#this one was another hard one to choose…

[prythianpages]

'Cause It Was Always You | Azriel x Reader

summary: After eavesdropping on multiple conversations, Azriel finally gathers the courage to confess his feelings to you, thinking he's on the verge of losing you.

word count: 1,741

warnings: I guess angst at the beginning? But I promise it ends with fluff!

a/n: Billie Eilish's Birds of a Feather has been on repeat in my head and it prompted this cute little idea. Also shoutout to @nocasdatsgay for helping me with a codename for Az.

“I fear I’ll love Lapis until the day that I die…until the light leaves my eyes…until I’m in the grave, rotting awa–”

“y/n, you’re drunk,” Feyre had giggled.

“Drunk in love,” you sang in response with a giggle of your own.

And when one of Azriel’s shadows reported the silly little smile on your face, the silly little sparkle in your eyes, he shrunk back into the ones that had remained. His heart sank to his stomach, a cold, heavy weight settling there. 

Because you were in love. 

With someone that wasn’t him.

Azriel told himself that was the last time he’d eavesdrop. And perhaps, that wouldn’t have been a lie, if it wasn’t for the pesky little shadow that followed you around. It enjoyed dancing and flitting around you. Sometimes, it’d make its presence known by weaving through your hair or slithering up your arm. Most times, it’d trail behind you, like a little duckling.

Azriel tried to call the shadow back home but it was unwavering, choosing to linger in your presence instead. The same way he wished to linger by your side. And recently, the inky traitor had gotten into the habit of summoning more of his shadows to your side, weaving an invisible bond between you and him.

Every time a shadow returned to him, it brought whispers of your laughter, the sparkle in your eyes, and the softness in your voice when you spoke of Lapis. Each word you uttered about that male tore him apart, every confession cutting deeper than any blade ever could.

“If you don’t ask Lapis out, Jasper will do it for you and believe me when I say you do not want that to happen.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll ask him out. Tomorrow.”

That was a snippet of a conversation his shadows had reported to him earlier, cutting his morning training short. It lingered with him, haunting him throughout the day. And now, he found himself unable to sleep, constantly turning in his bed.

Azriel’s stomach twists into a tight knot, the storm raging outside echoing his inner turmoil. Tomorrow. He was running out of time.  Fear and perhaps, even pride, kept him from telling you how he truly felt about you. But now, he found himself fearing something even worse. Losing you before he even had a chance to say it…

He didn’t want to wake up one day and regret his silence, regret not telling you how he felt because of pride or fear. He needed to do this for himself, to break free from the shadows of his past. He had failed to confess his love twice before, and the thought of a third failure was unbearable. This time, he couldn’t let fear hold him back. The risk of losing you to someone else was a pain he couldn't endure.

With a deep breath, Azriel steeled himself. He needed to find you, to tell you the truth about his feelings. Before anything between you and Lapis could blossom. He couldn’t let another moment pass without you knowing how deeply he loved you.

Which is how he found himself at your doorstep, in the middle of the night, clothes sticking to him like a second skin as the rain pours relentlessly down on him. His shadows stir in excitement, whispering anxiously as they hear your approaching footsteps. His heart is pounding, so fast and hard that he fears it’s going to explode.

“Azriel?” 

Your voice is still marred by sleep as you blink up at him. That traitorous shadow hovers behind you, peering at him over your shoulder. He glares at it, and it quickly hides behind your hair. You don’t seem to notice it, either unfazed or truly oblivious to the shadow that had been following you around for so long.

“Did something happen?” You speak again, brows furrowing in concern. You step back into your apartment, a silent gesture for him to follow after you and come inside. 

“I–” Azriel begins but he can’t bring himself to finish his sentence. He can’t even bring himself to move as his eyes catch the movement of your arms wrapping around yourself to ward off the chill of the downpour. The nightgown you’re wearing is thin and short. A  glimpse of your exposed skin has a warmth rushing to his face and he’s blushing.

"I—" He tries again but when his eyes meet yours, his heart leaps into his throat, choking off his words. Oh gods, he can’t do this. He’s grateful for the rain as it masks the tears beginning to sting at his eyes. He thinks he’s going to be sick and–

“Are you okay?”

His shadows push him forward, wings shuddering in response. It’s now or never. He can do this. He takes a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I love you.” 

The words spill out in a rush, raw and unguarded. He watches you with bated breath, his shadows whispering every nuance in your expression—from the way your eyebrows raise and your mouth parts as a gasp escapes, to the way your eyes glisten with something he’s too scared to discern.

You’re rendered speechless, the silence that follows feeling like an eternity. Azriel’s wings slump, growing heavy. He clears his throat, averting his gaze. The need to retreat is overpowering what little courage he had gathered moments ago. 

“That’s all I had to say. I should, um–I’ll be leaving now,” he stammers, so unsure and so unlike himself.

“Az–” you start, reaching out to him, but he’s already stepping back into the rain. He doesn’t think he can face your rejection, much less witness the look on your face if you don’t feel the same.

“Goodnight.”

His shadows are like a wall of resistance, fighting against him as he turns to make his leave. He asks them—begs them, even– to swallow him whole. To winnow him away and save him from further mortification. But they refuse. Stay, they insist, tugging and weighing his wings down. 

It leaves him with no choice but to walk away. Every step feels heavier than the last, the rain soaking him to the bone. Listen, his shadows urge as they continue to tug relentlessly at his wings for him to turn back around and face you. 

But he can’t. Not when the Mother has seemed to have cursed him with loving those who could never love him back.

“Azriel!”

His mind screams at him to keep going, to keep walking away. However, the plea echoed in your voice has his chest tightening. His heart overrides his mind, shadows only encouraging him further. He turns around just in time to catch you as you leap into his arms.

Your legs wrap around his waist, arms encircling his neck in a desperate effort to keep him from leaving. His own arms respond immediately, securing you to him. 

“Don’t go.”

Your breath is warm against his neck as you tighten your embrace, and his wings curl around your smaller form in response, wanting to shield you from the relentless rain. He feels you shift in his arms, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes. One hand reaches out, tenderly brushing the dark fringe from his forehead. His breath catches, and you must sense his inner turmoil because you gently smooth away the furrow of his brow with your thumb.

“I love you,” you say, your hand caressing his cheek. Despite the cold, harsh downpour, your touch is warm and soft. A balm to his frayed nerves.

His heart swells with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy. He had prepared himself for rejection, for the familiar sting of unrequited love. But here you were, confessing your love to him with the same vulnerability he had shown you.

“Really?” he whispers, voice thick with emotion, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“Really.”

“I thought I was going to lose you,” he murmurs, his voice trembling with relief. “I thought I’d never have the chance to tell you.”

“Lose me? Azriel, you’ve always had me.”

“But you said you loved Lapis? You were going to ask him out–”

“So you were spying on me!”

Azriel’s eyes widen, cheeks flushing all over again and he’s glad it’s dark enough to conceal it. “No–I–not intentionally…my shadows, they…,” he trails off, realizing how ridiculous he must sound.

Yes, his shadow refused to come back to him. But he didn’t stop the others from reporting back to him so with a defeated sigh, he says, “I’m sorry.”

“Azriel,” you giggle and he’s frowning at you, not finding the humor in the situation. “You are Lapis.”

“What?”

“You’re Lapis. Cas is Jasper and Rhys is Amethyst.” You explain, lips curling into an amused smile at the sigh of relief that comes from Azriel. How had he not realized that all those names shared one thing in common? And more importantly, that they were color coded to his and Cassian’s siphons?

“I needed a codename for you so I can gush about my feelings for you without, you know,” you tilt your head toward that nosey, barely visible shadow that had been following you around. Sensing the attention, the shadow dips and hides again, curling around the back of your neck. 

“I fear it’s yours now,” Azriel replies, almost sheepishly.

“Good,” you smile at him. “I’ve grown rather fond of it. Just as I have over its master.”

His shadows take your words as a welcome invitation, swirling and dancing around you both. Azriel’s arms hook underneath your thighs, pulling you even closer to him. Your arms find their place around his neck again.

Then, you're closing the small distance between you and kissing him. Warmth spreads throughout him, reveling in the sweet sensation of your lips against his. The rain continues to pour, but neither of you care. 

When you finally pull away, he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes remaining closed as if in fear that this is all just a dream. You gently kiss his nose, your soft voice reminding him that this moment is real.

“I love you.”

Azriel’s eyes open, looking right into yours. “Until the day that I die,” he tells you, echoing your devotion.

There’s a knowing spark in your eyes as they search his own for answers. It has his lips lifting into a smile that mirrors yours, confirming that he had been eavesdropping on your drunken confession weeks ago.  Your smile widens. 

 “Until the light leaves my eyes.”

This was a better idea in my head but hey, at least I finished it. I also don't know the logistics of having a conversation in the rain but that's the beauty of fanfic, I guess?lol Anyway, I could not get these lyrics out of my head. They were so Azriel coded for me:

I'll love you 'til the day that I die 'Til the day that I die 'Til the light leaves my eyes 'Til the day that I die I want you to see, hm How you look to me, hm You wouldn't believe if I told ya You would keep the compliments I throw ya

the way I keep fixing these lyrics but I think tumblr is glitching or something uggghh, pls ignore the random mismatched sizing

Also just wanted to point out that if Az hasn’t confessed, reader would’ve done it the next day anyway 💀

general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel imagine #azriel fluff

[heartfullofleeches]

[suggestive]

Brie accidently summoning a lust demon/horny ghost reader while role-playing during one of his 🌽 live streams- Brie's nothing if not dedicated to his roles. A cute face is what draws viewers in, but his acting is what grew his fanbase overnight. He already had some red candles left over from a past stream so it wouldn't hurt to decorate for another. It's so hard to pick the right outfit for the job- An innocent nun guided by lust into summoning the only salvation for his struggles. A mournful bride longing for his partner's touch just one more time. Whatever he chooses catching the eye of the lonesome spirit or devil attached to his apartment. Brie starts off the stream looking to please his audience and ends it married to some supernatural entity that can make love to him in view of all his followers as their physical form doesn't appear on cameras-

-

[Brie lays in a crumbled heap on his bed, covered from face to thigh in hickies as ghost reader hovers over them - drapping the tattered sleeve of his wedding dress over his shoulder. He's genuinely surprised they're still here]

Brie: O-oh....You're staying? Not that I mind or anything.... Actually, I'm really glad you are. I've felt so lonely lately... Even with all my viewers..I hope you meant everything about us being married. The afterlife doesn't seem so bad when I have you waiting for me someday....

Ghost Reader: ....<3

#Brie my oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere #yandere oc #male yandere #suggestive

[swordsandholly]

Across the Way

Chapter 4: New and Old Problems Alike

Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Fat!Reader

Ao3 | Previous - Next | Masterlist

MDNI | cw: fainting, some medical inaccuracies

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

You haven’t texted them, even three days later. That little sticky note haunts the surface of your kitchen counter. It taunts you - tells you that you should text them and at least give them your number. That you’re being a terrible neighbor. They might need you too, after all. Even though you can’t figure out why they might for the life of you. On the other hand, you can’t help but feel wary about it. Men don’t take an interest in you - people in general rarely take interest. It’s hard not to feel suspicious, as pure as you’re sure their intentions probably are.

More so than any of that, you don’t know what to say. If it had been day one you could have just put your name, but now you feel like you need to explain. Or at least be funny or something. Tossing and turning on your designated rest day about what the hell you should do.

You’re overthinking it. You know that. You can’t stop, either.

