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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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The Farmer's Daughter 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"It was so nice of Walter to help you with the shopping," your mother sings as she puts away a stack of cans in the pantry.

"Yeah," you agree, "it was. Especially 'cause he can carry more bags than me."

She chuckles, "he is rather strong. And big..." she's quiet as she takes out a few more things from a paper bag, "handsome."

"Ma," you gasp and look at the doorway, your father in the next room, still in the recliner.

"I don't mean... not for me," she cackles again.

"Mmm," you put the sugar in the cabinet and turn back as she stares at you, "wait... you mean for me?"

"Well..." her smile falls, "he is so helpful. And nice. And..." she shrugs and shakes her head, "I shouldn't say. Maybe I'm just being ridiculous."

"You are," you insist, "he's... a lot older. Besides, he wouldn't be interested."

"Hon," she chides, "he looks at you." She tilts her head coyly, "he watches you, you don't notice?"

"Ma," you snort again, "stop. You're going to make it awkward."

"I'm just saying. It wouldn't be entirely crazy, would it?"

"Wouldn't it?" You ask.

She's quiet again. She goes into the pantry again as you try to focus on unpacking. She's just trying to distract herself, you're sure. How can you blame her with all that's going on?

Walter is too old and he's standoffish. He's just doing your dad a favour, nothing more than that. You wouldn't blame him for wiping his hands of it all at Timothy's next catastrophe.

A sudden clatter makes you jump and has your mother scrambling out of the pantry. She grasps her chest as you hear Heather's shrill cry, "Patrick!" You rush out ahead of your mom and watch Heather hold him under his arms, placing him back in his chair.

"What's happened?" Your mom shoulders past you.

"He's alright, we were just working on our exercises," the nurse assures as she pulls back, "isn't that right, Patrick?"

Your father gurgles but doesn't speak clearly. Your mother scrunches up her fingers anxiously and hovers behind the recliner, "did he fall?"

"No, no, it was just the table," Heather points to the TV tray overturned on the other side of the chair. "He's doing very good."

"Oh, oh," your mother touches her forehead and heaves, "I was just... scared."

"Ma, why don't you lay down?" You suggest.

"I can't, I got the groceries--"

"I can get the rest," you promise, "please, I know you're not sleeping."

"Hon," she sighs.

"Ma, please, we don't need you getting sick too," you plead.

"Alright, but you come get me in an hour," she demands.

"I will."

Reluctantly she backs away, finally turning at the door. You listen to her creaky ascension and leave Heather with your father. You tremble as you set away the last of the groceries and fold up the paper bags. You tuck them beneath the sink and try to shake off your nerves.

You need a breath of fresh air. Your heady is fuzzy and your eyes glossy. You go out the back door and sit on the back steps. You shudder out a breath and hold your head. The tears trickle out before you can stop them.

The last week you've outpaced the emotions. Keeping busy with your chores, watching after your mom as she does the same for your father. It's like a snake with its own tail. You can't run anymore. Your shoulders rack as you let yourself cry, heaving into your hand as you hiccup loudly.

You just want your dad back. You want the man who used to tell you cheesy jokes about his tractor and pretend to get his finger caught in the machinery. You want everything to be like it used to be. You want to wake up from this nightmare.

You still as you run out of tears. You stay as you are, hunched over and quivering. The buzzing of insects and gentle sway of the grass hums in the air.

A sudden pounding in the grass brings your head up. Walter jogs towards you, wiping away sweat from his brow as he slows. He wears only a ribbed white take, dampened around his chest and sides. Concern ripples in his forehead as he approaches.

"Everything alright?" He puffs as he kneels before you.

"I... yeah, I'm sorry," you mop your face with your knuckles, "I was just... it's nothing."

You try to smile and your cheeks pinch and your mouth downturns. The strain in your lips tugs at your heart again and you sniff back another wave of tears, another droplet slipping free.

"Sweetheart," he rasps and surprises you as he moves to sit beside you on the step, crowding you against the short railing.

He drapes his arm around you and pulls you to him, pushing your head on his shoulder. He rocks you and hushes you. Even trapped in grief, you can't help but be stunned by his gentleness.

"I'm okay," you insist and try to draw back.

"You shouldn't hold it in," he says as he brings his hand up to pet your head, "your father's a good man--"

Before he can finish, you sob again. You shake your head and bury your face against him. You can't stop. You throw your arm around his neck and pull yourself close. He welcomes you in as his arm snakes snugger around you.

"I'm sorry," you babble, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." you chant the apology over and over as he hushes you. You can't stop. It's all spilling out and there's no way to stem the deluge.

#series #au #drabble #the farmer's daughter #night hunter #walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #backwoods au

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broadwaybaby123 · 8 months

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Sickness - Kit Connor x gn!reader

Sickness

Kit Connor x gnreader

Warnings: Vomiting, use of F word, pet names, mention of having long hair

Other: Gender Neutral

I don’t own these photos!

A/n: Hi! So uh, this is my first imagine so if it’s terrible please tell me. If Kit Connor ever expresses that he isn’t comfortable with fanfictions then I will take this down immediately. Feedback is always appreciated, and requests are open. Thanks guys! Love you all xx ❤️ Also, credits to Bellamysdadhumor on Wattpad for writing an imagine called ‘Sick’ in her ‘Kit Connor Imagines’ book. I kind of based this off that.

My eyes jolt open. I look over at my clock and see that it’s 1:17am. My stomach hurts. I feel terrible. I roll over to try calm the feeling but nothing happens. The feeling rises to my throat. Fuck it, I’m going to the bathroom. I rush to the bathroom and open the door, turning the light on. I lift up the seat to the toilet and start to gag. I hate the feeling of vomiting it’s gross and painful. Tears roll down my cheeks as I start to throw up in the toilet.

‘Darling?’ I groan to myself, remembering I didn’t lock the door and my boyfriend, Kit, is going to see me like this. I gag and throw up. Again. I hear the door open ‘Oh baby-’ Kit rushes of to me, carefully lifting my hair back, out of my face. I start to cry more, I feel so guilty for waking him up this early and making him see me like this.

‘Sweetheart, it’s ok. I’m here, it’s ok. You’re just a bit sick. The feeling will pass.’ He starts to rub circles into my back with his hand. The sensation makes me feel better immediately. After a while of not throwing up, Kit stands and puts toothpaste on my electric toothbrush for me, helping me up and giving it to me. I brush and brush, then when the timer goes of, I spit into the sink.

‘Are you feeling better?’ Kit asks me. ‘I’m so, so, sorry’ I say looking down and fiddling with my hands. ‘Baby, why? You did nothing wrong!’ ‘I woke you up thou-’ ‘No. It’s not your fault. Everyone get’s sick sometimes and I would be devastated if I couldn’t help!’ I look down and whisper ‘Sorry’

Kit chuckles and picks me up bridal style, walking me into the bedroom and setting me down on the bed ‘Don’t say that love.’ he says and kisses me on the forehead frowning at how hot it is. ‘Now, I’ll be back in a minute’ ‘Kit!’ I say dragging out the i. ‘You don’t need to baby me! And anyway I’m not sick!’ I try to argue ‘Love you are! Your forehead is burning! Now like I said, I’ll be back in a minute.’ He says putting the fan on before leaving the room.

I lean my head back on the pillows and sigh. How am I sick? I was fine 4 hours ago! And anyway, if I’m sick, then how is Kit not sick. We’ve been hanging out and chilling all day! Suddenly I hear the door open and see some strawberry blonde hair peeking up behind a stack of food and books and dvd’s in his arms. ‘Oh my god Kit! I don’t need all of this!’ ‘You deserve the world.’ he replies and sits everything on the bedside table. I giggle and say ‘Thank you.’ quietly.

He slips into the bed next to me and says, ‘Now, I don’t think you will be able to sleep for a while so we are gonna watch a movie and eat a bunch of snacks’ I roll my eyes and say, ‘Ok your majesty’ he opens is mouth and dramatically gasps. I brush that off and pick up the remote to the tv, passing it to Kit. ‘I don’t really care what we watch. You can pick.’ he just looks at me and says ‘You sure?’ ‘Yeh.’ I reply. ‘Ok then’

He ends up putting on ‘Mean Girls’ because he knows I love it. I look at him and smile. He says, ‘You still love this movie don’t you?’ My mouth opens wide and I say ‘Duh! It’s my favourite! Apart from Heartstopper because your in it but that doesn’t really count as a movie does it?’ He chuckles and goes a little red.

We start watching and I end up falling asleep with my arms wrapped around him and my head on his shoulder. He notices and shuffles so I am laying on top of him with my head on his chest and my arms still around his torso. He wraps his arms around my waist and whispers, ‘Goodnight y/n, I love you.’

#kit connor x reader #heartstopper #nick nelson x reader #kit connor #nick nelson #heartstopper imagines #kit connor imagines #nick nelson imagines

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ourflagmeansheartbreak · 8 months

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You’re losing me || wwdits Nandermo fluff

After killing Derek, needless to say Nandor could no longer think straight. He refused to talk to cameras and for two days hasn’t slumbered or feasted. He knew he had to do something. But wasn’t it too late? Nandor knew for over a decade to not get close, to not…

“Nandor” Nadja interrupted his thoughts and for that Nandor was more than grateful, “are you okay? You’ve been acting like a big American hamburger” it was making her sick being this nice, as she is used to screaming her way out of situations.

“I am okay, thank you Nadja” he muttered not looking away from the painting of him and his horse John, slightly dragging his finger through the hole Guillermo left with a dagger long time ago.

“Malakas” she yelled out, and rushing to him and forcefully turning him to face her, “you’re just like Laszlo, something’s wrong and then all of the sudden ‘yes, yes, very good, thank you’ “ she said mockingly out of anger. It’s not that she didn’t want to help, quite the opposite, she hated seeing her friends in pain. Especially Nandor. But the dummies never learned how to communicate, “now speak”

“I appreciate your help, Nadja” he smiled, “but I’m just alright” he let go of her and turned back to the painting.

“Fine, you don’t wanna talk, don’t. We are leaving now, but if you don’t think that when I come back I won’t sit down on your coffin until you speak, think again” Nadja stormed out, yet Nandor seemed unbothered.

Sometimes he’d look at the painting, dragging his finger around where the dagger used to be. Nandor felt like it was a big warning: a giant wall standing between him and… Guillermo.

It was difficult when he was just a familiar, then it was even more complicated when they found out he’s a vampire killer, and even more terrifying when he disobeyed and turned himself into a vampire.

‘Treat them mean, keep them keen’ is what he was taught. With his soldiers, with his wives and husbands, with his familiars. But Guillermo has never been keen. And that both intrigued and terrified him.

And it has never been in Nandor’s nature to be warm and cuddly. After all he was a slaughtering machine from his birth till now, and when he thinks about him, he wouldn’t love him either, a pathological people killer.

But he’ll do it. Everyone’s out of the house, except for him and Guillermo. And he’ll do it.

He launched himself down the stairs, nervously waiting to “accidentally” bump into Guillermo. And after standing there for solid 15 minutes, it seemed much easier in movies, he thought. He was just happy the cameras were out of the house with Laszlo and Nadja.

“Guillermo” he yelled out not being able to wait there any longer, “I need to speak to you”

“Yes, master?” He appeared as it seemed out of thin air right behind him, scaring him.

“How are you feeling, Guillermo?” He couldn’t think how to open, and ‘I would like to marry you’ seemed a little too forward. It was dangerous territory, if he rejects Nandor, he’ll most likely have to leave. And Nandor won’t be able to stop him as hypnosis no longer work on Guillermo.

“I have a headache” he nodded.

“I used to have those in Al Quolanudar whenever one of our wives would hit me at the back of my head with a rock” he laughed trying to release the tension.

“What?” Guillermo looked confused.

“My wives” he corrected himself, suddenly missing the camera to which he could uncomfortably turn to.

Guillermo looked at him with the look that could only translate into “you’re losing me”. “I’m losing you” Nandor thought back.

“I think I’ll go to sleep, master, I’m very cold” Guillermo muttered as he tried to walk past him but Nandor stopped him.

He slowly walked closer to the short man, with his right hand wrapping Guillermo with his cape. That’s better, he thought.

“Perhaps it is time you call me Nandor” yes, that’s great start, he thought.

“Okay” Guillermo blushed a little, although through that thick beard it was difficult to see. But Nandor could. He always did, “Nandor”

Nandor stood there, smiling warmly at the man, and Guillermo smiled back. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was smiling because he enjoyed his company, or because he was… feeling like he had to. There’s no going back now, he thought.

Nandor gently put his free left hand on Guillermo’s cheek and without waiting leaned in to kiss him. He almost forgot what it feels like to kiss a human, so gentle, so warm. And for a second there Nandor thought that his heart might start again for him. But that was over. He pulled away as he felt Guillermo not returning the kiss. And with that he might have just stab him with the wooden stake because Nandor didn’t want to exist.

“I am sorry, Guillermo” he muttered lowly, “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I never kissed anyone with glasses before” he smiled uncomfortably, retracting the cape from the man.

“Shut up” to his surprise Guillermo pulled the taller man in again. He must have just been taken by surprise the first time around, he thought. Although Nandor no longer wanted to think. He was watching his fangs carefully as to not bite Guillermo accidentally, slowly pushing the shorter man to the wall.

It was fascinating. The lips so soft and gentle and warm, Nandor could lose himself in the insanity that is this kiss.

“I don’t want to lose you, Guillermo” he pulled away to gather his breath, but the man pulled him back in.

“You won’t” he muttered back.

So unbelievably beautiful that kiss was. Nandor has never felt such… what’s the word? Love? Before. Most his suitors were non human, vampires, werewolves, lovers brought from the dead, and none of them had the heart like Guillermo. So kind, so warm, so…

“Nandor!” Nadja yelled out standing across the hallway, making them both pull away, “is that your idea of ‘im okay’?”

Guillermo was smiling uncontrollably as Nandor turned around, and if he could blush, he would be painted red by now.

“I told you I’m fine, Nadja. Now more so” he smiled back at Guillermo, making Nadja curse in Greek as she ran to her room.

