#and its not the way how it normally would be whenever i am doing through depressive episodes

[allywthsr]

WRONG PERSON | (l.norris)

summary: you send a sexy video to some tinder guy, until you realize you tapped Lando‘s contact instead, you both help the other to finish what you started

wordcount: 2.4k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: smut!, talking about toys, details about masturbation, phone sex, dirtytalk

notes: inspired by this!!! Tell me what you think, I‘m still scared to write smut, hope you all like this🫣

You were working for Quadrant, it wasn’t like you were some important boss or something, you mostly dealt with customers and sometimes got to plan a video, but Lando still took the time and got to know you. When the whole team went out for dinner, Lando talked to everyone for at least twenty minutes, he wanted to know who was working for him and his brand.

There was no denying you found him handsome, everybody thought he was pretty, but you needed to hide your excitement in your panties whenever he was near you. Not only did he make eye contact every time you two talked, but he also smelled delicious, you wanted to rip his clothes off, the whole time he was near you.

But back to where you were now, laying in bed naked, at almost one am, with your phone in your hand. You were single and desperate, texting with guys from Tinder, who were not worth more than a quick fuck, but you were young and had your needs.

With your phone in one hand, and your left boob in the other, you recorded a small video, where you were squeezing your boob and moaned slightly. You‘ve been snapchatting with a guy you met on Tinder, both of you were horny and needed a release, so why not help each other? You quickly wrote a text to the video, to make it more seducing, ’ You make me so wet…‘ and taped on the slot on Snapchat where he was for the last few snaps, before you could double check that you selected him, you hit sent and threw the phone next to you.

While you waited for his answer, your hand slowly made its way to your pussy, circling your wet clit. With a moan, you teased yourself and kept stopping the sensation in your most private area. When you heard the Snapchat notification tone, you took your phone in your hand and only saw that Lando send you a snap, it wasn’t unusual that he would snap you, you two were streaking after all, but at that time was a little odd, because you were kinda bored and waiting for your guy to reply, you withdraw your fingers from your wet cunt and opened Lando’s snap.

With a gasp, you threw away your phone, the first photo was a normal snap, a picture of his bedroom with some series on Netflix playing, but when you tapped on the screen to exit the snap, a new picture popped up. You could see his hand holding his boxershorts clothed dick, he was hard and big, long and thick. He also wrote a little text, you had to read it twice, making sure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, ’was this meant for me, babygirl?‘

You didn’t know what to do, so you did nothing for a few seconds, you didn’t feel horny anymore, suddenly aware of the cold air hitting your still-hot pussy. Should you reply and apologize, saying how you accidentally sent your boss a nude, and look him in the eye at the next dinner? Impossible.

You thought about leaving the country and starting all over again, where no one knew Lando, but that wasn’t a solution either, you had to face him and say that it wasn’t meant for him. But how can you get rid of the image in your head of his dick, the only thing that was roaming through your brain right now was how lucky his future wife would be. With a dick like that, she sure would be happy for the rest of her life.

You excited the snap and took a deep breath, what were you going to say, sorry I send you a nude, but your dick looks nice? No. It took you at least two minutes to think about it and when you took a picture of half your face and started writing a paragraph of apologies, your phone showed you an incoming call.

Lando Norris.

Shit. Your whole body tensed, you couldn’t answer, you just had to pack your things and go, leave London and Lando behind, but something in you didn’t want that, and after what seemed like hours, you did answer the call.

”Hey Lando, look uhm, I‘m sorry I sent you that video, it wasn’t meant for you, obviously. B…But thank you for responding, I mean that picture was nice, but I don’t think that this uhm professionalism between us should be broken. If.. if you want me to leave Quadrant, I‘ll do that.. uhm I’m sorry for sending you that, and I-“

”Y/N, will you stop rambling?“, his voice sounded like he was out of breath, you started shaking when you heard him speak.

”I‘m sorry, for rambling and sending you the video.“

He chuckled, ”Don’t be, maybe you could’ve seen by my response, that I wasn’t mad about it. Sure having your employee suddenly sending you a video where she squeezes her boob and moans, isn’t something I‘d expect, but you have beautiful boobs.“

You didn’t know what to say, so the only thing that came out of your mouth was a: ”Thank you?“, you could hear your heartbeat in your chest, the silence on the other line panicked you.

”But, maybe this is unprofessional of me now, but you left me in a kind of hard situation, Y/N. I bet you’re still wet if your fingers would slide between your legs, aren’t you?“

Your breath hitched, was this for real? Was Lando Norris, your boss, dirty talking to you?

”I..I don’t know, it was a pretty big shock to see you replying, I‘m not as horny as I was ten minutes ago.“

”Then I want you to glide your hand over your boobs and stomach, down to your pussy, I bet it’s pretty, and then tell me how wet you are.“

With a small sigh, you did what he told you, gliding over your boobs and stomach to your pussy, you touched your entrance slightly and felt yourself pulsating, you may not be as horny anymore, but your wetness said otherwise, maybe a part of you already found it hot that Lando actually replied to you.

”Fuck, I‘m so wet Lando.“

You heard a moan from the other line and some sheet rustling, ”Baby, I want you to touch yourself like you would do without me. Finger yourself, rub your clit, do whatever satisfies you. I‘m hard as a rock baby, I need to touch myself too, I wish you were here to do it for me.“

You did as Lando told you, rubbing your clit in circles and feeling yourself come closer to the edge, this whole situation was so hot, it turned you on so badly.

”Please touch yourself, Lando, I wish I was there to help you.“

”I could eat you out until you’re crying and begging me to stop because you would be overstimulated.“

Another moan escaped your mouth and slowly you let your fingers slip into you, which was no problem due to your wetness, but it wasn’t enough, you needed more, thankfully Lando seemed to know what you were thinking when he heard your unsatisfied moans.

”Do you need more baby? Are your fingers not enough, you need my dick to stretch you out?“

You let out whiny and breathy ’yes‘, this situation was so bizarre but hot at the same time.

”Do you have any toys, Y/N? I want you to use a toy on yourself.“

”I..I do.“

”Show me.“

”Can we switch to FaceTime? It’s easier, and I want to see you.“

Lando hummed and muttered a quick goodbye before the screen with the call disappeared, the only thing you could see on your phone now was the picture you took a few minutes ago, and before you could do anything else, the FaceTime call from Lando came in. You answered without thinking about it and you were greeted with a big and girthy dick, and your mouth watered a little. You held the phone up, so he could see your face and your boobs, which he commented with a quiet ’fuck‘.

”Show me your toys, baby.“

You quickly got up and propped the phone against your lamp that stood on the nightstand, while you looked under your bed to fish out the box with your toys. It wasn’t like you were some pornstar and had thousands of toys, but over the years you had collected a fair amount of little helpers.

By now Lando had switched back to his face, so you could see his little beard and his eyes, he kept biting his lower lip, while watching you.

You opened your box and grabbed the first toy you saw, a standard dildo, it was skin-colored and a bit longer and thicker than the normal ones. You showed it to Lando and he groaned, tilting his head back, ”Is that your favorite?“, he asked.

You shook your head and pulled out a pink satisfyer, it was a mixture of a vibrator and dildo, but it also had a clit sucking element. That one was your favorite, you had spent hours with this beauty, and it never left you hanging. ”This is my favorite, you don’t know how good this feels.“

”Tell me about it.“

”It’s so fucking good, Lando. This clit sucking thing? It feels like heaven, it gets me there within a few minutes, the fastest I‘ve ever had an orgasm.“

”I bet I could get you there faster.“

That statement left you with a smirk, only the thought of Lando going down on you, made your head spin, you needed that.

”I can see that you’re imagining it right now, I bet you taste amazing, I would finger you, while lapping at your clit, you would be so full.“

You shut your eyes, and whined, your pussy clenching around nothing.

”What else do you have in there?“

”I have a wand“, you lifted the typical wand and dropped it on the bed, ”I also have a rabbit vibrator, and this“, you lifted another pink vibrator, but this one was smaller.

”You know what this is for, Lando?“

”I‘ve seen it in porn“, he smirked, ”have you ever let someone control it while being somewhere public?“

You nodded, it was a vibrator that you would insert into your pussy and it could be controlled with an app, you‘ve only used it once with someone.

