As they pulled away, one final thought flitted through Valentino’s mind. 

Like father, like daughter. And he wouldn’t trade that for anything

#valentino x reader #hazbin fluff #valentino x you #hazbin hotel #the vees x reader #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino #vox x reader #valentino x wife #the vees

[employee052]

[A new ending and a new beginning.] (art + a fic)

[I accidentally wrote a lot for the art piece, so the full art is at the end under the cut!]

"An odd silence fell between the two of them as the sun began to gently rise from its slumber and out into the sky above. A soft drizzle pouring onto the ground below as Stanley clung to the jacket resting on his shoulders. The breeze hitting his skin as he realized what this was.

It was weather.

It was the rain. It was the cool breeze against his skin, the warmth of the sun above, the grass below him, the trees surrounding him.

It was freedom. Just like the way the two had hoped that they would one day see.

The Narrator smiled softly, Gently grabbing Stanley's hand as they sat side by side on the hilltop.

He gazed out into the world around them. The sunlight making his eyes shine a familiar yellow as he turned to see all there was to see in that moment alone. There was an odd sense of finality to his face, as though he was conjuring another story in his mind. Only this time, there were no more endings, no more resets.

Simply a story with a beginning and an end.

Stanley looked at him curiously, nudging his arm as The Narrator turned to face him with a guilty look.

This made Stanley nervous. Despite having only seen the Narrator in person for a short amount of time, in all his time within the office, he never once imagined that the same man that he was hearing all this time would be sitting beside him looking at him like he was his world.

And perhaps he was, Stanley thought to himself.

'It's funny, isn't it Stanley?' The Narrator asked in a low rumble, 'To think, the ending we've both desperately dreamed of achieving, and all you had to do was get me to listen."

Stanley smiled, it was a challenge to get him to stop without a voice. An even bigger challenge to get him to listen to what he had to say.

Yet as his legs ached from running up those stairs towards the escape pod, The Narrator holding his hand as he wondered if they were really about to be freed. Stanley knew that he would do it all again if it meant that the two of them could sit on this hill together for just a brief moment.

The Narrator sighed, looking down at their hands in silent acceptance. Gently caressing soft circles on the back of Stanley's hand.

Stanley didn't need to look. The weight in his chest telling him all that he needed to know.

Stanley kept his eyes on the Narrator's face. Set on dedicating it to memory as the soft wisps of distortion chipping off the Narrator's body. His coat on his shoulders growing steadily lighter.

'It's okay,' The Narrator reassured, his free hand wrapping around Stanley's torso in a gentle side hug. 'We've both achieved our freedom. Even if it was for a brief moment.'

A sob escaped Stanley's throat. A soft gasp before he broke out into tears. He pulled The Narrator in for a hug, clinging desperately to him as he felt him hug back. The two of them holding onto each other desperately as the ending was in sight.

'Oh... I have so many things I wish to tell you Stanley.'

Stanley felt the Narrators lips press against his head tenderly.

'But this isn't my ending to live. It's simply another beginning to your own story.'

The two stayed like this for another moment. Holding each other in their arms as the stars faded for the morning skies' hues to colour the atmosphere above them. Tears streaming down their faces. Stanley felt the Narrator's grip grow weaker feeling the distortion grow more intense as he clung to him even harder.

'Stanley, would you mind if I narrate this moment for us? For old times sake.' He whispered. 'It will be different, I promise.'

Stanley chuckled quietly. His shoulders shaking as he nodded, wiping his tears. For once, he never thought his lines would bring him this much comfort.

The Narrator coughed, the distortion about to overtake him as he pulled Stanley in closer. Speaking with whole chest befitting for a true and final ending.

'And so, Stanley and The Narrator could feel the breeze against their skin. A new ending, and a new beginning for them both. The feeling of freedom within themselves.'

'This was exactly the way, right now, that things were meant to happen.'

'And Stanley was free.' "