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I was bored. Wrote some fluff based on this fanart and ‘you’re losing me’ song by Taylor Swift. ITS NOT MINE! Found it on Pinterest. Their vk k_e_r_e_r_e_k, if you know the artists please comment their @, I really want to give proper credits to them. This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

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durgesupremacy · 5 months

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[fic update] they Rest

Enver Gortash x Durge (Solace), part 5.

Solace wanted to tell him everythng then and there, all their favorite kills, their best work, their bloodiest deeds. The bright-eyed detective who delved too deep into the sewers. The captain all those years ago who they hung from the mast of his ship, face twisted and frozen into a perfect scream. The tiefling child.

They didn’t. They felt the rushed intensity of the feeling and though they weren’t quite sure what it was or how it worked, they recognized it as impulse, and Solace knew to be wary of their impulses. Still, they felt the want. The only ones who’d known about Solace’s deeds outside of the temple had been at the other end of their blades. Even the assassins regarded what little they heard of Solace’s kills with fearful respect. Nothing like admiration. The butler admired them, sure, but Sceleritas was a sick and twisted thing who shared Solace’s gruesome disposition. Gortash had no reason to appreciate the murder and yet he did. If Solace wasn’t so disciplined, they could’ve drowned themselves in the feeling.

Instead they ate, content to rest in Gortash’s office, or perhaps to wander back to the temple at daybreak. Their elven body needed little rest. But the night carried on and they watched Gortash continue to pour through his work, eyes bleary, head heavy.

“You need to sleep.” Solace broke the silence.

“I told you not to interrupt me.”

“You’re falling over in your seat. You’ve been muttering the same few phrases for the past ten minutes.”

“Leave, then, if it bothers you.” Gortash spared a moment to glare at them, but his annoyance was weak through his fatigue.

Something occurred to Solace. “This is why you get stuck during the day. You’re not rested enough to focus. Are you always pushing yourself like this?”

“This is nothing.” Gortash stood then, annoyance giving way to anger. “I am perfectly well and I will sleep when I am tired. Leave me in peace.”

Solace bristled. Stubborn, arrogant man. He was tired already. “Fine.” They stood and looked towards the door, considering their options. They’d thought their partner reliable, and he had been. But now they knew. He could be better, if he only looked after his stupid mortal needs.

Instead of walking out, Solace walked over to Gortash and drove their boot into his chest. He crashed to the floor along with his chair.

Gortash pushed himself up, fuming. “What”—

“If you’ll sleep when you’re tired, then you’ll spar until you’re tired.” Solace went in with their elbow and Gortash deflected them, but it was sloppy. “Assuming you’re doing as well as you say, you’ll put up a good fight.”

“How dare”—

Solace drove the heel of their palm into his throat and Gortash choked mid-sentence. “If you can hold me off for seven minutes, I’ll leave you to your neurosis. But if you go on like this, you’re sleeping even if I have to knock you out. I need you at your best. Do we have a deal?”

“Fuck you.”

“That wasn’t a ‘no.’” Solace’s next strike went low into Gortash’s ribs.

Seven minutes. He didn’t make it to five. Gortash was weary hours ago, but Solace was freshly fed and strengthened by the rush of their hunt. They could’ve gone all night. Solace moved fast and pressed their every advantage. Gortash seethed with silent fury but his blows were imprecise. His anger burned through what was left of his energy and he soon hit the ground again, Solace restraining him with ease.

“Sleep. You’ve lost.”

“I haven’t lost yet.”

“Yes, you have.” Solace loosened their hold and let Gortash struggle for a moment before pushing him down again, bracing his chin with their forearm and forcing him to meet their eyes. “Six hours ago, you might’ve won. But you can’t perform in these conditions. Ignore the needs of your body and someday you’ll doom us both.”

Though Gortash’s gaze remained stubborn and firm, he could no longer avoid Solace’s point and he knew it. He slackened under their frame and Solace eased up, pulling him to his unsteady feet.

“I haven’t locked up the room,” he said.

“I’ll take care of it.” Gortash had extra security measures go up when he slept, but Solace remembered. They’d helped him redesign them, after all. “Rest.”

Scowling, Gortash stalked off to his quarters while Solace started attending to the security wards. They half expected him to find some way to busy himself still, but soon enough they heard his breath shift to the steady pace of sleep. Working their way around the room, Solace briefly wondered about Gortash’s paranoid caution. He had the best defenses money could buy. He was strong. He slept alone. But remembering the deep sleep of humans, Solace could appreciate their ally’s fears. Solace had private quarters at the temple, but there was no such thing as security in a hive of assassins; if they slept as humans did, they’d likely have been killed long ago.

Solace’s mind drifted into fantasy. How pleasant it would be, to slaughter would-be assassins of Gortash in his own office.

Once they finished setting up the wards, Solace curled up on the couch. An extra security measure in return for his trouble. They went into their trance.

***

Gortash awoke. He was comfortable, sprawled on the finest sheets, the least-utilized piece of his luxuries. He was better rested than he’d been in months.

Gods, what was the time? Gortash cursed and slowly rose, mustering the will to move with urgency. His office had an alarm clock of sorts, designed to go off when the sun rose. But despite his windowless sleeping quarters, Gortash felt that the sun must have been up for several hours at least. Damned Bhaalspawn. They must’ve switched it off, in their commitment to sabotaging his daily routine.

Gortash threw on his coat and opened the door, only to find Solace at his desk. He wasn’t quite awake enough to be eloquent with his words.

“The hells?”

“Ah, you’re awake.” Solace put down some papers and looked up at him. “Good. I’m running out of the business of yours that I know how to do.”

“What in Bane’s name”— Gortash snatched up the papers on top of the desk, only to find evidence of his morning duties almost fully complete. Finalizing of supply orders and inventory, condensing of intelligence reports for future appointments, identifying the day’s most urgent tasks, suggesting amendments to his schedule—all in Solace’s handwriting, but it could’ve been Gortash’s mind. He started at them, dumbfounded.

“Why are you so surprised? I’ve seen you do this time and time again. You talked it through with me at least once.” Solace took the papers back and stacked them neatly. “Though now I know you only needed my help because you were mad from lack of sleep. Don’t waste energy torturing yourself. You have more important things to do.”

Gortash ought to end the alliance then and there. Or punish them, at the very least. They had no right to challenge him as they did, much less to take on his work themselves. But his heart wasn’t in it. Though Gortash had lost hours of his day, his mind was clear, his thoughts calm.

Solace crossed a line. But they’d helped him. And seeing Solace’s disheveled hair and the dried blood on their hands, Gortash knew they’d taken their trance here. They’d armed and disarmed the security and done work that wasn’t theirs to do, at the cost of spending the night on his couch. He swallowed his pride and allowed it to be eclipsed by appreciation. They could’ve left him exposed. If they really wanted, they could’ve killed him in his sleep. Instead they took up his duties.

“You did well,” he said. Solace gave a slight smile and shook their head, standing up.

“I should go back to the temple. I have work of my own.” They went for the door. “I expect you to try and get better sleep, going forward. Just don’t get soft.”

Despite himself, Gortash chuckled. “Don’t get lost.” He found himself wanting to say something else, to keep them there. But he couldn’t think of the words.

Solace left. The severed arm was still on the table, vile and elegant in the light of the late morning sun.

Guess I should start linking to the rest: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #durgetash #enver gortash #gn!durge #the dark urge #they/them durge #durge #slow burn #this is my break from my grad thesis #and it's big fun creative writing practice #I'm learning a lot

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hinatastinygiant · 2 years

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Chapter Twenty

Don't Be Reckless

Pairing: Osamu x Fem!Reader

previous | next | missing heiress

OSAMU'S P.O.V.

I walk up to Kita, Momoiro, and Aoi in the middle of their conversation and smile awkwardly. "Uh, excuse me girls but do you think I could borrow Kita for a sec?"

Momoiro glares at me but Aoi helps me out. "Come on, let's go," she whispers to her friend and the two of them walk off.

"Kita, Atsumu said there was some news about Y/N. What's going on?" I ask, getting straight to the point.

"Yeah," he nods calmly as though I'm not standing on the tips of my toes waiting for him to spill already! "I heard from Motoya earlier today. We talked over the phone. Apparently, Y/N and Sakusa have asked for you to pay them a visit."

"That's impossible," I shake my head, "and totally stupid. It would put her in danger."

"It would put Sakusa in danger, too," he adds, "but the strangest part is that he was the one who sent the request to Motoya, seemed adamant about getting the two of you to meet. I guess the two of them have been getting along better than we predicted."

"So what are we going to do then?" I ask him.

"Perhaps it would be best to go somewhere to meet with Y/N. That way Sakusa's location won't be in jeopardy and we'll only have to worry about watching one of them. He does want them both at the same time, after all. Daisho, that is," he explains to me.

"What about the pier? That place is practically abandoned and nobody will be around. It would be the last place Daisho would think to look," I suggest.

"Hm, that's not a bad idea," he nods. "Get yourself ready, we'll plan to meet Y/N and Motoya tomorrow at sunset. I'll confirm the location with you in the morning."

I nod as I reach my hand to shake his. "Thank you, I really appreciate you going out of your way for this."

"Just don't get too carried away. Enjoy your time with her but I don't know how many times we can arrange something like this. I'm sure it's already too late to tell you this but don't get too attached to her."

"Of course, thank you," I nod my head once more. Kita then hums and walks off. I head in the opposite direction from him, back to my drink and where I left my idiot brother. I grab my drink from his hand and take a sip.

"See ya, I'm getting an early night," I vaguely explain to him.

"Woah, what happened?" he then asks nosily.

"You were wrong, like always. I am going to see Y/N again. Tomorrow actually," I smile from ear to ear as I brag to him.

"What?!" he gasps as he stands up. "Did Kita tell you where she is?"

"No," I shake my head, "but she's gonna meet me somewhere tomorrow."

"Where?!" he continues to ask as he gets all up in my face.

"The pier, alright? Now will you stop asking so many questions, I don't want to talk about it just in case we're being watched."

Atsumu looks absolutely stunned. I didn't know this mattered to him so much. "No way," he whispers. "Be careful, 'Samu, 'cause-"

"I know, I know, spare me another lecture, 'Tsumu," I roll my eyes.

"That's not what I was gonna say," he grumbles, but I ignore his idiocy. I don't need to hear it from him for the umpteenth time. He doesn't need to always tell me how he hates the idea of me and Y/N being happy. I hand him back my empty drink and walk outside of the bar. I can't help the somewhat drunk smile on my lips as I stand outside. Finally, I'm going to see her again.

The next morning I wake up early- right at five o'clock. I eat rather quickly in anticipation of hearing news from Kita, staring down at my phone the entire morning. At around seven, Kita messages me. I input my password wrong three times from rushing like crazy to open the following text:

She's agreed to meet us at the pier tonight. Sunset.

Ever since then the day just dragged on slowly. I try to nap to make it go by faster but being unable to sleep doesn't help. I finally eat again around four but after that, I can't stomach food. My chest feels tight with nerves over seeing her again, as dumb as that sounds. But it makes me sick thinking she may not be the same from those several weeks ago. Who knows what isolation with Sakusa and Motoya does to your brain? Hopefully, she's found something to keep her occupied and busy while she's there.

In the middle of the day, I had gone out to a few jewelry stores looking for something special for Y/N since I don't know when I'll be able to see her again. After a lot of searching, I find a thin bracelet with a letter and a cherry blossom. I had asked to get her initial replaced for the one already on there. Now it stands before me all wrapped up in gold wrapping paper I found.

I let out a deep breath as I look at it. I've got no idea if she'd like something like this but I guess it's worth a try. I then grab my keys and put on my shoes to leave. However, when I open the door, I see Atsumu standing on the other side. He's got a serious expression on his face. I didn't know he got permission from Kita to come too.

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dasha-aibo · 2 months

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if you dont enjoy living and have nothing to look forward to then what are you even doing with your life? you have some plans even if theyre stupid. everyone does. maybe youre worried youre overly ambitious but you cant do anything about that. i get feeling like its pointless to be open to other people when its guaranteed most people would find you being open to them irritating or upsetting. whats the point of being open though? most relationships have nothing to do with openess

even joy can be a false idol; the unhappiest people pursue joy and live the most unsatisfying lives. the happiest people are those who are contented by simple, shallow things such as extreme caffeine abuse, coworkers being willing to spend time around you at work, fantasizing about crushes, feeling proud of more successful family members. enjoying the warmth of the sun on your skin and scenic vistas. these become less satisfying as you age because stagnation is tiring

keep or start taking hrt and you will feel more comfortable as a person at least. know that while some people might not accept you because of your identity other people are rejected because they have sickness in their souls; because they are petty, depraved, hollow, joyless people. people see that their lives are pointless and understand that truth. yet even people who defy purpose can feel satisfied with their lives. you have a cute boyfriend. even if its tough to meet people, enjoy life.

i used to enjoy early morning walks as a child because i was a little hopeful, even though i knew i would probably ruin my life and other peoples lives. after wasting 5 years unemployed i ruined my life and other peoples lives and while i no longer appreciate beauty as deeply as i did when i was young i at least know that if i can provide for myself i wont have to care about my mistakes. but i am lucky to be unempathetic i guess

i feel like i have the potential to enjoy more things more deeply than i did when i was a child i just havent yet because i spend a lot of time being paranoid and dont see the value in most things. life is fairly meaningless and it can be difficult to enjoy meaningless things. drive down a scenic highway and you think how easily you can ruin your life by not sleeping enough and wrapping yourself around a lightpost.

alcohol similarly is enjoyable. gin isnt exactly sweet but it doesnt need to sweetened to be enjoyed. its just vodka distilled with spices but its aromatic or herbal or whatever. you can appreciate beauty in as many subtle or less subtle things that you enjoy and still never feel joy beyond simple contentedness. joy is an emotion that not everyone gets to experience as often as other people, but how important are our emotions truly?