”I was on a date with someone from Tinder, and we‘d been sexting for days and I gave him the app and he controlled it over dinner, it was an experience and I loved it.“

”I want to control it in our next meeting, seeing you tremble over some video ideas is going to be fucking hot.“

Another wave of pleasure rushed through your body, you couldn’t believe you were talking that way with your boss, unbelievable.

”I want you to use that rabbit on you.“

You chuckled, and held the rabbit vibrator into the camera, ”This one?“

Lando nodded eagerly, with a smirk you opened your mouth, dared your tongue out, and licked a long stripe over the part that goes inside of you. After a few licks, you put it fully in your mouth and started sucking it.

You could see how Lando started touching himself again, his eyes closed every now and then and he let out small whimpers. This was your sign that you needed to touch yourself too, so you laid on the bed and flipped the camera to your lower part, where the vibrator was circling your clit. Lando also flipped the camera and you saw his dick that was already leaking pre cum, he moved his thumb over his tip every now and then while moving his cock through his fist, collecting the white fluid. Due to your wetness, the vibrator slipped inside of you with ease, you turned it on and gasped when you felt the vibrations.

”Do you like that? Having your pussy stuffed.“

”Yes, Lando, yes. I need you here next to me.“

”I need you too, wrapped around my cock, you would be screaming and keeping up the neighbors all night.“

With a loud moan, you could feel yourself getting closer to a release, the tip edging your clit made you almost scream and the way you moved the vibrator in and out of you, made you see stars. Lando also was about to cum, he saw that your pussy got wetter and wetter, your fluids squeezing out of your cunt every time the vibrator left it.

”I’m about to cum, Y/N. Show me your face, are you cumming soon?“

You moaned loudly again and flipped the camera, just like Lando did, “Yes, Lando, I wish it was you filling me so well.“

With a loud moan and a lot of curses, Lando spilled his cum all over his hand and stomach, he quickly flipped the camera again, now showing you the mess he created, “That’s all for you, baby, I wish it was inside of you instead on the stomach. Cum for me Y/N, let go.“

While he said those words to you, you felt yourself falling over the edge, with moans and grunts. Lando was sure he never heard something so sexy, those sounds alone made him horny again, he needed to feel you close.

When both of you came down from your highs, you two let out a laugh, realizing what you just did, you had phone sex with your boss, but it felt right and good, and the way his cum sat on his stomach, made you horny again, you needed him.

“You feeling better now?“

“Lando, you’ve no idea, so much better than the weird Tinder guy the video actually was for.“

“I bet, but I still need you, Y/N.“

“Are you in London?“

He hummed.

“Well, my bed is cold without you in it, if you want, my pussy is ready for you, Lando.“

“Send me your address, I’ll be over in ten minutes, you better not start without me, or you’ll get punished.“

Part two

taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg

[flawless-peach]

activities to improve your life

(in no way do you have to do these or all of them in order to improve, these ade just little things to do to help you feel good about yourself <3)

- go on walks outside, or just get outside in someway. in the summers my boyfriend and I would walk a couple blocks to get a snowcone. now that's its spring I walk to the gas station near by to pick up energy drink for my boyfriend (spring semester)

- wake up earlier, now this one is important to me because I am a huge morning person and so is everyone in my family. but some people aren't naturally morning people. so dont feel like im saying wake up at 5am. I more mean wake up with enough time to enjoy your morning and look forward to the day, you don't want to rush to get ready

- drink an appropriate amount of water, I personally aim for about 60oz now, which I don't hot everyday, but when I first started trying to drink more water I started out with 20oz because I just wasn't drinking water. so don't push yourself because you'll only hate the water rather than appreciate what it can do for you

- journal every day. I normally don't journal about my day until the next morning as I reflect on the previous day, because I don't want the day to "end" before it's actually over. but I try to write reviews about episodes of the shows i like or take notes over my audiobooks and try to think about why I like/dislike them. I find that this helps me so that whenever I start getting emotionally overwhelmed to slow down and put into words what's wrong rather than just being overwhelmed

- working out to feel good rather than look good. I've had a terrible relationship with my body most of my life and so by working out to feel good i have different goals and schedules i followed than when I was trying to lose weight, and it's helping like my body even if it's not changing how it looks. I try to exercise at least 3 days a week, but if I don't feel good enough to i don't force myself (the walks outside are exercise too, so thats also helping me feel good even if I eat a snowcone immediately afterwards ^^)

- positive affirmations. I really struggle with this one, but I have a widget on my phone that rotates through different ones and im liking the ones that are good and at the end of the week in my journal I wrote them all out.

- look for long lasting happiness over short term happiness. this one is a lot harder i just wanted to add it on the end because sometimes I put off doing something I know will make me happy in the end because of short term gratification. I normally feal with this by letting them merge if I can (so like everything shower tiktoks while I get ready for my shower)

[divinesolas]

Not a one time thing

r.q: being friends with benefits, with jace where you both end up drunk at a party and end up having sx and the next day you guys laugh it off and forget abt it. but jace starts to crave you more and first you’re hesitant about it, but then you guys agree on friends with benefits. now you guys js randomly whenever you’re stressed or in the mood and calling eachother in the middle of the night. jace starts to catch feelings and like fights the urge to say ily while they’re doing it. and then they js like end up together idk. but you’re like my fav jace writer rn

w.c: 1k

c.w: slight nsfw, sweet jace, mutual pining, fwb to lovers, cute little drabble, not proofread, written with f!reader in mind but is basically gn!reader

You thought your slip up with Jace would be a one time thing, that after the two of you walk out of the party laughing about it that that would be it. Yet not even two nights later you’re staring down at a “are you up?” text from him. You don’t answer him, texting him back in the morning and saying you had been asleep and asking him what he needed, he had said it was nothing and he ‘figured it out’ but that just left you way too curious.

Yet when he shows up at your house at two am with his puppy dog eyes and a rock between his legs you let him push you on the couch and let him have you once again. When you wake up and he’s making breakfast in your kitchen shirtless you decide to lay down some ground rules to quell the pounding of your heart.

Strictly friends with benefits. No feelings attached. exclusively one another, definitely a rule in place just to avoid stds, no other reason. Arrangement must be broken off is one of you begins to like someone else.

Sounds easy enough. Its a good stress reliever for you, whenever you have a test or your studying is not going as well as expected you give him a ring and he’s quick to show up to take your mind off of it and you do the same for him. It works well, at least for you, but Jace seems to be struggling a lot more then you are.

You can’t tell he is of course. He is good at hiding it, but it begins to grow more and more daunting as he’s thrusting into you, staring at your with heart eyes that you can’t see since your eyes are closed, his thumb rubs affectionally on your jaw as he watches you climax, it’s gotten to the point he has no care for his own pleasure, he gets his fill from watching your eyes rolls in the back of your head.

Four times. It was a new record for him. Four times he almost told you that he loved you. He watches you as you scroll through your phone, oblivious to the internal battle he’s having. You are so beautiful. You haven’t even bothered to put back on any of your clothes, he admires you fully, he had no clue how long he was until you look at him with a raised brow, “You like what you see big guy?”

He loves you.

He simply reaches over and places a kiss on your lips before he lays back down. “What’s that for?” Because i love you. “To shut you up.” You roll your eyes and smack him on the chest. “Says you while staring at my bare chest you perv.”

He thinks he can keep it in for awhile, let his feelings pass. Yet he ends up blowing up. You have been spending a lot more time with cregan. Cregan fucking stark his best friend yet he has never wanted to murder a man more. Why are you walking around and smiling with him? Why did you fucking bail on him one night to hang out with cregan?

“Is this over?”

You turn to him confused, setting down the pizza you had ordered for the two of you down on the table and shake your head, “What are you talking about?”

His posture is rigid, he’s fiddling around with his fingers, he would normally be shirtless but you take notice of the fact he’s wearing a plain white shirt. “Are we over?”

“No? Why would,” You attempt to put it in the words, we seems to intimate despite the fact that's how he worded it, “our arrangement,, end? You like someone?”