They just seem so cool - so put together. So unlike you. You want to impress them. You don’t want to ruin the first possibility of friends in this new life you’re building for yourself.

Eventually you work up the courage to send off an initial text to each of them. Just to give them your name to save if they so choose - plus an extra thank you to Simon for giving you their numbers in the first place. Something simple and borderline cold. Too cold, maybe? Maybe you sound irritated. You hope not. You just want them to like you. Friends in new places are hard and to have someone around you who gets how it feels to need accommodations would just feel so… lovely. Your phone may or may not go flying onto your bed while you bury your face in your hands out of sheer nervousness.

You don’t expect it to chime about a minute later. Right as you’re staring to calm down, of course. It sends your heart violently pounding all over again.

J >> Bonnie lass!

J >> So glad u texted!!

>> Sorry it took so long lol

Oh, you could just slap yourself. You don’t have anything better than that? At all? Christ.

J >> Nah Nah

J >> No worries

J >> Actually I was wondering if u would mind if I came by tomorrow

J >> Just to chat

J >> need an excuse to get out of the house

“How the hell does he type that fast?” You scoff to yourself.

>> Yeah, come by anytime.

>> totally

>> yea sounds cool

>> rad, man

A message from Simon pops up mid your internal battle with how to respond, replying with a simple thumbs up. Very in character, you think. He knows how to be nonchalant. What would Simon say? Something casual, maybe a little formal.

>> If you like. You’re always welcome.

Okay maybe that was too much like Simon. You sigh heavily m before adding,

>> I’m trying out a new blueberry loaf

>> If you want to test for me :)

Better. That’s a little better. With another heavy sigh you decide to drop your phone into your nightstand for the rest of the day. Your heart really cannot handle this much emotional pressure.

~~~

You sort of end up just forgetting about the texts. With your phone out of sight and out of mind upstairs in your apartment it almost catches you off guard when Johnny comes striding through the door just before close. He’s dressed more casually than the last couple of times you saw him - having broken out the summer shorts and a graphic tee for some band you don’t recognize. It suits him, though.

“Hey, bon.” He grins.

“Hey.” You smile back, finishing with putting up your stocking baskets before dusting off your hands and turning around. “Simon closing up?”

“Aye.”

You hum. “Come on back, I’ll get you a slice of that loaf I mentioned.”

Johnny follows you quietly. Uncharacteristically quietly. That’s okay - you don’t have a problem with hanging out in silence. It doesn’t feel tense, surprisingly enough. He leaves Riley out front again. Should you get her a dog bed? Maybe if he comes by consistently. That would be nice. Maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“It’s sort of a pound cake but fluffier. I might make an icing for it but I don’t know if that would be too sweet…” You trail off, focusing on plating up the piece. You’re not sure what compels you to try and make it pretty for him. Probably something you could blame on your grandmother. She did have an obsession with presentation.

Johnny hums loudly after taking a bite, talking around the mouthful. “Y’should totally make an icing.” He swallows roughly. “Si would go crazy fer this.”

“Oh?” You smile. “I’ll send some home with you.”

There’s a lapse of silence while Johnny chews on his slice of bread and you pack up some in a paper bag for him to take home. The only sounds in the room comprised of your cutting and folding and the hum of the cooling oven.

“You’re being weirdly quiet.” You blurt, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. “I, uh, I mean that isn’t a bad thing! I don’t mind… I just, uh, was… sorry, never mind…”

“Well I did come wit’ a bit of an ulterior motive…” Johnny admits, glancing off to the side shyly. It’s a show, you think. Johnny doesn’t seem the type of man to have felt shy a day in his life.

You tilt your head. “Oh?”

He dusts off his hands and grins. “Let us take ye out! In celebration of yer first full month.”

Has it been a month already? “Oh - no, no you don’t have to-“

“C’mon! It’s a big accomplishment.” His smile is so bright that you almost believe his idea that you’ve done something great.

“…alright.” You give a tentative smile. It’s hard to believe they like you enough to want to hang out casually in the evening. Hard to imagine anyone liking you that much but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“There’s a pub down the street - the one on the corner. Want tae meet us there around six?” Johnny gives you that lovely smile. How could you ever say no to a smile like that?

“Okay.”

You spend far too long changing in and out of clothes and fussing with your hair. Up-do’s and buns and braids. A tank top then a sweater then a t-shirt. There’s no reason to feel this stressed over it. It’s not a date or anything. Besides, it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Either way you look like a frumpy dumpling. Eventually you land on jeans and one of your designated ‘going out tops.’ At least it’s a good excuse to wear something other than work clothes or loungewear.

Excitement and anxiety thrum under your skin like electricity as you make your way down the street. You feel painfully nauseous - stopping once or twice just to make sure you aren’t about to throw up for real.

The pub is surprisingly quiet when you enter. Obviously somewhere only real locals hang out - there’s no theme or really any decor in general. Just a bar, some booths and a couple pool tables. You scan the floor a few times, not seeing either Johnny or Simon (not that they would be hard to miss). Eventually you just grab a soda from the bar and slide into one of the booths closer to the back. A quiet spot facing the door where you can easily watch for them.

As time ticks on you begin to grow increasingly nervous. Did you get the time wrong? No, no you triple checked. You even wrote it down in your planner. Your leg begins to bounce furiously, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Did they decide to ditch? You wouldn’t really blame them. They’re way out of your league when it comes to friends. Maybe Johnny had an emergency? Should you call Simon? If he had an emergency it would make sense that they would forget to notice you. What if something really bad happened? What if-

The front door opens and Simon’s wide frame strides through, holding the door for Johnny and Riley to come in behind him. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, willing your leg to stop bouncing with a pinch to your thigh. Why are you always so damn dramatic?

Johnny lights up with an ear to ear grin when he spots you, bee-lining for the booth while Simon casually walks up to the bar. It’s almost comedic, the way he dwarfs the counter. Johnny leans on the side of the booth, waiting for Simon, you think.

“Glad ye could come out.” He looks you over, eyes flicking from your plain top to the very practical, not at all stylish up do that you landed on for the evening.

You do your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Me too…”

Simon comes back with two beers in hand and slides them onto the table. He scoots into the inner booth to give Johnny the outer edge. Riley happily sits beside his leg and practically grins at you in a near mirror image of Johnny’s. You’d never do it while she’s on the job, of course, but part of you wants to give her a pat on the head and coo at her for being so polite.

Johnny gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry we were a bit late-”

“Johnny redid his hair about five times.” Simon butts in, not reacting at all to Johnny’s sputtering protest. He glances at your half-drunk soda. “Want me t’ grab you a beer?”

“Oh, no, I’ll just stick to coke.”

They blink at you. Simon cocks his head slightly. “You sure?”

You chew your lip. “Uh, alcohol tends to aggravate my symptoms is all...”

“Then why’d ye agree to drinks? We coulda gone somewhere else.” Johnny frowns.

You shrug. “I don’t mind. I… maybe this is over sharing but I’d rather go out and be kind of normal than just… not ever. Y’know?”

His expression softens. For having such icy blue eyes they are so, so warm. “I get it.”

“How’d you two meet anyway?” You blurt, taking a left turn to get the conversation off of you. It’s the first question that comes to mind. Maybe it’s rude - maybe you’re prying too much already.

“Military.” Simon grunts. “SAS.”

“Si retired wit’ me after I was discharged.” Johnny points to his scar the same way he did when you first met. “Russians scrambled my egg a bit.”

“Couldn’t do the time apart…” Simon murmurs, eyes locked on Johnny’s face. It’s vulnerable. More than he’s used to - you can see it in the way he tenses after saying it.

Something passes between them that a deep, wounded part of you desperately wishes to understand.

You can’t help but start giggling to yourself. They both give you an incredulous look. “Sorry, sorry - it’s just, that’s like… totally a romance book premise. It’s sweet. Really.”

“Och, aye. Wouldn’t know it t’ look at him but Si’s a real romantic.” Johnny bats his eyes at the other man, who just rolls his in response. The corner of his scarred mouth quirks up subtly.

“SAS…” You repeat, staring at your drink. “That’s like Navy Seal shit, right?”

“We worked with them a few times, yes.” Simon nods. There’s an air of ‘do not ask anything more specific’ in his voice.

“Huh.” You take that for what it is and sit back, squinting at them. “You don’t look it, honestly.”

Johnny laughs. “Tha’s just cause ye havennae seen Simon with his gear on. The Ghost.” He wiggles his fingers along as he makes a stupid, spooky sound effect. “I domesticated him.”

Simon scoffs but doesn’t deny it, just takes a quiet sip of his beer.

“Riley’s a vet, too.” Johnny pats her head. “Got too skittish around loud noises but she transitioned into a service dog nicely.”

“Now she’s just spoiled.” Simon rolls his eyes in faux annoyance. You get the strong feeling that he’s the one doing the spoiling.

You find yourself relaxing as the night goes on. Slouching in your seat rather than sitting ramrod straight and nervously twiddling your thumbs. They never press you to drink, never insist that you’ll be fine with just one. They take your statement as fact and it isn’t brought up again. That shouldn’t be as significant as it is, now that you think about it.

Johnny’s words begin to slur a little bit on his fourth, no maybe fifth, beer. You aren’t sure. It’s very cute, the little blush that forms across his cheeks. Simon loosens up, too. He slings an arm around the back of the booth and Johnny readily tucks himself into the open spot. You find yourself wondering about their military career again. You can’t picture either of them committing violence - especially Simon. Sure, he’s big and gruff but he looks at Johnny so, so softly.

Simon is the one to call it a night - though you have a feeling its because you nodded off a couple times. Not out of boredom, you try really, really hard to pay attention to Johnny rambling about the chemistry of different explosives. He makes it interesting, somehow. Really it’s just that you’ve been awake for… holy shit almost twenty hours!

“D’you need a ride?” Simon asks as you exit the pub, hands firmly shoved into his pockets.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You don’t know how to interpret the look he’s giving you. It’s intense, but not annoyed or displeased. He has such a weird knack for unreadable but distinct expressions. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to get good at deciphering them.

You jump when Johnny takes both your hands in, kissing the backs of them with a sloppy, drunk smile. “Thank ye fer comin’ out. “

Somehow your face feels hotter than a damn oven. You tuck your hands to your chest, kicking shyly at the sidewalk. “Th-thanks for the invite. We, uh, we could do it again sometime?”

You glance up hopefully, praying that you didn’t misread the situation. You’ve done that before - thought people liked you more than they did. Johnny just grins wider somehow and nods excitedly.

You watch them walk off in the other direction, hand in hand. Johnny giggles about something loudly and you can see Simon’s shoulders shake with a far more silent laugh. All the way until they disappear down the street.

The sheer amount that the image hurts your heart makes you feel evil.

~~~

The pub changed something. What, you don’t know. Either way, you fall into an easy pattern with Johnny and Simon over the next couple weeks. Exchanges of food, leftovers or morsels about to turn, little visits back and forth between your shops. Johnny continues to stop by after close, just hanging around with you while Simon closes up shop.

You can’t deny how much you look forward to hearing that door chime followed by a too-loud greeting from Johnny. How your heart flips in your chest when those bright blue eyes peek around the corner into the back room or light up while trying a new recipes you’ve been testing. You’re still a bit awkward - unsure how to react when he throws an arm around your shoulders or listens oh so intently while you talk about nothing important.

Things can’t ever be all sunshine and rainbows, though. Not for you. A new problem has arisen as summer truly sets in - the comfortable spring breezes giving way to nothing but bright, unfiltered sun. One you didn’t expect to impact you this much living this far north.

Heat.