if you were to die today then you would be dead today, what difference does it make compared to dying tomorrow or in 10 or in 50 years, really? so why rush to die? life is full of destinations we cant avoid, so why worry about dying or why worry about not being able to feel joy or why worry about struggling to connect with other people? whats important is whatever you decide is important and what isnt important is whatever you decide isnt.

more personal advice from me to you would be for you to try taking lithium or something. go to a psychiatrist and tell them you have anhedonia and you want to enjoy things slightly more or feel slightly more motivated and the antipsychotics or antidepressents they have might help.

even more personal advice; you are disappointed you cant connect with people as deeply irl as you can online. this is because people make fewer connections irl therefore they seem more valuable to us. so my advice would be to pursue both open online friendships and less open ones in real life unless the other person is being similarly open about themselves with you. real recognises real. or seek out people irl who are real ones.

like think about why people join cults. its because theyre deeply alone and are desperate not only for a sense of community but also for openness and connections with other people. this shit is extremely common and extremely normal. you are extremely normal for feeling the way that you do. very many people feel isolated, valueless and struggle to find beauty or enjoyment or satisfaction in their own lives. its common its like a part of life or societies or whatever its like natual

take a deep look at what you want out of living every day. if you can think of some things, pursue them. if you cant, ask why you keep going every day. even though you dont feel enjoyment and even though you feel deeply alone you still feel somewhat content about where you are or what you are doing with your life. your work isnt too hard on your body or your mind. your mental breaks are minor; a week without cleaning cleaned in an hour. frustration bleeding until only mild numbness remains

joy and love and passion arent necessary to have a bare minimum contentedness with being alive and living even if they can make it easier. they are also meaningless things themselves; their only value is what you ascribe to them. to feel joy you need to enjoy things, to feel love, love to be passionate, have passion. if you currently dont then you currently cant, simple as. it can be difficult to value things without objective value

imo the body or the mind subjectively values things. i valued the cute guy i worked with yet i didnt matter to him. i dont value certain family members who value or have their life revolve around or obsess over me to an extent due to perceived slights against them that may or may not be true. entirely arbitrary but again i cant bring myself to care; the body or mind values what it will.

people often feel guilt or feel disconnected from their community or family because they dont share values or ideals with them but guilt is also only an emotion. guilt is entirely arbitrary and is best ignored which can be easy when you barely feel other emotions as well. you can spend your entire life having the patience of an oak only to have joy sapped from you do to feelings of dissilusionment or whatever

i think the simplest thing is that if you feel disillusioned you dont have to settle for a negative mindset you can settle for the neutral mindset that has trapped you in a routine of wage slavery in exchange for assuanging guilt over owing society and family and whatever a debt of wasted time with hopes of forgetting guilt one day. guilt you remember yet ignore every day.

maybe im talking complete nonsense i dont know

my dad threatened to report me to missing persons for leaving the house (to go for a 10 km walk) as an adult. my sister defended him saying hes allowed to invade my privacy if hes worried. my sisters friend offhandidly said she feels like her family is invading her privacy in the same way without ever hearing what i said. my sister made the same excuse, being a flying monkey for her friends parents nosiness. i could wonder why my sister values being nosy so much but i dont have to

my sister doesnt value privacy because she is kind of dumb. im kind of dumb too. a lot of people are. i also dont hsve to wonder why peoples families are nosy. some people, even if they dont have negative intentions, dont have better things to do than cause problems for people who are currently dependent of them.

people everywhere are in similar situations and face similar issues caused by malevolent actions from people who arent malevolent and so on. theres a lot of pointless rot and you can either care about it or you can accept the way it is and try to either be more independent or condition yourself to feel more comfortable being deceitful. every difficulty has a solution. life has frustrating things.

whats most frustrating is that everything takes time and yet theres so little time and then you feel guilty for wasting time when you had more time available. yet youre thinking its a waste because you didnt do something you currently think will be meaningful yet in the future might feel is meaningless just like everything else in life. and so people who reach catharsis return to the hamster wheel of guilt until they achieve what never satisfies them truly

that is unless there are things which provide lasting satisfaction, in which case they should be sought out. which is why i think you should take hrt and try antipsychotics or antidepressents and see if they help. if they do they do if they dont they dont. also consider what you want to do and do it. and also accept that a lot of people may hate you, obsessing over other peoples opions is a massive time sink. not worth it at all

i dont have any better advice, so best of luck. ive read your blog for years and i respect you deeply

more specific advice is you can still feel content when experiencing things that used to bring you joy yet no longer do, at least

everyone thinks in retrospect they could have done things better and this is even worse when other people think in retrospect you could have and should have too. the past is firmly in the past and the future is loosely in the present. take guidance from the past, but anyone who says you should obsess over feelings of guilt likely has issues.

Thanks for all of that. It didn't improve my mood, but it did give me something to ponder on.

And also, no offense, but this is the closest approximation of a deep depressed lightly-inebirated conversation with an old friend you can possibly have through tumblr anon asks.

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returntosaturn271995 · 7 months

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Thursday, October 19th: Trivial Pursuits

I redownloaded Door Dash. Don't hate me okay? I wanted sushi. Plus I decided I earned it.

Things I did to be a non-garbage person:

1). I went on a long walk to the beach (would have been a run but I'm not rushing the shin splint)

2). Made coffee at home instead of buying it

3). Did yoga, my body has truly never looked better

4). I am wearing matching cheetah PJs

5). I got a ton of work done

6). Drank a ton of water

7). Did a load of laundry and a load of dishes

8). Read two chapters (one fiction, one non-fiction)

9). Made a gourmet grilled cheese with fig and caramelized onion

10.) Supported Lexi through the Hamas crisis because some people have fucking real problems, ERIN, Jesus.

The book of love is long and boring.

But I regularly find myself happiest when I'm doing something. Even though being "get up and go" was never something I was previously all that great at. It is the only thing to build confidence.

Today in particular the little habits felt like bullshit. Trivial. Real terrorism is happening to real people. And here I am unsuccessfully executing triangle pose on my bright blue yoga mat from Amazon as if that's going to save my shallow soul from going to hell.

But the problem is if I don't stretch, then my shin splint is going to continue to be a thorn in my side. Plus exercise helps me sleep. Plus the daily meditation today was about the importance of routine. Once you have the basic bullshit down and the nitty gritty on autopilot, you can spare some mental energy for the important tasks at hand.

You know, like emailing people about Froot Loops while the world burns.

Hmmm. That seemed funny in my head but it's also grim as fuck seeing it written out like that.

Still, I deserve clean clothes and clean dishes. I want work experience to pay the bills and to travel. I like to cook, read, meditate, stretch, go outside, and write on a daily basis. I like to talk sincerely with my friends about how desensitized and scary the world can be and how important it is to stay human and love others in their own humanity.

All those things are small, and trivial. But together, over time, they sustain a peaceful life filled with growth. Even as my fiction book (Really Good, Actually by Monica Heisey) very accurately pointed out: “everyone involved in adult learning was running from something.”

Yeah, well. (inhales joint) I got sick of staying in the same place and refusing to learn anything. Now I might be a single loser, but my skin is glowing and I know a fuck ton about current events.

If I lose sight of the small things, I forget how many people would kill for ordinary right now.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A conversation with someone I love:

Lexi Goldberg: You’d hope so, but people posting the lies are educated They won’t think or even engage with me It makes no sense One girl told me she wouldn’t debate with me because I “seem emotional” about it. Like lol yes I’m emotional I’ve lost people and my family and country is at risk

Erin Burks: She can go fuck herself

Lexi Goldberg: Right?! I was shooketh lol

Erin Burks: Just because someone is educated in the traditional sense doesn’t mean their not an idiot

Lexi Goldberg: Like I re-read it 3 times and then home girl blocked me

Erin Burks: Like I’m sorry, but who the fuck is Harvard letting in?

Lexi Goldberg: So so true

Erin Burks: Lol as I misspell “they’re”

Lexi Goldberg: Like these students are chanting glory to the murders I do that all the time and then have to quickly edit my messages on work team channels Lolol Comes with texting fast 💁🏻‍♀️ But really Erin, I cannot thank you enough Daniel is also so appreciative for you

Erin Burks: You don’t need to thank me, I’m just more upset that people I love are feeling this Aw tell him I’m sending him love as well Don’t let any armchair intellectuals try and convince you otherwise. They’re idiots who need to get off Tik Tok and read a book.

Lexi Goldberg: We love you and are so appreciative More than we can put into words It means the world to us And truly truly gives us hope And we need hope so bad right now

Erin Burks: I love you and I mean it that other people feel this way Fuck anyone on social media making you feel low Your loss is real, your history is real, you are fucking real.

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daimees · 2 years

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All my post during this semester have been about emotions that I have felt during my lifetime. Even the pieces of art I have spoken about how a deep meaning to them connecting my life with them. My manifesto are emotions, emotions I have shared by posting and submitting assignments. That is my taste picture and music and even stories that we have read, they have to have an emotional connection to me, mean something or something I can sympathize with. I did the assignment about music, putting a music theme. All the songs connected into emotion and love, like I stated before it was deep to me because I am starting a family. I strongly believe for a child to have a good parent system growing up, the parents need to respect each other and remember the love that there was and who they do it for even if they do separate in the future. Some people do better as co-parent than being together and toxic for their kids. I believe if a couple tries to keep the relationship but is failing and they work better apart. It is not a broken family broken is being toxic infant of a kid. Two house holds does not being broken if they get along and their kid benefit it from it which is the most important thing. I spoke about my pregnancy journey, shared ultrasounds pictures. Spoke how spontaneous the whole 33 weeks have been, rollercoaster since day one. A beatiful journey it has been, but once you mix hormones, that no one understand how much it tolls on a women those months. And it cannot be explained the rush of emotions, one day it is like crying a river and the next day is everyone is just annoying. Also the symptoms through the whole pregnancy, because if it is anything like mine. No breaks in between they said 2nd trimester was better, not the case. First trimester was sleeping Beaty, 2nd was morning sickness everyday and 3rd is heartburns all night. But it is beautiful once you feel/ see them move and their ultrasound and hear their heartbeat. All the bad times seem to disappear and everything becomes so positive. Also spoke about the country I was born in Cuba and how much of an emotional attachment it holds one me. Seen it all been crumbled up into nothing without anyone being able to do anything to help. A simple comparison of what Cuba looked like 60 years ago to now, makes you actually see how how it has been downhill for the cuban people not the government. Government keeps prospering, they have no impact on what the people feel. It is said being paid $48 once a month as a doctor, and Cuba has some amazing doctors well taught. But they do not have the essentials to help people, as simple as gauze they do not have. It is sad seen people go to jail for 10 plus years for standing up for their rightist hey were born there. They deserve to enjoy their life in their country as anyone else. Why is it that tourist get the benefits the people should get too. Horrifying and seen where you grew up, played, visited just falling apart in pieces. Children starving, eating bread with sugar because they guardian cannot afford food. They have to choose between paying bills or feeding themself and their kids. That is why all my aissgments have been about emotions, growing seen all that really makes you thankful for the smallest things. Makes your appreciate and have sympathy for others.

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3rensgf · 3 years

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stupid/annoying, but endearing, things they do in a relationship eren, armin, jean, connie, erwin, levi, reiner, bertholdt, porco, zeke, colt, hanji, mikasa, sasha, annie, pieck

word count: 2.3k

warnings: one mention of sex in erens, reader uses makeup in jeans, mentions of injuries and dilf!reiner in reiners

notes: this is a gn!reader. there are mentions of makeup being used, but i feel like any gender can use makeup. it's not even anything serious like a beat face. just some lip gloss n mascara. chapstick too but thats not makeup. it's just one line, so you can skip over it if you would like to!

✩ eren bites you. its not even in a sexual way, he just likes to bite. they’re like a second form of kissing to him. you could be chilling together on the couch watching a movie, and he’ll just chomp on your shoulder. even when you were trying to focus on something, he swings by, bites then leaves. eren has no shame, so he does it in front of your friends too. you could be having a normal conversation with mikasa and he’ll just bite you, then the two of you carry on as if it was normal. it’s not normal. but you love it. sometimes you bite him back too. but only in private.

✩ armin gives you random things he finds. armin likes to go out and explore, with or without you. when he comes back after an adventure you opted out of, he always has something for you he found. a rock, a seashell or a cool flower are just some of the things he gets for you. if he can’t find something, he finds a gift shop to get you something instead, saying, “well, (y/n), i did find it in the gift shop.” he always looks so proud giving it to you, rambling about the story of how he found your gift. you have a small box tucked away with all the treasures he gives you.

✩ jean steals your things. whenever he comes over, he likes to mooch off your possessions. if he’s spending the night at your place and needs a shower, he’s using your shampoo, conditioner and body wash. if his lips are chapped, he swipes your lip balm to use on himself. one time you even walked in on him trying your mascara and lip gloss. another time he had your clothes on his giant frame. but he always replaces whatever he uses, venmoing you within the next few days with some cash and a sorry note. “sorry for using ur lip balm baby, buy some more <3” with $20 attached to it. you tell him that lip balm doesn’t even cost that much, but he tells you to treat yourself to lunch with the extra money.

✩ connie makes plans without letting you know beforehand. at 3am, you are woken up by an influx of messages and calls from your boyfriend. in your sleepy state you go to answer him, only to be told to get dressed and come out. he’s right outside of your house and hungry. you remind him it’s very early in the morning and you both have class. “but i’m hungry and craving burgers,” he repeats. you have no choice to get in the car with him. this can happen throughout the day, not just early in the morning. one time he whisked you away in the middle of your online class because he didn’t tell you he bought tickets to a movie showing in 30 minutes. the memories you share on these spontaneous dates are always your favorite ones with him.

✩ erwin buys you whatever you like in bulk. it’s not even an exaggeration when you say bulk. you mention one thing to him, and the next day there are boxes upon boxes sitting on your kitchen counter. “these oranges taste pretty good,” you mumble to yourself as you peel your 2nd one. erwins sharp ears hear this, and first thing in the morning he’s off to buy multiple bags of your supposed favorite oranges. it takes you days, sometimes weeks, to finish whatever he decided to buy you. you always tell him he doesn’t need to buy so much, but he never listens. though, you always appreciate how attentive he is to your likes and dislikes.