“What about cregan? You like him don’t you?” You tilt your head at him and let out a confused laugh. “You mean your best friend cregan? what the fuck are you on about?”

“You said our arrangement ends if one of us starts to like someone else.” “Yes i did, so what you think i like cregan?” “Yes.” This is what breaks you and you laugh, you cover your face in your hands as you turn away and you laugh. “what the are you talking about? No i don’t like cregan. Why would it matter if i did?”

“Because i love you.” You freeze. You turn around quickly to stare at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“I love you. I don’t want to be some stupid arrangement. I want there to be us, we. Together.”

You gulp, you feel your feelings you’ve kept locked down bubbling up to the surface. You have to be rational, he is clearly not thinking straight you know him. “Jace. This is coming from you being jealous you shouldn’t say stuff like that. Hey ill stop hanging out with cregan without you-”

“No. I’m in love with you. This is not because I’m fucking jealous, sure maybe i am but i am so madly in love with you everyday i have to stop myself from professing my love to you from the highest mountain. If I'm saying this because I'm jealous then why do i feel the urge to tell you i love you while you’re withering underneath me. I love you.”

He had made his way over to you. He stands in front of you looking like a kicked puppy. “If you don’t feel the same we should end this. Never speak again, maybe that would kill me but i can’t just keep ignoring how i feel for you any longer.” He tenses in your silence, “Please answer me.”

“I never wanted to get into this arrangement with you because i knew one day i would crack. I ignored your calls and texts because i was so nervous to begin this dangerous game with you because i am so madly in love with you Jace.”

He rushes to cup your cheeks and he pulls you into a kiss. You can feel him grinning against your lips and he must feel the way you’re smiling back.

“Does boyfriend Jace fuck anything different than friend Jace?”

“You’re about to find out.”

perm jacaerys taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife

[nouvxllev]

be my baby, t.r.

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: in which you show your love for jenna in your own way

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: fluff hooray!

a/n: heard this line from my headphones while i was scanning my notes and immediately went for my drafts. just a drabble if you may

masterlist.

When people think of a sacred place, they'd think of something related to religion of some sort. A place of worship and compassion to another, maybe a deity. Or they'd think of something they cherished, the place that they hope one day see in their life after death and see the wonderful memories they'd have.

You were none of the ordinary.

Your sacred place was Jenna. Her soul was everything you wanted. She was everything you needed.

Everyday, she would see through you. Your pride, your anger, your selfishness, and how she accepts you for who you are even for your flaws. How your happiness often shined so bright whenever you were with her. How the stars would shine just for her to be in the spotlight, be the center of everything. Oh, how you were so devoted to her was something beyond you.

Hence why your favorite time of the day is waking up beside her, sliding your arm in between her body, and hugging her as if she were being taken away from you if not for your arms grounding her.

You shifted your weight towards her, your legs going in between hers as you hugged her even tighter. She always smelled like home and the subtle scent of her favorite perfume with a hint of yours, you noticed.

The faint music from Jenna's headphones filled the air, feeling your eyes slowly getting heavy as you nudged your head onto her nape, closing your eyes in full bliss but never slept.

Ever since you moved to her apartment, you saw how Jenna always slept with headphones on, only for it to be way too tangled and off her ears when she wakes up.

Your hands found Jenna's, intertwining them as you looked over her shoulder, the action being reciprocated when you felt her fingers close around your hand. Even when she was asleep, she always held you back as if you were a distant star coming to earth.

The morning sun always complimented Jenna so well, the warmth of the sun casting a gentle glow on her features, how her brown eyes are all what you wish to see, showing you everything there is to true beauty. It is as if she was another celestial object far from a mere mortal with how your world orbited around her very being, how effortlessly she could make every living and dying poet forever ink her name in their pages.

You were about to fall asleep until you heard a quiet groan and her body stirring awake. As Jenna shifted beside you, your arms were still wrapped around her body, loosening as she turned to face you.

"Hey." She whispered. Her fingers tracing patterns across your own hand as she blinked away her drowsiness, a loopy smile gracing her lips. "I thought you'd be up by now."

"I am." You gave her a soft smile while she gave you an unimpressed look, but her smile never wavered.

"I meant off the bed and do whatever you normally do."

"You know I'll always wait for you," you replied in a hushed tone, your hand coming close to her face as you brushed a stray strand of hair away, your thumb gently caressing her freckles.

"I know," she whispered as she nodded, her morning voice always something so familiar to you. "Just thought you'd have a change of heart."

"I'd be a fool to." You met Jenna's eyes with a smile, your gaze going back and forth from her eyes to her lips. Your hand resting on her face traveled to her back, pulling her in closer.

Jenna let out a soft sigh, "Aren't you the smooth talker," she murmured. Her hand finding its way to your cheek, her touch gentle and reassuring as your heart swelled with the sight and love that was Jenna.

You raised your eyebrow, "I'm serious about it."

Jenna laughed. She laughed. Oh, how it made your heart instantly recognize the pattern of her laughter.

"I can tell, don't worry." She said, looking into your eyes with the same expression you had. It was a small gesture, waiting for your lover to wake up in the morning, but it was everything to you. And maybe even to Jenna if not a lot more. She leaned in, pecking you on the lips, "And I love you for it."

You can feel your eyes soften, the subtle rise and fall of Jenna's chest against yours as the warmth of her hand rests on your cheek.

You allowed your eyes to drop down to her lips before leaning in and planting a gentle kiss to her soft lips. The very faint scent of her chapstick from yesterday still lingered as you held Jenna's hand on your face, tracing her knuckles with your thumb.

You pulled away before leaning in and placing another kiss to her lips. "I love you too."

Your hand pulled hers away from your face, intertwining them before kissing her yet again. "I love you more."

"I love you most." You whispered softly as your mind captured the look on Jenna's face that was adorned with pure love. Both of your hands reached to cup her face, kissing her once more, feeling the warmth of her breath against yours.

You can feel Jenna smile against your lips, the gesture driving you to insanity with devotion for this girl.

The both of you pulled away from the kiss, your eyes meeting Jenna's as your heart raptured with laughter as she laughed alongside it. The sound itself making you want to record it deep inside your soul forever.

"What was that about?" She chuckled.

"For every kiss you give me, I'll give you three. The Ronettes." You quoted, a smirk gracing your lips as the faint sounds of her playlist started to play all over again.

Ever since Jenna introduced you to her music taste, you were blasting it non-stop. Though it wasn't exactly the music Jenna would listen to, it was like the one of the many music that you found in her taste in genre and you loved it as much as you loved her presence.

"You liked it?" She mumbled, a hopeful tune in her voice. Another thing you noticed about Jenna is that she loved recommending her own interests to other people and you came to adore that so much.

"Who am I to deny my talented girlfriend with her music taste?"

She chuckled, sitting up straight as she pulled you up towards her, wrapping her arms around your body. "Flattery gets you nowhere."

"Then how come I'm right here in your arms?" You looked up at her, a small smile playing on your lips that seemed to never go away whenever you were with her.

"I don't know," she shrugged nonchalantly, "you tell me."

Jenna's arms around you felt like home, a sacred place you'd always come here after a day or even a decade. It was a place where you belonged to, the embrace that would last along with the faint music that was still playing in the background. In her arms, peace is never a fleeting moment but rather something that'll always keep your heart warm.

Another thing is for sure: you were her one and only, and you'd adore her till eternity.

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

a/n: feel like im slowly getting the motivation to write more

[irasamu]

 . . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 LURE ME IN, PULL ME OUT. SAVE ME ; a osamu dazai fic. ❞

❛ ━━ ･ ❪ did i not die yet?

my heart beats and pumps,

pumps the blood which flows throughout,

though tonight i throw up this blood.

blood coats my hand red,

if i had died, why would i bled?

fleeting through my fingers,

fingers of mine tries to grasp my life,

life which i tried to grasp all this while!

blood coats the floor red,

and red it became the more i bleed.

fleeting is this life though my heart beats,

i am not dead yet, though i bleed.

soon my fate will meet death.

and i will die, won't i? ❫ ･ ━━ ❜

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . i don't really expect this one to be liked as this is an experimental fic anyway but I still want to know your opinion on it if you read it.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; pm!dazai, fem!reader, non established relationship, suggestive themes, kissing, fluff (?), angst, somewhat gore.

the weather hasn't really been the most pleasant since the last three or four hours but you assume it to be normal due to the season it came with.

with a hazy gaze, you stare at the dark grey sky outside as you wait for the first reaction to happen, for the first drop of rain to descend from its grace and onto the hard earth ground.

was this what icarus felt too?

but then again icarus wasn't a teenager in love with a boy who looked at love as not feelings and emotions but rather as chemical reactions and hormones stimulated by the brain.

icarus burned. you do too. perhaps not in the same way but you burn too.