[The End]

~~~~~~~

[For different versions of the art!- uh... we can only have one cut, so just... scroll down lmao]

#artswin #ficswin #tsp stanarrator #stanarrator #tsp narrator #tsp stanley #control group au #tsp #tspud #the stanley parable #the stanley parable ultra deluxe #stanley parable #tspud narrator #tspud stanley #tspud stanarrator #fanfiction #sorry if my writing isnt good. i havent written a fic in a while askjdh

[damagedintellect]

Fyodor x reader x Nikolai [Rich kids AU]

💌 Days of our Bungo : Part 2 💌  

Summary: All of your fathers made a pack that whenever they had kids they would marry each other. It sounded like a good idea at the time but when the Sigma family was the only family to have a girl, and everyone wanted a bloodborne heir, things seemed a little complicated. After many arguments it was decided they would wait to see which boy, she, would fall for. Everyone always ends up having a crush on their childhood friend right?

Notes: Guess who had another Bungo dream, it was me! This time around the dream sequence started in the middle and just kept going so ima just fill in the gaps and start from the top.

Tropes: Sigma is your twin, Fyodor x reader x Nikolai, Fyodor is endgame, royalty/rich kids, Childhood friends, Mutual pinning but reader thinks it's one-sided, Nikolai knows its unrequited but he still loves you & Fyodor, eventual 🍋

💌 Word count: 4,812 💌  Part 1 | Part 3 coming soon

The following year everyone at the academy would be spending their junior year studying abroad. It excited you greatly. You had always wanted to travel out of the country but never had the opportunity. Every summer you had been busy with Ballet. You also didn't want to be separated from Fyodor or Nikolai. Which reminded you that even Sigma would probably choose to study somewhere else this year. Your heart dropped at the thought. Everyone had a different study of interest.

Being the Sigma family's heiress you weren’t expected to take over the family business. You had a certain level of freedom in your choice. You bit your lip. You liked things the way they were. How could you live without seeing Sigma, Fyodor and Nikolai everyday? You would all be making your choices by the end of the day and flying out as soon as the school could process your visas.

To your surprise Sigma, Ranpo and Dazai choose to study in England. You, Chuuya and Nikolai choose France and Fyodor was going to study in Russia. At the airport you were the only person who was teary-eyed. It was a new adventure and you knew it was going to be fun but you would miss your brother and your best friend. Of course you could alway write to them and they were only a phone call away but it would be different given the time zones and it wouldn't be the same.

The year went by faster than anticipated. You never expected Chuuya to take ballet with you and Nikolai but apparently outside of being there for poetry his brother pushed the idea on him. Chuuya ended up becoming a good friend and while Nikolai helped ease the homesickness you couldn't wait to be reunited with your family again. Despite Nikolai being with you in France he decided to take a little detour on the way back. He planned on going to Ukraine to visit his own family. So you flew back home with Chuuya but almost immediately parted ways after landing. Sigma would be returning in an hour or so, with that in mind you might as well wait for him. You sat on a bench zoning out as you heard someone ask you a question.

“дорогая, это место занято?”

You snapped your head around, mesmerized by the familiar voice. Softly you whispered the name of the man you missed so dearly.

“Fyodor.?” 

You stood up astonished at how different he appeared. He had gotten taller in your time apart. His hair was also an inch longer than before but you've always liked that he kept his hair long. Fyodor cleared his throat realizing he was still speaking russian.

“My apologies, I forgot you are not familiar with my native tongue.” He set his bag down on the chair next to you and you took that as your opportunity to pull him into a hug while kissing his cheeks out of habit. Your French instructor wanted everyone to greet the people in your class with “La bise” and Nikolai would throw a fit if you didn’t greet him with kisses everyday while you were there. It's kind of been ingrained in your muscle memory for a year now. Fyodor's eyes widened as he tensed slightly but you didn’t notice.

“Fedya I've missed you so much!” You nuzzled into him. This was the best welcome home you could have imagined. “How? How did you know I would be here?”

“Nikolai sent me a letter. He wanted to be here for the reunion but his father wanted him to extend his trip. I had a feeling you would be lonely.” he pulled away patting your hair. As you waited for Sigma you both talked about your adventures abroad. Right as Sigma's plane landed he pulled out a small box.

“In the excitement I nearly forgot. Merry Christmas.”

You stared back at the box frantically. You had forgotten to bring back gifts! Opening the box you revealed a gorgeous locket. “Oh Fyodor, it's beautiful but I don't have anything to give you.”

His hand delicately touched yours as he moved to put it on you. “Well then in exchange for something equally as beautiful, you'll simply have to dance for me.”

You were taken aback by his words as he stood up to greet Sigma. Apparently you were so flustered Sigma even mentioned how red in the face you were. Fyodor only chuckled as you all made your way back to the manor.

After returning from the study abroad classes went back to normal. Only now you would often go out of your way to greet Chuuya since you were both good friends now. On Valentine’s day he asked if you could speak with him in private.

“I'm not one to beat around the bush so I'll just come out and say it.” Chuuya pulled out a box of chocolates and handed it to you. “I like you and after the study abroad I realized I miss hanging out with you all the time.”

You stared back at Chuuya like a deer in headlights. This was really unexpected. You got along just fine but you didn't think it was anything special. You thought Chuuya was a fine gentleman but you don't feel the same way. Ultimately it didn't feel like how you felt for Fyodor and that's not Chuuya’s fault. 

“Oh Chuuya I'm flattered but-”

He held up his hand. “I needed to confess for my sake even if you did return the feelings so don't be goin’ and apologizing for things out of your control.” Chuuya sighed in defeat “You already have a crush right?”

You didn’t know how to respond to that but you felt eyes burning a hole in your skull causing you to turn around. 

“You can come out of hiding now, I know you're there!”

When Fyodor didn’t want to be found he would climb on top of the roof's entryway and lay there watching the clouds. This was the first time anyone's found him out. He smiled of course you'd notice him. Fyodor was about to sit up when another voice joined the group.

“You found me!~” Dazai cheered in a sing-songy tune as he bounced over to the redhead's side.

Chuuya took a step back. “Hah!? Dazai what the hell? I told you not to follow me!”

“But Chuuya was hiding a box of chocolates. I thought they were for me. Plus it's not following If I showed up here first!” Dazai approached you, taking your hand to give it a kiss. “My sweet belladonna, when did you notice I was here?”

To be honest you were dumbstruck when it was Dazai who came out of hiding “I didn't, I was actually talking about Nikolai. You outed yourself.” Whenever you had the unnerving feeling of being watched Nikolai was always somewhere close by. It was something you surprisingly became accustomed to. 

At first it scared the living daylights out of you. Someone had been following you and you didn’t know if it was a stalker, kidnapper or what. When you expressed your concerns to Nikolai he said that he'd been following you all day but he never saw anyone else watching you. You only laughed at the absurdity. That's when Nikolai started wearing a strong cologne that you swore could be smelled from a mile away. It was less unnerving knowing Kolya was just trying to make sure you were safe, in his own weird way. Bizarre, slightly creepy but ultimately sweet because he's one of your best friends and has come to your rescue once before.

Fyodor frowned, crossing his arms, he should have realized sooner what that smell was but it was fairly breezy and faint enough to disregard. Now that he thought about it he did recall the door opening twice before, but he assumed that the second time he heard the door it was someone leaving. He's relieved that he didn't make his presence known but he does wonder how the two taller men were hiding up until this point. He supposed it didn't matter as long as he stayed quiet but he fears his hiding spot may end up being compromised.

Nikolai ruffled your hair, appearing seemingly out of thin air. “As expected of my little dove,” He paused leaning down into your personal space “Although I was not expecting to hear you have a little crush. Should I be worried they'll steal you away from me.~” 

Nikolai teased you as you rolled your eyes pushing him away. Dazai looked up at the top of the entrance briefly before asking “It's Fyodor right? The one you have a crush on.”

You tensed. Stupid waste of bandages. Of course the person from the detective club would figure it out. You were about to deny the allegations when Nikolai grabbed your hands laughing. “Good luck with that! Knowing Dos-kun, I should be giving you my blessing!”

You groaned “I never said it was Fyodor.”

“You didn’t have to.” Dazai interjected “You always bring handmade chocolates for him each year even though no one can find him outside of class.” Dazai waved his hand around, flourishing his explanation.

Correction, every year, since middle school to be exact. You made chocolate for both Fyodor and Nikolai but while Kolya gladly received the offer you've never actually given it to Fyodor personally. Since this was your last year before university you were determined to find him but then Chuuya confronted you and it turned into this mess.

Dazai pulled out said box of chocolates from his blazer. “When did you!-” You cut yourself off to look through your belongings. Sure enough it was missing. “Whether or not those chocolates are for him is no one's business but mine.” You tried to grab for the box but Dazai held it up higher, smirking. 

Nikolai hugged you from behind resting his chin on your shoulder, preventing you from actually grabbing the chocolate. “Awwwww,” He pouted. “I thought I was special, I take back my blessing. I don't want to share you with Fyodor anymore!”

Turning your attention back to Nikolai you huffed. “That's a first, usually you're thrilled. Did you hit your head or something?” Brushing the hair out of his face you pressed your forehead against his. It was a little warm but not enough to cause concern but maybe you should bring him to the nurse just in case. Nikolai only stared back at you in disbelief. No witty remarks, no silly gags, just a far off stare. His shift in demeanor went unnoticed by you.

“Yeah maybe you should lay down for a bit.” You were still completely ignoring the fact that Dazai had your gift meant for Fyodor. Sigma has complained about Dazai's antics about as much, if not more than Nikolai's. While he's not a bad guy you still wonder what his goal was. As Fyodor's chronic chess partner there was probably no point trying to figure it out. You'd have to leave it be for now and wait to see if anything comes up later.

As Dazai watched you leave with a suddenly non verbal Nikolai. He grinned up at the rooftop. “It would be a shame for these to go to waste but with your name written on them? I'm afraid they might be too bitter for my tastes.”

Fyodor finally showed himself, leaning over the edge. “Then why get involved? I hardly see the merit in your little show.”

“Let's call it an intervention.” Dazai walked up to him waving the chocolate infront of the russian. “Why keep such a distance if the feelings are clearly mutual?”

Fyodor sighed, grabbing the box. “Again I fail to see why it is any of your concern.” 

His concern was not about the feelings being mutual, Fyodor was always thinking of what could possibly express his feelings on white day. After a lot of thought he determined that gifting you land or a country would be sufficient, but doing so for years in a row would ruin the sentiment and he's aware that you are the sentimental type. Not to mention with your current age and relationship status, it would be misconstrued. So why bother? Fyodor was a patient man and he wanted his profession of love to be perfect.

Dazai chuckled to himself. “I don't think you'd understand even if I told you but let's just say,” He hummed putting his hand under his chin “You're not the only one interested in the Sigma family.” He offered a cheeky grin to the other who was clearly uninterested.

Dazai is right. Fyodor doesn’t understand nor is he that concerned either. The plan has already been set in motion and he wouldn't need to wait much longer. Although like he predicted earlier his spot was now compromised. Which is somewhat troublesome. He'll need to find a new place to hide in the future. Fyodor sighed but didn’t say anything more and left the other two on the roof. He had no business with either of them anyways.