✩ levi cleans up for you and ruins your organization. it’s always a blessing when someone else decides to take on the burden of cleaning for you, and you thought you hit the jackpot with a boyfriend who loved to clean, clean, clean. but it could get annoying when you suddenly couldn’t find anything you placed anywhere. if you’re anything like me, you’re messy but organized. you know where things are. when levi comes to clean, he places things where he thinks they should go. you’re sent on a wild goose chase looking for your pencil case, only for it to be in a completely different drawer than the one you usually kept it in. despite this behavior, it’s always nice to come home from a long day from school to see your desk organized. what was once a mess of papers and other supplies have been filed into their correct places, the table wiped down from any lingering coffee stains and your supplies being organized in a way so you knew where everything was. sometimes there’d be a plate of fruit with the note, “good luck on your exams,” written in your boyfriends neat writing beside it.

✩ reiner coddles you too much. whenever you express any sort of discomfort, reiner is always rushing to your side. “are you hurt? do you need medical attention? how many fingers am i holding up?” he asks, checking you for any cuts or bruises. thank you, honey, but i’m fine. just bumped into the counter. despite that, he’s dragging you over to the bathroom to fix up your imaginary injuries. you always find it a bit much when you’re fine. it’s during the times where you’re actually hurt where you learn to appreciate it. he’s so gentle cleaning your cuts, kissing them softly once they’re dressed. you wonder if he’d be like that with your future children.

✩ bertholdt is too nervous around you. it’s been years since the two of you got together, and he still refuses to make eye contact with you. his hands get sweaty and shake when you attempt to hold his hand. he always stumbles over his words when speaking to you as he tries to find the right words to say. he even blushes when he introduces you to other people as his significant other! you remind bertholdt over and over again that he doesn’t need to be so shy around you. but you cant help but coo over him showing up for your date, flustered mess and thrusting flowers into your hand. “they reminded me of you,” he said quietly, refusing to meet your eyes. you giggle and press a kiss to his hot cheeks.

✩ porco is too cocky for his own good. he’s always parading around the house, boasting about his latest achievements. he beat colt in a video game colt was a supposed god in. he can throw a baseball farther than zeke. he can run faster than pieck. if he’s taller than you, he's always making fun of you for being shorter than him. if you’re taller, you’re not exempt from his wrath either. he’s boasting about how he’s perfect height to not hit his head on doorways. he never goes as far as to hurt your feelings, always knowing when to stop. though he has a big ego, he would let it crash and burn just to see you smile after beating him at smash bros. you laugh and taunt him, happy you beat him in one thing. he doesn’t mind, instead watching you with a soft smile on his lips and love in his eyes.

✩ zeke forces you to work out with him. and it’s not like in the afternoon to help you stretch out. it’s not light yoga or a couple minutes on the treadmill. no, this man wakes you up at ass crack in the morning to take you on a 5 mile hiking trip. you barely have any time to register what is happening around you before you’re already standing at the start of the trail with your gear. “come on! we can’t slack off!” he says, clapping his hands together. the sun is beating down on you and your feet hurt, but this man doesn’t let you stop for a break. “we’re almost there,” he says. your complaining goes out the window when he shows you the view at the top. its one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. hiking up long ass trails to see beautiful views with your boyfriend was so worth it in the end.

✩ colt accidentally turns your dates into babysitting sessions. you show up at his house with the promise of a good time, only to be met with a guilty looking colt and his little brother falco behind him. “sorry,” he says sheepishly, “gabi got sick with the cold, so i couldn’t drop him off there. i hope you don’t mind him staying.” you hide your disappointment behind a wide smile, nodding enthusiastically as to not hurt either of their feelings. you just wanted to spend some alone time with your boyfriend, and it would have to wait. hanging out with falco wasn’t actually that bad. the three of you had an amazing time together, watching tv, playing games and even baking together. if you hate kids, you can’t bring yourself to hate falco; he’s just the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. you and falco are already asking colt when the three of you can hang out again when you have to go back home.

✩ hanji is always talking. you don’t discourage them from talking about their interests. they’re very passionate about the things they love, and can’t help talking about them. its like the scene where hanji kept eren up all night talking about titans. when you’re trying to focus on something or go to sleep, hanji is just yapping away. you’re honestly amazed at their ability to never run out of things to say about the most mundane things. hell, one time they talked for an hour and a half about a building color they saw when they were out one day. but hanji just looked so happy when talking. their face would break out into a huge grin, and their arms would fly around as they told their story. it was too cute for you to tell them to stop.

✩ mikasa hovers too much. every corner you turn, every place you go to, mikasa is following. she claims she’s not clingy, but in reality she is. it’s like a cat who hates affection, but needs to be in the same room as you at all times. you don’t mind her following you into the bedroom or living room or kitchen. you had to draw a line when she tried to follow you into the bathroom. even when you’re out, she’s always following you around. you tell her it’s okay to break off from you and spend some time by herself, but she always shakes her head and follows you to your next destination. you’re always grateful for her hovering when a group of drunk people try hitting on you, whistling and telling you they’ll give you a good time. but one look at your girlfriend who showed up from out of nowhere, and they’re running away with their tails between their legs.

✩ sasha eats your food. she can’t help it. she likes to snack. she’s always hungry. and you get that. to stop things like this from happening, you have separate places to keep your food. just so sasha and you have your favorite snacks and takeout separated. you respect the rule, but your girlfriend seems to lose her reading skills when hungry, one too many times you have walked in on her with her hand deep into a bag of your chips, something you’ve been waiting to eat all week when you were supposed to watch that new horror movie on netflix with her. you huff and puff and retreat to your bedroom. sasha comes back after a few hours, looking upset with tons and tons of snacks in her arms. “i’m sorry i ate your chips,” she frowns. she sets down all the food she got on your bed. “i got all these snacks you liked as an apology. and 3 bags of your favorite chips.” you could never stay mad at her cute face.

✩ annie complains about spending time with you. “i like my alone time,” she says, brushing you off when you asked why she didn’t want to watch a movie with you. some people were introverted, preferring to spend time by themselves rather than with someone else. you were like that too; you had your moments where you didn’t feel like being around your girlfriend. but it became an annoying problem when she constantly shot down your attempts to hang out with you. when she finally agrees, she’s always finding something to complain about. but during important dates or when you’re not in the best mood, she’s always the first to remind you or initiate a hang out/date. she shuts her mouth and enjoys her time with you, not one criticism or groan leaving her lips. she would never admit it, but being around you made her so happy.

✩ pieck is always sleeping. you have to wait a few hours to get a text or call back from pieck because she’s always dozing off somewhere. “sorry sweets,” she yawns into the mic, “was taking a nap. need something?” good luck trying to reach your girlfriend during an emergency. when you come home with takeout for dinner because neither of you wanted to cook, she’s sleeping at the dinner table. when you’re watching a movie she wanted to watch, she’s snoring away, curled up at the end of the couch. during lectures you share together, she has her head in her arms and has the audacity to ask you for your notes in the end. and it’s not like she’s not getting enough sleep, no. she gets her recommended 8 hours of sleep and then some. it’s nice to have a sleepy girlfriend, though, when you’re dead tired from living. you drag your feet into the bedroom to see her about to take her nth nap for the day. she notices your zombie-like state and opens up her arms for you. the two of you cuddle and nap together, sleeping the stress away.

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nightwishesworld · 3 years

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Do u think Alcina would get jealous if there partner had a favourite plushie to the point she considers it competition, the only thing stoping her getting rid of it is her partner being upset

Umm, we are talking about the same vampire, right??? Of course, she would! You guys have the best friggin ideas I swear! This was such a fun write

p/n = plush name

************************

Alcina Dimitrescu is not a jealous woman.

She is the epitome of beauty and elegance, leaving no room for emotions such as jealousy to squander it.

Yeah...right. That’s what she tells herself at least.

To her credit though, Alcina is pretty good at keeping herself in check. Only lashing out, or asserting her dominance, as you call it, when absolutely necessary. The butcher’s son, for instance, got a taste of her rage when she caught him ogling your body like a piece of prime meat. He almost had his tongue cut out right then and there.

Alcina doesn’t do well with competition, and even though you’ve told her several times that there is no competition, she decides to weed them out herself. Can’t get jealous if there are no competitors, right?

Her jealousy doesn’t last long, she claims her spotlight one way or another. There is, however, one creature Alcina is unable to rid herself of. One that resides in her very castle. The closest any little rat has ever come to stealing her beloved y/n.

Even after long grueling days of wasting her time cleaning up Heisenberg’s messes and getting an ear full from Mother Miranda, all Alcina longs for is to crawl into bed and wrap herself in your arms. Tonight it seems the gods are frowning upon her because they have already stolen her place. She rolls her eyes at what should have been a cute display, had it been her, and instead moves to the vanity to start taking her makeup off.

Wiping away the stresses of the day helped lighten Alcina’s mood a bit. It was always such a relief to take her makeup off, knowing the day has finally ended and she can relax.

Making her way to the bed Alcina trips over the small wastebasket and curses herself for making you stir from your sleep.

“Alci, you ok?”

You sit up in bed, grabbing the sheets to cover yourself, but still keep an arm wrapped around your smaller companion.

“Yes, I’m fine darling I-” Alcina stopped. “You know what? No. I am the Lady of this castle and I say p/n needs to leave our bed.”

“P/n is always allowed in bed!”

Alcina was too tired to start a proper argument and decides to simply give in. She refuses to hold you while that stupid plushy is sandwiched between you, effectively cock-blocking her. Its eyes mock her as it watches her toss and turn tirelessly. Alcina was not accustomed to sleeping “by herself.” The vampire felt uncomfortably bare without your body directly in contact with hers, but not bare enough to reconsider cuddling you and the plushy. Alcina is far too stubborn for that and simply chucking it to its rightful place on the floor would only upset y/n. No matter how much she loathes that plushy, she still does not want to upset you.

A smugness flashed across its cold dead eyes as it stared at her, clearly proud of its victory. Alcina only growled in response, baring her teeth like a territorial animal.

“You win this round, fucker.”

The next day was no different from any other. Alcina was kept busy with her daughters causing mayhem around the castle and paperwork needing to be done for some sort of ceremony. Naturally, when she does give herself a break, she chooses to spend it with you. This is how you ended up sitting here next to the fire, plushy at your side and Alcina by her lonesome across from you.

“Ooh, do we still have those shortbread cookies from the other day? Or did Cassandra eat them all?”

“I hid some for you above the stove- top shelf inside the teapot.”

Your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Be right back.”

Alcina nodded and turned her attention back to her book. She felt a pair of eyes on her, but she tried her damnedest to ignore it. A few intense minutes passed before she slammed her book shut. “You think you’re so special, don’t you? Just because you had them first doesn’t mean you’re their favorite.”

The plush stared blankly at her. Its silence only egged her on.

“You better watch yourself, plushy. You just landed yourself a spot on Alcina Dimitrescu’s blacklist, and no one gets off of it alive. You might have them fooled with your dapper little suit and hat but I know who you really are under all that fluff. Punk ass plushy bitch. Y/n is mine, and I do not share.”

More intense silence filled the room as Alcina was about to strike down on the innocent creature until-

“Hey Al, can you come help me? I can’t reach the top shelf.”

She gave the plush a smug grin before taking her leave. “I know someone else who can’t reach either. Coming, my love!”

Alcina sauntered out of the room only to step right back through the doorway to extend the claw on her middle finger at the plushy. Giving it the most dramatic middle finger in all of Romania.

Sometime later

The cookies were gone within minutes of settling back down on the couch. Now you were lounging across the cushions, with p/n pressed tightly against your chest, finishing the final chapter of your book. You moved to get off the couch to return your book to its shelf and pick out another classic. Before setting p/n on the cushions you place a kiss on the top of their head. Alcina pretends not to notice this out of the corner of her eye and continues to glaze over the pages of her own book, waiting for her kiss.

It never came.

You walk past her without offering so much as a smile and Alcina is sent over the edge.

“That’s it, I can’t take it anymore! Y/n it’s me or the plush.”

You look back at her, rather taken back by her sudden outburst. “Um, excuse me?”

“You heard me. It’s either me or the plush. Take your pick.”

You arch a brow and put your hands on your hips. “Well, p/n and I don’t appreciate that tone.”

Alcina rolls her eyes. “P/n isn’t real!”

You gasp and rush over to the couch and cover their ears. “How dare you! That’s a very sophisticated young man/lady you’re talking about.”

“I am sick of always coming in second to that stupid thing. You act like you love it more than you love me! Giving it a kiss and not me, how rude. We both can’t keep living here; one of us has to go.”

That got you to laugh. “This coming from the same woman who, after sending me away to sleep on the couch after an argument, comes down in the middle of the night to sleep on the floor beside the couch because you got lonely.”

Alcina blushed.

“Something tells me you won’t let me go anywhere.”

She stays quiet, only giving a huff as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“If I give you a kiss now will you stop whining?”

Alcina pretends to consider this for a moment before answering. “Will you sit on my lap?”

“Of course, my love,” you smile.

“No p/n.”

You giggle as you make yourself comfortable straddling her things. “No p/n.”

Alcina pulls you flush against her front and kisses you. “Good.” She bites your lower lip, making you gasp. She takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss and relax back into the couch. Out of sheer pettiness, Alcina cracks an eye open to see the plush staring at your display of affection. She smiled into your kiss and gives it the middle finger before focusing all her attention on ravishing you.

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #tall vampire lady #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina #no she's not the jealous type #not at all

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

His Lovely Girl.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Requested: nope

Warnings: insecurity

Summary: Sebastian spoils her all the time. What has she ever done for him? When someone leaves a rude comment under her Instagram post, she can't help but rethink her entire relationship with the handsome actor.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! We're back to Marvel lol, enjoy!