"are you waiting for cats too dear?" a voice so gentle yet tired spoke up and you looked up to see an elderly woman smiling kindly at you. your eyes fell down to see a group of stray cats and you pondered.

her voice felt so warm admist the coldness of the weather that clinged to your skin.

you looked back up at the old woman and nodded, smiling a bit. "yeah. a grumpy one."

the old lady laughed at your words and she approached you, sitting down on the steps of your house next to you and the stray cats followed her. there were five in total, you counted as they surrounded the old lady's feet.

one of the five cats pawed at your leg. you looked down at it and extended your hand to pet it's head before you looked up at the sky again in deep thought.

"so when does your grumpy cat come?" the old lady's voice reached your ears, her words were pure but why did it still feel like she was laughing at you?

mocking you for being so hopeless.

"whenever he wants to." you whisper out. if the old lady wasn't sitting next to you, she wouldn't have heard you. your words were too sad to her though ignorance is bliss. the old lady thought nothing much of your words as she laughed.

"dearie, that's cats for you -- especially stray ones. they come and go. not having a proper house. no owner who showers them with love and so when we give them love, they get confused. they feel weird and dislike it. they leave. and when they are away -- they realize. they want it back. and so these cute furballs come back to get confused again." her words held years of experience. they soothed you and gave you a reason behind the behavior that hurts, effortlessly brightening your mood. it almost felt unnatural how easily her words convinced you and settled within you as if she's luring you in her.

you smiled at the old lady albeit weakly but your lips were tugged upwards by genuine gratitude and hope as you smiled at her, filled with fascination towards her.

"though love is like kummatty or the pied piper of hamelin. it lures you in even when you know it's dangerous. so dearie --" the old lady's voice suddenly dropped down a few octaves as a grave expression took over her old and wrinkled features. you would've have found it a bit unsettling had it not been for the cat at your feet that had your undivided attention. " -- be careful while loving, it'll lure you in one day and . . . even if it isn't love, something else will lure you in."

you felt the old lady shifting next to you before she stood up, causing you to twist your neck to look up at her. the old woman smiled at you kindly and slowly -- as safely as her feeble legs would allow her to -- climbed down the stairs and left. she went on along the sidewalk, though you raised your eyebrows in awe as you saw the five cats following behind her, stumbling and falling over each other. the cats looked like young apprentices following their mentor in olden days where as soon as a kid was old enough to realise how poverty took a liking to his home, he was send off to fend for himself and to bring in some earnings.

you looked at the front again, placing your chin on your knees which were brought near to your chest as you looked up at the sky again, the grey clouds began to clear up a bit though it still looked like it'll rain soon.

the cold breeze made you shiver a bit. though not for long.

you look away from the sky, no longer finding it intresting enough to admire as the images of the cats -- especially the one rubbing itself against your leg -- kept repeating in your mind, making you smile.

how does one get lured?

how does one forget everything and decide to follow a particular path?

"what are you doing outside dumbass?" you hear the cold and void of emotion like voice, causing you to look up to see dazai standing there as he looked down at you with his eyebrows raised, trying to decipher the reason to sit outside during such weather as it's definitely an odd choice.

"waiting for yo --" you stop rather abruptly as you look at him from head to toe to see him covered in blood at many places -- his cheek was stained and so was his white shirt though the black coat hid it well. you looked down and alas so were his boots, stained in blood.

with a panicked urgency, you quickly stood up and grabbed his hand though this time he didn't try to subtly pull it back as he let you step closer to him and leaned in when you placed your palm on his bloodied cheek.

"how did you --"

" -- it's not mine. don't overreact." the mafioso said in a bored tone as he stared at you. he looked at you for a while before he slowly grinned and you wanted to take a step back and shrink into nothingness. that would be better then staring at his cold and empty eyes.

dazai extended his hand to grasp your other wrist, not seeming to mind your sudden stiffness. he had seen this reaction one too many times when curious minds tried to pick apart the mask of the demon but failed, finding the mask glued to the face by some super force.

he tugged at your hand to pull you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hug.

dazai osamu is still a child. he does not act like it. but he is the same as you. a teenager. not even seventeen yet.

he is a child at core like you are and even if it may not seem like it, you'll pretend it does.

"you stink." you mumble as you ignore the nervous pleading of your heart, nuzzling your face against his bandaged neck.

"no i don't." dazai replied back as he left a small and quick peck to your hair before he moved back.

you roll your eyes at his denial of this topic, knowing that even he knows how he smells of a mix of cigarettes and blood, the smell lingers and hugs him like a sick stalker.

"why do you even have blood on you?" you asked as you quickly opened the door to your house and stepped aside to let him enter first. with a smug wink aimed at you, dazai entered and took of his shoes.

for being such a peculiar boy, he did have some manners as evident by the way he placed his shoes at one corner. you placed your slippers next to his and locked the door before you followed after him.

"curious kitty. aren't you?" his voice is full of mirth, he looked over his shoulder to let you see his expression which is full of amusement as if he finds it entertaining to watch you try to get some kind of information out of him.

you grumbled as you pushed his shoulder though he only chuckled, not minding the pushes at all.

dazai tried to walk towards the living room but you grabbed the back of his suit coat to pull him towards your room instead and he exclaimed in surprise, though he didn't resist or fight back, simply letting you drag him as if he didn't have enough energy or interest in pushing your hands off.

you led him to the bathroom attached in your room, dazai nearly raised his eyebrows in amusement but stopped himself since he wasn't really amused enough. this house in which only you live isn't surprising to dazai as through his connections, he had dug into your background and found out that this house and some wealth were the will of your grandfather who left it all to you. your parents were out of the picture.

"but really, why are you covered in this much blood?" you ask as you signal him to sit on the sink counter while you kneel down to open the cabinet below, getting out a few clean towel rolls and bandages.

though the bandage roll fell from your hands and rolled on the tiled floor when dazai grabbed your jaw in a quick movement, pulling you towards him as he glared at you. eyes void of emotions but that only makes him more terrifying.

"you are a good girl -- always were and always will be. don't test your luck by being a curious kitten. stay my good girl. don't ask unnecessary questions." his voice is low and calm, his words coming out in a murmur.

your eyes were open wide, you nodded quickly. the sharpness in dazai's eyes disappeared and was replaced by a sudden softness. he stopped grabbing your jaw and instead raised his hand to cup your cheek. he pulled you in closer using the gentle hold on your cheek and pecked the bridge of your nose.

once he lets go of you, you stepped back, bending down to pick the the bandage roll which you began to buy and keep ever since meeting him.

you stand again as you face him, not looking him in the eye after the sudden cold outburst while the confident and casual air around you had disappeared. and this caused dazai to heave out a sigh.

"what i did -- i did for you." he revealed only this much as if to just let you see the tip of the iceberg, to let you know of the peace lingering above the calmness.

you placed your hand on his thigh as you leaned up to gently pull on the bandage which covered one of his eyes, whispering, "why?"

dazai stopped as you tugged at the bandage and it fell down in your opened palm. he too wonders why is he even doing this?

you are of no use to the mafia.

you don't give him the same reactions as chuuya does.

yet you are still intresting.

is it the feeling of your soft palms as you cup his cheek with one hand while you softly rub the wet towel on his face with the other to clean it? could be.

dazai wrapped his legs around your waist to pull you closer, you felt your heart beating as he cupped both of your cheeks and pulled you to peck your forehead. "i just do."

you wanted to ask many things but refrain from doing so, choosing to enjoy the feeling of his hands as one of them remained cupping your jaw while the other rested near your ass, on your lower back, to keep you in place as you wrap a new bandage around his eye.

to be honest, dazai knew. he knew why he did what he did and does what he does, it's just that he doesn't see the need to tell you the answer which is being yelled by his heart and seeing how you relaxed again and lost some of your initial fear, dazai feels -- no, he knows, that you either know or have a good grasp of what most of his answer could've been anyway.