“Hey jackass, are we done here?” 

Chuuya crossed his arms walking up to his partner. When Dazai had approached him earlier even he wasn't sure what the mackerel's plans were but Chuuya wasn't too concerned. It's been hard for everyone in their grade level to watch (Y/N) pine after that anemic bastard for years. Honestly he felt bad but it's not his problem. He wondered if Dazai had the impulse to help or if he was plotting something else.

___

“I've talked it over with Dostoevsky, and after watching you over the years I can only assume you feel the same about this.” He chuckled  a little too giddy for your liking. “We’ve decided that you and Fyodor are to be betrothed and will marry upon graduation!” Your father said it with a big smile despite your clearly shocked expression. Your mind was going a mile a minute with the sudden news. This was probably the worst case scenario. Sure your dad’s heart was in the right place, you knew he would do anything for his little girl but this was pushing the envelope even for him. Did he really have to get involved with your love life? 

“We wanted to make the announcements at the beginning of the year but we thought it best to hold it off until finals were complete since they moved them up a great deal from past years. Although we’ve been mulling this decision over since you were kids, oh how the time flies. My little girl is all grown up now!”

He engulfed you in a hug but what you thought should have been warm comforting words only stirred the dread in your stomach. Since you were kids? Did Fyodor know about this? Is that why no one could ever find him on Valentine’s day, because he knew you were engaged. The more you think about it the more confused it makes you. If that was the case wouldn’t he have talked to you about it or does that mean he didn’t have a say in the engagement either? Would he even want to get married, let alone to you? 

It seemed your father was ignoring your visible distress and was continuing on about the wedding plans. All things you thought you would have a final say in but it seems he’s already done most of the work with that as well. A ring was placed in your hand and you were to start wearing it tomorrow as would Fyodor. This was really happening. By the time you left his office you were at a loss for words.

Sigma caught up to you as you were making your way through the halls and you showed him the ring on your finger.

“I’m engaged to Fyodor.” It was still sinking in and part of you wanted to scream with joy but only just. The other half of you knew that it didn’t matter since Fyodor clearly didn’t feel the same way. If he did want to marry you surely he would have proposed to you himself instead of letting your fathers' make the declaration. Fyodor knows how much of a hopeless romantic you were for that kind of thing and you know how much the other craves control. Thinking back is that why he gave you his first kiss? Now you were even more embarrassed about that night. 

Sigma looked at you with an incredulous look. He’s known about your crush for years but hasn’t said anything because it’s really not his place to say. “I would say congratulations but you look like you're about to cry and that doesn’t exactly bode well for me at the moment. On either front.” He opened his arms for a hug as you flopped into them. “Why? Did father ask to see you as well?”

“Unfortunately yes and if that’s what he called you in for I can only imagine what business he has with me. For all I know I’ll be arranged to marry Nikolai.” He grimaced just thinking about it. Nothing against Nikolai but he tends to drive Sigma up a wall with his spontaneity. “But that’s not important, why is my dear sister upset? I thought you were madly in love with Fyodor?”

You froze. “Our fathers’ have apparently been planning this for years,” you grew quiet, exponentially embarrassed and flabbergasted that your family knew. “Are my feelings really that obvious?”

Sigma sighs rubbing your back “To everyone but Fyodor it seems. Either that or he doesn’t want to bring it up? You can never tell with him.” You pulled away. That wasn’t very reassuring but it was better, not, to think about it before you talk to the russian in question. Who knows your dad did say that after observing you both it seemed like a logical conclusion, maybe the feelings were mutual. Otherwise you were going to feel like shit knowing that you’re basically taking advantage of him and that your entire marriage would be a sham and just a front for your parents business ventures. 

Now that you’re no longer in the room groveling in embarrassment, you're pretty sure he said something about desiring an heir. Although you don’t want to think about that at all, in fact the thought mortifies you all together. It just makes you feel nauseous without confirming Fyodor’s feelings because what if he views you like a sister and you were expected to make a lovechild together. This was going to keep you up all night. Would Fyodor even bat an eye at the circumstances? You tried to ignore the train of thought pushing less than innocent images of your crush out of your head. It was only the beginning of the weekend but you were already dreading going back to class.

Sure enough when Monday came around it’s all you heard people talking about. Your engagement. The entire student body was in an uproar because you both came to school wearing matching rings. Well, it was that and an article about your family’s merger and that it was rumored to be due to the young love shared between you and Fyodor. Which was a bunch of bullshit that your fathers’ had planned for better business. Honestly you don’t know if it was smart or stupid of them. Although now many things from your childhood started to click into place beginning with your first playdate. You didn’t know what to make of it and you didn’t want to think about it anymore. It was too much for you and you wanted to rip the bandaid off.

When the bell rang you didn’t get up from your desk immediately, you were too tired from agonizing over what you would even say to Fyodor. You rested your head. Arriving at school had been a constant flood of peers congratulating you on your engagement. Girls were telling you that you were so lucky to be marrying one of the most handsome boys the school had to offer. It reminded you that despite Fyodor’s cold personality he seemed to garner a lot of popularity with the opposite gender. So many of these girls, who you've never seen before in your life, were coming up to you expressing their crushes for your fiance and how if they were to lose their chances it should be to you. This all felt like some elaborate prank.

You were dragged out of your thoughts when the murmurs from the hall fell silent. Slowly you turned your head to see Fyodor with a semi uncomfortable expression. It must be from all the attention the two of you were getting. His arm was extended as if he was about to pat your head but he continued to reach out offering to assist you out of your seat. Your eyes were trained on the ring on his finger. It suited him well and even matched your own despite the designs being different. Looking at your own, you only now realize how perfectly it was tailored to your personal liking. It matched the locket you've been wearing everyday. The one that Fyodor gave to you after returning from the study abroad. You wonder who picked out the ring if it matched the locket. Surely not your father. Maybe the Dostoevsky’s had a favorite jeweler they work with. Was that a mere coincidence?

Glancing up at Fyodor again you swallowed hard. This was the first time you've seen him since the engagement. You avoided his eyes directly as the heat started to spread to your face. In turn you didn’t get to witness how Fyodor’s expression softened immensely, finally being in your presence.

“How was your trip?” 

You had tried to get a hold of him when your father told you the news but Nikolai informed you that his father was taking him to attend a business conference out of town and you didn’t want to pester him because it sounded important.

“As expected of a last minute venture.” 

He frowned that you were hesitant to take his hand. Now that you were engaged, Fyodor didn’t feel the need to hold back some of his physical urges towards you. It baffled him that you weren't reciprocating like your usual persona. 

“You haven’t been sleeping well, shall I escort you to the nurse?”

His tone was indecipherable as always. You sighed, grabbing his hand flashing your matching ring to him as he gently brought it to his mouth to place a kiss to the silver band. The action made your heart jump as you looked at him with wide eyes. You could hear the chatter of your classmates resume in the distance. He must be playing it up for the audience but it still managed to fluster you. 

“That's  not necessary!” You exclaimed bashfully before calmly adding. “I-I haven’t been but it's not that important. I, uh, do you mind if we go somewhere else?”

“Of course not my dear. As you wish.”

Your hand burned as he ushered you away from the crowds to the roof. The term of endearment made your heart flutter again. Fyodor checked if there was anyone else around before he motioned for you to sit with him.

Without hesitation you blurted out the demand that has been on your mind. 

“You have to break the engagement.”

Fyodor blinked a few times before retaliating, wholeheartedly unsure as to why you would want him to do so. 

“My my, I've been gone for three days and my fiance has had enough of me.”

The words were exhilarating to say out loud. He had been waiting years to call you his fiance, even though at the moment you appeared distraught. Fyodor shook his head playfully, smiling at you as you huffed. 

“This isn't funny Fyodor, I'm being serious.”

“As am I. Why should I break the engagement? If you have a problem you should take that up with your father?” 

He was trying to avoid how hurt he was at the notion. What happened to your feelings for him? He couldn't possibly have misjudged those could he? Dazai even confirmed them to be mutual unless that was his angle all along. That rat bastard sticking his nose in other people's business. If it wasn't frowned upon he would have him shot, stabbed, drowned and then shot again but this time by Chuuya for meddling.

The way Fyodor spoke so nonchalantly was unnerving to you. How could he be so unbothered? “I tried but he's planned everything to the letter. I didn't even get to choose my dress! So you need to be the one to break it off.” It's bothered you all weekend and kept you up at night. The only way to find out Fyodor's true feelings for you was to see how he reacts to you trying to stop your inevitable marriage.

Fyodor raises an eyebrow before wearing a very careful expression. It was actually Fyodor who made most of those decisions for the wedding. In the back of his mind he was worried that his father would deny his proposal if he didn't see any promise. Nikolai never had a problem being openly affectionate towards you and he knows your father had noticed that as well. Fyodor wanted to make sure he still had a chance to be considered a valuable suitor. He was thinking that at some point you would get to weigh in on the final plans anyhow. He favored being meticulous about those kinds of details, however he must admit that maybe for this instance he might have gone overboard but you deserved the world and Fyodor wanted to provide as much as possible. 

“Is that why you haven't slept? You should try to rest while it's still free period. Our discussion can wait until you are in the right mind.” 

He sounded concerned as he started taking his blazer off while pulling you into his lap. For the first time he didn’t know what to say to make you feel better. His body more or less moved on its own craving the closeness to ease the sting of you not wanting to marry him. What happened while he was gone? Did Nikolai make a move or did someone else capture your heart? Again he immediately blames Dazai for getting involved. Fyodor kissed your forehead holding you possessively against his chest. Where did he go wrong? His plan to win over the adults worked out perfectly. Why were you suddenly giving so much push back?

You were awestruck at the action letting Fyodor move you as he draped his blazer around like a blanket. It felt like this was a dream like you would wake up from this fairytale that your brain knew you craved. The kiss to the forehead plus the way you were sitting, you've always wanted to sit with him like this but it was too good to be real. Since when was he so physically affectionate? It made your heart clench, it was all just an act. Your head was killing you from working overtime. Despite it all you still felt overwhelmingly safe in Fyodor's arms and your eyes fell closed as you got comfortable. You loved him but you hate this.

After a beat Fyodor spoke. “We couldn't break the engagement even if we wanted to, not without destroying the reputations of our family names while we're at it. Would it really be that torturous to be my wife?” 