It’s hard to breathe in the back room while you’re baking. Hard to keep your water and salt intake high enough to compensate for how fast you lose them. You might as well get a permanent saline drip attached to you at this point. You definitely didn’t google if that was physically possible. Your budget for liquid IVs and other supplements nearly doubles. Standing over the massive oven in the back room has your head swimming a few times. You end up resting longer on your weekends, unable to keep up like you could in cooler weather.

It’s okay, you tell yourself, the summer here isn’t like back home. It will pass quicker. Plus, you at least have methods of dealing with it now other than crossing your fingers and praying.

“Bonnie!” Johnny suddenly appears in your doorway - that charming smile splitting his face from ear to ear. “Ye made it up Main Street yet?”

“No?” You tilt your head and try to ignore the way your vision spots momentarily at the motion. “Why?”

“Ye dinnae hear about the summer festival?” He leans on your counter. You shake your head. “It’s a yearly thing. Not that big a deal but they have some fun games an’ it’s nice tae see everyone out an’ about. Si an’ I are about tae head down. Come wit’?”

You hesitate. The exhaustion in your body tugs at your spine. Your limbs feel heavy. This morning really got to you - out of towners who must have come for the festival flooded your shop the moment it opened on top of your Saturday regulars. Not that you’re complaining, really. It’s easily your best day so far. You want to go with them, though, despite the ache in your back and the sting in your joints. It sounds so fun and it’s never a bad idea to take part in your new community’s festivities.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” You smile. You can tough it out for an hour, then come back home. Yeah, just an hour. You’ll be fine.

You hadn’t noticed Simon leaned up at the entrance to your shop. Your eyes lock on his arms. This is the first time you’ve actually seen him in short sleeves. You can’t help but stare at his half-sleeve tattoo - all skulls and bombs and other military motifs. Faded and sun worn. Yeah, if you’d seen that sooner you definitely would have picked up on the whole military thing. You bite your lip to keep from snickering about it.

You can hear the music drifting from the speakers down the street. A few kids run by with balloons and cheap carnival prizes. It almost reminds you of the Spring Fling back home, just missing the extreme American flag theming across every booth and vendor front. Now that you’re looking around, you can actually see several booths that have been sponsored by various businesses in the area. Even the post office has a snow cone stand. The deeper you get into the event, the more flamboyant the decor becomes. Multicolored streamers and pennet flags connect stands, creating an almost canopy effect.

Simon stops rather abruptly at a booth, waiting behind a few teenagers tossing rings onto bottles. You stop with Johnny about two feet away. What’s he thinking? Simon doesn’t seem like the type who would be too entertained by basic carnival games. Even so, he steps forward and passes over a couple bills to the vendor as soon as the teenagers leave.

“Si’s really good at these. Watch.” Johnny grins beside you.

“Aren’t they rigged?” You raise an eyebrow.

Johnny doesn’t answer, eyes locked on his husband as he lines up one of the rings. You have to lean slightly to see around the breadth of the man - the multicolor rings almost cartoonishly small in his hands. Cute. Your eyes get impossibly wide with each toss, every single one landing comfortably on the bottle necks as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. As if this isn’t one of the most commonly rigged carnival games.

“Holy shit…” You mutter, still staring.

“Aye, tha’s a SAS sniper for ye.” Johnny laughs. “Glad tae see it still comes in handy.”

Simon huffs out a quiet laugh at that. Almost more of a sigh if it weren’t for the shaking of his shoulders. You love it - their little dynamic. The bond between them that’s so strong it’s almost visible.

“‘ere.” Simon turns to you suddenly, holding out a cheap little carnival prize. You can’t even begin to decipher what it’s supposed to be - some sort of furry puff ball with big, embroidered anime eyes and two felt antennae sticking up out of it’s purple head… body… thing…

Your face heats. “F-, uh, me?”

He shrugs. “Suits you. Riley will just chew it up if we take it home.”

“Aye. She’s so good with everythin’ but cheap plushies.” Johnny snickers.

You glance down at the dog in question - her dark eyes glued to the toy in Simon’s hand. Her tail thumps against the ground where she sists dutifully, but you can see the desire to snatch the thing away in her twitchy ears and pleading eyes. You snort, taking the stupid thing and tucking it under your arm with the prayer that they don’t notice the heat now spreading from your cheeks to your ears.

“Thanks…” you murmur, already mentally deciding where to add it to the mess of stuffies covering your bed already.

Somehow you end up walking between them down the street - Simon on your left and Johnny on your right with Riley in tow. You stop at a few other games here and there. All pretty basic. Johnny absolutely kills at the dunk booth.

Simon tires his hardest to help you with your terrible aim, “Just visualize it. Y’have t’ account for the arc.”

You get to the point of sticking your tongue out in concentration. Even so you only manage to knock down a couple of the wooden ducks at the ‘Dunk-A-Duck’ stand. You do, however, win one of those rock candy sticks at the guessing booth. You just hand it off to Johnny. It’s probably not best to load up on sugar in your current state.

Johnny excitedly points to different buildings giving you a rundown of the history of his hometown as you walk. Simon seems to barely be listening. He’s probably heard this a thousand times. Prattling on about the old town square, the church bell that a bunch of teenagers spray painted one time (Johnny was not involved, how could you accuse him of that?)

You find yourself focusing on your feet - keeping each step even and fast enough to remain on pace with them. One, two, one, two, one, two. The air begins to thicken. Muggy and heavy on your skin. Your breaths become shallow and fast. You can’t catch it, the air seeming to get stuck in your throat rather than reaching your lungs. Spots begin to dance across your vision. You stumble over nothing.

Not now! Come on! You’ve been doing so well!

Riley presses against your leg acting as a counter weight. Your body moves on instinct to grab whatever you can - hands wrapping around something strong and covered with cloth. An arm solid as rebar. Hopefully it’s someone you know. All you can see are colorless shapes.

“Gonna pass out - don’t freak!” You gasp before your legs give out.

It’s not that you go entirely out - it’s rare that you fully black out. It’s more like being stuck. Limp and fuzzy and confused. Almost like sleep paralysis. There’s voices and people moving around you. Someone has picked you up, you think, based on the swaying motion and the passing shapes around you. Maybe that’s just vertigo. A door bell chimes.

You finally begin to really come to when something icy is pressed to your forehead. It couldn’t have been more than a handful of seconds that you were gone, but it takes much longer for the world around you to come back into focus.

“I’m sorry…” You murmur, eyes stinging. Even after all these years it’s so damn embarrassing. You blink, the distinct mural that decorates the ceiling of the post office slowly coming into view. Johnny said a big time traveling artist painted it back in the nineties.

“Ye alright?” Johnny murmurs, crouched down beside you. Riley sniffs at your hand, seeming satisfied when you finally move it on your own.

You nod slowly. “Overheated…”

“Give her this.” Someone says. An event medic, you think. The boys must have flagged them down. Fingers press to your pulse point, a light shines in your eyes and you follow it. A quick check of vitals. Johnny shoves a water bottle in your hand as soon as the medic decides you’re fine to move - the contents distinctly murky from some sort of electrolyte pack that’s been shaken into it.

“Up y’get. Slowly does it.” Simon helps you sit up with a hand on your back. It’s so gentle. You don’t miss how he cages in your body the way only someone intimately familiar with caretaking might. Fully ready to catch you if you go limp again.

You sip slow, eyes glued to the ground. You feel so fucking stupid. Can’t even walk down a street without creating some sort of scene. They’re never going to want to hang out with you again, are they? You can’t go out drinking, can’t walk around a festival for longer than a couple hours. You distracted Riley. What if something happened to Johnny while you were having your spell? She might not have alerted correctly because of you. She might have gotten confused and then he could have gotten hurt. He might have-

“Ye really should drink tha’ instead of glarin’ at it.” Johnny pulls you from your thoughts. He’s now sat with his legs crossed beside you. Riley’s head rests in his lap. She seems calm. Content now that the emergency is over and happily lying on a cool floor.

You hum, chugging the last bit of it quickly. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Simon says curtly. “Does this ‘appen often?”

You shrug. “Not as much anymore… usually my medication keeps me stable.”

“Do ye need a doctor?” Johnny tilts his head slightly. There’s no judgment in his tone - in either of their tones. Just calm concern. It probably shouldn’t make you want to cry as much as it does.

You shake your head. “I’ve got liquid IV at home. Just need to sleep it off.”

Hopefully. In reality, a pain flare up is inevitable now. You just won’t know how bad until you’re fully in it.

“Let’s get ye home.” Johnny says, knees popping as he stands.

“I-I’m fine!” You insist, mentally preparing to get yourself up off the floor. “I can get home on my own - I don’t want to ruin your time.”

Johnny levels his gaze onto you, so serious it almost looks angry. It doesn’t match his face. “We’re not leavin’ ye tae get home alone like this.”

You’re caught off guard when an arm slides under your back and another under knees - lifting you like you weigh half of what you do in reality. Like you’re a paperweight instead of a boulder. You blink up at Simon, far too surprised to be embarrassed. At least at first. You splutter out a poor attempt at convincing him to put you down. Excuse and reason after reason and excuse. They roll off him like water off a ducks back. Your face burns as he steps out of the post office with you neatly tucked against his chest - Johnny and Riley in tow.

If you allow yourself to be honest, to give into that weaker part of you (or, at least, the part you consider to be weak) you could possibly admit that this feels nice. Being cared for feels nice. Having your body up against someone else feels nice. It’s been a long time since anyone touched you outside of a polite handshake or accidental bump. You sink into it despite yourself - relaxing against Simon’s chest. They were right, you wouldn’t have made it back. Your head is too fuzzy and there’s that telltale pain in your shoulders radiating up to your neck that signifies an oncoming Bed Day.

It doesn’t take long with Simon’s lengthy strides to get back to your building. You probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up to that running. Well, you can’t really run much at all so you definitely wouldn’t. A stupid, muddled train of thought that melts into the hazy bog of your current mental state. Even Johnny trails a few feet behind. Neither of them speak, marching in determined silence. You attempt to subtly check their faces for any anger. You’d understand if they were angry. Most people would get angry. You interrupted their day out with your useless drama. All you get is a wide, bright grin from Johnny when your eyes eventually meet his.

Simon puts you down with all the care in the world. As if you’re made of fine china. His hand stays on your upper back - planted firmly between your shoulder blades and ready to catch you if need be. Your vision swims a bit, your joints feel like jelly but you manage to dig your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door.

“Here.” Johnny plops the puff ball back into your hands just as you turn to say goodbye. To say thank you - to apologize profusely.

Your brows raise. You completely forgot about it while swimming around in a sea of embarrassment - he must have picked it up for you. You hug it to your chest with a quiet, “Thanks.”

You shift your weight side to side, psyching yourself up for the crawl up the stairs. Probably literally. You don’t think you could stay upright if you tried to walk them like a regular day, or even with an aid. Like a regular or semi-regular person. Fuck.

Johnny follows your eyes up at the staircase. He must sense some hesitation in you. “Do ye need help up?”

You bite your lip, staring at the ground. Standing in one place seems alright, but the thought of climbing is so daunting, even with the cane you have stationed at the bottom of the steps for that exact purpose. It’s embarrassing. You’re young, you should be able to walk up some damn stairs. It isn’t even that many. It’s barely a full flight. Just one story of stairs for fuck’s sake.

“Hey.” Simon touches your cheek, the action snapping your eyes to his in surprise. “It’s okay. C’mere.”