"you are weird." you decide to sigh out these words with a smile, moving your face back from his grasp as you pull down at his coat and he lets you, letting you take it off.

is the rush of happiness what icarus felt too? perhaps if icarus didn't dream too high, he would be lured into the deep forests as well.

dazai watched with curious eyes. you stepped out of the bathroom for a while, a matching set of grey sweatshirt and sweatpants. the sight makes dazai to raise his eyebrows, a silent order for you to explain.

"you need some colors in your life and wardrobe. you look so edgy wearing that." you point at his suit and dazai almost rolled his eyes, had the thought of you going out of your way to buy something for someone like him had not entered his mind and settled there.

from there on, the thought grew vines which traveled and gripped at his heart.

"did you buy this for me? you want to be my sugar mommy or something?" dazai smirked yet squealed as you stepped near him, grabbing a handful of his skin and pinching him on his thigh. you don't speak much, the words of the old lady repeating in your mind while you unbutton his shirt and scrub at his hands to get the blood off of him.

the way you look so quiet as you seemed to stare at nothing while cleaning the blood made dazai hesitate to break this silence. he looked at you and he felt his heart beat racing when he saw the hazy look in your eyes. behind you, the sky once again grew hazy and dazai glared at the window behind you. yet you didn't notice anything it seemed, too busy in unbuttoning dazai's shirt button by button.

the cat who sat outside at the windowsill snarled in return.

"you are my kitten." dazai began quietly and you looked up at him with puzzlement dancing all over your features. a confused smile takes over your lips and dazai leans near you, you feel your heartbeat racing as he leans his head till his lips hovered above your's. "you are mine and i'll protect you against everything."

dazai closed the distance between you and him, his hand came to hold your waist and pull you towards him. you closed your eyes as you let your feelings overtake you, wrapping your arms around the neck of the boy who still sat on the sink counter.

his eyes remained open, a blue light eliminated from his palm -- of the hand that was wrapped around your waist -- felt like the first drop of rain of despair for the cat whose fur raised and it glared at dazai.

"you don't need to know what i do and why i do it. just stay as you are now." dazai whispered as soon as he pulled back from the kiss, he hopped down from the counter and removed his unbuttoned shirt. he tossed it on your face, not paying heed to the way you groaned.

"stay as i am now? what's that supposed to mean cryptic bastard?" you ask as you slowly walked behind him, stopping as he sits in the bathtub and his feet nearly dangled off the small bathtub. dazai shooted a finger gun at you which made you scoff while you reached for the water faucet, he isn't going to answer, is he?

the cat blinked, like a stalker it's eyes remained even when dazai leaned up and grabbed your forearm to pull you on top of him. your squeals and his laughs were like poison to the cat. the same cat who affectionately rubbed itself against your leg in the morning is the same cat who now watched with great disgust.

icarus flew. if he didn't, he would've drowned.

the pied piper would've lured him in with masks of interests in his dreams. or perhaps kummatty would've made him think to never stop believing in his dreams, he would've have turned him into a bird and icarus would've flew away and never returned.

"stay as you are -- meaning stay as my little kitty cat. can you meow or purr for me?" dazai raised his eyebrows, it always brought him entertaining joy to see your reactions and even if they aren't as loud or amusing as chuuya's, the way you purse your lips and look away after replying with something snarky always stayed at the back of dazai's mind. it repeated whenever he smoked in the loneliness of the shipping container he calls his shelter.

you know better then to take this moment for granted. you look back at dazai and smile tiredly, resting your head against his shoulder as you wrap your arms around his waist and do not mind the flowing water soak your clothes and make you wet for you feel yourself nearly giggling at the way your legs are on either sides of dazai's waist and his hands wrapped around you. when you leaned your body on him, his arms around you tightened their hold.

he raised one of his hands to pat and comb through your hair while he smirked, tilting his head at the cat. said cat snarled at him again before it hopped down your windowsill and left.

the cat walked for a while before it jumped into a drain and immediately found itself sitting on the lap of the old woman who hummed. the old woman moved back and forth on her rocking chair, humming a tune which enchanted many and it was evident by the way children sat by her feet and mimicked her motions of rocking back and forth. their lips sealed tight by threads being sewed yet they tried to hum along with the old woman, causing blood to flow down their chins yet they didn't mind as theu stared at the old lady with unnaturally wide eyes.

the old lady stopped humming and immediately the children stabbed their fingers into their eyes, blood oozing out as they curled their fingers into their eyeballs.

"you are so so cute. my belladon--" you make dazai to stop speaking, making him go speechless when you splashed a bit of water onto him after having enough of his cheesy flirting though it did get your heart to beat faster but the young age you are is one where intimate feelings such as this makes you cower and feel like hiding behind the exterior of pretend coolness. it's a defense mechanism of sorts but dazai has always broken through every defense so what is yours infront of him?

your smug grin disappeared as you saw him cough without intending to stop soon. you leaned closer to his face as you tried to grasp at the curves of his jaws so you would be able to have a better view of his face and check for any damage you may have caused yet the moment your fingers grasp his jaw, dazai grabbed both of your wrists as he leaned forwards to kiss you again. and you let him. his arms came to wrap around you again.

and once again you missed the blue glow they emitted as all you could focus on was the gentle way dazai's hands inched closer to you till one of them rested at your nape and the other at your hip while he left little pecks and kisses on your lips, not pulling or letting you pull back once.

the pied piper or kummatty may just be figures associated with children and to scare them by exaggerating (though is it a exaggeration?) abduction but the old lady you met -- the one who is currently smiling cruelly as she watches children pull out their eyeballs and see the optic nerve -- is one who will try to lure you in and dazai won't let it.

it isn't related to the mafia, the child abducting old lady isn't a concern of port mafia and neither is she a danger to dazai's life. his nullifying ability will act if she ever tries to activate her ability on him which works by the contact of her or her cats with the victim.

though you do not need to know of this or even worry as dazai will make sure you don't end up in the old lady's grasp and don't suffer the same fate as many of her previous victims. he always was a bit more protective and possessive when it came to you anyway.

after all, he is a good boy --- an angel.

[melrodrigo]

The Other Side Of The Door - V.C.

Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader

Summary: Vada’s been a questionable girlfriend lately, and you’ve decided you’ve had enough.

Warnings: Angst, Vada is kinda toxic in this, mentions of drinking

Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: Inspired by TOSOTD by miss t-swizzle herself. I hope u angst monsters r happy, I don’t write angst very often. Also! Did not proofread this, sorry bout that

“Leave.” You say, face stoney and eyes narrowed. You ignore the voice inside of you that says this is a terrible idea.

Your girlfriend blinks back at you, taken aback by the venom in your voice.

Her expression changes from happy to crestfallen in a second, and it takes everything in you to not immediately take back what you’ve just said.

“What is this about?” She asks, eyes wide.

The minute your girlfriend had waltzed into your room, whistling to her favorite Juice Wrld song, she had been met with the sight of you sitting on your bed, arms crossed.

“What is this about? Are you kidding, Vada?” You seethe, too pissed to have any sort of filter anymore.

She gulps.

“How about it’s about the countless times I’ve had to drag you back home because you were drunk shitless, doing god knows what with god knows who, without any explanation whatsoever.” You’re standing up now, sizing Vada up.

“It’s about the amount of times you’ve ignored me this whole week, never answering texts, never picking up my calls. Am I even your girlfriend anymore?” You press, rambling as if everything that’s been pent up inside you for weeks stars spilling out all at once.

Your girlfriend pales as you monologue, eyes darting to lock on anything but your face.

“But-“ She opens her mouth and closes it a couple times, searching for something to say.

You cut her off quickly. Unwillingly to let her have any say in this.

“Quite frankly, I’ve had enough. So if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to leave.” You tell her, pretending you don’t see the way her eyes are starting to water.