---

"I'll see you later, dove, have fun!" Y/N grinned when her boyfriend leaned over, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Bye, Seb, I'll miss you," she whispered and he looked down at her, his heart swelling in his chest, full of appreciation for her. He loved her so much. "I'll miss you too, Y/N, but I'll only be gone for around 6 hours." Y/N pouted and he couldn't help it.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. "I know. Go now, I don't want to be the reason you're late." He laughed heartily when she pushed him away with a smile. "Oh, doll, everyone knows about us, they'll know anyway." With that, he waved at her and left the apartment they shared. Y/N had moved in with him 2 years into dating.

Sebastian Stan; let's just say, he was a busy man. Y/N sighed and got up from the bed, feeling hungry. They had started dating 4 years ago, and what years those were; the most blissful ones in both their lives. They loved each other to death, and they knew that. Y/N waddled into the kitchen and looked around the various cabinets, finding a box of Mac and Cheese.

It was a funny story, actually, how they met. Y/N, at the time, was working as a barista at Starbucks. One day, Sebastian had walked into the Starbucks where she worked, and she was the one who took his order. He was extremely polite, funny and a bit awkward and just like that, she fell in love with him all over again. Y/N was a Marvel geek and Sebastian had noticed.

"I really like your hoodie, doll, where'd you get it?" he had asked her after telling her his order. And she had looked down, seeing the custom-made hoodie she wore. It was black in colour, but one of the sleeves was silver and had a red star on the bicep, just like his arm from the movie Captain America: Winter Soldier.

Bucky's trigger words were printed on the front of the hoodie. She had blushed furiously, simultaneously cursing and thanking her fate and coincidence. "I had it custom made," she had told him at the time and he had grinned so wide he thought his mouth would tear open. That was the moment where he, too, realized that he was getting a crush on the pretty barista.

And he hadn't hesitated to ask her for her number. He had taken a tissue paper, scribbled his number down and had written what's yours? ;) underneath. When he went to pay for his coffee, he purposely made sure that he wasn't giving her any change. With his notes, he slid her the tissue and she took it, giving him a confused look.

When she read it, her breath hitched. While pulling out his change, she had discreetly written her number down on the tissue, saved his on her phone and had given the tissue back to him with the coins. Both of them had grinned widely at each other when he left. While walking home, he had taken out the tissue and had seen her number written neatly under his. And his heart raced, Y/N is worth it.

---

*@yn_yln posted a photo*

4,583 likes

yn_yln Mac and Cheese, anyone? :D

Y/N smiled and logged out of her Instagram account after posting the photo. She just couldn't resist; she looked good that day, one of those days where she felt confident enough to post a picture. She kept her phone away and sauntered into the sitting room to watch something on the television. An hour passed before she yawned, feeling tired.

2:05 pm, her watch displayed. Well, there's no harm in an afternoon nap, am I right? Sebastian wasn't home anyway, and it's not like she had anything to do. Grabbing her phone off the dining table, she walked into hers and Sebastian's shared bedroom, plopping down on the bed. She decided to check her Instagram before falling asleep and opened the said app.

She went through the page that displayed all the likes and comments, pausing at one comment. Her heart dropped as she clicked on the comment, her entire being filling with an uneasy feeling. You're only dating him for the money, admit it. Until then, she had never even thought… about that. Throwing her phone to the side she sat up, breathing heavily.

Y/N was currently jobless. After they started going out, she continued working at Starbucks until last year; Sebastian had suggested that she leave the job and work somewhere better, earn a higher salary. Y/N had discarded the idea at first, since the job paid enough for her to go about her daily things and where would she even find another job?

Starbucks was okay. But Sebastian wouldn't hear it. So she left the job, now jobless. She had applied to a few places but hadn't received any news as of yet. They're right. I'm living off of him. I don't even have a job. What does it look like? A broke woman dating a rich, handsome guy? Oh my God, am I leeching off his hard work? All those thoughts rushed through her head in a span of a few seconds.

The more she thought about it, the more she teared up. Blinking the tears away, she lay back down and curled up under the comfortable blankets. His blankets. She closed her eyes, trying her hardest to fall asleep but the tears were proving it to be difficult. Fortunately, she drifted off into an uneasy slumber 15 minutes later.

---

"Baby, I'm home!"

Silence. Sebastian frowned, carefully walking into the house. "Y/N?" he called out but there was no answer. Keeping the bag he was holding away, he walked further into the apartment, stopping at the doorway of their bedroom. "Aw," he whispered under his breath, smiling, stepping into the bedroom. He gently sat next to his sleeping girlfriend.

His knuckles traced her cheeks but he froze. Why is she so cold? His soft touch was enough to wake her up, because she stirred and blinked up at him. "Seb, hi, welcome back." Her voice was hoarse. "Y/N? Did you fall sick?" he asked worriedly as she sat up, distancing herself from him. "I'm not sick," she muttered but Sebastian wouldn't buy it.

He reached out to cup her cheek, feeling like he had been stabbed multiple times when she leaned away from his touch. "Y/N?" She shook her head and looked out of the window, bringing her knees to her chest. "Just wanna be alone right now." She didn't want to send him away. She wanted to sit in his lap, listen to him rambling about his day…

But she also didn't want to be near him. Do I even deserve him? "What happened?" he insisted, his eyes going wide when she glared at him. "Go. Away." He scrambled off the bed without another word, softly closing the door behind him as he walked into the sitting room, running a hand through his hair. He sat down on the couch and looked around.

What happened in those 6 hours that he was away? Sebastian knew she wasn't on her cycle, it still had another week to come. So it wasn't mood swings. His eyes landed on the empty bowl of Mac and Cheese sitting on the dining table but they skimmed right past it, not knowing that that bowl was the reason for Y/N's sadness. Then he stared at the designer handbag on the opposite couch.

Picking up the bag, he strode back to their room, knocking on the door. Maybe seeing a pretty purse would lighten her mood? "What?" Y/N called out from inside and he opened the door, holding the purse up. "I brought you a gift." Y/N's heart started thudding in her chest and tears glistened in her eyes anew as she stared at the bag with utmost resentment.

"I don't want it."

Sebastian went rigid. She never rejects my gifts. "Y/N—" She started shaking her head. "No. Return it. I'm not taking it. I don't want it," she repeated, her glare now directed at him. "But doll…" he tried, freezing when her jaw clenched. "Get out." Disheartened, he walked out once more, more confused than anything. Now I have to know what happened.

Inside the room, Y/N sobbed silently. The bag was so pretty, her favorite color, the sleek design… she wanted to keep it so bad, but she knew she wasn't worthy of it. Sebastian brought her gifts all the time. Most of them expensive as shit; he had the money to blow off. What had she done for him? Nothing, really. He spoiled her heartily, never once allowing her to do the same.

"You're mine, baby girl, mine to love, mine to cherish, mine to spoil."

She was definitely leeching off him. Outside the room, Sebastian took out his phone and texted Y/F/N, who was Y/N's closest friend. They rarely spoke, but Y/N told Y/F/N everything and he knew she'd have answers.

hey, do you know what's up with y/n

why what happened

she's in a really bad mood

she's angry at me and I brought her a gift but she won't take it

she usually loves them but today…

OH WAIT

I know what happened

she texted me in the afternoon

something about a comment on Instagram or something

ig that's why she's in a bad mood

thanks

I'll check it out

He ended the conversation and opened Instagram, seeing a new post from his dear girlfriend. Sebastian couldn't help but smile as he liked the photo, commenting a heart emoji. There were only around 22 comments on the post, so he decided to go through them. Which comment had triggered her? He found it instantly and his nostrils flared.

Replying to the fairly rude comment, he typed, how about you fuck off and mind your own damn business? If you don't like her, unfollow and leave. There's literally nothing else you need to do. After hitting send, he kept his phone away and, determination shining in his eyes, ran back to the bedroom.

He threw open the door and a sob escaped the lips of the startled woman. He started taking off the annoying clothes he was wearing until he was just in his boxers, sliding into the bed next to her. She attempted to push him away but the strong man didn't budge, holding her on his lap as she thrashed. Soon, she gave up the fight and melted against him, crying her eyes out.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again and again, her breath hitching. "Hush, baby, it's okay, I'm not mad," he whispered, rubbing her back, helping her calm down. She rested her head on his shoulder, her arms tight around him. "Tell me the truth. What happened?" he asked even though he knew the answer. Tiredly, Y/N narrated everything; from the comment to all her insecurities.

Sebastian gently cupped her cheeks, wiping her tears off. "Y/N, you're mine. I love taking care of you, I love spoiling you, and I don't do it because I expect something in return, I do it because I love you. Don't listen to strangers on the internet, what better work do they have? Nothing but lowlifes. You don't have to do anything for me. I don't want you to do anything for me."

"But Seb…"

"No. No, you're my girlfriend and only the best for my girl. I love all the gifts you get me. I cherish them wholeheartedly. Just you being my girl is a gift better than anything else in the world, to be honest. But I'm going to continue looking after you whether you like it or not. You don't even have to go to work, I'm here for you. I love you." Y/N teared up again.

They were happy tears.

"I love you so much," she cried weakly and Sebastian pulled her to him, cradling her head, breathing her in. "I love you too, doll. Now will you take my gift, please?" She nodded against him and he gently lowered her on the bed, going outside to get the bag. Once back in their room he handed the bag to her, smiling at the way her eager hands reached up to accept the gift.

As he watched her admiring the bag, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, till death do them part.

His girl, his lovely girl.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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pastelwitchling · 2 years

Text

I am having the shittiest week and I’ve been reading your fics because they’re comfort to me and I know you’re probably way busy but was wondering, if you get time and it’s not a bother, if you could write a rnm fic where the group realizes how important Alex is to them, each one, and the whole group starts acting different (getting him lunch, checking in, worrying about him, etc) and it confuses him so he finally ask what’s the deal and they tell him they wanted to be better at appreciating him?

***

Alex first started to notice things were changed after his fever had cleared up.

Usually he was good at hiding his illnesses, able to work through them on nothing but painkillers and a thermos filled with scalding tea, but this one had been bad. Bad enough for Ramos to notice, bad enough for Michael to rush home, bad enough that Alex couldn’t so much step out of bed let alone take care of himself. Michael hadn’t seemed to want to allow it anyway.

Kyle had come by more than once to check on him, assure them that he didn’t need a hospital, which Alex was grateful for, and prescribed some strong medication to help ease his pain.

“What’s doing this to him?” Michael had demanded at one point, and Kyle had shrugged, half-exasperated, half-exhausted.

“What do you think? He’s taken on too much, especially for him. I know we all want to pretend Alex isn’t always in pain, but he is.” He’d sighed, shaking his head. “Sooner or later, being a hero catches up with you.”

Alex had fallen asleep right afterwards at the time, the argument that he could handle it, that he wanted to do whatever he could to help Michael and his friends, already drifting away, forgotten just like the conversation.

The next time he’d woken up to Michael lying in bed beside him, his fingers raking his hair back in that soothing way that made Alex want to curl up on his lap and go right back to sleep, it was to a clear head. The pain in his limbs had receded immensely, his breathing was coming out deep and steady, and his eyes didn’t feel like they were radiating heat anymore.

Michael had checked his forehead and smiled so beautifully that Alex really did curl into him that time and let himself sleep for another few minutes. Then he got tired of lying in bed, absolutely sick of it actually, and managed to make it into the living room without any help. Michael draped a blanket over his shoulders that Alex insisted he didn’t need, and groaned when Michael started rushing around to turn on the TV for him, to make him food, to tuck him into another blanket.

“Guerin, I’m fine,” he insisted, reaching out a hand for him. “All I need is you, will you please just sit here?”

Michael blushed at the bluntness of his words, but Alex hadn’t been able to properly touch him in weeks, and even though he’d had him at his side the entire time, he still missed him like crazy. So when Michael sat down beside him, Alex wasted no time in throwing his blanket over Michael’s shoulders too, and resting his head on Michael’s shoulder, sneaking a hand under his shirt and hugging his waist and breathing him in, now that his sinuses weren’t clogged and he could actually smell again.

Michael shifted a little underneath him so that he was all but bracketing Alex with his legs and Alex was resting on his chest.

That was the last moment of peace Alex knew before things started to get weird. A knock came at the door not long into their movie, just when Alex was starting to feel really awake for the first time in forever, and Michael had yelled, “It’s open!”

He had expected Kyle, maybe even one of his brothers or Isobel, but instead it was Liz, holding an honest-to-God gift basket.

“Hey, handsome!” she grinned widely at the sight of Alex, setting the gift basket down before she bent down to squeeze him in a tight hug. “You’re awake! Feeling any better?”

Alex just barely had time to look over at Michael, startled, before Liz had his face in her hands. “The color’s back in your cheeks, not your forehead, which is good. Hmm,” she pressed the back of her fingers to the side of his neck, “you’re still warm, but I think that’s just because of the blankets. No no, stay bundled up, the best thing for you right now is to sweat through the rest of it.”

“Liz, would you please –” he trailed off, squirming away from her touch, embarrassed by her fussing. “What’re you doing? I’m fine!”

“I know you are!” she scoffed. “You’re always fine, you’re so tough!”

Alex stared. “What?”

“Oh, look what I got you!” she unwrapped the gift basket and held up two large pomegranates. “Your favorite, right? I’ll just go chop them up for you, since it can get messy and all.”

“Wait, Liz –” he tried, but Liz had already disappeared into the kitchen and Alex was left talking to no one. He looked to Michael, confused. “What the hell was that?”

Another knock at the open door came, and then Maria walked in. “Hi! Oh, Alex, good, you’re up. You feeling any better?”

“Well, I –”

“Check it out, I came prepared.” She held up a Tupperware in one hand, a pizza in the other. “Margherita,” she smiled, pleased with herself, “your favorite! And I made you some of my famous roasted chicken with chili sauce! I’ll just go heat ‘em up for ya!”

“Maria –” he tried, but she, just like Liz, disappeared before he could stop her. He looked up at his boyfriend for some explanation. “Michael?”

“There he is!” Isobel suddenly walked in without knocking, her grin wide. Kyle was right behind her, his hands in his pockets as he shook his head at the ceiling. “There’s our hero!”

Alex pressed the base of his palm to his temple. “I think I’m getting a headache.”