He picks you up again in the same fashion with barely a grunt, taking his time up the steps so as not to jostle you. How many times has he done this with Johnny? you wonder. That’s the only explanation for how good he is at keeping your equilibrium so even. You wonder if he practiced - if he took caretaking classes. He probably did. Does he keep up at the gym just so he can take care of his husband? Simon might be quiet and a little formal, but he exudes dedication.

“Sorry it’s messy…” You murmur when they reach the top of the steps. Glancing behind you, you see Riley sitting patiently at the bottom. Johnny must have told her to stay. “Haven’t gotten to fully unpack…”

You’ve been spending too much time in bed on the weekends. Fucking lazy.

Johnny just laughs. “Ye shoulda seen the first place Simon an’ I had.”

“Wasn’t that bad.” Simon argues, carefully setting you down on the couch. His hands hold your waist to steady you. They’re so warm… It feels wrong to be disappointed when he lets go.

“We hadnae figured out a system yet.” Johnny huffs, hands on his hips. “We ended up hirin’ a specialized maid service the dishes got so backed up.”

You scoff, laying back against the couch with that stupid carnival prize still in your arms. Like it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. The tears that have been stinging your eyes this entire time continue to threaten to spill - a myriad of blinks and careful breaths the only thing keeping them back.

Johnny sits beside you slowly. You can’t meet his eyes. “Do… do ye want tae tell us what it is? Ye donnae have tae - it’s up tae ye. Just if somethin’ happens again…”

“We’d like to be prepared.” Simon jumps in where Johnny trails off.

You chew your lip, still staring up at the ceiling. It splits and that coppery taste coats your tongue for a moment. “I, uh, it’s called POTS. There’s different types but basically my body can’t regulate blood flow and pressure right…” You shrug. “Like I said my medication usually keeps me mostly okay.”

It’s the pain that really gets to you usually, but you don’t need to start dumping on them about that. There’s no reason to spill your guts about things they can’t fix.

“Thanks fer tellin’ us.” Johnny smiles. You stiffen slightly when he reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear. You tilt your head, still resting on the back of the couch, to meet his eye. “Get some rest, yeah? We’ll lock the knob behind us. Call if ye need anythin’.”

“Okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes down and picking at your nails. “Sorry… about all this… I didn’t - I don’t… I’m sorry.”

“Donnae apologize.” He says softly as he stands. “Never apologize. We’re your friends, aye? Friends help friends. Tha’s all there is to it.”

Simon gives you a discerning nod behind him, expression both soft and deeply serious.

Friends? They consider you real life proper friends? Really? You can’t help but beam up at him. “Yeah.”

A/N: I’ve re-read this chapter so many times that it’s total mush in my brain which tells me it’s time to be done with it.

Bonus: I made a Pinterest board for this fic

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #cod #ghoap #cod x reader #ghost x reader #soapghost x reader #soap x reader #ghost cod #fem reader #reader has pots #fat reader #plus size reader #reader insert #johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #across the way

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— What if I'm not good enough, anymore?

pairings: beth mead x reader, vivianne miedema x reader

summary: reader has self doubts that she won't be as good as she was when she makes her return to the pitch.

Warnings: heavy angst, talks of mental health and a minor eating disorder.

Okay, I won't lie. This was, well this was hard to write and there was a lot of tears throughout because its' a little too close to home right now with things going on, but you guys wanted it, so here we go.

Let me know what you think!

"What if I'm not good enough now?" The thoughts spiral through your brain.

It's your number one fear. It's the thing that keeps you up at night, lying awake with those thoughts plaguing your mnd.

You know you shouldn't be thinking about things like that, but your mentality of your injury was overshadowing the physical rehab your still yet to get the greenlight for yet.

Would you be good as you were when you come back?

Sure you've watched each of the girls come back from their injury and make a return to the pitch, some of them a bit more rockier than usual, but now they're striving and you can only hope that your own journey will be as smooth sailing.

Your impatient though, both incredibly and insufferably impatient.

It's a downfall that has come back to bite you in the ass, one too many times previously.

Could you blame your dad for that though?

Growing up, hes' only ever pushed you. Pushed you to push through the pain; Your dad was an impatient man himself, one with a temper and he didn't believe that letting you rest was the best thing sometimes.

The first few months of your recovery after your surgery felt long, all you felt was agitation and more so frustration not being allowed to do things that you once took for granted.

You really did hate depending on those around you, you felt like a constant burden despite that fact that all the girls kept on reassuring you that you weren't, but in the back of your mind, you always thought different about it.

The one thing you never realised would be as hard would be the mentality of it all, the physical pain was tiresome and therefor, your mental health was taking a battering rapadly.

"You okay, kid?" The familiar voice of your team mum speaks up to get your attention.

Your too wrapped up in your thoughts to barely even hear her, "M' fine,"

"You sure? You seem quiet-- What is it, does your knee hurt? Do you want another pillow?" Beth tries to offer her help, assisting you with whatever you need.

"I'm fine, Beth!" You shout loudly.

You hadn't meant to snap at Beth of course, but your emotions got the better of you and your temper has always been your worst enemy, amongst other things.

"O... Okay," Beth is taken back by your sudden burst of anger. "Well, you know I'm just through the kitchen if you need me, okay?" She reassures you.

"Mhm," You barely acknowledge her precense, choosing to stare blankly at old episode of Bones you'd put on to try and disract your mind.

You wanted to retreat to your bedroom, but after the last time where you remembered the staged intervention with a certain blonde english skipper, you thought against the idea of that.

So for now, you'll just sit on the sofa, wallowing in self-pity and get attached to fictional characters whos' deathes are inevitable.

"Have you noticed that Y/N is uh..." Beth whispers, hesistant for you to overhear her from the other room.

"Distant?" Viv guesses straight away.

The blonde furrows her eyebrows and nods in slow motion, "Well, yes, uh and a bit snippy as well. Should we talk to her?" She wonders, trying to figure out the best approach to talk to you.

"It's probably a good idea--" Vivs' agreement is cut off.

"You know I can hear you guys, right?" You make your voice known, of course you knew they would be whispering about you.

After all, your not a complete moron to not hear it.

"Y/N," Viv begins to speak.

"I don't like it when you talk about me like that!" You uneasily stand up on your feet, going to move towards the direction of your bedroom for a bit of peace and quiet.

"At least use your crutches!" Beth shouts aloud, gesturing to the item that is currently the bane of your life.

"Bite me!" You respond, scowling at them as you shuffle slowly past, trying to withhold from wincing at the sudden shooting pain in your knee.

At least you do a good job to hold your tears back until your in the confindments of your own bedroom, comforted with the blanket that you can wrap around you and try to block out the rest of the world.

As soon as you got the go-ahead from the doctors to start your rehab at the training grounds, you were virtually jumping for joy.

At least you was on the outside; Inside on your head, it was a completely different story. You were battling your own inner feelings of doubt.

Of course from the minute you'd been allowed back in the gym, every single of your team mates were more than supportive of this step forward in your recovery.

They all knew you'd been finding it difficult, and sure enough most of them had even got the brunt of your anger.

Starting out with your rehab process, you had to start with light excercises but in your head that didn't feel good enough.

You want to be out there on the pitch already, you hate the fact that the healing process is taking so long.

You didn't feel it was fair at all, why won't your stupid knee just heal already?

"You've got this, Y/N!" One of the pyshios' encourage you to keep going with the current training excercise, something so simple felt so hard to you now.

Viv smiles encouringly as she cheers you on from the sidelines, "You're doing great kid." She states.

"Keep pushing!" Leahs' right there beside her, her voice gentle but still managed to hold a firm tone in a way to keep you going.

"You can do this, kid!" Beth chimes in, trying to keep her own tears of happiness at bay as she watches your journey to recovery step that step forward. "We're so proud of you!"

Tears of frustration were visable, even the simplest of tasks felt so gruelling; There were even times whether you questioned if you wanted to hang your football boots up, but that was an easy way out.

Football is your life and its your passion, you'd be gutted to do that.

You had to push forward, you had to do better. You had to be better!

If only it was that simlpe, right?

Nobody warned you off the setbacks in the journey. You had to figure that one out yourself, even the slighest knock and it was a step backwards.

It always seems to be one step forward, two steps back.

You shouldn't have pushed yourself, you should have known better, but of course, your stubborn streak let you down.

In your own opinion, your recovery wasn't going as quick as you wanted it to. So you took it upon yourself to train extra hard in the gym, sure it was difficult under the watchful eye of the older girls' as they wanted to make sure to not let you overdo it, but you had your ways.

Making excuses and staying late at the training grounds once the team had all gone, pushing yourself to the extreme - Unaware of just how much damage you'd be putting yourself through.

Damn stupid knee injuries.

It works to keep your extra training sessions a secret, at least for a while, until one night when your caught red handed, by no other person that the stern blonde English skipper, so just so happens to have come back to pick something up that she'd forgotten.

"Y/N?" You recognise that all too familiar voice all too well, having been on the recieving end of a few lectures.

You freeze in your spot on the treadmill, which isn't very safe in itself, "Shit-- It's not what it looks like!" Your quick to protest.

"Oh? So your not overworking yourself in the gym then, hm?" Leah quirks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, well, uh yeah. I guess?" You stutter your words, knowing you've definitely been caught out now.

Leah can't help but chuckle amusedly, "You guess?"

"I, uh... Look I know it looks bad, but I needed to do this, Le." If you've been caught out then you're at least going to try and fight your reasoning for it, even if she doesn't believe you.

Judging my her facial expression, the blonde definitely isn't fooled.

"Come on. Lets' go, baby England," Leah motions you to follow her, holding out her hand for you to take.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you shut the whirring treadmill off and gingerly look at her, "Why-- Where are we goin'?" You ask.

"Well first I'm taking you for something to eat and then I'm taking you home, its' already been a long day," Your English Captains' quick to tell you, although before you have chance to protest, she continues to speak. "And you shouldn't be pushing yourself anymore than you already are, alright?" She states.

"But..." You still try and protest against the idea.

"No buts, I know you haven't eaten much, buddy," Leahs' firm voice interjects, still continuing to hold her hand out for you to take. "Come on. Grab your stuff and lets' go,"

You should have known it would only be a matter of time before you were caught out.

How could you be so careless, though?

You didn't think you not eating enough would be that noticeable, but apparently not.

Begrudingly, you step off the treadmill and clutch onto her hand to steady your uneasiness coming off it, "Are you going to tell Beth and Viv about this?" You ask, cautiously.

"I have to," Leah replies in agreement.

"Why?" You fight the urge to whine, even if makes sense for them to know, you wish they didn't have too.

"You can't push yourself, kiddo. You know how serious this injury is!" Leahs' firm voice makes a return, not missing the chance to make it known how much of a bad decision this was for you to make.

You know it looks bad, you do but yet you still couldn't help yourself.

You wanted to get better. You wanted-- No, you needed to do better.

"But I'm so fed up, Le," You grumble, walking in the direction of the changing room to grab your stuff. "Why... Why won't it just fuckin' heal already?" You don't mean to swear, you've never been one to use colourful language, but your frustration is at it's brink right now.

"Whoa, easy on the language there, buddy," Leah jokes, chuckling as she wraps her free arm around your shoulder. "Listen, I know your frustrated, but its' going to take time and you know this. You can't rush it, or you'll make it worse!" She states, firmly.

"Stupid knees' injuries suck," You murmer, gathering your stuff together before you make the exit from the training grounds.

Leah chuckles as she unlocks her car, gesturing for you to climb in the passenger seat, "Yep, yes they do," She agrees with you.

"I just want to be out there on the pitch already," You admit, slumping down into the seat once you have buckled yourself in.