She’s as still as a statue for a good minute or two, contemplating what she wants to do. You can practically see the cogs turning in her brain.

One more glare from you has her rushing out your room and downstairs. You can’t help the pang in your chest as you watch her leave. After everything, you still want her to stay.

Stupid girl and the grip she has on me.

Nothing quells your bad mood for the rest of the night. You spend dinner shooting back one word responses to your mom’s inquiries, irritable.

You tuck yourself into bed, check your phone for a message from anyone—okay, maybe you wanted to see if Vada had said anything, but nothing. You huff and pull the sheets over your body, closing your eyes shut and forcing sleep to have its way with you.

-

Somehow, in the morning, you wake up even more annoyed. Whenever you’ve had fights with Vada before, the morning after she’d be all over you; begging for forgiveness and blowing up your phone.

You’re ashamed to admit you like the attention.

Today, nothing. Not a single call or text from your normally oh so talkative girlfriend.

As the day goes on, you start feeling mournful. Regret courses deep through you. You sit and stew in your feelings until you can’t think of anything else.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said all that.

It’s a sad Sunday that’s spent with you staring at cute photographs you’d taken with her months prior, and jumping at the sound of any notification. It’s pathetic, but you need her. You don’t remember how long it’s been since you and Vada have had a day apart.

You’re stuck. You miss her so much, but your stupid pride won’t allow you to text first, or to go find her, because what would you even do? You’d been the one to apologize first too many times. This time, you decide it’s going to be up to Vada.

You sleuth around for the rest of your Sunday. When you finish dinner and storm to your room, your turmoil has turned into spite.

“If you don’t call in the next 5 minutes I swear I’m breaking up with you.” You hiss to the phone, staring intently at Vada’s profile picture, as if she’s just going to pop out of the phone by sheer will of you wanting her there.

After a minute of this, you set the phone down and take a deep breath. You turn your phone on do not disturb and pick up a book. All this drama has you feeling like you need to reconnect with nature a bit.

It’s a book Vada herself had recommended you, which was funny, since your girlfriend barely read shit. You hate to admit she has good taste. You glide through the pages easily, happy for a distraction.

Minutes turn into hours, and before long, you notice that the light is starting to dim down and the sun is starting to set. You also hear the tiny pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof.

You get up and walk to your window, face still buried in your book, and gently ease it open, hoping to find some comfort in the fresh air and smell of wet grass.

What you get is not that. A pebble, the size of your pinky comes hurling, too fast for even your reflexes to react.

It hits you smack dab in the face, making you loosen your grip on the book and dropping it. You groan, rubbing the part of your nose that stings. You hear a tiny oh shit below you and you peer out your window so fast it gives you whiplash.

The sight of Vada standing in the rain, her hair messy and her bike discarded on your tiny front yard brings out a lot of mixed emotions in you.

Finally. Goddamn, finally.

She looks sheepish as she speaks. “I’m sorry!” She squeaks. “I didn’t mean to hit you- I swear. I was just trying to do one of those huge romantic gestures where the guy gets the girls attention by throwing pebbles at her window ya know? But it ended up being kinda fun and I didn’t see you when I threw that one-“ She says, speaking so fast you can barely understand her.

When you don’t answer, it’s almost like Vada remembers what she came here for. She straightens up, wiping her palms on her loose graphic tee.

“I’m sorry. I really am. If you would hear me out, I’ll explain everything. I promise. I’m sorry for not coming to my senses earlier, and I’m sorry for not paying you enough attention. I love you, I’m in love with you; you know that. More than anything.” She yells, almost screams so you can hear her clearly.

You feel your walls crumble immediately. How were you going to deny your sweet, loving, albeit sort of confusing girlfriend of your love? It was no use. She always wins when it comes to you.

You sigh.

Vada waits patiently, shifting on her feet and shivering slightly from the cold.

You gesture for her to come in with your hand, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at the joy that sparks across her face immediately.

She sprints in, saying a quick hello to your mom- who probably heard everything, and runs up the stairs, practically tackling you onto your own bedroom floor.

She’s soaked, and you can already feel the water seeping through your own shirt, but you don’t care. Vada’s wrapped herself tight around you, like a baby koala. She’s trembling slightly, and you notice she’s crying.

You place your hand on top of her head, rubbing gently. You murmur sweet nothings into her ear.

She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes all red and puffy. She looks so pretty like this.

“I missed you so much.” She gushes.

You grin lazily, happy to have your girlfriend back in your arms.

“I missed you too, baby.”

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Being in a relationship with the Fontaine Women

characters: Charlotte / Furina / Lynette / Navia x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none, just fluff

genre: Mostly fluff, with a bit of comfort added in Navia’s part

a/n: I decided to leave out Clorinde bc I honestly don’t have any concrete headcanons about her, mostly because she was only there for like 3 scenes and said a total of like 2 sentences. I will write for her, but I still need time to read more about her.

I tried to keep this at least a bit headcanon-y, but you know me, so I decided to add a small scenario to every character’s part, mostly just one’s I felt served as good examples of how things might be and that I didn’t feel like I’d get the chance to write in the future.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Charlotte

With Charlotte, days on which nothing happened were rare. There always was some sort of event going on somewhere, and wherever it was, the journalist wasn’t far away, dragging you along with her. But just because you were there for work, didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy yourselves, especially with someone as energetic as her.

Trying to hold secrets from her, be they good or bad, quickly proved to be futile. She was a Journalist after all, so slowly digging up information to eventually figure out the truth was part of her being. That being said, getting informations through investigating always felt more rewarding to her than getting them served on a silver platter, so it quickly became routine between the two of you to give each other only a few hints instead of normally announcing news… something that, to the misfortune of others around you, quickly also seeped into your conversation with your friends and family.

“‘Man trips and falls down stairs at the opera house’? No, why would anyone read an article when they get all of the information via the headline?”, you suggested before quickly discarding your idea, causing Charlotte to sink further into her thoughts.

“Ooh, how about ‘Tragic accident at the opera house leaves man injured’?”, just as quickly as the words left her mouth, the two of you gave each other an energetic high-five before Charlotte continued to map the article out loud, only for a weird feeling to slowly wash over you… as if there was something important you were forgetting.

“Isn’t today the premier of that thriller you wanted to write an article about?”, you asked, only for Charlotte to stop talking in the middle of her sentence, her eyes widening as she quickly glanced towards the clock.

“You’re right! These clothes should be good enough for the opera house right? Ah, who am I kidding? Nobody cares!”, words began shooting out of her mouth in a panic as she grabbed you by the wrist and started dragging you towards the Aquabus, pen and notebook in her other hand.

…Somehow, be it by the grace of your Archon or Charlotte’s insistence the Aquabus drove at twice its intended speed, the two of you managed to get there in time.

Furina

The Hydro Archon had an… interesting way of showing her affection. The performance she liked everyone thinking was the real her too fond of the dramatic to do so in a normal way while the real her was too easily flustered to go through with anything fancy. And so, it inevitably became your responsibility to initiate anything even slightly romantic.

Just because she was nervous however, didn’t mean Furina’d drop her usual act and with the way she behaved and talked whenever others were looking could easily fool people into thinking your dynamic was the other way around.

There weren’t many moments in which the two of you had the chance to be alone in public, with the Archon either surrounded by a few of the gardes or swarmed by the citizens of Fontaine. So when you wanted to visit your home in the countryside, Furina was quick to decide that she’d indulge you with her presence, choosing to keep silent about how she was happy to leave the city behind for a day.

If Furina’s uncharacteristic silence wasn’t enough to make you feel like there was something wrong, the look on her face would have made any doubts in your mind dissolve. Just as you had opened your mouth to say something however, you were interrupted by the feeling of something grabbing your hand, all the while the Archon's face was slowly painted red.

“Are you feeling fine Furina? Your face is-”, you were quick to tease, unable to hide your amusement as it was all written over your face. Furina however, did not look up, quickly cutting trying to cut you off, only for her own feelings to be betrayed by a crack in her voice.