His words were as logical as ever. At least some things never change.

You didn’t have the strength to reply but you knew he was right. Although his voice sounded strange, you couldn't put a finger on why. The wording was odd even for Fyodor but like he said earlier you probably weren't thinking straight. You nuzzled into him further, not thinking much of it and drifted off to sleep. You already got your answer anyhow. Fyodor doesn’t love you the same way you love him. That was the only explanation. He cares for you deeply but you doubt he loves you as more than friends. It would hurt you if you weren't already prepared for this outcome. You've known for years that he just wasn't the romantic type and maybe that’s why it was so easy to crush on him, because you knew you never had a chance. 

Love, romance, affection? Those were all ideas you wanted. Things you craved to have but the vulnerability that comes with it terrifies you. To lay yourself bare in another's trust. It's why you push Nikolai away as well. He loves you so much and you're mortified to take a leap of faith even though you know he would catch you. He always has.

___

Part 3 coming soon

Tagslist: @skullyz1 , @tttttttf , @ayameshu

#bsd imagines #bsd fanfic #bsd x reader #fyodor imagines #nikolai imagines #fyodor x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #based on a dream i had #xreader #x reader #my bsd brainrot is showing

[humiliatingsluts]

True Dominance: Part 1

This is the first part of the true story of meeting @myreallovelymind. Make sure you go read her writing of the same events. We both posted these without reading each others' writing. Make sure to read both True Dominance and True Submission.

—

We met on Tumblr, of course. It’s not unusual that I get messages looking for attention, tasks, approval, or to sell me something. The unusual part was how articulate and respectful this message was:

“Good evening Sir/Daddy. I don't know which one you prefer. You probably won't see or respond to this message but I just wanted to say thank you for your blog. You're making me want to try humiliating things to please men. I've never wanted to rim a man more than listening to that audio. To thank you, I wanted to send you a picture of me kneeling. I hope you have a lovely evening.”

And of course, a photo of her kneeling. I was intrigued, and we started chatting more. She loved doing tasks to please me, and it wasn’t long before we were talking every day and she was hanging off my every word.

I could write another whole story of all the tasks she did online. She was deeply submissive without a hint of brattiness, and she loved to be denied. She got so desperate and pathetic as I pushed her to humiliate herself. We quickly realised we lived merely two hours apart. That didn’t guarantee we’d end up meeting but it seemed like we both wanted it. Eventually, we lined up a weekend: only three weeks away.

The first and easiest decision was whether she would get to cum before meeting me: of course not. I felt like even a ruined orgasm would be too much of a treat, so I kept her fully denied. She craved total denial. She needed total denial. But she didn’t know it yet. So she begged. She pleaded and she whined and she messaged over and over, asking for relief. She said she’d do anything just to ruin one orgasm. It took her a while to understand that my orgasms are what matter. After a week, I told her she was not even allowed to ask to ruin or cum. She was denied even the pleasure of being denied. If and when she broke down and begged, she was to write a tally mark on her inner thigh. In two weeks she got twenty-three marks.

During the last week before she arrived she had to study. I gave her a simple routine: for the first forty minutes of the hour she was to study and focus. Then for the final twenty, she was to edge. She repeated this every hour while I was at work. Eight hours of edging and stopping. She found it almost easy at first. But by Thursday she was broken. She cried from desperation. I loved the control, she was losing her ability to think of anything but serving me and earning a ruined orgasm. Luckily (for her) she was too busy on Friday to try again and she got the day off. Finally it was Saturday morning. I didn’t allow her to touch at all before her midday train.

—

The next part of the story will be a lot more exciting from her end. The weather was hot so rather than wearing jeans, she wore a dress. She didn’t wear the lingerie she had bought for me, in case it got ruined with sweat. The best part of her outfit was the toy hidden under her dress. It almost doesn’t sound real (and I thought she might chicken out on the day). She spent nearly two hours on a train with a vibrator lightly buzzing inside her. It’s a bendy Lush toy – one where half goes inside and half curves to press against the clit. Both parts could be controlled online.

The train wasn’t quite as exciting as I’d write it to be, if it wasn’t all completely true. Firstly, I had to make myself lunch, so I couldn’t control the toy the entire time. Secondly, the train internet was poor, and I got disconnected often. But it was still thrilling sliding the power up on her clit and knowing she was squirming in her train seat. About half an hour before she arrived, I left to go to the shops to make sure I was there in plenty of time.

Now I was slightly nervous. We had video called and talked plenty, but meeting someone off the internet, you can never be sure. I will say that standing in the bread aisle picking out a loaf while casually adjusting the vibrator inside her pussy did help with my nerves. Eventually I found myself standing in the station, scanning the crowds and hoping she looked like her pictures.

And there she was. I was excited. She actually looked better than online, in fact she was very hot. Mostly I’d seen pictures of her body, but she was actually pretty too. I hadn’t realised that she was a foot shorter than me, and knowing how small she’d feel beneath me was exciting. We had casual but nervous conversation on the walk back to my flat. I had hoped to play with her toy, or even grope her in public, but the city was too busy on a sunny Saturday. Ten minutes later, we were in my flat.

—

The first moment alone was the part that could have gone worst. After all, we both knew why we were there, but there was still a tension before we acted on it. She dropped her bag and coat and stood in front of me. It’s obvious when you read this now that I had to take the lead (what does being a dom mean?) but considering she’d arrived about fifteen minutes ago part of me thought she’d tell me to slow down. I held her by the waist and kissed her.

There were absolutely no nerves now. I was touching her all over, pulling her body against mine and feeling her melt. I ran my hand up her thigh and moaned into her mouth when I found the toy. I held her head still and kissed her, enjoying every little moan and gasp as I touched her. I led her hand to my cock and she obediently took it out and began slowly jerking me off. I was already so hard and I needed to use her.

I led her to the sofa and sat. She had completely surrendered control and I started undressing her, licking and biting her body as it was revealed. I could tell she was already falling into subspace, and once she was naked I inspected her: the tally marks and the word “denied” written across her lower stomach, the toy that was still inside her, her pussy that was dripping down her thighs, her tits and the way she shivered and moaned when I squeezed them. Finally having her in front of me after weeks of teasing, sexting, all the lust we had built up was unleashed.

I ordered her onto her knees. She had waited so long to suck my cock, and I had waited so long for her to serve me. She didn’t waste any time. She was sucking my cock greedily, desperately, moaning and worshipping. I let her serve, sitting back and enjoying the sensations, only helping keep her hair out of her face.

Gradually, I guided her lower. I knew she had never rimmed anyone, and I wanted to enjoy it. She was so enthusiastic on my balls, and I couldn’t help smirking at her as she licked lower and lower. I’ve always loved the sight of eyes looking up at me from under my balls, and I nearly came while she lapped at my asshole and jerked off my cock. I let her kiss and lick my ass for a while, enjoying the sloppy wet sounds of her tongue.

Then I realised the toy was still inside her, not vibrating. I turned it on and she shuddered and moaned. As I turned it up she struggled to keep focus, moaning and trying so hard to be good as her pussy took over. She pressed her face against my thigh and moaned and sighed, unable to multitask. I knew if I kept going one or both of us would cum far too soon.

I stood and pulled her up too. I held her by her hair and pulled her with me to the bedroom. She got on the bed on all fours, still using her toy, moaning and begging to be fucked. I take a minute to admire her body. Online I had seen photos, but she looked even better in person. Her ass and pussy were spread and swollen, dripping with need. She pressed her face and tits into the mattress in a perfect arch.

I slowly pulled out her toy, and then I was inside her. She was so wet and so tight, and I mounted her, fucking her into the bed and grabbing her everywhere. I’d like to describe all the kinky and gross things we said or did but all I can remember is the feeling of cumming inside her and collapsing. Sometimes all you need is to lose yourself in pleasure.

—

Follow HumiliatingSluts for new writing every Friday.

#my writing #True Dominance #True Submission

[jeons-catalyst]

I'm writing this ask with the supposition that jikook are a couple - this is based on guessing and cannot be confirmed in any way at present and everything I'm writing next is subject to that. Just wanted to get that out of the way.

The thing that gets to me is when people say in a superior tone "oh do you think he would act like that if he was his boyfriend?". Firstly of course they're not going to openly do coupley things - everyone knows BTS is intimate so jikook can get away with a couple of things here and there but they're not actually a public couple that can always openly behave like that especially as they grew bigger and bigger.

Secondly, and this is for when either of them do something that gets overanalyzed to death like if they select another person first on a team or talk about someone else in an interview or go on a trip / outing without the other or make fun of each other for something even if it's a bit insensitive and people will chuckle and say "would a couple behave like this?" and this drives me crazy because as someone in a long term relationship with couple friends who are older who are also in long term relationships - YES! Couples DO behave like this! Of course the ones that go overboard with all this are toxic but regular people relationships aren't the same as what you read in romance novels where a single misstep or a slightly off conversation makes you realize that person isn't the one. Even when you enjoy being with each other all the time, its also normal to go on trips with your friends and spend time with them too.

Like I said in the beginning, jikook may not necessarily be together but when jikook-antis bring out absolutely normal things and use that as evidence for them being distant, it always drives me nuts. Even if you yourself are in some idyllic 10 year relationship where you're always attached at the hip to each other and have never said something dumb to your partner, surely you've seen other couples exhibit this behaviour? It vexes me! I'm vexed! Vexed enough to use the word vex, maybe for the first time!

Don’t be vexxed anon lol.

You have literally said everything i had in mind. One of the stupidest things i hear people say all the time is “Do you think Jikook will behave like this if they are a couple” or “do you think the company will let them do this or that if they are a couple?”

First of all, i think so many times people forget that none of us are Jimin or Jungkook and the fact that you cannot imagine yourself behaving the same way if you were in their shoes doesn’t mean that they won’t. The circumstances that Jimin and Jungkook are in are very unique circumstances and i say unique because i don’t think any of us can stand and say, “i know exactly what it feels like to be a member of the biggest boy band in the world, who happens to be queer, living in a homophobic country and is in a romantic relationship with a same sex bandmate.” How many of us can say this? Literally none of us so no matter how much we try to understand it, we will never completely get it because we just haven’t walked in those shoes.

It’s nobody’s place to say with certainty that “they would never do this” because you don’t know that. Ofcourse nobody would expect Jimin and Jungkook to kiss or have sex infront of the cameras but there are certain things they could do maybe because they know they can get away with it. People also forget that Jimin and Jungkook are human beings which means that they would slip up sometimes and that is how we find out certain things. No matter how much they want to, they cannot always be 100% careful. Something they feel things and want to act on them and then you see them trying to catch themselves midway probably because they just became aware again that they are in public or infront of cameras.