The blonde smiles sympathetically at you, understanding your frustration, "That day will come, but for now, you've just gotta trust the process and let your body heal," She pauses before she continues. "I know you don't like it and all, but you have to just be patient this once, buddy."

"Even if it takes forever?" You resist the urge to groan and throw your head back.

"Even then, because it'll be worth it when you make your return to the game," Leah promises you with a gentle tone of voice.

"Yeah, but, what if..." Your sidetracked from what you are going to say, trying to not spiral into your dark thoughts once again.

"What if?" Leah furrows her eyebrow.

You swallow the lump that forms in your throat, "What... What if I'm not as good as I was before I got injured?" You confess the fear that's been plaguing your mind for god-knows how long.

Leah looks at you concerned, "You don't know how its' gonna be, but what I do know is that whatever happens, we're all behind you," She promises you as she gives you a kind smile and gently squeezes your good knee. "The day you eventually do return to the pitch, you're damn sure we'll all be there cheering as loud as we can," She promises you.

"Even if you're on the pitch as well?" You can't help but giggle.

Leah proudly nods in agreement as she grins, "Hey, I'll personally stop the game just to welcome you on the pitch, baby England." The blonde winks playfully at you from where she sits in the car.

"Your silly sometimes, Le," You mumble, finding it hard to take the blonde serious in this very moment.

"I know you're all up in your head about this, but it's going to be okay," Leah words stick firm in your brain as you smile. "Your not alone in this journey, you're never alone. We've got you." 

© scribblesofagoonerr

#woso x reader #arsenal x reader #woso #woso fanfics #beth mead x reader #vivianne miedema x reader #meadema x reader #meadema #scribblesofagoonerr #woso imagine #leah williamson x reader #woso fic #arsenal wfc x reader

[ihopeiexplode]

Random angst part 2 (continuation of this)

includes: G. Satoru . G. Suguru . R. Sukuna

A/N: was this an excuse to yap yes

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

Extra:

(this is what mitski songs the scenario is based off + why I choose it and my Interpretation on the song!!!)

Gojo[Eric]: I like to think Eric is based off a friends w benefits relationship where the guy is mistreating the girl but the girl is desperate for any kind of attention and gets attached so that's what I based on gojos part out off he might sound out of character so yeah!!!

Geto dies and gojo has been grieving his death ever since and hopped relationship to another till he experiences the feeling that geto made him felt but the closest one he got was you, but as hard as he tried to make the friends with Benefits thing work he just couldn't it felt different, so meaning he was badly neglecting your feelings but you on the other hand never had an ounce of attention so you took what you could get and grew attached to gojo despite him being neglecting (ik it doesn't make sense js bare w me 😞😞)

Geto[your best American girl]: I like to think the song is about being with someone who only sees you as another person and you trying to make the relationship work by trying to meet there standards

Gojo dies and the closest thing geto has to him is you, the whole reason geto was with you was just because you were so similar to geto, and of course you knew and well you tried being gojo but eventually became tired of pretending seeing how geto was only with you just to fill a hole gojo left, in getos eyes he'll only see you as someone who reminds him of gojo and never will see you as who you truly are (out of character once again, btw geto Nd gojos part R basically alternatives like instead of geto dying it's gojo get it get it)

Sukuna[townie]: I like to think townie is basically just rebellion like let's say y/n's parents badly neglected her and placed her into an arranged marriage but y/n doesn't want that so she runs away blah blah

Then she meets Sukuna and at first she thinks Sukuna genuinely wants to help her through whatever problem she has but in reality he's just manipulating her, Sukuna does not give a fuck about y/n the only think he likes is how y/n is easily manipulated and loves the power he has over her so he starts controlling her and manipulating her but in y/n's eyes she thinks it his way of showing his love seeing how she was neglected causing her to mistake toxic love for actual love

Mind you these are all just my interpretations and yes I'm aware how out of character they all sound

#jjk smau #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk geto

[bright-side20]

Koschei's Sleeping Beauty retelling 🌹

I've found Koschei's sleeping beauty details so here it is

_In the tale, it is said that once Koschei focuses his gaze on the chosen princess, he is capable of exerting a powerful influence over her. He recites ancient, arcane words, and the maiden collapses gracefully, falling into a deep, unbreakable sleep, immune to the passage of time.

_ Koschei was described to be surrounded by shadows and swirling mist. He then takes the princess to his grand hall with a bone throne, where she waits for the hero who can break the spell.

*In SF:

The being that stood atop the lake was a shadow. It must be a reflection, Cassian thought. Smoke and mirrors. "Where is Briallyn?" Azriel demanded, Siphons flaring like cobalt flame. “I spend so many months preparing for you,” Koschei crooned, “and you don’t even wish to speak to me?”

*Koschei in the book is described as a shadow being as in the tale. Plus he could be trying to lure Azriel to the lake because once he can fix his gaze on him he'll be able to manipulate him with his power and enchant him with unbreakable sleep.

What I think is that Koschei could have been trapped in the lake using the Starsword, so he needs the TT to undo it. That's why he wants Az because he owns the dagger, so he could curse him with eternal sleep and try to make Elain free him from the lake in exchange for breaking Azriel's curse.

_In the tale, the only way to break the enchantment is through an instrument called the gusli which is very similar to the harp.

Gusli. Harp.

_The strings of the gusli are made of pure silver and inbued with encient magic, when played correctly they emit a powerful, harmonic resonance that can break the spell and awaken the princess.

*In SF, the harp has ancient magic in its strings, and they are also made of silver:

The golden Harp, covered in intricate embossing, set with silver strings.

The small strings are for games—light movement and leaping—but the longer, the final ones … Such deep wonders and horrors we could strum into being.

_In the tale, for the Gusli's magic to work, it should be played by a hero who is pure of heart and noble intent.

*We know that Elain can use the harp because she's a cauldron made, and we also know that she has a different kind of strength:

“Elain had always been gentle and sweet—and I had considered it a different kind of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind. She had always been so full of light.”

She is someone pure of heart, and her love for Azriel will definitely be strong and pure, so I think that could be another reason why she's the one who can break his curse 🥰

My theory about the harp is that, since in Hofas it was said that it can transfer one's power to the soul of another. Therefore, Elain may be able to give a portion of her life power to Az's soul through the harp to awaken him.

#elriel #pro elriel #elriel supremacy #pro elain #elain archeron #acotar thoughts #acotar theory #azriel acotar #sarahjmaas #elain x azriel

[livwritesstuff]

It’s late in the day when Sam Owens first approaches Eddie.

Eddie is sitting in a lawn chair on the edge of Joyce and Hopper’s backyard in Hawkins, Indiana, and sort of trapped there ever since his and Steve's daughter Moe had dozed off in his lap a little while ago.

For the record, Eddie and Steve don’t live in Hawkins. They’d have to be insane to stick around after everything this hole of a town put them through, never mind willingly choose to raise a child there. No, Hopper had bullied them into making the trek home to celebrate Moe's first birthday (Jesus H. Christ, she's one) and by the looks of how crowded the yard is, he'd done the same to practically the entire rest of the Party too.

Eddie isn't actually trapped either. It's true that he doesn't really want to tempt fate by waking Moe up from a nap that he and Steve had sort of resigned themselves to skipping that day, but he could get up if he wanted to. He's a whole sap in his big age of thirty-six though, and extremely aware of how quickly Moe’s first year of life had flown by. He'd be a damn fool to not relish in these moments, when Moe is a baby still, when she's little enough to fall asleep in his lap like this.

So he's sitting and he's letting his mind wander down whatever rabbit-holes it ventures upon because he's not just a sap these days, he's getting retrospective too.

Twenty years after all the shit that went down in his Hawkins, Eddie considers himself a secondary character in it all (even though it hadn’t felt like it at the time – that’s for fucking sure). 

Honestly, he'd really only been involved in about five days out of several years of that shit – not in the know yet for the first part, and unconscious for the end of it – secondary character stuff, in Eddie’s opinion (and as a two-time published novelist, he’d be the one to know).

It's probably for the best, to be honest. He barely survived even the secondary stuff — with a mostly-full picture of everything that happened over those three years he feels pretty positive that if he’d gone through anything more he wouldn’t have been so lucky. 

And these days, in July of 2002, he’s feeling pretty lucky too. 

“Doc,” Eddie nods as Owens takes the empty chair beside his own.

Owens is another one of these secondary characters in everything. Owens is…Eddie isn’t sure who Owens is, to be honest. A doctor in some capacity, he's fairly certain, and also a scientist too in some capacity given how he’s still in Hawkins doing research on all that shit — and he roped Dustin into it too (though as far as Eddie can tell, Dustin is a more-than willing victim in it and goddamn thrilled to be taking over his work someday too).

Someday soon, Eddie would wager, because Owens is well and truly reaching retirement age – he probably should have retired already, honestly, but Eddie can also sort of see why it might be difficult to step away from the kind of work he’s spent his life doing.

“Mr. Munson,” Owens greets him in return. Eddie watches his eyes flick down to Moe for a moment, “Or is it Pops these days?”

“That’s Steve, actually,” he replies, tipping his head in the direction of Steve, who’s standing at the grill with Hop (they’re listening to Dustin ramble about something and wearing matching beleaguered expressions).

Owens seems to understand the implication, because his only response is another one of those wry smiles and an exhaled laugh.

“Well, congratulations either way. I was very happy for you when I heard the news about the adoption.”

“Still keeping tabs on us after all these years?” Eddie asks, mostly joking because he knows the answer is yes. He knows they’ll have eyes on them for the rest of their lives for one reason or another (which he’s nearly made his peace with by now).

“Well, old habits die hard,” Owens replies somewhat tiredly, “Or something to that effect.”

Eddie doesn't really have anything to say in response, so he opts to say nothing, instead running a hand over Moe's hair — it's getting long these days, not quite long enough to style yet but long enough that she shakes her head to get it out of her eyes and knocks herself off-balance which is so so cute.

“I’ll admit," Owens continues after a while, "When I first met you, this isn’t where I thought you’d end up.”

“Yeah, you and me both, Doc," he laughs, because it's true.

“What I mean to say," he pauses, "It suits you.”

Moe chose that moment to finally stir, snuffling a bit as she lifts her head and looks at him with those beautiful brown eyes of hers.

"Good nap, bug?" he asks quietly.

She responds with a bleary, "Dada" (which she had only just started saying a few weeks ago and it goddamn kills Eddie every single time) as she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder.

He hears Owens let out a soft chuckle.

“You’re really milking this, bug," Eddie says as presses a kiss onto the top of her head, "I think he gets it.”

#the level of strong-arming i went through with this one might not have been worth it tbh #whatever #take it and run ig #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #eddie munson #sam owens

[hitlikehammers]

Steve Harrington: The Boy Who Never Belonged Anywhere

🖤steddie🖤 — and yeah okay it does kinda start out w a little emotional whump (also please let me emphasize the TEMPORARY character death that MIGHT NOT EVEN BE REAL IN THE FIRST PLACE 👀)

To say Steve’s never felt like he belonged, like he ever really fit anywhere, would be inaccurate.

Because he’d have to know what it meant to fit somewhere at all, in order to know that he was failing at it, like, specifically.

Failure in general, though: that Steve is more than accustomed to. That is all his in fucking spades—and not for lack of trying for better. He watches the other kids at the piano recitals; he cannot perform sufficiently to escape his mother’s exasperation. He listens to his classmates, the ones from families his parents approve of, tries to learn their phrasings, their flippance, their disdain for things Steve doesn’t understand as deserving of the hate his parents show: still his father rages, still Steve weathers his disappointment as a rule. So he does try: less to fit, maybe, and more to blend. To be inoffensive. To maybe just…be forgotten. To fade into the backdrop.