“The sUN- I- Thanks for your concern, my dear companion, but there’s no need to worry. I’m fine, just a bit warm, the sun is scorching hot today after all”, she quickly stuttered out before putting on her act once again, hiding her face by looking away from you, only to quickly find herself engulfed in shadow as you put a parasol over her, greeting her with a smile when she finally looked back at you.

As the way to your destination was once again filled with silence, your eyes eventually landed on a hill covered in rainbow roses, causing you to quickly drag Furina from your actual path.

“Where are you going!?”, she managed to ask, only shy away for a moment when you suddenly shoved one of the roses in front of her face.

“Be careful when taking it, it’s really easy to prick oneself's on their thorns”, you spoke with a genuine smile, only for it to quickly contort into a teasing one when you saw her blush even further.

“I should have brought a better parasol, this one doesn’t seem to be working”, you joked, causing Furina to fire back with some sort of excuse. You didn’t care too much, the sight of her scrambling to regain her composure was too cute for you to do anything but silently observe it.

The rest of your journey was rather uneventful, as was your way back. What was of interest for many citizens of Fontaine however, was the rainbow rose their archon wore for the rest of the week 

Lynette

To call Lynette a romantic would have been enough to net yourself a serious defamation case. She wasn’t her brother, who did and said all kinds of embarrassing stuff while putting on a mask, so while the two of you may have been in a relationship, most normal people wouldn’t be able to tell. So while you shouldn’t expect to see her showing her love to you in broad daylight, that didn’t mean that you didn’t get any special treatment.

On days where there was nothing to do, it had gotten somewhat common for Lynette to come over to your place, using it as a place to recharge her batteries when there was too much going on at home. So as you silently sat on your couch, reading a novel you had recently bought, while Lynette laid next to you, with her head placed on your lap, eyes closed as she relished in the calm atmosphere, the sound of the door suddenly swinging open was enough to give you a small heart attack.

“Pardon the intrusion, but have you seen my dear siste-”, Lyney’s voice rang through the room before his gaze eventually landed on the two of you, eyes instantly widening. “Oh sorry, I didn’t know I was interrupting something.”

Just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone, and while you liked to think that it normally took quite a bit to get you to blush, you could feel your cheeks quickly heat up. Was it because of his tone, his smirk or some weird combination of both, you didn’t understand, all you knew being that Lynette’s brother always found a way to make you feel embarrassed about even the most boring scenes.

“Should we-”, you quickly looked down at Lynette and began to talk, only for her to quickly finish your sentence for you.

“‘Try catching up to him’? I don’t think that’s necessary”, she stated matter of factly, her eyes not opening for even a split second before continuing to hum to herself.

“It seemed like he was looking for you, maybe he was just worried where you were?”, you asked, quickly getting a response in the form of a shake of her head.

“I told him I was visiting you. If I had to take a guess I’d say he was just passing your home and decided to quickly mess with you.” Her explanation made more sense than you’d like to admit, it wouldn’t have been the first time he decided to do things simply to try and get some amusement out of your reactions. However, you didn’t like the way Lynette made it sound like getting a reaction out of you was something that required so little effort.

“Sure it wasn’t you he was trying to mess with?”, you asked teasingly, only for her to finally open her eyes as a small smile found its way onto her lips.

“More than certain, redcheeks.”

Navia

Navia had always been easy to get along with. She was intelligent, funny and could single handedly lighten up the mood in any room, possessing an amount of self-esteem that was charming without coming across as her being full of herself. To use her own words: Who wouldn’t treasure having a partner like her. And while there were times her work as leader of Spina di Rosula kept her too occupied to see you much, she made sure to use her time with you to the fullest.

Was it eating at the Hotel together once in a while, or going on a walk around Poisson and Fontaine, taking in what remained of its colorful landscape while simply chatting the day away. Whether the subject of your conversation held any importance or you simply joked around, didn’t matter. Having each other by your side was enough to make any day a good one in retrospect.

There was a time you used to fear visits to the cemetery with Navia. It wasn’t like you didn’t want her to be sad whenever you visited, it was her fathers grave after all, but seeing her knees grow weak as she tried her hardest to keep a brave look on her face made your heart sting as if it had been pierced with a knife. It had been that way each and every time, no matter if it had been a week after his death or two years… But not this time.

As the two of you arrived at the grave, you glanced over at Navia, fully preparing yourself for what you might witness once again, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. Instead, you found her silently smiling to herself and as you followed her gaze, your eyes eventually landed on a pair of candles placed next to the grave, causing your lips to form into a smile as well.

“Looks like Silver and Melus were here before us”, you noted, only for her to shake her head in response.

“Melus told me he wouldn’t be able to visit the grave until later… And well, you know Silver. I doubt he’s the kind of guy to light candles.”

Callas the Unfaithful no more. You might not have known her father that much, only seeing him a couple of times, but you had no doubt that the one who raised Navia would never have murdered anyone for any reason. 

Before you had the chance to lose yourself in your thoughts even more however, you were brought back to the real world by Navia’s voice.

“You still have the flowers?”, she asked, only for you to carefully grab them from your bag and present them to her, handing her one before putting the other in front of the grave. “Thanks. I’m sorry, but could you leave me alone with him for a moment? I’d like to tell him the good news”, she asked only for you to quickly nod.

“Thank you, you’ve been a great help today. I love you”, she told you with a smile.It wasn’t like her usual, radiant ones, instead being much smaller, but it was genuine, and that was the only thing that mattered.

[the6thpaladinofvoltron]

Sephiroth and Female Reader: A Short Excerpt-Crisis Core Era.

The moment Sephiroth himself brought you on board as a new recruit, a connection instantly tethered you two together. It was quite a mystery; because aside from Genesis, Angeal, and Zack, the silver soldier wasn't known to bond with others so quickly.

You rose through the ranks under Sephiroth's wing (no pun intended), spending hours training together, going on missions together, and chatting in your rare off time. So much so that fellow Soldiers started calling you Sephiroth's Girl.

"Hey there, fellow Cadet!" Zack, the Puppy Soldier, scampered up to you. "Hojo wants to see you in the lab."

You inwardly shiver hearing that name, but begrudgingly agree to see what that horrid scientist wants.

You despised Hojo. Mostly because you were able to see just how uncomfortable Sephiroth was in the doctor's presence, and you came to the conclusion that Hojo must've done some violating things to your friend. That and Sephiroth made sure that for any medical checkups, Hojo was allowed nowhere near you.

And the irony, on your way down, you passed by the silver soldier as he was headed in the same direction. And he immediately took notice of this.

"Don't tell me that Hojo requested your presence at the lab too?"

"...Yes." You slowly answer, suspicion creeping into your brain. "He has. What does he want you for?"

Alarm bells rang in Sephiroth's head. Hojo must've noticed how close he was getting with you. He grabbed your wrist rather hard and started leading you away from the elevator.

"Ouch! Sephiroth, hold your horses! What are you doing?"

He tugs you into a training room and taps in a code to lock the door before answering.

"Don't freak out, but there's only one reason why Hojo would call both of us into his office. That monster..."

You can see Sephiroth's body convulse as he struggles to get the words out. And it clicks. You start to feel rage simmer at the base of your gut.

"That lunatic wants to... breed us?! UGH! No, no, a million times no, I am not letting that quack use me to violate you!"

Sephiroth isn't surprised that you managed to piece it together, you were very clever when it came to figuring out problems.

"There you go again putting me first, Cadet. Your body matters too, you know, and I am not letting Hojo get his hands on you."

You notice something, something different, an intensity in those blue/green eyes that you've never seen before. Sephiroth was always protective of you, but now, of all times, you start to question why.

"Sephiroth? ...I have to ask, why me? I mean, I really appreciate everything you've done for me, but why? I'm just your average Soldier."

"...Cadet, you're more than that."

Sephiroth hesitated. He was scared. Scared that if he told you why he cared about you, that you would disappear just like Angeal and Genesis. But he had to, you wanted an answer.

"The day I selected you out of dozens of candidates for Shinra, I didn't know yet just how much you would mean to me. You treat me as a human, Cadet; not a hero to live up to, not a celebrity to admire, and not a test subject to poke and prod whenever you feel like it. I'm your equal, your friend... You help me feel normal."