This momen right here is open for interpretation and it is extremely short but no matter how i think about it, i cannot explain why in that state of joy, Jk immediately went towards Jimin and then took a detour just as he got close to him and then pay attention to Jimin too. It most definitely looked to me like he was about to cup Jk face or something and then quickly withdrew his hands.

So sometimes it definitely feels like they mess up and that is how we “catch” them.

Another thing that many people just do not consider is that all the members are close to each other. They literally lived untop of each other for so long and shared everything with each other. Jk is not supposed to only hang out with Jimin just because they might be in a romantic relationship. Jk is not supposed to think that Jimin is the best at everything just because Jimin might be his boyfriend. Jk can choose other members over Jimin for different things and Jimin can do the same. Jimin and Jungkook can hang out with other members, go on trips with other members or even share certain things first with other members. This is 100% normal and the people who don’t know this either have no experience in healthy relationships or are just being trolls. I have gone on so many trips with my best friend without our significant others. We have hung out together so many times alone or with other friends, and there is certain things i would prefer to share first with my friends before i share with significant other. All these things are 100% normal so when i see people who use these things to try to debunk jikook, it really makes me laugh because what hole did you crawl out from to not even understand the basics of healthy relationships?

Couples tease each other all the time especially the ones who start out as friends or are already secure in their relationship. Plus, people also forget that these are guys. You cannot compare gay relationships with straight relationships and especially ones like these where they most likely started out as friends before things developed into more and that excessive teasing which people like to use to debunk jikook actually shows how close and comfortable those two are with each other because you don’t tease people as much unless you have a very close relationship with them and understand that they won’t take your teasing personally. Plus, with relationships like this which they are forced to hide from the world, those two have to find different ways to make things fun for them. A regular couple would openly flirt with each other in obvious ways but who people who are closeted, they may find different ways to do it which are not very obvious.

The anti shippers or rival shippers always come with shit like this thinking they are so smart but they don’t even realize that they are comparing Jimin and Jungkook to normal couples even though there us literally nothing “normal” about Jimin and Jungkook’s circumstances (assuming they are actually more than friends).

So anon, don’t let these things vex you lol. Everybody doesn’t have the mental capacity to understand complex situations because everyone tends to oversimplify everything. Plus, not everyone has experience in real life relationships. All they know are fanfics, romance novels and movies so when they see reality, they call it toxic or fake.

#jikook #jungkook #jimin

[plussizefantasia]

Horrible People

Tony Stark x Plus Size!f!Reader

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Cyberbullying, allusions to a panic attack

Request: i just noticed you wrote for marvel and better off you wrote for tony. I was hoping you could write me a story about tony meeting a bigger girl and starting to date her and he finds out someone made fun of her in the tabloids and she gets insecure but he makes her feel positive again? it would mean alot really.

@lilacprincessofrecovery Happy Birthday! I wrote this really fast for you so I hope you enjoy it! Have a great day lovely!

Never in your life did you think you’d be walking the carpet at the MET Gala. Never mind the fact that tickets were 75k each and that was more than you made in a year, you weren’t on any kind of list that might’ve warranted an invitation. But Tony was.

Your wonderful and loving boyfriend of a year, Tony Stark, was definitely the kind of person that got an invite to the most exclusive event of the year. And because he loved you and knew that this was something you’d enjoy, he’d told his assistant to send an RSVP to Anna and to reach out to any designers who wanted to work with him. 

The process of getting fitted for your dress was a unique one, Tony wanted you to be comfortable so he had asked the designer to meet with the two of you at his home in Malibu. That meant that you were wildly uncomfortable, standing in a mockup of a dress that was more luxurious and ostentatious than anything you owned, but at least you were doing it in your living room. The entire process from consultation to fitting to actually getting ready the day of was about six months, you had no idea that it took that long to get this kind of thing ready but you weren’t exactly surprised.

Tony had insisted that the two of you get ready in the same hotel room, mostly so that he could shower you in compliments all day.

“Look at you Pretty Girl, you look gorgeous.”

“Damn Baby, that color looks really good on you.”

“Are you sure we have to go? I could spend all night staring at you and have way more fun.” That one earned him a glare from you followed by, “Tony… I’ve been getting ready for three hours already. We’re going.” 

Tony’s compliments really worked though, you felt amazing and the nerves that you had woken up with had dissipated at his relentless teasing and flirting throughout the day. Alas, they came back with a vengeance when it was time to actually leave for the carpet. Tony had escorted you down to the lobby where the two of you were told to wait while Happy and the rest of the security team established a path through the mix of fans and paparazzi that were crowded in front of the hotel entrance. When you were given the go-ahead, Tony placed his hand in the middle of your back and curled you into his side. He took measured but quick steps to get you into the car as soon as possible, not stopping for a picture or autographs even if the crowd was yelling for his attention.

Once you were seated in the back of the black town car, Tony kissed the back of your hand. 

“That was the worst of it, Darling, from now everything will be smooth sailing.”

You didn’t know how he thought that walking up a long ass flight of stairs in the most elaborate dress you’ve ever worn while being blinded by flashes of cameras could be considered ‘smooth sailing’ but you knew that with Tony by your side nothing could really go that wrong. 

Stepping out of the car and into the entrance of the event was like stepping into another world, people a lot more famous than you were everywhere, all dressed to the nines and laughing while talking to each other.

Tony’s hand in yours was grounding, and so was the little kiss that he gently placed on the side of your head, being mindful of the time and energy that went into your hair and makeup for the evening.

Eventually, it was your turn to walk the carpet. You were being lectured by a woman in a simpler black dress with a headset. Telling you that you had to walk fast enough to keep pace but not too fast that you run into the person ahead of you. She told you that everyone had time to stop for one interview and no time to dilly dally or you’d throw off the rhythm of the whole event.

You tried your best to make sure that no terror was showing on your face when you and Tony took your first steps out of the corral and onto the carpet. Immediately you were blinded by flashes and had to stop yourself from flinching. Meanwhile Tony looked like he was in his element, posing effortlessly in his themed suit all while never removing his hand from your body. 

He subtly pushed you forward and made eye contact with you the man you didn’t move forward. He raised an eyebrow at you, “you okay?” His expression asked.

He leaned closer to you and whispered with his face turned away from the cameras, “One word and we go home, no questions asked.” 

The warmth that spread across your face was thankfully covered thanks to the masterful makeup that had been applied. Tony’s words did the trick though. And with much more confidence than you had just moments before you stepped forward and saunter to the next spot that you had been told to go stand at.

A smirk spread across Tony’s face and he followed your lead, strutting along behind you and cheesing for the cameras. 

After that, it really was smooth sailing. You and Tony took pictures together and apart, you walked the carpet flawlessly and he couldn’t have been prouder. You had a great evening, and you met some people that you five years ago would’ve screamed cried, and thrown up at the prospect of meeting let alone having an actual conversation with. 

Once the main event had died down and most of the attendees were either heading home or to some after-party or another you and Tony had decided to call it quits as well, after all, he might’ve been a billionaire genius ex-playboy philanthropist but you were a normal human being and needed to be at work the day after. 

The two of you were still immaculately dressed when he leaned over in the car with his signature mischievous grin, “Hey Pretty Girl, are you hungry?”

“What?” You laughed in reply

“Are you hungry?” He asked again his smirk not faltering.

“We can order room services when we get back to the hotel, Tony.”

“Or Sweetheart, hear me out. We could go get burgers. I know this great hole-in-the-wall spot and it’s only five minutes away.”

“Tony, neither of us is exactly dressed for hole-in-the-wall right now.”

“Who cares? I don’t, I’m hungry and I want to share a burger with my amazing and sexy girlfriend and a great place that I know. The only thing keeping me from doing that is her being hesitant.”

“You're being pushy you know that? But sure, let’s go get burgers.”

“Happy, change the course please, let’s go to Mc’Rory’s for a burger and a drink,” Tony called up to his forehead of security who had assigned himself and your driver for the evening.

“Want to stop at the hotel first boss?” Happy raised a single brow and made eye contact with Tony through the rearview mirror.

“Nope, just head straight there we’re hungry.”

“Oh-Kay.” Happy replied. 

The place was a literal hole in the wall, after the space needed for the kitchen where there was only room for two tables, and You and Tony took up one while you waited for your orders to be done, Happy was sitting at the other, also waiting for his food but wanting to give the two of you some space.

“So Honey, did you have fun?” Tony asked

“I don’t know if fun is the word but I had a good time, I definitely don’t want to come back though.”

“Why not? I get invited every year I just have never had a reason to go before now.”

“What new and compelling reason did you have for this year?” You chuckled.

“I had a gorgeous date to go with who I wanted to show off.” He looked into your eyes and you were once again struck with how much love you had for this man and how much love he had for you. The world had not been kind to Tony Stark but you would spend the rest of your life trying to make it up to him.

“Well shucks, I guess I had a pretty swell date too.” 

“You sound like you’ve been spending too much time with Mr. Righteous and his Boy Wonder.”

“I wouldn’t say that Bucky is Boy Wonder more like a broodier and more cyborg version of Steve.”

“And why are we talking about those dinosaurs?”

“You brought them up!”

“And now I’m changing the topic, did you get a chance to read through the article I sent you the other day?” 

The two of you continued talking until your orders were placed at the table between the two of you. At which point both of you realized that it had been something like nine hours since either of you had anything decent or filling to eat and the conversation ended while you both pretty much inhaled your dinner.

You must’ve looked like quite the pair. Both of you dressed the way you were, in corresponding outfits covered in flora and fauna motifs while devoting a burger in a red booth. It was defined top ten on your surrealist moments' lists which has gotten significantly longer since you started dating Tony, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Your night ended very similarly to how it started. With Tony showering you with compliments in a hotel room, only this time you weren’t getting all dolled up. This time you were barefaced with your hair mussed up and comfy pjs covering your body. It made your heart flutter that Tony still thought you were beautiful even when you were dressed down to your most basic. There was no makeup trickery or shapewear smoothing your body at that moment, just you and all your imperfections, and Tony looked at them and saw nothing but beauty. 