Everything in his life, really, he does to this end: match them. Be like them. Be good but not too good. Don’t draw attention. Fit in, finally, if you’re lucky—someday.

Don’t aim to belong, lest you set yourself up for disappointment.

He knows enough of disappointment; he’s not interested in making any more.

So Steve swims where he stays in a lane, and he dribbles a ball in the confines of a court. Shoots it even, though he’s not always sure why it matters, but he chalks it up to the truth of ‘most things’: he doesn’t understand it because he doesn’t quite fit, and that’s probably explanation enough.

He sits at the table at lunch with the people from the families with names his parents don’t frown at. He makes his hair look like the actors in the magazines, the ones that enough people seem to like to merit a place on the cover, to earn the right to make money for a company because money is important—another thing Steve doesn’t wholly comprehend, but his father screams less when there is more money and screams a lot more when even a little bit of it is lost so Steve adds it to the list of things he’ll never understand because he doesn’t fit.

He dates, because that’s what everyone else does. It isn’t unpleasant. It’s more just a thing. He dates Nancy Wheeler because his father mentioned once that a prize hard won was a prize tripled in worth and Steve wants to do things that are worth something. Steve thinks maybe enough worth will mould him into the right shape. To fit.

He’s wrong, in the end.

But it ends up with him being confused instead, in gradual steps in the middle: he ends up being confused by wanting to protect.

He’s never really felt that urge before but it feels natural, and it feels stronger than other feelings do; than other ones have. Stronger than winning. Stronger than dating. Stronger than pleasure. Stronger than wanting.

He wonders—only briefly, but he does wonder—if this is what they mean when they talk about ‘fit’. If this is just another word for ‘belonging’. Like a…a cinnamonym. Or whatever it’s called.

It isn’t, he does ultimately realize, but it fills something in him anyway. It doesn’t make him fit everywhere, but it moulds him like Play-Doh, or silly putty, to fit…here. Maybe not perfectly. Maybe not as he’d dreamed or hoped. Maybe not like he imagined from all the stories and movies and shit. But.

It’s a kind of fit. Protecting is a type of belonging, he thinks. Yeah

It’s good. It’s a good thing.

But it really does cement the simple fact that everything in Steve’s life—whether it landed him closer or farther away from the idea of belonging in any of it, of being able maybe to live itself at all: but everything he chooses, everything he tries, everything he does and makes of himself, brings into being as proof that he’s here?

Is only ever for anything and anyone but himself.

He considers the kids as anomalies, as proof against the rule: they provide no social clout—in reality they damage his standing with the people his parents deem worth courting for opinion. They fill up Steve’s chest, though, but: it’s protection, first and foremost. The belonging of keeping safe.

Then there’s Robin, and she’s the closest he’s even known to something that could be other, something that could be new. Sometimes it feels like her cells are made of the same ill-fitting star-stuff that Steve’s cursed with but no part of Robin is a curse, Robin Buckley is only a gift and that makes it confusing, so confusing—

He still needs to protect her, above nearly all things, but the way she doesn’t merely fill his chest but comes to live inside it? That is new. And maybe Steve still doesn’t fit, or belong, but: Robin fits under his ribs, and he belongs inside hers just the same and…that might not be what anyone wanted from him. But it’s something.

And yeah, maybe circumstance chooses it for him first, but: he holds on of his own volition. It’s his own whole-ass choice to never ever let her go.

So it’s something.

Though: after—not long, but still after, long enough after that Steve knows a little what he’s looking for, the full-feeling that makes his ribs like a breastplate, that…that he protects with all that he is but maybe for the first time, also protects him. Make an armor of his chest and holds him close, makes him laugh and feel light, and see colors he didn’t know existed; makes him feel weightless like the ground’s no longer beneath his feet.

It’s this…undeniable taste of what it means to belong, and he knows that for reasons he cannot point toward or give a name to. But he knows. This is belonging.

Belonging, inside the one and only thing in Steve’s whole life that he has ever chosen for himself: the beautiful man with eyes beyond nighttime, elusive and enchanting, selling him something that might take the edge off, the sting of still failing to fit.

When he finds, over days, and then weeks, is that fit is exactly the word for how he falls into Eddie Muson’s arms, how his dick disappears between Eddie Munson’s lips, how Eddie’s slicked-up cock slides between the cleft of Steve’s ass—close, close but not yet, baby, not yet, let’s savor the journey there; this.

This is what it means to belong, with absolutely no reasons pushing him toward it, toward them; in fact maybe more reasons pull him back, even, because Eddie Munson is the opposite of the family names his parents approve of, Eddie Munson is the opposite of maybe anything that anyoneapproves of, at least among the people who care about approving at all and that’s…that’s maybe the most amazing thing Steve’s ever learned and found, this freedom, this beauty, this man and the soul of him like champagne if it were soda pop, common maybe but only on the surface, hidden from view and so so sweet, so so rich in ways that really matter but bubbling always, a constant carbonated effervescence in Steve’s heart and his lungs and his bones and his veins, it is something—

It’s one of the best and most incredible somethings Steve could possibly imagine.

And Steve chose it all for himself. Steve clings to it, savors it just like he’s asked—loves inside it, all for himself.

He thinks he wants to offer his heart to Eddie. He’s already lost it, he’s pretty sure of that, but…he thinks there’s something in giving it, in finding a tiny break in the fullness of his ribs to reach inside and cradle it like an offering.

And then the universe, or whatever makes certain that his world, his life, is shaped not-to-fit as a rule: it reminds him.

Because Eddie sees a cheerleader snapped in half. And Eddie’s on the run, but not into Steve’s arms. And Eddie’s separated from him, for no good fucking reason when his soul’s hurting, aching for in; when his heart’s ready to be offered, Steve found the crack, he’s reached in and he’s reaching out with it cupped in his hands, just, just please—

And then Eddie’s gone. Eddie’s dead. And nothing belongs. Nothing fits. Moving’s not made for here. Breathing’s anathema.

Steve’s heart falls to the ground, untended. Insignificant.

And when it’s all said and done, Steve looks at the sky, knows that’s not where the cause of any of this lies if there’s a cause to it at all, but he blinks, and he cannot cry because he’s drowning in the tears on the inside but they don’t fit here either, so all he can do at all is blink and he lets go: of the wanting. Of the trying. Of the pushing to be anything but what he is, and was always meant to be. Will never be anything other than.

I get it. I see it. This world is not for me. I will never find my place. I tried, I asked for more and I lost. I understand.

I won’t make the same mistake again.

Secretly, though, where he drowns in his tears inside the breastplate of ribs still so full even if the protection’s turned rusted, leant into decay: secretly—

He cannot let go of Eddie Munson. He may be lost, and he may be as much the provenance of soil and dust, of the creatures there begging to consume without any care or concept of all that he meant; all that he means: Eddie may be no more than bound to the same fate as the heart Steve dropped to that same dirt, let it get ground into the earth to decay with his beloved, to be there with him always the only way that’s left, but—

Steve does not fit, will never belong, yet despite everything: he cannot let go of Eddie Munson.

He can’t yet comprehend that might be for a reason, let alone a reason that might just fit.

...part 2? 🧚‍♂️

For @vthx, who requested a fusion of 'Character-Has-Powers / Changelings' and A Dustland Fairytale—The Killers at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher

divider credits here

💫 ao3 link here

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #whump #emotional whump #but only to start I swear #hurt/comfort #(eventually; again I swear) #angst #angst with a happy ending #supernatural elements #changelings #changeling children #character study #happy ending #temporary character death #(or is it even a *death*? WHO'S TO SAY) #platonic stobin #stranger things #gift fic #vthx #hitlikehammers' hobbit-birthday prompt fest #hitlikehammers v words #hitlikehammers writes

[vigilskeep]

Any guesses on the Veilguard companions?

some suggestions i think are worth placing bets on

an antivan crow (the concept art and short story presence PLUS what’s been said about each companion representing “iconic factions”, i think this is a dead certainty). natural choice for a rogue, but the concept of crow mages has been being set up in the novels for a while

again judging by concept art presence, a nevarran mortalitasi necromancer OR a nevarran possessed skeleton type as our friendly spirit companion

a grey warden, probably from the anderfels/weisshaupt itself. always has been one and there is no faction more iconic, right? i believe there’s ancient voice acting snippets suggesting it’s some guy called davrin

considering the collective way that concept art captions, absolution, and apparently three separate stories from tevinter nights were like “hey did you know the LORDS OF FORTUNE are a thing? the lords of fortune from RIVAIN”, one of these. my guess is that they thought about going felicisima armada for a rivaini companion but didn’t want to just rehash isabela’s pirate gimmick so they made something up and they’ve been trying to set it up really hard

i’ve seen people suggest scout harding is being pushed forward for the role and i guess the inquisition is an iconic faction now?

otherwise, couldn’t really say for a dwarven companion. iconic factions might include the legion of the dead, the carta... the tevinter ambassadoria is a bit more niche but would make sense for a northern companion. i could also see them simply making one of the other suggestions a dwarf, the grey warden is definitely a strong contender since it’s always been a human man and it’d be nice to mix it up

speculatively, i’d like to see a templar. you can’t deny it’s an iconic faction. either a southern templar trying to take up a new cause after everything crashed and burned or a vint templar with a completely new perspective to what we’re used to would be a lot of fun. i would actually love to play this character if it’s not a companion lmao

another obvious faction is the dalish. it’s been a while since we had one, we’ve never had a non-mage dalish companion so there’s a lot of room for a fresh approach, they’re so plot relevant right now. someone’s got to give us that good good exposition! and i am so sick of it not being the dalish themselves 😭

i would be very surprised if there’s no qunari or tal-vashoth. i don’t have many strong ideas, i would just expect it to be a rogue or a mage, since warriors are all we’ve had

all that obviously tallies up to more than seven so we have to pick and choose—and i’m sure there’s plenty of surprises i haven’t thought of—but those would be my instincts! i’ve been thinking about this for a while haha. i’d be excited for any of these, just please, please hand over the romanceable dwarf. i know you’ve got them bioware

#how are we tagging this game. #dav

[nutmeg030]

Since I feel like sharing my headcanons was insanely fun I’m going to be doing more! So same as before here are sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors I’m having fun

MORE Random And Oddly Specific Obey Me Headcanons

Familiar Edition

All of the brothers familiars are very attached to MC however mammons Crows are the most attached to MC sometimes choosing her side over his side.

I can see MC walking back from RAD noticing a demons really pretty hair pin saying they wish they had that hairpin, later that night a crow is tapping on MCs window with a hair pin as a gift and surprise it’s the exact one she was wanting.

Contrary to popular belief I think Asmodeus familiars would be only animals he sees as beautiful and unfortunately for MCs with Arachnophobia and/or Entomophobia (like myself) most of them are surprisingly (or unsurprising) Scorpions and Spiders like peacock or jumping spiders he finds their colors and eyes so beautiful. And another unfortunate (or fortunate) thing depending on your views of bugs or arachnids is Devildom spiders and scorpions are big like much bigger than ones from the human realm like Australia sizes (if you know you know)

Asmo might try to help MC with any sort of Arachnophobia by showing them some of his most colorful and cutest familiars they all love her so they’ll show off all of their cool patterns or dance, but if Asmodeus senses any once of fear from MC he’ll try to find another way to introduce them to you getting an idea of maybe dressing them up in tiny clothes would work (spoiler it did not)

I know alot of people think that Lucifer’s familiar would be either Cerberus or a peacock like his animal counterpart but I think it’s much more of a he doesn’t have an “official familiar” he tends to help his brothers care of their familiars (he’s a hard working single father of 6 boys)

Satans familiars are cats I will not explain there’s no need to

Beel much like Lucifer no official familiar but he does seem to have a fondness for cows. No Beel hamburgers can’t be familiars unfortunately.