“Are Ortecho and DeLuca cooking inside?” Isobel peered around to the kitchen door. “Good, I’ll go join them, I got you some Grade A Cajun shrimp which, trust me, is so spicy it’ll burn the fever right out of you! And then, you and I are gonna have some good old-fashioned boy talk, right? You and me, Manes, it’s a date!” And she pecked Kyle’s cheek and walked off too.

Michael looked completely unsurprised by anything that was going on. He brushed back Alex’s bangs, his smile soft. “You need anything? Water? More soup?”

Alex stared back, eyes widening. He caught Michael’s wrist and lowered his hand. “Did you not just see what I did?” He blinked, the possibility hitting him. His eyes flickered to Kyle. “I’m not hallucinating, am I? You’re really here?”

“Yeah, I am,” Kyle heaved a sigh as he sat down on Alex’s other side, swatting Michael’s leg away. He gave him an awkward smile. “And so’s the cavalry.”

“I don’t get it,” Alex said, straightening. “What’s wrong with everyone, why’re they acting so weird?”

“It’s weird for everyone to care about you?” Michael said quietly. He wasn’t looking at Alex.

“Caring is one thing,” Alex said bluntly, “doting on is another, I – I don’t like being fussed over, you know I don’t, and I’ve definitely never been fussed over by my friends.”

Michael met Alex’s eyes, and Alex was surprised to find actual anger. “But it’s okay for Kyle to fuss over you? We can’t but he can?”

“W-What?”

“For the hundredth time, Guerin,” Kyle said grimly, “I’m his doctor and his best friend, if I didn’t fuss over him when he was sick, I wouldn’t be doing my job as either.”

Alex watched them exchange glares, and he wondered what kind of conversations they’d been having while he was too sick to stay awake.

He gently touched Michael’s jaw, and Michael seemed to wake from whatever raging haze he was in. Alex took the chance to turn his head so that he could meet his eyes again. He shook his head, trying for a nervous smile, to show that he wasn’t angry or upset at all by what was happening, but confused and a little overwhelmed.

“What’d you do, pretty cowboy?”

All of Michael’s fury seemed to shatter away at the nickname, and he swallowed, one hand inching towards Alex’s waist.

“When you got sick . . .” he said hoarsely, “we realized it was because of us. Everything we put you through pushed you over the edge, Alex.”

“Whoa whoa,” Alex’s shoulders slumped. “Guerin, you didn’t make me sick.”

“I didn’t protect you from it either!”

“Okay, first of all,” Alex said, “I’m human, humans get fevers, it happens. And second, you’re the one that took care of me when I couldn’t take care of myself, that sounds like protection to me.”

“Stop defending us,” Michael said through gritted teeth. “Stop pretending like we didn’t hurt you, like we didn’t keep forcing more than you could handle on you! We hurt you, Alex, don’t let us get away with it!”

“You could never hurt me!” Alex argued, taking Michael’s hands in his and not letting him go. “You give me something to fight for, Michael!”

“I don’t want you to fight anymore if it’ll kill you!”

Alex pursed his lips, studying him. Then, “You really think I’m that weak? That I can’t handle it?”

“I can’t handle it, Alex!” he snapped, his eyes glassy. “I can’t handle seeing you so sick that you can’t even pick your head up, I can’t handle knowing that it’s because of me! You’re not the weak one, Alex, I am!”

“Okay, okay, hey,” Alex tried, his voice soft as he pulled Michael in against him. He hugged his shoulders, reaching a hand through his curls. “Shh, it’s okay. Calm down, it’s okay.” He held Michael as he breathed shakily, and for the first time, he wondered how it must’ve been for Michael to see Alex lying in bed like the dead, unable to talk to him, unable to even open his eyes half the time. It was no wonder he freaked out.

He waited until Michael’s breaths steadied, running a hand up and down his back, then he whispered into his hair, “Listen to me, Michael. I’ve waited years to have you and I finally do. I’m not going to let anything take me away from you.”

“I don’t want you to keep saying yes,” Michael croaked, “because you’re worried that I won’t love you if you say no.” Alex hugged him tighter, the words hitting closer to home than he would’ve liked. “We didn’t even think about what might happen to you, Alex, we just wanted you to fix it.” His voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” Alex pressed a kiss to his crown and breathed deeply into his curls. “Listen . . . I . . .” He shut his eyes and relented, “Fine, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll run the big things by you. If you’re uncomfortable with me taking it on . . . I won’t.” Michael looked up, hopeful, and Alex reiterated, “The big things, Guerin, I can handle most things though.”

“Still,” Kyle scoffed behind him. “That’ll be something to see.”

Michael grabbed fistfuls of Alex’s shirt, looking up at him like he was some kind of treasure. “Y-You’ll really talk to me about it? You’ll say no?”

Alex’s eyes softened. “I’d do anything for you, Michael. Anything.”

Michael’s lower lip trembled and he tilted his chin up to kiss Alex, but Alex turned away at the last second. “You can’t, I’m sick!”

“I don’t care,” Michael breathed, turning Alex’s face and kissing his lips. At least it was quick, so Alex didn’t even have time to remind himself that Michael couldn’t get sick anyway.

As soon as they pulled away, Alex heard Liz and Maria talking about adding pomegranates to the chicken and he groaned. “Can you call off the guilt-cooking now?”

Michael grinned, nuzzling Alex’s neck. “Nah,” he murmured. “I think you’re owed a good meal, Private.”

Kyle sighed and stood. “I’ll go keep them from burning the kitchen down.”

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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ghost-like-pale · 3 years

Text

a flinch is enough

info: the past never forgets, and techno never forgives. 》 they/them 》 in canon + platonic 》 1.4k words

warnings: sexual assault, explicit descriptions of murder/blood, hurt/comfort, swearing

a/n: this was a request from my beautiful 🌹 anon, thank you for sending this in. i made the implications of sexual assault a a little more subtle but i still hope you like it.

this blog it meant as a way of coping with trauma/mental issues, please don't report it. if you don't want to see what i write, please just block me.

——♤——

the moonlit sky was a beautiful dark blue as you stared at the light. you had been doing housework the entire day due to your counterpart being too busy with whatever he was brewing upstairs. the piglin hybrid usually helped you when he was home, it's his house after all. but today was different, you supposed.

you were so caught up in the moon's doings that you didn't notice the tall figure creeping down the stairs and right behind you. he assumed you were aware of him and went to tap on your shoulder.

as soon as he does you whip your head around, backing away from him as you hold one arm in front of your face and the other in front of your lower body. the shaking of your body became more prominent as time went on.

"(y/n)?"

you couldn't look at him. you weren't strong enough.

"(y/n), please. look at me."

you lowered your arms hesitantly and looked him in the eyes still filled with fear.

"(y/n), i'm not going to hurt you. i promise."

you averted your gaze and drop both your arms. tears leaked out of your eyes and cupped your face with your hands, all the memories coming back and hitting you like a truck.

"i'm so sorry, techno."

you dropped to the floor, your knees buckling under you and techno barely being able to catch you. you felt a heavy, warm cape drape over your figure while a worried piglin grunt escaped techno's throat. he got on one knee and rested one of his hands on your shoulder.

"don't apologize."

two simple words managed to tug at your heartstrings so harshly you couldn't hold it in anymore. you sobbed loudly into your hands, completely losing any posture you tried to maintain. techno was startled, thinking he did something wrong. he quickly snapped out of it, however, and pulled your body by the shoulders into his chest. his firm grasp made you feel secure, stifling your cries a little.

"...are you alright?"

you knew he had no idea how to handle it from here, but you appreciated the concern and kindness he showed. you pulled back from his embrace and wiped your eyes gingerly.

"i'm.. a little better."

"good."

the voices wanted to know who did this - who made you this way. who the fuck hurt you? he tried to keep them quiet, but he wanted them dead as much as his mind.

"can you tell me what happened?"

everything was silent for a few seconds. the voices were quiet, nothing came out of techno's mouth. you sighed and shakily started explaining yourself. techno listened silently, trying to catch every detail and description of the man who scarred you. he had a basic image of him in his mind by the time you were done.

"thank you for telling me."

techno glanced outside the window, the soft glow of the moon telling him it's late. how long had he been brewing? he shuffled a bit and eventually stuck an arm under your legs and upper body. with a small yelp you were lifted a few feet in the air, the cape that you were siting under fell off your back and onto the floor in the proces.

"you need some rest."

you didn't bother trying to stop him. your mind was foggy and your body felt heavy.

"thank you, techno."

"shh, there's no need to thank me."

in comfortable silence you were carried up the stairs and into techno's room. you were confused, you had your own room after all. you didn't mind, though. he placed you on the mattress he slept on rarely. his bed was bigger, the blanket was heavier, the pillow was softer, everything felt better. you wrapped yourself in the plush blanket and felt your eyelids getting heavier already.

"sleep well, (y/n)."

just as he was about to stand up you grabbed a hold of his wrist. he looked at you quizzically, knitting his eyebrows together.

"where are you going?"

"don't worry, i won't be away for long. now sleep."

"fine. good night, techno."

"good night."

—

looking through his bag once more technoblade checked if he forgot to grab anything; he had food, arrows, ender pearls, potions and a small knife. on his hips hung his axe, crossbow and sword, yearning to be used. his bag was full and everything he needed was in his possession. before he opened the door techno noticed the red velvet fabric resting on the ground. with a few paces he arrived in the kitchen and picked up the cape. he swung it over his shoulders and adjusted it carefully. with a loud exhale he stepped out of his house and into the cold weather of the tundra. he whisteled a command and one of the wolves in the pack jumped out of the enclosure it sat in and rushed over to techno's side. he was going to find them.

you've shown him your previous residence multiple times, which is where he was going to look first. it was his best guess. while making his way over to your former abode the wolf that traveled with him was scouting out ahead, hoping it would find it faster than techno.

techno's eyes shoot in the animal's direction when it starts barking aggressively at a moving figure across the woods. the voices screamed at him to assist his pet, to shoot him, kill him immediately, to which he happily obliged. he sped over to his companion, hoping to catch a better glimpse of the person.

"stop him, now!"

techno ordered the animal. after a few seconds he heard a loud thud followed by a yell belonging to a man in immense pain. he made his way over to the barking wolf, it having a slightly stained mouth from its jaws going through the man's flesh and muscles. he found them.

"what's the rush?"

he towered over the other male pathetically writhing on the floor. his calf had a nasty teeth mark, bleeding profusely and covered in dirt and saliva.

"p-please... don't... hurt me!"

"why shouldn't i?"

technoblade hated these kind of men; not even willing to fight or run. just begging and whimpering for mercy. it made him sick. the wolf that followed him all the way here was still barking, ready to tear the man to shreds.

he takes his netherite axe off his hip and hoists it over his shoulder. techno looks the other man right in the eyes, fully aware it fills him with fear. he wanted to feel everything you were put through. he was going to feel your pain.

"i...i've never done anything to you..!"

technoblade froze at the sentence. nothing? he thinks he's done nothing? he's not completely wrong; he's never physically hurt him - he's never even met him before. his train of thought was interrupted by the voices yelling in his head. they were screaming at him to cut him, to strangle him, to burn him, anything. he needed to feel pain.

"does the name (y/n) mean anything to you?"

the horror on the man's face got worse by the second, him figuring out why techno is here. the piglin drops to one knee and gets about an inch away from his victim's face.

"am i going to get an answer?"

"y-yes! we were friends a few years ago."

techno let his axe fall off his shoulder and into the dirt, the blade only falling a few inches away from the other male's injured leg.

"do friends traumatize each other?"

the question filled the victim with dread, his monotone voice only adding to the fear.

"y-you don't know what we did!"

the sudden surge in confidence surprised techno, to be sure. there was nothing more pathetic than a man yelling at the brink of death in such a tone. he scoffed with an amused expression and retracted his axe back into the holder that rested on his hip.

"yeah! they were lying to you, i promise. that's the reason i stopped being friends in the first- GAH!"

his sentence was cut of by a dagger being plunged into his stomach and dragged up to his ribs, cutting open his body. he mewled and moaned in agonizing pain, unable to form any coherent words.

"you disgust me."

technoblade stood up, his ears twitching and voices pleased. the blood on his hand dripped on the dried leaves as he called the wolf he brought with him. as the animal sped over to technoblades' side the screams of the impaled man were completely gone. looking over his shoulder he sees the lifeless body of the man who has haunted you for a long time.

he'll never hurt you again.

——♤——

thank you for reading, hope you liked it.

masterlist

taglist;

@esylwen

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sunarinluvr · 3 years

Text

|| haikyuu boys finding you asleep on the couch after an argument ||

includes: kuroo tetsurou, miya osamu, & oikawa tooru

a/n- hello! sorry for posting so late, but this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and i was actually in the mood to finish it so i hope yall enjoy! oh and im not really sure about how i feel about it,,, might take it down later we shall see.

warnings: none ( lmk if there’s anything! )

KUROO -

last night you saw a post kuroo’s “work wife” had made on instagram with her kissing him on the cheek, and it didn’t make you feel the best, so you decided to bring it up to him the next morning. and you did, just as he was getting ready for work you talked to him about it.

you were standing in front of him filled with anger arguing about how it made you uncomfortable, “can you please listen?! i dont feel comfortable with your “work wife” kissing you?” you yelled. “Y/N it was on the cheek its not a big deal!” and to be honest you just wanted to cry.

finally, he walked past you and opened the door. “i don’t have time for this y/n, stop being so insecure! at least she wouldn’t argue over something so small!” and with that, he slammed the door and you stood there stunned. kuroo knew that he shouldn’t have said that, instant regret and guilt filled his gut.

but he already said it, he can’t do anything about it now. with a frustrated sigh, he went to work. hoping to fix everything when he gets home. you stood there speechless, as you realized you still had work so slowly you made your way to the bathroom.

after getting ready and grabbing a quick snack you were out the door with a heavy chest. once you get home, tired and feeling worse than before. you trudged to the couch and plopped down letting out a shaky sigh remembering the argument and the words he said repeating in your head.

you broke down crying, and before you knew it, the exhaustion from today took over and you were sound asleep on the couch. kuroo got home an hour later, he felt guilty and was already practicing how he’d apologize to you as he walked in.“y/n? kitten?” no answer.

he called out again, and was met with silence, he made his way over to the living room where he found you sleeping on the couch. gently walking towards you he knelt down, and saw your tear-stained face which made his heart sink. “i fucked up” he said to himself.

giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead he softly apologized and carried you to the bedroom. you ended up waking up when you felt his body weight dent the bed. “tetsu?” you said softly squinting at him. relief rushes through his body at the sound of his nickname. looking at you with guilt in his eyes

“im so sorry kitten, i shouldn’t have said that. i didn’t mean to hurt you” he said gently. at that tears started flowing again and he was quick to hug you and wipe your tears with his other hand. “it’s ok, i shouldn’t have been so insecure anyways”

he shook his head with a frown “no it’s not your fault ok? i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you so so much and i’m so lucky that you’re mine” you look up at him and gave him a small smile “okay” before cuddling closer to him. giving you a soft kiss on the lips he hugged you tighter as you both fell asleep.