You crawled into the large bed and waited for him to turn off the lights and join you. He played down only seconds after you and pulled you so that you were halfway on top of him, your head tucked nicely into the dip of his neck.

“I really love you, you know that?” You whispered into the dark of the room.

“I love you too, so much Angel.”

The two of you fell asleep within minutes.

The next morning you were awoken to the buzzing of your phone against the wood of the nightstand, Tony’s phone vibrating just as viciously on his side of the bed. 

You figured that it was pictures of the two of you groom last night and opened your phone to see all the high-quality images that were being posted everywhere of the two of you on the carpet. And you weren’t wrong, the images blowing up were of the two of you and they were from last night but they weren’t on the carpet. Apparently you and Tony had been pretty lax in your observation skills last night or you would’ve noticed the person taking your pictures outside of the burger joint. Because there it was, all over your phone. Pictures of you and Tony still in your fancy outfits pigging out on burgers with various captions, each more vicious than the last. 

The one that really caught you off guard was on some celeb gossip page, “Tony Stark takes unknown to Met Gala: he can do better” It wasn’t the worst one there was by far. There were all kinds of ribs being made about your size, about the way you ate, about everything. It wasn’t until someone said the words that were always floating around in the back of your mind out loud that you really began to fall apart. 

It was your gasping breaths that woke Tony up. He noticed you sitting upright in the bed next to him, phone in hand and tears streaming down your face.

“Woah, woah baby what’s going on? What’s wrong?!” He shot up too, getting on your level. You only handed him the phone unable to get any words out.

He looked briefly at the images across the screen at first not seeing the problem. It was a cute picture, very ‘the two of you’ to be dressed up and eating burgers in a dive like that but when he read the caption he saw red. 

Your choked sob brought him back from the brink of rage but he filed the feeling away for later, he’d track down whoever had written the nasty words, the cameraman, the publisher. Anyone and everyone involved in making you cry would be paying for it later.

He pulled you into his arms and winced when you started to cry harder. As much as he wanted to get to the bottom of it you weren’t in a place to talk yet. He just had to take care of you until you were. 

It was difficult marching the two of you out of bed without letting go of you but he managed, all the while smoothing a hand up and down your back and whispering praises into your head.

“Doing so good Pretty Girl, breathe, yeah just like that.”

“It’s gonna be okay, we’ll talk in a little bit.”

“Thats it, you’re doing so well.”

He guided you to the shower and turned the water to a warm temperature, not wanting to force you to feel anything too harsh at the moment.

Slowly and step by step he walked through your morning routine, washing your hair for you and helping you with your face routine. 

When he looked into your eyes and saw a daft tenderness he knew that you were going to be okay, the both of you. 

Even if he knew that it would make you upset he knew that the two of you needed to talk about everything, getting it out into the open was the only way that it wouldn’t come back to bite you later. 

“Okay, Darling. I’m going to go get breakfast for us, you take your time getting dressed and when I come back we can eat and talk okay?”

You nodded, “Okay.” He hated how he could still hear the sadness in your voice but he pushed a kiss to your lips and grabbed his phone before making his exit. All you heard as he left was Tony on the phone, “Hap- I got a job for you” and the door was closed.

You let yourself breathe for just a moment longer before moving to do as Tony said, and getting dressed before sitting back down in the middle of the bed. You didn’t dare pick your phone back up, just sitting in silence until he walked back through the door holding a brown bag.

“I got breakfast burritos from that brunch place down the street okay?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” You didn’t think you’d actually be able to eat anything.  

There was a slightly tense silence between the two of you for a few moments as Tony gave you your food and then sat down across from you with his.

“I’m sorry” you both blurted out at the same time.

“Woah, sweetheart what are you sorry for?”

“I don’t know… for not being enough, for being too much. Take your pick.” 

“Okay none of that pretty girl, you are none of those things you are just right, you are absolutely perfect let’s get that straight right now.”

“But- you saw-“

“Nug-uh what I saw was some random person who doesn’t know either of us, spewing hate behind a screen. I saw horrible people being horrible for no reason and that is not your fault Baby.”

“I’m still sorry, I saw how mad you were, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“You didn’t make me upset at all Babe, none of how I was feeling this morning was your fault okay? None of it.”

“Well- wait. Did you say you were sorry? Why the hell are you sorry?”

“I should’ve been watching better last night. I was just so focused on you and how relaxed I was feeling with you that I didn’t notice that asshole following us or taking our picture.”

“Tony. Thousands of people took our picture yesterday, you couldn’t have protected me even if you wanted to. I wanted to go remember?”

“You said you had a good time last night. Do you feel any different now?” The question caught you off guard. 

“Well-no. I still had a really good time. I always have a good time when we’re together.”

“Then why does it matter what strangers on the internet think of us?”

“I mean- don’t you care that people think-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there. The answer is no. I don’t care what people think, not anymore. Not since I met you. You have this uncanny ability to make me feel like nobody in the world but us matters.”

“What if they’re right though?” You asked in a quiet voice.

“Right about what Baby?”

“What if you can do better? What if one day you wake up and realize that you’re settling.”

“There is not a universe out there where me being with you is settling. You’re it for me Sweetheart. You're all I’ve got, the light of my life. The yin to my yang, the peanut butter to my jelly, the wasabi to my peas.”

“You made that last one up.” You let out a soft laugh.

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.”

You both smiled stupidly at each other.

“Hey Tony?” You asked.

“Yeah, Pretty Girl?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, and so do they.”

You’re face adopted a look of confusion as Tony handed you his phone. On his screen was a couple of pictures he had posted of the two of you from yesterday. Pictures of you getting ready. Of you making stupid faces at him while getting your hair done, of the two of you in the back of the car on the way to the Gala, and one of the most beautiful pictures you’ve ever seen of yourself. 

It’s a wide shot of the two of you, you’d just started walking up the stairs and Tony is two steps below you. In the photo, you’re looking back at him and have this gorgeous smile spread across your lips. Tony stands underneath you, adoration clear in his eyes as he reaches a hand up to meet your outstretched one.

It isn’t the beautiful pictures that catch your eyes though, it’s the millions of comments that the post has.

“Omg slay.”

“Get you someone who looks at you the way Tony looks at this goddess right here.”

“She looks so happy.

“They look so good together.”

“I can’t tell if I want to be here or want to be with her.”

That last one makes you laugh and you look up from the phone to see Tony looking at you with a soft smile on his face.

“So. Are we going back next year, if so I need to start looking for a designer that can one up this.”

“I’ll go anywhere with you as long as you keep looking at me like that.” You toss his phone back to him.

“I’ll look at you like that until the day I die, Gorgeous. You deserve it.”

“Yeah, I kinda do.” 

#tony stark drabble #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark fluff #tony stark x plus size reader #tony stark x plussize! reader #marvel fanfiction #angst and fluff #plus size reader #plus size!reader #fanfic #x reader #requests open #requests wanted #angst and hurt/comfort #angst and feels

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

Honestly, Im a little disappointed that it wasn't messier. Im disappointed that there wasnt more shouting. That Lauda was providing most of the pushing and everyone else was just kinda... rolling over? I wanted an argument that would have brought the roof down on them 🙄

the reason theres so much constant tension in this party is that they all havent tried hard enough to punch each other in the face - like really smash.

to be totally serious tho, remember when Chetney told Ashton to gtfo and thats what broke the tension? someone finally getting the guts to be mean and to push hard on someone else's reckless bullshit?

the fact that theres no such equivalent here? the fact that chetney hasnt intervened on that level? thats whats keeping this tension.

on one hand, the way some of the party treat laudna is so fucking patronizing, its actively painful - Ashton whispering to Laudna for an apology? wtf? the way they acted like she was a misbehaving toddler set my teeth on edge. Then Imogen... Buddy, pal, you just watched your mother regurgitate Ludinus's lies like they were stone cold facts and youre out here accepting the same thing from Laudna without a second glance. You know she has a problem! You know she's not the most reliable narrator! You know she fails insight checks against herself all the time!!!

Ashton and Imogen both needed to treat Laudna like a threat in that moment bc she attacked someone without provocation during a rest when they were trusting her to not do that and it was clearly premeditated because she covered herself in darkness. The fact that they dont demonstrates that neither are taking her capabilities seriously enough. The fact that they arent addressing the threat she presents - to others and herself - is allowing her to continue hurting herself and others.

Whereas, Fearne is complicit in it all because shes so conflict averse. She was never gonna be the one to hold Laudna over the fire.

Chetney and Orym would have. Orym was trying to but literally only Dorian backed him up. And Dorian doesnt know fuck about all. He joined them two days ago. Hes got no fucking clue whats happening!! Oryms the only one really pointing out the fact that he was attacked unprovoked

and sure laudna was aiming for the sheathe, but thats splitting hairs... i believe we removed targeting each armor piece somewhere in dnd 3.5 or something lol - if youre targeting a piece on someone, the usual call Matt makes is to give this a higher DC. Matt making Marisha roll arcana makes sense bc yes you can control wither and blooms "chosen target", but when the target is attached to something else, and moreover the target is a thing - not a creature like the spell says RAW... it makes sense that a failed arcana check would lead to that failure

for all intents and purposes, laudna was aiming for orym. she didnt mean to hurt him but again, shes operating under the influence (and yes I do mean that connotation). a lot of people do shit they dont mean under the influence. but they still gotta do the repairs when they come back to their senses. harm was still done. Orym attacking laudna bc he was hurt and blinded is also fucking reasonable. he didnt fucking know it was her in the first place.

for laudna to say that orym hurt her when she attacked him - that was grade A manipulation

and heres the thing too, when someone is acting under the influence, people usually call it out. they say stuff like "youre drunk" or "youre high" to acknowledge that hey, this isnt you but also this isnt acceptable either. no one breathed a fucking word about delilah until the very very end. they all treated laudna like she was in a reasonable state of mind, and she wasnt. they werent meeting her where she was at and so they failed to reach her

now to orym... did they all agree that the sword was oryms? bc that was a discussion they did not have... chetney made a one off comment about how theyll need permission for it (possibly implying orym but never explicitly stated)... was the idea that orym gets it because he got hurt first? that wouldve been stupid for sure

to dorian's point, hey its just a sword. swords hurt people. what youre gonna look at every sword with magic geometry and expect to see it cuddling puppies? swords are made to hurt. even when its defending. it can parry but if you need a shield get a shield. sure, this was otohan's sword but the sword is not sentient (laudna girl you need to insight check your patron pls). otohan hurt her not the sword. and to allow her to consume it was more leaning into her trauma - its not setting a good precedent for future healthy coping mechanisms basically