Levi has 3 Henry 1.0 Lotan, and one very timid koi fish he found in the garden pond he thought about having it and Henry 2.0 share a tank but quickly found out putting them in the same tank is asking for trouble. And no Henry 2.0 is not a familiar that’s his best friend not some animal.

Belphie has a familiar surprise! It’s not a cow, it’s not a cat, and it’s not a bat. It’s actually a tortoise he found on his way to RAD one day he thought it was cute keeping pace with his slow sleepy steps and actually bit Lucifer when he first saw him, and then ate part of his uniform as well so for belphie he was in love with the little guy.

#comfort characters #obey me brain rot #obey me #obey me brothers #brain rot #obey me lucifer #obey me asmodeus #obey me mammon #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons

[harmonysanreads]

Okay legit I had an idea and I'm sending it to the first hsr related blog I found.

Sunday, but with amnesia.

Like, say he somehow got attacked and hit his head hard enough to mess with his memory. He remembers some things, but can't recall others.

Unfortunately, his datemate/spouse is someone he forgets.

He's able to go about his days and work just fine, but he can't help but feel like something is missing. He doesn't recall why he wants to hold their hand or accidentally let slip an affectionate petname. He's confused when he sees photos of them on his desk. No matter how hard he tries, he can't recall who they are. He knows that he loves them, he's been told by everyone (including his sister), but he just can't bring back the memory of them.

One day, while he's making his bed, he comes across a familiar gift. It's a plushie that had been pushed under his bed at some point. He doesn't recognize the character. It certainly wasn't from the Clockie cartoons. Even so, it's soft and warm and impeccably maintained, even if it shows signs of being well loved. He holds it to his chest, and he catches a whiff of familiar perfume, one that brings a single word to his mind.

"Angel."

(As you can probably tell, I've been gnawing on this idea for at least a minute)

Anon, I think you can see the future because this would be perfect to think about after that quest.

It is often said that as long as there's someone who remembers you, you'll live even after you've passed the borders of life. But, is it still ‘living’ if everyone remembers you except the person who's carved a home in your heart? And can that person ever be the same ; breathing, working and going through life with the aching vacancy of a home?

Sunday might've been shaken from the events of the Charmony Eve, but he's conscious enough to suspect that his impromptu transformation could've altered his memory. It's a simple conclusion, if you're feeling empty, then it's clear there was something occupying that space. And if the vacancy is so painful that you can't shake it off — then that missing object, or person, was undoubtedly important.

Still, it's nonetheless difficult accepting the fact that he ever loved someone that intensely. While he is open to hearing your side of things and believing in the stubborn stains you left around the corners of his life — he just can't quite believe the entirety of the truth.

There's another nagging thought slowly taking root in his subconscious after the Nameless proved their the strength of their ideology. Suppose, he accepts that he truly did love you more than the air he breaths, but, should he continue keeping you in his watch, integrated in his renown as vehemently as he'd done before? Or, should he set you free? Should he respect whatever decision you make and wherever you choose to go for once in this dreadful life?

Whatever conclusion Sunday inevitably arrives at, it's best to not expect its arrival very soon.

#anon writing #this ask is from before the 2.2 quest i think so anon was cooking #sunday #sunday x reader #sunday brainrot #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #yandere sunday #yandere sunday x reader

[bittersnsweetz]

ohhh my god i just realised why i love narumitsu so much, despite the obvious (mutual pining, slow burn, one-sided enemies, to friends, to distant friends, to close friends, to lovers all that good stuff)

its BECAUSE they have a shared emotional journey that is so narratively satisfying to me that as im typing this im barely able to contain my stimming

phoenix defends miles, so convinced he can save him and is almost blinded by that fact because he knows edgeworth as so good and so pure and he totally definitely absolutely would never willingly hurt anybody and then he ghosts him for a year which phoenix obviously interprets as yet another person abandoning him, leaving phoenix to pick up the pieces, and that whole time phoenix is beating himself up because wow this is just like when he put all his love on the line for dahlia and it turns out she was just using him this whole time and the absolute mess of emotions that arises when edgeworth comes back, alive, with no apology whatsoever.

and then two years later phoenix loses his job and edegworth is trying so hard to help and be there for him while also juggling his prosecutor job and the challenges that arise from adjusting to a new justice-driven mindset, but phoenix is already closing himself off and refusing to talk about it because hes stingy and secretive and edgeworth has seen the stingy in passing but never to this extent, where he can tell that phoenix NEEDS someone but apparently that someone isnt going to be him. and he's on call with him one night and he hears trucy for the first time and hes mortified because so many complicated emotions and questions arise from that alone: "wright are you sane" "wright are you seeing someone" "wright why didnt you tell me about this so i could help you" and i do think edgeworth gets overwhelmed by all this at once, the secrecy, the daughter, the friend who visits phoenix every now and again, the lack of healthy communication. and suddenly everything that he thought theyve worked so hard to build together has come crashing down and theres nothing phoenix will let him do to help

and its the shared parallel of the initial proposal to help "let me defend you"/"let me be there for you" being completely rejected and the repeated efforts to do so being met with a sudden shift (prosecutor miles edgeworth chooses death/i have a daughter and a new friend who helps me now) and how its so difficult for the both of them to realise at the time that its for their sake that they're doing it, that neither of them are doing this to hurt the other intentionally (although for phoenix i definitely think theres spite involved, but not to the degree to which edgeworth ends up experiencing what he does emotionally), and the idealisation that gets completely shattered by reality

just. UGH. the full circle that is them, after everything is said and done, finding closure in each other again, however non-linear that journey is, and, this is important, CHOOSING to still stay with the other through anything and everything that comes to pass, and truly SEEING the other behind their professional masks. Seeing them entirely and not just the attractive parts. im rabid.

#ace attorney #narumitsu #7 year gap #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #guys you dont understand #it would have been so easy for them to accept that the other didnt want help and just move on but they CANT #its not in their blood #phoenix sees someone in need of help and he physically cannot stop himself from needing to help them and in some cases that is his downfall #im looking at you kristoph #but hes never had someone so willing to be there to help him back and i think thats whats so painful about the 7yg

[justanotherrpmeme]

Sadistic Choice starters

"You can't save both. Choose wisely." "Who will it be? Your best friend or your sibling?" "Make your choice, hero, and live with it forever." "Time's ticking. One life or the other." "You can't always play the hero. Someone has to lose." "Save one, and condemn the other." "This is the price of being a hero: hard decisions." "Which one matters more to you?" "You can't save them both. Accept it." "Only one can survive. Decide now." "Your heart or your duty, pick one." "Save your love, or save the city." "Choose who lives and who dies." "One path leads to guilt, the other to regret." "Which sacrifice can you live with?" "Two lives in your hands, one choice to make." "Who will you save, hero?" "Decide, and live with the consequences." "One must die for the other to live." "Make your choice, but remember, I'll be watching." [DECISION] The sender is forced to choose between saving the receiver and another loved one, knowing only one can survive. [CLOCK] The sender watches the countdown timer, knowing time is running out to save the receiver or another person. [PLEA] The sender begs the receiver for advice on whom to save. [BETRAYAL] The sender chooses to save another person, leaving the receiver to face their fate alone. [SACRIFICE] The sender decides to save the receiver, knowing it means sacrificing another loved one. [TEARS] The sender cries as they realize they can't save both the receiver and another person. [HOPE] The sender tries to find a way to save both the receiver and the other person, despite the odds. [GUILT] The sender apologizes to the receiver, feeling guilty about the impossible choice they must make. [BRAVERY] The sender tells the receiver to stay strong, even if they can't save them. [RELEASE] The sender frees the receiver from their restraints, making the difficult decision to leave the other person behind. [PANIC] The sender panics as they realize they don't have enough time to save both the receiver and the other person.

#rp starter #rp ask #rp meme #roleplay meme #ask meme

[shuuen-no-cimory]

Also of course, it ain't me if I don't crossover my current hyperfixation with my ultimate current hyperfixation. So... Degrees of Lewdity x ProjectMoon! (This post is full of me yapping as I explain each drawing, so I guess, be ready?)

First, I'll go hard with Whitney as R Corp. 4th Rabbit Team. The initial idea was that he reminds me so much of RHeath LMAO But eventually I love the idea because I think he'd go along with Myo well. Plus... Somehow imagining Whitney in Rabbit Team Hatchery shenanigans seems... Interesting.

Next is Eden. If anyone notice, I originally designed him based of 2 Abnos: Der Freischutz and Big Bird. Der Frei was, of course, a nod to his title as a Hunter, and a marksman as well. For Big Bird... Yeah definitely there's the Big Bird in DoL, yet I think temperance-wise, Eden does felt similar to Big Bird. A creature living in a forest, thinking they protect others by doing the action that definitely doesn't seems to be out of protection. As for RRH, oh think about this: Being hunted down while getting marked. One by a hunter, and another by a wolf. Oh isn't it just reminds me of something...? Right

Funny enough, before I designed the school LIs properly, I reimagined them as The City's feathers. "If they're living in the City and has to work with one Wing, which one they'll work on?" I've talked about R. Corp Whitney earlier so I'll talk about the others! Robin, L Corp. - I can imagine him with the pressing needs to survive under the weight of Bailey's rent ends up either being sent or signed himself up as an agent for L Corp. The Wing doesn't ask that much requirement as per Hokmah's story while the agent supposed to have a great pay (being a wing and all). Hence, I think he might work for L Corp. Sydney, K Corp. - The idea was that after graduating, Sydney might follow Sirris path in science. Being the obedient child she is (as we sees on the game before they get corrupted), she probably choose to do what Sirris might do hence her as K Corp. researcher. Oh anyway, truly this is just a fyi that doesn't seems to be related to anything, I reimagined Harper as Dongrang in this scenario, with the whole Teary-Thing problem exist. Oh, lucky enough for Sydney to help producing K Ampule that definitely just as seen in the canon Limbus story. Just saying. Kylar, W Corp. - This one actually a rather fun idea. This is set with the idea that Kylar work as the Clean Up Member, with parents that's definitely unaware with how their child work but nevertheless proud with him. They'd even use WARP Train solely to be sent off by Kylar each time, much to Kylar silent dismay. If only they know what Kylar has to clean up among the 6 seconds they went into the train... Read one of the reblog tag and yeah. It has to do with Love Town. And pretty much how Kylar had to regularly assemble his parents again and again each trip they made.