OSAMU -

osamu was just having a horrible day, his head was pounding and the customers he had to deal with today were just plain rude. then he had to do most of the work since one of his employees called in sick, and for some reason, everything just annoyed him.

you on the other hand did not know about his day at all and thought it would be nice of you to make a surprise visit. walking in with a huge smile on your face stopping midway when you realize he wasn’t at the counter. “where’s samu?” you asked sweetly to the employee

“he’s in the back, i think he has a headache,” she says giving you a small smile. you can tell something was off by the way she spoke but decided to just brush it off and make your way to the back. “hi samu! surprise!” you exclaimed cheerfully as you make your way towards him

he just kind of looks at you, which you thought was weird, but you decided to hug him anyways. when he doesn’t hug you back and groan, you pull away and look at him “baby i heard you had a headache. i didn’t bring any medicine, but we could eat first and i-”

you couldn’t even finish your sentence since osamu just stood up. he was infuriated and had no clue why, usually loved listening to you but today he was just annoyed. “look y/n a don’t mean ta be rude, but a don't have the energy for this right now. please just go home.” he said coldly staring right at you.

“excuse me? i came here to surprise you and this is what i get??” you said in shock, voice a little louder this time. rolling his eyes “Oh wow am so surprised! now will ya please go home? a don’t wanna argue right now!” he yelled. with tears forming in your eyes you quickly wiped them and left. osamu knew he shouldn’t have said all that, but he was too mad to run after you in front of all the customers.

you rushed home and sluggishly made your way to your room to change into something comfier, making your way to the couch, curling up into a ball allowing your tears to fall, and somehow falling asleep, after getting tired of crying. he gets home a few hours later, guilt building up in his stomach as he mentally slaps himself for the things he said.

walking into the living room he opened the lights and you were the first thing he noticed. seeing you curled up into a ball on the couch made his heart drop to his stomach. you on the other hand woke up because of the sudden change of lighting.

gradually adjusting your sight you see him and switch your gaze onto the floor when you saw him look at you too. seeing your puffy eyes he walks towards you slowly and sits beside you giving you enough space. “am sorry, a shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on ya.”

you look at him with watery eyes and his heart sinks “yea i was just trying to be nice, sorry i didn’t warn you before coming” he opened his arms and you instinctively scooted closer to him, he sighs “no a love it when you surprise me a was jus having a bad day a love ya so much ok?” finally hugging him “okay i love you too” giving you a quick kiss he offered to make you food and of course you said yes.

OIKAWA -

you love oikawa, and you’re very supportive and understanding especially when it comes to his career. but he has an awful habit of overworking himself and as much as you love him you can't bear the fact that you couldn’t even see him anymore.

he goes home late at night -as in you’re already sound asleep late- and when you do stay up to see him, he’s too tired to even keep a conversation. then the next morning he’s gone before you could even wake up. you’ve spoken to him about this many times, but alas nothing changed.

you woke up to an empty bed as usual, but today was different though, you’ve planned a dinner for about 2 weeks now. you were very excited because it’s been so long since you both spent some quality time together and he promised to come home early.

getting up you send him a little text reminding him of your dinner tonight, with a smile you head on over to the bathroom to get ready for work. once work was over you made a quick visit to the grocery store to buy the ingredients you’ll need to make tonight’s dinner.

quietly humming to yourself while going through each aisle, and double-checking your list to make sure you’re not missing anything while checking your phone here and there. oikawa still hasn’t replied “he must be busy,” you say to yourself as you send him another text about the dinner just in case. after about 30 minutes you get home rushing since it was already late, and immediately getting started on dinner.

once you're done you sat down and waited, and waited, and waited. it's been 4 hours. dinners cold and still no sign of your boyfriend. you decided to call him pissed off that he couldn’t even show up to one dinner, “hello? y/n i can't talk right now i still need to practice”

he said as soon as he picked up. “tooru? did you get my texts? what about dinner, we’ve made plans for this 2 weeks prior! i even-” you were cut off “look just eat without me ok? we can eat again somet-” now it was your turn to cut him off.

“oikawa tooru, you leave the house while i’m asleep and come back when i'm asleep. i just wanted to spend time with you..whatever good luck at practice,” you replied as you hang up. his heart sank when he heard the crack in your voice rushing to his car on his way home to you because he knows he fucked up.

buying your favorite flowers for you on the way home cursing himself and the world for making it traffic at that exact moment. when he got home the first thing he saw was the food and you fast asleep on the couch. he felt a pang of guilt about being late.

“y/n chan?” he said while gently waking you up. you stare at him with red puffy eyes and he hugged you giving you the flowers “im sorry baby, i should’ve prioritized you and our dinner. i promise ill do better” you saw how genuine he was being so you accepted the flowers and hugged him tighter as he offered to reheat the food you made.

reblogs are highly appreciated!

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vidalinav · 3 years

Text

Stu(died)-Chapter 3

Summary: Cassian takes care of a sick Nesta

Nessian Modern AU-university setting.

Masterlist, Stu(died) Chapter List

(Rolls eyes hardcore) I am continuing this fic for literally five people. Smh.

Nesta comes to their tutoring session late and that’s the first thing that tips him off. Already his phone is in his hand ready to call 911. He has Nesta’s number in his phone saved. The first person listed in his text log under Nerd. He can always text or call her. He belongs to The Rat Pack in Nesta’s Snap Chat group, and he knows he can always contact Emerie or Gwyn if something is truly wrong. Yet he dials in 911 and his thumb hovers over the call button.

If she doesn’t show up in fifteen minutes, Cassian swears he’ll call.

Nesta’s never late. In fact, she’s annoyingly early. She practically has a stop watch in her hand at all times, counting every minute she waits. When Cassian comes running in five minutes later, as he so often does, panting with some excuse, Nesta doesn’t even bother looking up from her textbook. She merely gestures to the seat, a heavy sigh on her lips, like she’s running out of time to bore him death even as she fascinates him to pieces.

Her books should already be splayed onto the table, her pencils straight and neatly lined up. Today, the table is empty.

He’ll give it fifteen minutes and then he’s calling.

But Nesta shows up before another minute ticks by. She steps out of the elevator wearing that grey polo he’s seen on her a million times. She lugs her way to him, dragging her feet with the weight of those textbooks he’s sure are in her bag.

She’s wearing a mask, today, and that’s another thing that sends his brain screeching somethings not right here! It covers half of her face, and her eyes look tired from where they peak above the fabric. Cassian doesn’t even bother waiting for her to settle. Already he’s crossing his arms, his brows crinkling with concern and something like irritation.

How dare she think studying is more important than her health.

“Go home,” he says as she nears. Nesta only blinks as if as not understanding his words. The fact that she doesn’t immediately argue is enough for him to start gathering his things.

“What are you doing?” She says as he stuffs his notebook in his bag, “You have an exam in two weeks.” Nesta sets down her own, it slaps at the table with a heavy thump. Cassian can hear the zipper unzipping but not as well as the cough that roars out of her mouth.

It’s loud and wet, and Nesta pauses as if to get her bearings, covering her mouth with her arm. She coughs and coughs and Cassian lays a hand to his own chest. He can almost feel how much it hurts, how she gasps.

Cassian shakes his head, “No, I’m taking you home.”

Nesta’s brows furrow and she gets that look in her eyes. He just knows she’s going to fight him on this. “I--”

Cassian cuts her off, “please, save your breath. You’re going to make everyone sick.”

“I’m wearing a mask!” Nesta argues.

“It’s almost midterms.” Cassian gestures to the other occupants in the library. He sees one person with their hoodie pulled up over their head, clearly sleeping... and moves on to someone else. A group in the corner who’s standing by a whiteboard. “You want to take your chances with sleep deprived students?”

Nesta seems to think about that. While she does, Cassian zips up her bag and throws it over his shoulder. It’s as heavy as he thought it might be. Briefly, he thinks of making a joke about how she must have stuffed a body in here, but he doesn’t think she’d appreciate it, given how quiet she is.

Mentally, he starts making a list of everything she needs. Medicine? He’ll get the pills and the syrup, never mind if she scrunches her nose at the taste. He’ll get her soup. Not the canned. Cassian will buy the ingredients. He’s sure he can make something appeasing. Vaguely, he can remember his mom’s recipe. Beef broth and cabbage and squash. Hopefully she can stomach it. Never mind, the salt will be good for her.

“Hey,” she whines, blinking up at him slowly, “give me my bag.”

“Have you not heard me? You need to be home lying down. Not here, helping me study. Why on earth did you think this was a good idea? I’m taking you home.”

Nesta crosses her arms and the intimidation tactic seems ridiculous with her face half covered and her endless sniffling. “You can try, but I’ll just refuse to tell you my apartment number.”

Cassian scoffs, “I know where you live. I can see your room from the house when you study at night.”

“Who says that out loud?” Nesta shouts.

She must be terribly ill if she’s yelling in a library. That’s all he can think as he gestures to the elevator, bags in hand.

“Never mind that. Let’s go,” Cassian says, walking ahead without her.

He can’t hear her shuffling though, so he turns back to find Nesta leaning on a chair, holding her stomach. He can already feel himself sighing.

Cassian rushes back just in time for Nesta to rip off her mask, and move to the closest trashcan. It’s situated under one of the bulletin boards and as Cassian sidles up to her, rubbing at her back and pulling her hair away, he looks to the papers tacked to the board.

Join the rowing team. Looking for tutors. Research participants wanted.

He can hear the retching and Cassian reads on.

Babysitter wanted for professor, transportation needed.

“I haven’t thrown up since middle school,” Nesta says pathetically. She frowns as he hands her his bottle of water. Her nose and cheeks are red and for some reason he thinks of Rudolph, lighting the way for Santa through the storm.

He feels bad for little Rudolph...

“Now will you let me take you home,” Cassian sighs. He hopes it doesn’t sound like an ‘I told you so’ but she should really be lying down. He lays a hand to her forehead, but she brushes him off, moving towards the bathrooms.

“I’ll wait right here,” he says, but Nesta moves ahead as if she doesn’t hear him at all. Cassian can’t find it in himself to mind. A sick Nesta is guaranteed to be a stubborn Nesta, he just knows.

When she gets out, she looks surprised to see him and that’s another look that just proves how sick she must be. It’s a fairly obvious prediction that he’s going to wait next to the girl's bathroom, counting ceiling tiles. It’s a perfectly ‘Cassian with Nesta’ thing to do.

“You’re skipping class?”

Nesta coughs again, and she looks perfectly pitiful as she blinks her tired eyes. Cassian can feel his lips frown, and he shifts her bag more securely on his shoulder if only to keep himself from reaching out for her. Already he can feel his hands bunch into fists because he wants to grab her own and squeeze it until she's reassured. He wants to hug her until she feels better.

But he can’t.

Cassian lists every action he wants to do. Kiss her forehead where Nesta rubs her hand, because she must have a headache from how sick she is. Put on her favorite movie, so she can fall asleep to its sound. Run to every store, raiding every Walgreens and CVS until he comes back with a pharmacy.

What might she allow now that she’s sick? Will she let him fuss like he wants to?

But Nesta rolls her eyes in that haughty way of hers. “You can’t do that.”

“I can’t do what?” Cassian asks and he wonders if she can read his thoughts. If she studies him so well, reads him like one of her textbooks, memorizing facts and facial features.

“You can’t skip class,” she argues. “Why am I tutoring you if you’re going to skip class?”

At the words, all Cassian wants to do is sigh. She’s thinking about attendance at a time like this...

“Nesta, there is no class more important than you.”

Her brows crinkle at the center like she’s going to start arguing, but Cassian allows himself one touch. He places his thumb there, between her brows, smoothing out the lines. Nesta rips away, blinking up dazed and all too confused. Cassian would laugh at the look, if he didn’t need the distraction.

He juts his head to the elevator quickly. “Let’s go. We can walk slow, so don’t overexert yourself.”

Nesta scrunches up her nose, so cute and red, but she follows him anyway albeit a little petulantly. She holds her hand out for her bag, but Cassian turns toward the doors, pretending not to see.

“How does me being sick make you bossy?”

Cassian doesn’t dare to respond. He doesn’t know whether he’ll admit that he wants to take care of her, that’s he’s so worried a knot twists in his stomach, or if he’ll make some joke, he knows will make her mad. Maybe that’s the better option, he thinks. He can handle a mad Nesta. He likes a mad Nesta, but a Nesta who so easily rejects him?

Cassian doesn’t know about that.

“You don’t have any classes left this week, right?”

Nesta coughs into her sleeve before answering. Though she means to sound queenly, she only sounds sick, “you know where I live, and you also know my class schedule... seems suspicious if you ask me.”

“I’ve known you for two years.”

“And murder victims are three times more likely to be killed by someone they know."

Cassian huffs out a laugh, shaking his head, “Do you still go to sleep watching SVU? Or have you switched to Lifetime movies where the babysitters always try to kill the wife?”