that said, dorian cant just say that without acknowledging the depth of laudnas trauma. the sword actively triggered her. this does reek of a PTSD episode where she went running to a soothing influence. to simply say its just a sword without paying respect to laudna's hurt is also incredibly dismissive - well aimed as it was.

chetney is sus. thats it. thats the take. i dont believe this old man when he said he trusts laudna. i think hes plotting

tl;dr - everyone tried to help laudna, no one tried to stop her which might be the only way to help her now. she needs someone to hold her back and call out when shes under the influence again.

#cr spoilers #critical role

[sourholland]

WELCOME TO THE STYLE MASTERLIST

based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → hope u guys like this :)

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → strong language, alcohol

word count → 3.3k

remember to reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 6

“It’s one picture, don’t drive yourself crazy over it,” Joe’s voice came through your phone. “I get why you’re freaking out, but I think we both agree that it could be a lot worse.”

“That’s the problem. This was our first time out together, who’s to say there aren’t more pictures like this but worse? We haven’t exactly been careful about seeing each other, Joe.”

There was a brief silence, the sound of his car air conditioner creating a white noise in the background of your phone call. He texted you back almost instantaneously after you sent him the screenshot from Twitter. He said he would have to tell his coaches he was having an important family matter so that they would allow him to walk out to take the call in the middle of analyzing game film. It took him all but five minutes to get outside and phone you.

“I know,” he sighed, inhaling a quick breath before he spoke again. “We’ll be better about stuff, you know I’ll make sure I’m not so–”

“It’s more than that and you know it. This doesn’t just end with one shitty photo on Twitter, it only gets worse from here. It makes no difference if we’re trying harder to sneak around because at some point one of us is going to fuck up, that’s if we already haven’t and don’t know, and then would all of this have been worth it?” You snapped at him, thankful he could not see the tears threatening to spill over and dampen your cheeks. “The fucking around and being casual hookup buddies. Will it have been worth it? Maybe for you, but that’s because you’re Joe Burrow and we both know we’re not even in remotely similar spots in this situation.”

“What are fucking talking about? That’s all bullshit, you know that’s bullshit,” his voice raised slightly, a twinge of hurt evident. “Look, Y/N–I understand that we aren’t exactly in the same position, but that doesn’t make it fair for you to act like none of this matters to me or whatever the fuck you’re going on about as far as all of this being worth it. What’s going on between us has never had anything to do with me, or my name, or what position I hold on the team.”

“Do you hear yourself right now? Of course it has something to do with who you are, it always had something to do with who you are and you can’t seriously tell me you don’t know that. You’re in the NFL and a star quarterback for fucks sake. You went to the Super Bowl last year! You can’t seriously sit here and tell me we’re risking the same things?”

The line was quiet, save for the sound of both of you breathing. Perhaps you were being petty, but Joe was being inconsiderate of what a loss of job would mean for you. He sounded hurt by the fact that the two of you hooking up was not a good enough reason to lose out on the extra money. The public humiliation you would receive was a whole different factor to be conquered in itself. While you might not know what this was like for him, he sure as hell wouldn’t ever know what it is like for you. 

Social status and money were such fickle things, seemingly unimportant in some scenarios until suddenly they became the center of the universe again. Joe would never again live a fully mundane life, he couldn’t see through the eyes of a college student who already had trouble making ends meet. It felt so unfair to know how this story would end, however if you could potentially stop it from being made worse, you might be thankful in the long run. 

“You’re right, that was a stupid thing for me to say. But Y/N, I’m just as much in this as you. It’s not easy for me either.”

“It shouldn’t have to be hard,” you sighed, face hot with emotion as you stared downward at your feet. “I just feel like we might be better off leaving this where it is, you know? Before things get messy. Which they will, you know they will.”

Joe didn’t speak at first, his silence left a sharp ache to burrow itself deep within your ribcage. His voice came out firm but hoarse, “If that’s what you want.”

As your breath grew slightly ragged, you realized that you hadn’t been preparing for his nonchalant response. Selfishly, you let a hand slide to your chest and then throat as you swallowed and attempted to formulate a response to his words. The line was silent, save for the sound of Joe’s breathing. 

“Is that what you want?” You asked him.

“It seems like that’s what you want, seeing as you were the one who brought it up. And if this is just sex then why should it matter?” said Joe, his tone defensive and his voice breathier than usual. “This is just sex to you, right?”

No, you wanted to shout at him. This is so much more than sex and you know that, but the second you said it aloud it could not be taken back and then things truly became complicated. Joe wished to provoke you, the tone of his voice said as much. This annoyed you, his desire to make this even more difficult for you. 

“What do you want me to say to that?” 

“It’s a simple question,” Joe hurled, clearly irritated.

“No, it’s not. You know that,” you sniffled. “How I feel about you doesn’t matter when we’re in this situation, anyway.”

“Bullshit, it’s not a simple question because you’re making it complicated. How you feel doesn’t matter because you say it doesn’t matter,” Joe answered furiously. “Look, I have to get back inside, but I just want to say that you saying all of this right now is really fucking selfish. Especially after all of the mixed signals you send… I never know what you actually want from me. One second you’re pissed off at the idea of me even seeing another girl and now you’re breaking stuff off with me over the phone.”

You flinched at his assessment, “I’m just trying to do the right thing for both of us.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

The line went dead and you knew he had hung up, frustrated with you and the entire situation. You let your hands run over your face, feeling a deep pain in your chest as you buried your face into the blankets on your couch that still held his distant scent. He surely hated now, unable to comprehend how deep your feelings for him went. Much deeper than his for you, you were sure of. When you told him that your relationship would grow messy, you hadn’t been lying. However, a piece of you was not solely referring to the conflict within your work. 

You debated calling him back, but knew that he would have already made it back into the facility. He sounded so upset with you, more so than he had ever been before. Joe was usually quite relaxed and level-headed, though now he was most definitely frustrated by the argument itself. 

Joe made no other attempts to contact you for the remainder of the day. That night, you let your phone sit idly by as you made dinner and still nothing. Maybe the two of you had broken up, that was what you had insisted anyways. He made you act like a complete idiot sometimes, thoughts skewed and rash as if you were once again sixteen. Nothing about Joe was in disarray, he always seemed to know exactly what he wanted to say and do. It never came out awkward or clunky, despite how he described his usual anxiety during interviews.

Attempting to sleep was difficult, your mind racing a mile a minute. Thoughts of Joe persisted, leaving you ridden with guilt and sadness about the supposed no contact. You knew not to text, though. Not only would it have been unfair to you, but Joe as well. There was also the fact that it would never work between the two of you, the carousel of disappointment and pain was unavoidable. 

⋆------------⋆

The Bengals lost their next preseason game against the Giants, the game was close but ended the same as the Cardinals had. The only difference in this game was Joe’s attendance, he wore a headset on the sidelines with his coaches as the team played. Still out on injury, he was helping to give instruction to his teammates most of the game. 

You had briefly locked eyes with Joe before the game began, everyone scrambling about to get into positions. His expression was blank, as if he had no idea who you were and there was never anything there. Your eyes raked over him, the way that the shirt he wore hugged his biceps and back. Joe spared the cheerleaders more glances than usual this game, watching more than he ever had time to while playing. You caught his lingering gaze once or twice, mind racing.

The final preseason game against the Rams played out the exact same, save for the fact that the Bengals won. It had been two weeks between the game and the morning of yours and Joe’s heated argument. The post on Twitter had somewhat died off at twenty thousand likes and his fans eventually found something new to speculate about. 

Sydney and Lena were absolutely furious when you divulged all information regarding the fight you had caused, earning a few much deserved playful swots to the arm. They attempted to coerce you into calling him and smoothing things over, insisting that you shouldn’t just end things on such an awful note. Once you explained more of the predicament and how you felt no desire to be ripped apart on the internet or by your coaches, both girls simply sighed and nodded at your decision. They understood how difficult it was for you, especially after silent tears had begun to fall during the long winded explanation of how seriously NFL executives and management took player-cheerleader fraternization and how it would unfortunately not just be swept under the rug when you two inevitably got caught.

The wallowing in self-pity lasted for another week before the girls had finally called for the bedrotting to end, “Babe, don’t cry. Come on, wipe those tears. We’re going out tonight,” said Sydney, sitting criss cross on your bedroom floor. “It’s Friday night, you’re hot as fuck and you’re an NFL cheerleader. I love you so I’m going to be honest with you right now, I get that you fumbled Joe Burrow, but we both know that he was just a guy at the end of the day. So again, you are hot as fuck and we’re going out. What do I always say?”

“I’m not feeling it tonight, Syd,” your reply was muffled as you spoke into the pillow you lay face down into. “Go without me.”

“Bitch, stop. You’re going out, we’re getting fucked up. Lena’s already on her way over here and you know she’s not leaving without you so let’s go. You’ll feel better, by the time we get to the club you’re going to be like ‘Who’s Joe Burrow anyways?’”

“Somehow I highly doubt that,” you sighed, turning to look up at the ceiling. “You don’t want me to come, I’m miserable and sad and I’m only going to spoil everyone’s fun.”

“I don’t care, Y/N. Spoil my fun, ruin my night, I’d say throw up in my clutch but you already managed that last time we went out. I just want to see you out of this bed for something other than practice, work, or class. You’re like a ghost and I’m not going to watch you throw away your senior year because of some erotic work hookup with a guy who I’m sure couldn’t even hold a candle to you,” Sydney spieled, perched on the edge of your bed. “The only way to get over a man is to get under a new one!”

Eventually Sydney did manage to get you up, it only took ripping all of the blankets off of you and hiding your phone. Once Lena came in and began tidying up the somewhat mess you’d been allowing to collect, you realized getting out was probably the best course of action. Although you had no plans of getting under any new guy, Sydney appreciated your partially willing participation once she began to do your hair and makeup. 

Lena dumped a bag of going out tops onto your bed, sifting through them and throwing each top into a certain pile. Some of them were from freshman year, leaving both you and Sydney to cringe and shout at her to make sure it went into the rapidly growing mass of ‘absolutely not’ tops. Eventually you settled for a fitted lilac top, adorned with sheer lace everywhere but the cups. Sydney wore a timeless black bodysuit that she had swiped from your closet during study abroad and Lena opted for blue slip dress and promised Sydney she would take care of her leather jacket if she let her borrow it.