LCB! SYDNEY LET'S GOOOO!!!! This idea came as I made my LCB-esque ID Card for Sydney. The idea of LCB Sydney's background was that it's pretty much what happened in the game, but make it The City-esque and seen from Sydney's eyes. It's fun imagining her as a Dieci Fixer who was caught in a complicated issue which she rather dip out from as she hasn't fully grow the backbone to face it yet. Oh right, in this AU I reimagined Ivory as Abnormality and both Sydney and Kylar got their EGO. Sydney got their Longing Phase EGO (HE, Gloom) while Kylar got the Haunting Phase EGO (WAW, Wrath). I actually had a draft of how the EGO works and its gimmick but let's talk it later on lol

When Yield My Flesh event is up on Limbus, my head doing the funny by thinking, "Damn... Jun Wren sounds cool..." then I remember Tingtang exist like jfgdjfgbjd HE FITS BETTER AS TINGTANG WHY DIDN'T I THINK ABOUT IT ON A SIDE NOTE, I also had the thought on how Bailey MIGHT kills it as either a Kurokumo or a Middle. After all, Middle never forget... Just like how Bailey never forget your rent LOL

And last but not least: Sydney and Robin as L Corp. Agent! Robin will be a high Temperance agent which work for Safety Team, while Sydney is the high Fortitude, high Prudence Disciplinary Team Captain. Oh, if you do notice: I made Sydney's cross looks like Penitence EGO Weapon. It's actually based of this idea of how One Sin and WhiteNight's dynamic thematically fits Sydney the Faithful and Sydney the Fallen. The name of both Abnos' EGO Set-- "Penitence" and "Paradise Lost" respectively, both fits the image of each Sydneys. Hence, I draw them in both EGO Sets!

#Degrees of Lewdity #DoL #DoL Fanart #Whitney the Bully #Robin the Orphan #Sydney the Faithful #Sydney the Fallen #Eden the Hunter #Kylar the Loner #Should I also tags PJM related stuff here??? I unno honestly #But yea the easiest way to make me yap is by THINKING about anything PJM #SDBHJDFBJDHFJDFG I JUST LOVE CONCEPT OF THE CITY SO MUCH OKAY #IT'S LIKE... You can make anything inside it YET it also has its own whole sets of worldbuilding that makes you just think #'damn think about all the possibility can happen if these people became part of the City. Like just think!!!!' #This has become a chronic illness fr fr fr #Wren the Smuggler #I FORGET TO TAG WREN IM SORRYYYYY

[wonuvs]

ㅤ ♡ ͟ ׂ ㅤ for the fans, j. wonwoo

𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗒, 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗌𝗈 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾, 𝗎𝗇𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾—𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍, 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?

𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌: 𝖼𝖺𝗆 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗎, 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗉𝗐𝗉, 𝖲𝖬𝖴𝖳 + 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝗂𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗆, 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖾𝖽𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗀.

𝗐𝖼: 1𝗄

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾: 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂’𝗆 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁! 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗍 𝗏𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗈𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗅𝗈𝗅 (𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 @idyllic-ghost 𝖺𝗇𝖽 @bitchlessdino 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 <3)

“𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖲𝖠𝖸𝖲 𝖳𝖮 𝖳𝖱𝖸 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖲𝖧𝖤𝖣.”

Wonwoo's voice is muffled, distant although he's sitting right behind you, big hands on your thighs, fingers digging into your plush skin to keep them spread open for the camera, for the thousands of people watching, staring, at him toying with you, and at your unusual silence to that.

On the streaming platform (and on your socials), you're known for being extremely sensitive and easy to rile up. The slightest of your boyfriend's touches is enough to make your legs tremble and your pussy clench with want, enough to make your panties translucent and stick to your folds, enough to easily pull out of you the prettiest of whines—and this responsiveness is exactly what draws your dedicated follower base to your streams.

They all love how you always try so so hard to focus on the game the community chooses for you to play before you inevitably beg Wonwoo and the chat to please just let you cum, to please just let you get fucked dumb, that you promise you'll complete the game next stream; but needless to say, you never do.

Ever since you started streaming, those puppy eyes and dripping pussy of yours have managed to get you out of completing games more times than anyone could count, but with a look at your silence, at your focused stare on today's videogame even with Wonwoo's fingers constantly toying with your overstimulated nub, your followers can tell this stream is going to be different.

“Ah— Shit!” you hiss through your teeth, hips jerking forward when your boyfriend suddenly pinches your clit just as you walk into the in-game shed. The grip on the controller between your hands tightens, struggling not to make another sound when he lets go of one of your thighs in favor of gripping his naked, heavy cock, leaking just in front of your pussy, so he can lightly slap it on your folds.

Choking down a moan, cunt visibly clenching around nothing, you hear Wonwoo’s chest reverberate against your back with a low chuckle as he sees the chat going crazy at your quiet reactions to his ministrations, at your spread, trembling thighs, at your tightest hole being stretched with a pretty diamond pink plug, at your hot center beautifully put on display for thousands to see, to drool over. 

A sudden hot flash spreads all over your face and chest when you feel him unexpectedly push his cockhead in and out of your dripping entrance just as you start to be chased in the game, which means you have to stay quiet if you want to move on to the next sequence, but how can you when all you can think, feel, and taste is your boyfriend?

Never halting his movement, his hot breath hits the back of your neck, tongue lapping at your sweaty skin before mumbling, “Shhh, baby. You have to stay silent to win, remember?”

Wonwoo waits for you to nod and shakily continue on with your game as his long fingers trail up your exposed stomach to pinch your stiff nipples under the bright neon light, the other brushing past your sensitive folds to reach the shimmering plug stretching you out and lightly pull at it, making you shudder and whimper out a: “Y-You’re cruel.”

He grins at your words, eyes ogling as you struggle to run away from the… thing in the game before that way too familiar ‘YOU DIED’ screen pops up on your monitor. And normally, this would be the moment you’d start begging Wonwoo and the chat to please let you get fucked instead of completing the game, but surprisingly, you immediately restart it without a word, leaving both your boyfriend and fans shocked.

“Oh?” the man behind you says, tilting his head as he looks over the determination on your features, and when he sees your pussy gush over his cock as soon as you get your first achievement, it clicks.

The realization makes Wonwoo scoff, his hand swiftly moving over your leaking cunt to give it a harsh, hard slap. The impact makes you almost drop the controller, thighs uselessly fighting against the strength of his arms and hands as the painful but pleasurable sting leaves you lightheaded and wanting—needy of his slick cock to be buried inside of you. 

“Wonu,” you breathlessly whine, your pulsing, drenched core being further revealed by your boyfriend’s index and middle finger trailing down to spread your folds open to the camera, making chat go insane and donations flow like crazy. You lick your lips, turning your head back to look your boyfriend in the eyes, only to see him staring back at you with such a lustful, lewd look, your throat goes dry, “What—”

You don’t even have time to finish your sentence before he quickly readjusts your position and stuffs you full of his deliciously long cock, knocking the breath right out of you. Your eyes cross when his thumb presses on your abused nub as he starts fucking up into you, hips loudly snapping against your damp asscheeks, wet and veiny length rearranging your insides with every deep plunge. Then, teeth sank into your bottom lip as he furiously rubs your clit, Wonwoo speaks loud enough for the mics around you to pick up, his next words creating havoc in the chat and your already blurry thoughts, “Ah, so the promise of letting three cocks fuck you raw if you win a game is what it takes for you to stay quiet and go through with one, huh? Let’s see how fucking bad you want it then, baby.”

#svthub #k-vanity #k-labels #svt smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #svt hard thoughts #svt hard hours #seventeen hard thoughts #seventeen hard hours #wonwoo hard hours #wonwoo hard thoughts #kpop smut

[mattsfavbigtitties]

Bestfriend's w/the Triplets (Headcanons)

Warnings: cussing

MASTERLIST TAGLIST

A/n: My little boos;( pls remember that my requests r open and u can ask me anything🤗

- Honestly they are prepared to be bit by you WHENEVER. Literally anywhere you four are, if you’re anywhere close to them you’ll bite them for comfort. Whether it be the arm, a shoulder, maybe a hand and/or finger, their back or could be their chest. Either it be in a comforting way or you just being a brat.

One time when y’all were at a party together and Nick and Chris went off on their own leaving you with Matt. A few minutes goes by or maybe an hour you don’t know honestly, you and Matt have been talking and laughing in a small corner of what it seems was the living room.

You slowly have started to realize how many people were cramped in the same room and moved closer to Matt for comfort. Your anxiety had started to act up and you ended up grabbing his hand and hiding behind him while biting his back shoulder.

The boys never make a scene when this type of thing happens, they usually just let it happen and talk about it later with you in the comfort of his or your home.

On the other hand, when play fighting with them you always seem to use your teeth as the winning deal. And when arguing with them you’d take their arm and bite a little hard lol or when just lazing around with them you’ll lay on their chest with random bite in between videos on the TV.

- When hanging out with them gets a bit boring you’re there to bring up the mood with silly pranks. You loved doing the ‘wiping ‘poo’ on their hand’ when on the toilet. But you favorite their reaction to when you did the fake pregnancy test on them. They were so supportive and happy to become uncles to a lil man/girly.

They honestly don’t really like when you pull the pranks, but they usually recognize it’s pretty funny when they look back and reminisce on it. And every once in a while they’ll all three get together to do one on you too.

- Kissing their cheeks ALL the time. Anytime you finally see them after a while away you immediately kiss their cheek and hug them as a greeting. You love to give secret cheek kisses to each of them. You usually switch the cuddles between them each movie night you guys do and after almost every thirty minutes it seems you kiss their cheek as a way to give affection. And the plus to that is when you really seem to catch them off guard in the most unpredictable way and they get a little red in those cheeks.

- You love telling them random facts you see on the internet. Anywhere you are and something reminds you of that certain fact you learned that earlier day, you immediately tell them about it.

One example is when Chris was talking about chainsaws(somehow) and you told them “Oh my God! This video I watched this morning said they invented chainsaws to help with childbirth in the 18th century, like if the baby got stuck they’d cut away bones and shit to make room for it.”

Another example is when you went with the triplets to the zoo and you saw the koalas. “Guys, did you know that koalas shit and fuck from the same hole? It’s crazy right?” With that Nick replies “UGH, so thankful right now that I am not a koala.”

- They LOVE having you in their videos. Whether it be a car video, just a random vlog, or a little Wednesday video. You always make everything they say more funnier than it would be without you. You make everything that’s not dirty, dirty. The fans do notice they’re more lively when you’re with them too. It’s so cute.

- Singing in a deep voice “Baby, lock the doors and turn the lights down low.” in the middle of hanging out in Nick’s room. He’d look at you with a disgusted face and shout “WHAT?”

Usually you’d sing songs they know/have heard of, but the ones they’ve never heard get them a lot because you choose the most hideous songs ever.

In the kitchen one evening trying to help Chris cook a meal(read cooking Chris a meal) you start singing a recent song you’ve been listening to. “Dear, Chasey Lain. I wrote to explain I’m your biggest fan.” Chris gives you a side eye from where he sat on the table behind you. You keep singing “I just wanted to ask, could I eat your ass? Write back as soon as you can.”

Chris’ mouth drops agape and makes a shocked gasp then screams “WHAT THE FUCK?” You snicker a bit, stirring to mac and cheese. “You’ve had a lot of dick. I’ve had a lot of time-” you bust out laughing when you finally turn to see Chris’ face.

- Most times when with the guys you use cringey pet names to make them laugh. You mostly use ‘snuffaluffagus’ and so much so  that it really is their nickname. On occasion you’ll shock them with a good one, like booger or big daddy.

- One of your favorite days of the week is Saturday. Of course you like every other day too, but those Saturday nights are THE best. The guys(unfortunate for them, but fortunate for you) let you have a girly-like sleepover that one night a week.

You brought up one night how you don’t have any girl friends to do those kinds of things with and they agreed to give you the thought without reason.

They definitely would never take that back as those are the best nights(somehow) for them, but sometimes they think they regret it when you use such suspicious things on them. You usually just use cute face masks and some nail polish on them, but occasionally you’ll bring makeup and tweezers to make them ‘even more beautiful’ you’ll tell them.

TAGLIST: @riowritesitall

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #mathew sturniolo #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #mattsfavbigtitties #mattsfavbigtittiesaus #Spotify