“People should be wary about the people they know,” Nesta shrugs as if that’s answer enough.

Cassian snorts, “well you don’t have to be wary of me.”

As the elevator doors open, Cassian gestures for her to go first and Nesta does, but not before crossing her arms.

“That’s just what a murderer would want me to think.” She squints as if dissecting him, limb by limb. “You kill me, and I’ll haunt you. You won’t be able to sleep at night without thinking of me.”

Too late, Cassian thinks.

It’s much too late for that.

Rudolph has the patience of a five-year-old when she’s sick. Cassian learns this fairly quickly when he runs inside a Walgreens on their way to Nesta’s apartment.

There’s a bench that she can sit on, where she can wait if she feels tired, but no. Nesta decides she needs to run errands. She has an entire basket filled by the time he finds her again. She’s by the greeting cards, holding three open at a time. Cassian huffs with a receipt and medicine in hand.

“Here,” he says, giving her the cough medicine. “Take some of this.”

Nesta doesn’t even bother with pouring. He watches as she rips the cap away, taking a swig right out of the bottle, gulping it down.

“That’s way more than the suggested amount,” he cries, “you can get drunk on this stuff!”

“Good, maybe I’ll forget this day ever happened.”

Cassian sighs... it seems all he does is sigh when she’s like this. A sick Nesta is a petulant, irritated Nesta with a permanent furrow between her brows.

“I know you feel sick,” he tries to placate, “but I bet you’d feel a whole lot better if we get you home as soon as we can... so you can lie down and sleep.”

Nesta only picks up another Halloween card. She ignores his suggestion, laughing under her breath as she reads whatever inane joke is written there. Soon, she’s coughing though, and Cassian reaches for the basket just to stop himself from rubbing a hand down her back, combing his fingers through her hair.

Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn, his thoughts scream.

Cassian looks to the contents to distract himself from her watery eyes, and that’s when he notices what she’s grabbed. It seems that while he was in the cold and flu aisle, Nesta was raiding the snacks.

“What is this?” He gestures to the basket. Two boxes of cereal. Caramel corn. Baked Lay’s and cans of Arizona tea. Cassian takes one and holds it up. “Really Nesta?”

“What it’s green tea!” she argues, shoving another card back in its slot.

“This is all... junk,” he tries to explain, but Nesta’s already glowering.

“Look I don’t question your decisions. You don’t question mine.”

Cassian gives her a bland look. “You question my decisions all the time. Before we came in here, you literally said ‘why are we going in here, Cassian? Weren’t you supposed to take me home.’ You said that.”

Nesta simply raises her chin, pulling out another card. “I recall no such thing.”

“Fine,” Cassian grumbles, “if you want to eat yourself to an early grave and ignore everything that could potentially make you feel better than that’s just fine with me.”

“Good,” she says, putting back the other cards. Nesta settles for a pop-up that sings Monster Mash when she opens it. She sets it in the basket he holds, walking ahead without even looking back. “I’m ready to check out.”

“Really?” Cassian jokes, mockingly. “Are you sure you raided the candy aisle?”

Nesta stops in her tracks, peering through the section with printer ink and paper as if she can see the other side. He swears he’d facepalm if he wasn’t carrying all this stuff.

“You’re right,” she says, nodding.

“Wait!” Cassian calls. “Where are you going? Nesta!”

Too late. He can already hear crunching bags.

The variety packs.

Cassian sighs, lugging their things to the aisle next door.

“Can I use these vegetables?” Cassian asks, as Nesta shoves open the door to her room. He’s surprised she’s not still by the freezer. When they first get back to her place, she sticks her head in there and he wonders if he should suggest taking her temperature, or if she’s doing it just to show him she’s annoyed.

Perhaps her ears bleed from the sound of his voice.

That seems like something Nesta would say.

“They’re Emerie’s. Why?”

“To make soup,” Cassian explains, rifling through the contents. There’s zucchini and summer squash. Onion, fresh parsley and carrots. Cabbage and lettuce. Fresh fruit. He can make a nice stew out of this.

Nesta scoffs, “I don’t need soup.”

She enters her room, shoving the door back behind her until it leaves only a crack.

“You can leave now,” she yells. “I’m home like you wanted.”

“Are you lying down?” He asks, crossing his arms sternly though she can’t see him.

Nesta sighs loudly, “you’re annoying!”

“Maybe if you got some rest, I’d be less annoying,” Cassian sings brightly.

He can hear the soft sound of her voice. “Doubt.”

Cassian shakes his head with a smirk. He opens his snapchat where The Rat Pack is the first on the list, but the group name has changed... to People I Tolerate.

That’s got to be Nesta.

Cassian laughs under his breath and types. Can I use your vegetables? Making Nesta soup.

Emerie’s bitmoji pops up at the bottom, but the person who texts back first is not Emerie, but Gwyn.

You’re at our house?

Cassian can almost hear her voice. Stern and cautious. He’s almost certain she doesn’t like him. Gwyn looks at him with even more disdain than Nesta when he's around. That stay away from my friend look.

He sighs. Yes, Nesta’s sick.

Gwyn’s quick to respond. I can come home early. I need to drop off a paper, but I can be there in 30.

Cassian rolls his eyes and types, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of her.

Nesta’s face pops up. I can take care of myself.

“No, you can’t!” Cassian yells.

“Yes, I can!” Nesta yells back, but then she starts coughing again and he can hear her groan in the other room. Cassian raises a brow at her door.

I’m going to make soup. I’ll make enough for all of you, but can I use stuff from the fridge? I’ll replace it all.

Emerie’s face pops up and then disappears quickly. He’s about ready to go to the store himself or at least next door to the House, but Emerie’s text appears.

I have no objections to this.

Cassian smiles in relief, and he’s about to set down his phone when another notification appears. It’s Emerie again.

And if you make good soup, you can stay indefinitely.

Cassian sends a winking emoji. Nesta sends back the emoji with the straight mouth and eyes. Before he can frown at what that means, Cassian sees that the group name has changed... to Three’s Company.

That’s got to be Gwyn.

Stone cold, Emerie texts back.

Cassian decides he’s going to ignore that for the moment and focus on the objective at hand.

Soup.

Cassian pulls out the vegetables and looks through the cupboards. Emerie, it seems, has all the good spices. He finds the broth packets stored in the back, and he pulls out some beef from the freezer. It’ll need to defrost but he can start the broth now, get the vegetables soft, and brown the beef later. It’ll take a couple of hours anyway.

Occasionally, he hears a cough as he works. Then a sweet laugh... followed by a cough and a groan. Cassian feels bad for her he does, but he can’t help but find the whole situation amusing. She should be resting and yet she seems to be wide awake.

Nesta doesn’t come out of her room though. It’s as if he’s not even there, and he takes that time to look over her shared apartment. There are three doors, each with a letter at the front. The N is blue, the E, green, and the G, pink. He doesn’t know how it’s possible to have a living room that looks like all three, but somehow it works. It’s studious and bright. Colorful, but subdued. There are way too many throw pillows and books scattered everywhere, but there’s also a TV with a fireplace under it. He can just imagine Nesta laughing at scary movies. Some slasher fic she’ll watch like she’s taking notes.

He can imagine Nesta everywhere, in fact.

This is where she eats. Where she sits. Where she studies. This is where she trips over shoes if they’re not neatly lined up and where she complains about dirty dishes. This is where she cooks... if she does cook. Cassian doesn’t know.

Maybe he’ll get to find out one day.

Once the water starts boiling and the meat is in the microwave to defrost, Cassian goes to check how Rudolph is doing.

He knocks on her door lightly, pushing it open. “Nesta?”

Cassian’s never seen her room before, say for when she sits by the window with her curtains wide open, and just like then, it seems like an invasion of privacy to do so now. But Nesta’s plopped on top of her bed, tucked beneath her blue comforter, and she sets down her phone when he appears at the door.

Her whole room is filled with blues and creams, and it looks exactly what he imagines Nesta’s room to look like. The large calendar, an agenda on the desk, bookshelf after bookshelf lining her walls. There are also things he doesn’t know of her yet. Pictures and posters and a.... stuffed lobster? Cassian holds it up.

“Would you stop looking around?” Nesta groans. She has her arm resting over her eyes, and he wonders if it’s because she doesn’t want to see him looking or if she feels that bad that the light is bothering her.

She should be getting some rest, he thinks.

“Where did you get a stuffed lobster?”

Nesta coughs out her response.

The sound makes Cassian grimace, his chest ache with need, but he doesn’t rush over like he wants to. This is her house, her room... and this is Nesta who doesn’t like to be coddled by anyone.

“It’s a heat pack,” she says at last, after she catches her breath.

“A heat pack?” Cassian looks to the soft red claws that dangle. He’s never seen anything so soft be a heat pack.

“For cramps,” she says as if it’s obvious. Nesta must take his silence to mean ignorance for she lifts onto her elbows, raising a judgmental brow. “Please tell me you know what periods are or am I am going to have to go back to teaching you biology?”

“No,” Cassian draws out, “I know what periods are.”

Nesta mumbles a thank god and Cassian watches as she shifts under the covers, pulling them up until they hover just beneath her mouth.

“Are you cold?” Cassian asks, looking around her room. He spots his burgundy hoodie neatly folded and nearly yanks it from her desk. “Here. Wear my sweatshirt.”

“I just washed it,” Nesta whines, “I was going to give it back to you.”

Cassian’s confused by the words, but he merely gestures for her to budge up. He’s thankful when she doesn’t argue. He rolls the sweatshirt over her head and Nesta fits her arms through the sleeves.

“You didn’t have to wash it,” he says, watching as she pats down her hair. If only he could pull it up for her, comb his fingers through it. She could use his scrunchie too, if she wanted.

Nesta rolls her eyes, and he can only imagine what she thinks. He can practically hear the words. Of course, you wouldn’t care about clean clothes.

Her expressions practically give her away--everything she feels and thinks. Cassian wonders if he knows how open she is to the rest of the world. He wonders if she’d hate him if he told her this.

“It was going to smell like me,” she frowns.

Cassian wants to huff out a laugh. That is perfectly fine by him.

“Stop laughing,” she whines, “I’m being serious.”

“Yes, you’re being very serious.” He can’t help his smirk as he gazes up at her. He doesn’t even realize he’s on her bed, sitting to the side of her all bunched up in red. Her nose to the fabric. He almost wants to say she looks cute in his hoodie, all sick like that, but he knows she’ll only bite at him, remarking about how he has some weird fetish for sick girls.

Cassian holds back a laugh as he hears the microwave ding. He needs to turn the meat around, so it doesn’t cook through, but Nesta grips his arm. His head whips towards her and... Nesta’s gazing up at him. Her eyes are a soft blue. Just like her room.

“You’re warm,” she says. To explain herself, he thinks, and why she holds him as if she doesn't want him to move.

Cassian’s lips raise lightly, and he places the back of his hand on her forehead. “You must be worse than you’re letting on if you're okay with me being in your bed.”

Nesta scoffs, “you’re on it. Not in it. I’ll make that distinction very clear.”

“You can’t be that sick then,” Cassian shrugs, smiling. “If you’re making everything sound like a tutoring session.”

Her cheeks flush a bright pink and Cassian thinks she must have a fever. He wonders if he should search for an ice pack or make one, so she doesn’t get too hot.

“Are you tired?” He asks, noting how slowly she blinks. “You did drink a lot of cough syrup.”

“I also took a NyQuil,” she says, closing her eyes.

Cassian huffs, “remind me to teach you how read warning labels when your fully coherent.”

He can hear the microwave ding again, and it reminds him of an alarm. Wake up! It seems to say. Being in Nesta’s room does feels like falling asleep. Rather dream-like and hazy. The microwave dings incessantly, but Cassian doesn’t want to wake up just yet.

Her hand is still on his arm. It’s so much smaller than his and he wants to trace the skin there and see if it’s as soft as it looks. Cassian doesn’t dare look at her, in case she doesn’t just bang together two loud cymbals and tell him to get up and out and away.

Cassian looks ahead instead, fixing his gaze on the stuffed lobster on her desk.

“Nesta,” he starts and then swallows. He feels nervous, his hands clammy. “Nesta, I really think you and I... we’d be good together.”

Cassian takes a breath, and he stares at the lobster as if it’s her face. “We’ve known each other for a long time now and I... I haven’t hid how I feel about you.” His heart is beating way too fast, and he doesn’t feel any freer from speaking the words, but Cassian decides it’s time to rip the Band-Aid off. “I thought maybe... we could try it out. See if you might be comfortable with it. If you might like me... too?”

He doesn’t know why he words that like a question, but Nesta doesn’t say a word. Cassian looks back, hoping there’s no disgust in baby blue. He doesn’t know what he’d do if she just outright says he’s trash and she’ll never like him.

But Nesta’s fast asleep.

Cassian doesn’t bother sighing as he grips her limp hand, setting it on the blanket. He doesn’t bother being disappointed when he tucks the comforter around her. Her cheeks are a lobster-red and he rubs a thumb lightly there, wondering what it would be like to hold her face in his palm and kiss at her nose. Would she complain as he pecked her lips? You’ll get sick Cassian.

Then we can stay in bed together, Nesta.

No. Cassian’s not disappointed at all.

He’ll tuck away his dreams where tomorrow lives.

Today, he’ll stick to what he’s good at, so Cassian heads to the kitchen to make soup.

~ ~

Mwahahahaahah

In case you missed, here’s the stuffed lobster in the flesh.

Tagged:

@arinbelle @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @nestaarcher0n @duskandstarlight @soitsgorgeous @swankii-art-teacher @lordof-bloodshed @thewhelk @daisy-in-danger @highqueenevankhell @lovelynesta @sirendeepity @champanheandluxxury @ladynestaarcheron @moodymelanist @teagoddess99 @spoilersteph @angelic-voice-1997 @bo0kmaster69 @drielecarla @generalnesta @cozycomfyliving08 @confusedfandomslut @dread3r @sv0430

"Why am I still writing this fic?" I say angrily, as I angrily type it in my angry word document.

#nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #nessian fanfiction #vidalinav writes #Stu(died)

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