The three of you Ubered to the club, knowing that you planned to drink. As soon as you slid into the backseat of the SUV, Sydney pulled her purse into her lap and was suddenly handing out shooters. There was one Malibu, a Fireball, and a Pink Whitney.

“Fuck that, I can’t even smell that shit without wanting to throw up,” you shook your head, pretending to gag in a dramatic motion. “You’re better off throwing the Pink Shitney out the window.”

“Throw up?” The driver’s head whipped towards the backseat suddenly. “No, no! If you throw up, I charge extra.”

“Nobody is going to throw up, sir,” Lena reassured him and looked back at both you and Sydney with a laugh. “Well, I don’t want it either. Rock, paper, scissors?”

Sydney and Lena went first, Lena won and chose the Malibu. You faced Sydney now, playing rock as she threw out scissors and proceeded to hunch over in fake despair as you snatched the shot of Fireball. Not that the taste was much better, but after a few horrible experiences with Pink Whitney during freshman year, you could no longer stomach it without revisiting the memories of endless mornings spent hugging the toilet bowl of your dorm floor after drinking with your girls and relishing in the alcohol that tastes identical to Minute Maid once you grew drunk enough.

The drive to the club was about fifteen minutes from your apartment, each of you taking a couple of photos together and dissecting Lena’s texts with her ex from the night before.Sydney was bantering with the driver once you finally pulled up beside the curb out front of the club, a considerably long queue already forming at the front door. 

“You look so hot,” Lena told you, practically skipping to join the line and get inside. “So do you, Syd.”

The bouncer worked quickly, only sending a few people away as he looked over IDs and gestured clusters inside of the club. Thankfully, your fake ID days had passed and you were finally able to toss it. Most of the drinking you had done over the course of your time at school was with small groups of girlfriends and occasionally nights spent at sleazy bars that weren’t strict about obviously fake IDs. Frats had never been your scene, although you managed to go a few times during your freshman year for the experience.

Once the three of you made it inside, Sydney immediately went to the bar after claiming the first round of drinks were on her. There were colorful lights illuminating the crowded atmosphere of those dancing and drinking with friends. The club mix that was playing boomed, your ears adjusting to the insanely loud music as Sydney approached with drinks and held up her phone to snap a photo of you and Lena.

“Drink up!” Sydney called out to both of you, taking a long sip and looking around the club in search of tonight’s target. 

It didn’t take long for Lena to pull both of you to dance, integrating yourselves with a group of sweaty, twenty-something girls who were the level of drunk you hoped to be soon enough. The floor vibrated, moisture collecting at your temples and hairline as you rocked against Sydney in a slightly buzzed bliss. One of the girls you had just met had her arms thrown around your neck, all of you singing at different pitches. 

A rotation of going to grab more drinks and then rejoining your group on the floor had begun, both you and Lena alternating who bought the next round of shots after Sydney found a cute guy at the bar to flirt with. The film of sweat clinging to your skin became unnoticeable after you grew drunk enough to stop caring, your face hot from drinking and dancing. 

“Lena!” You called over the music, drink in-hand. “I have to pee, I’ll be right back!”

“What?” She leaned in. “Bathroom? I’ll come with you!”

“No, stay! I’ll be good,” you promised, knowing she had already made two trips with you.

“You sure?”

“Yes!” You shouted over your shoulder, already making your way to the slightly grungy, low-lit bathroom.

There was a singular open stall, stray bits of toilet paper and a fake eyelash adorning the floor as you drunkenly made your way around the girls reapplying makeup in the mirror. Thoughts of the game washed over you, in turn bringing on thoughts of Joe. Something about going to the bathroom and finally having a few moments of peace allowed you to assess how intoxicated you truly were, which was considerable. The thought of talking to him outweighed the small voice of reason in the back of your mind, ultimately deciding that it would be a problem for your sober self.

As you left the bathroom, rather than going back out to dance with Lena, you leaned against the wall of the hallway and braced yourself in order to stay upright. You pulled your phone from your clutch, sighing and opening his contact. It was late, he might be asleep, you thought. Without thinking much, you dazedly pressed the call button and closed your eyes as the phone rang and you awaited his potential answer.

“Y/N,” his voice came through clear, not even taking two rings to pick up your call.

“Hi, Joe,” you concentrated very hard on your tone and slightly slurred speech, doing your best to sound sober.”M’sorry it’s so late, I just–I was thinking about you, which I know that I shouldn’t because we’re broken up but I was. I wanted to talk to you, I know you probably hate me and everything, or I hate you or whatever. I shouldn’t have called you, I’m sorry.”

“Are you drunk?” His voice comes out level, emotionless even.

The silence between the two of you is palpable, “No,” you hiccup.

He says nothing for a few seconds, “Are you at the club?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“I can hear music and people talking, it sounds like you’re in a club.”

This was wrong, you should not be calling Joe. Why couldn’t you shake him? After all of this, you only continued to want more. All you have done is hurt him and yourself through this situation, unable to make up your mind. Everything you have worked so hard for should be worth more than Joe Burrow, so why didn’t it feel like that?

“Yeah,” you replied, the slurring evident in your voice. “You got me.”

“This isn’t fair, YN… You calling me fucked up and out with who the hell knows isn’t right, not after you call me and tell me you would rather, ‘leave things where they are.’ I like you! I feel like I have made that incredibly obvious, and yet here we are once again.” He rattled off, voice slightly raised. “Look, I’m sorry to be an asshole but clearly you either can’t see or don’t care about how this has affected me or my life. And I get it, you’re still in college and we’re just in completely different stages of life as far as your age–”

“My age?” You finally interrupted his rambling, ready to counter him with what you would most likely regret saying tomorrow. “How come you’re suddenly so fucking mature and I’m just a kid?”

“Well for starters, you are the one who blindsided me a few weeks ago over the phone. You are the one who just called me up at one in the morning, for what? To tell me again that you don’t want to be with me? Or is this some sick joke where you apologize and then can’t remember when you wake up?” He snapped at you. “So yeah, Y/N… I would go as far as to say you’re the immature one in this situation.”

It was as if the wind had been knocked out of you, internalizing Joe’s words as you shifted weight from one foot to the other. Everything was fuzzy, your thoughts askew and irrational as you tried to compile the right words to respond with. He had never taken that tone with you before, nor had he ever sounded so hurt. Maybe he was right.

“I’m sorry, Joe,” was all you could muster without giving away how inebriated you truly are, figuring that would only make things worse. “I regret everything, all of it. We shouldn’t have started anything in the first place, but everytime you come near me it’s just so hard not to want you–” You trailed off, regret was most definitely not the right word, you mean to say that you regret how things have played out.

“Y/N, stop. You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re saying,” he sighed. “Are you safe? Should I get you an Uber or do you have a way home?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” you say quietly.

“Then I’m gonna get off of here, call me once you’ve sobered up.”

His words stung, your heart cracking at the justifiable dismissal. He was most definitely not in the wrong here, but it didn’t make it any less hard. His usual flirtation and humor was long gone, replaced by obvious disdain due to the way you had ended things. 

“Bye, Joe.”

“Get home safe, Y/N.”

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#joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow angst #joe burrow fic #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow x yn #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you

[tommykinardfan]

The Sandwich Tax

Dedicated to my new friend @yoong-tae, thought I would write a little meet-the-work-wife ficlet with one of my OCs inspired by our discussion.

Evan visits Harbor Station during Tommy's shift for the first time since they started dating and meets Olivia Chambers, Tommy's work wife.

This was Evan's second time visiting Harbor Station and the first time doing so during Tommy's shift. He wasn't sure what to expect, walking into the 217. All he knew was that it wasn't like the 118, it wasn't like a family. Stepping into the station, he could feel how disjointed the squad was, they all seemed to have scattered to different parts of the building. Taking in his surroundings, his eyes landed on a statuesque blonde in the kitchen, preparing a sandwich.

"Excuse me, I'm Evan Buckley, I'm here to see Tommy." He introduced himself to the woman, unsure of just how much Tommy talked about him.

The woman's honey brown eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement. "We know all about you, Buckley," her teasing tone was apparent as she spoke, "Tommy's taking a nap right now, but I could go wake him up if you want."

"I was just going to drop off some lunch," Evan explained, "I wanted to surprise him but if he's asleep, don't wake him up."

Evan immediately clocked the way she was observing him, studying him, and he knew in that moment he was being scrutinized by someone important. But he didn't have time to ask any questions when she spoke up again.

"Olivia Chambers, but you can call me Liv," the woman introduced herself, mirroring Evan's introduction, "Ground Support Firefighter with the 217."

"Pleasure to meet you, Firefighter Chambers," Evan offered as a sign of deference and respect, "Liv. You can call me Evan."

It was his turn to have an amused look on his face when Liv immediately pulled out the contents of the bag he brought. There was something distinctly playful about her that made him feel like she was the one Tommy was the closest to at work.

"You know you're going to have to pay the sandwich tax, Evan."

"The sandwich tax?"

"Well, normally Tommy pays the sandwich tax. And since this sandwich is for Tommy, I'm taking 50%." And immediately, Liv grabbed half the sandwich from its container to give it a taste.

Evan raised an eyebrow. "Do you approve?" he asked playfully.

"Not bad." There was a delighted giggle in between bites. "Solid Monte Cristo."

Putting the half of the sandwich she'd claimed on her plate on top of the sandwich she had made, Olivia put the rest of the lunch from Evan into the fridge for Tommy to find later.

"Are you guys always this...sparse?" Evan mused out loud.

"Yeah, 24 hours is a long time to spend in the same building so we go off and do our own thing so we don't get on each other's nerves." Olivia shrugged. "I go through phases of wanting to spend hours with the Groundies, or hang out with Tommy and the twins. It balances out."

It made sense to Evan why Tommy would be jealous of the 118 and the sense of family Captain Nash had built. His squad seemed much more disjointed.

"Listen, Evan, I'm glad you and Tommy found each other," Olivia commented, her casual tone slipping into a more sincere, earnest one, "Tommy wasn't always the confident guy you know and love. And in a lot of ways, he's still the guy who left the 118 looking to belong. But I've never seen him happier. So thank you for that."

Evan nodded in response, eyes lit up from the insight Olivia provided. "We're both lucky to have each other," he commented, not knowing what else to say.

Olivia chuckled. "Maybe one day, if you stick around long enough, I'll tell you the story of the first day I met Tommy. But for now, I'm running away with this delicious half of a sandwich before Tommy finds out I took it."

Evan chuckled at Olivia's antics, watching the blonde walk away with her lunch. "Nice to meet you, Liv. I'll see you around, hopefully."

"Don't worry, you will!" she called out over her shoulder, her tone somewhere between a promise and a threat.

Evan decided not to stick around to wait, leaving Tommy a text message about the lunch he left behind and the sandwich tax he paid. He'd get it when he woke up.

#tommykinardfan #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tevan #tommyevan #out of my 217 ocs liv's my favourite #olivia is tommy's eddie #liv's face claim is emily vancamp #olivia chambers #217 ocs #anne's 217 #the sandwich tax #evan paid this one #bucktommy #evantommy #kinley #buckard #dailykinley