You stare at your friend, unable to form words. But, your body moves on its own, your arms encircling Sephiroth and pulling him into a hug. And from the way you feel his arms grab onto you and his body relax, it seems he really needed this.

"Sephiroth... I promise... I'm gonna try my best to always be there for you. And if Hojo ever tries anything, can I borrow your sword to skewer him?"

The silver soldier chuckles softly.

"Sure you can. And... I promise to try to always be there for you in return. I won't let anything hurt you."

[lou-struck]

Distracting

Keiji Akaashi x reader

College AU!

WC: 2k

~ Thanks to the new library aid, your once quiet study spot has become much more… Distracting

a/n: sorry I have been gone for so long, it's been hard to do things lately. I hope you like this one. I tried to make it cohesive but when you start something and stop it in bi-weekly intervals you tend to loose yourself a bit in the process.

There is always that one damn professor who takes an extra step to make their course more challenging for students for no reason in particular.  

Yours is your history professor, known throughout the campus as Dr. Asshole. He is known for handwriting confusing exam questions and surprise Pop Quizzes on material chapters ahead of the assigned reading.

His newest pretentious obsession is assigning massive papers and requiring that his students research the whole thing using non-digital sources. This wouldn't be an issue normally, but your university is in the middle of nowhere, and there are at least a hundred students in this particular class. Which means every desperate student looking to raise their grade will be flocking to the library trying to find as many sources they can.

As soon as your class and you start your usual walk to the university's library, your usual study spot, and hope it will be the goldmine of information you need it to be. 

The sliding glass doors part for you as you enter. The faint smell of books wafts under your nose as you enjoy the natural sunlight that streams in through the glass skylights. The quiet, studious atmosphere lacks the noisy distractions that are back at your place. The air is comfortable, not too warm, and not too cold.

Your usual table is bare and sun-soaked under the glass skylights. Your book bag slides stiffly down your shoulder, and you wonder if it would be a good idea to leave it unattended for a few minutes.

Your eyes scan the room. There are a few students lounging in the corner on some large beanbags, Little white earbuds snug in their ears as they scroll through their sleek, thin, laptops. You see the back of one of the Library assistants slowly pushing a cart of books down a lowly lit aisle. 

Your gut tells you that you can trust the small group of randos. You set your bag down on the table so you can begin your search for academic materials. Slowly, you make your way down the rows of books. The space has never looked cleaner; all the selves, even the hard-to-reach ones, are free of dust, and as you flip through possible sources, you notice that someone has taken the time to smooth out previously dog-eared pages and pluck out the old bookmarks. 

After only searing the shelves for a few minutes, you have an uncomfortably tall stack of books in your arms. 

For balance, you stretch your chin out to steady the stack as you start to walk back to your table. The smooth laminate of the book jackets causes your literary mountain to quake as you shuffle through the shelves. Your arms burning from the weight as you turn a blind corner. 

There's a crash

There's some cursing

And you are on the ground…The books clattering to the floor around you as you wonder how you ended up face to carpet. 

Books are scattered all around you as a hand comes into your peripheral. It extends itself toward you as if it was trying to help you up.

"Are you alright!? I am so sorry." the voice of its owner says. Their voice laced with genuine concern as you take in the worried face of and the dark, slightly-messy hair of Keiji Akaashi. You know him as the setter for your university's Volleyball team. 

You have only ever seen him with his friends walking to practice or from the stands whenever you make it to a home game. Never up close like this. He is so handsome that you wonder if you hit your head during your fall to have just noticed it.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks again, and you realize that you haven't answered him at all. You must've been too busy admiring how great the lean athlete looks in his cream-colored sweater.

"Yeah," you reply, taking his hand and allowing him to help you to your feet. "I'm all right."j

"Really?' His blue eyes are looking you over again as if he doesn't believe you.

You know your head and give him a sweet smile. "I'm positive. I'll take a whole lot more than a book cart to take me out."

"That's a relief." he chuckles, "I guess I got a bit distracted earlier." his gaze casting downwards slightly. They embarrassingly land on a half-open book, which must be the cause of this whole thing. 

"Pride and Prejudice?" you muse, craning your neck to view the title. "Good choice. I'd get distracted too."

"It's a great book." he sighs, "But I should've been paying more attention to where I was going. Especially with the cart, those wheels are stubborn." 

You look at the cart behind him and find yourself agreeing with him. The library may have been renovated fairly recently, but those carts were not included in the remodel. "I see what you mean; they certainly have seen better days." Your fingers reach out to gently tug at the peeling top layer of paint on the cart. The tan color covers up chipped and uneven coats of grays and black from years past. 

It brings a silly smile to your lips when you think about the similar paint job covering the light switches back at your rental. College housing does not have the highest caliber or repairs, and so it is often subjected to the 'landlord special.'

You notice that he is watching you, his blue eyes scanning your features like he is reading a book. They flicker from your eyes to your mouth as if he is trying to discern what you are thinking at that moment. 

This careful attention isn't creepy at all. It's rather endearing. Especially coming from someone as blatantly attractive as Keiji Akaashi. 

Your cheeks burn with embers of youthful bashfulness, and you hope that he doesn't notice.

"Oh wow, you were really carrying a lot of books," he comments, looking away from you long enough to notice your stack of fallen library books. Without any hesitation, he crouches down and begins gathering the pile for you. 

"You think so?" you ask. "I still don't know if I have enough for my assignment." the somber tone of your voice causes the library aide to inspect the large stack of books in his arms.

"Let me guess, you have Dr. Asshole this semester." he chuckles dryly. "I had him last spring."

"He's really the worst," you chuckle. "I just want to get this paper over with before everyone is fighting over the same three books."

"I remember that," he laments, "Bokuto- uhh, my friend was in that class for about one hour before he dropped it. I think that was the smartest thing he has ever done."

"I think I'm a bit too stubborn to drop." you chuckle, holding your arms out to take the books from his sweater-clad arms. 

"And I'm a bit too stubborn to give these back to you." he glances at the tables behind you. "Where are we taking these?" 

"I- can take them back myself," you say defiantly, a light playfulness to your tone.

"I'm sure you can. But it's the least I can do after running you over with a book cart."

"It's hard to argue with that logic. My spot is right there." you point to your lonely table as he follows behind you. Easily carrying the stack of books you had selected. 

Having a gorgeous man carry your books was something you thought only existed in coming-of-age rom-coms (or whatever). But now that it's happening in real life, you can't say that the experience is not enjoyable.

"Is there alright?" he asks, gesturing to the tabletop. When you nod, he sets the pile down at your spot and notices that there is a student waiting by the checkout counter, their fingers drumming impatiently against the wood. Keiji sees them and lets out a deep sigh, "I guess I have to get back to work, but if you need any help finding more books for your paper, I'd be more than happy to help."

You hate that this little moment, whatever it was, is over. But you understand that he has a job to do, and so do you. "Thank you, I will definitely let you know if my pile is too small."

He smiles so genuinely at your words that you start to wonder if him hitting you with that book cart is one of the best things to ever happen to you. 

As he walks away, you get settled into your seat and take the first book from your pile. Your eyes scan over the crinkly, water-damaged pages without really processing anything. 

How could you think about anything other than Keiji Akaashi, the volleyball-playing, sweater-wearing, snarky library assistant who keeps glancing over at you from his desk?

You hide your smile with the palm of your hand, determined to pretend to be engrossed in your studies.

~

Half an hour later, you have not made any progress on your paper at all. Your poor, distracted brain tries to read those tiny words. But you can't comprehend anything. So you're just staring down at the pages with a furrowed brow.

It's not your fault, really…

It's his…

You wonder if he takes pleasure in distracting little old you. 

As if to test this theory of yours, you shyly glance back over at the checkout counter only to make direct eye contact with Akaasi. His blue eyes shine almost mockingly as if to say, 'I caught you.'

You look back at your incomprehensible book, trying to make your movements as natural as possible. But from the corner of your eye, you notice that he's coming over. 

"Someone just turned this one in," he says, placing a well-loved book at the top of your pile. "I thought it would help you with your paper."

"Thank you." you beam, not realizing that your empty page of notes is shining up at him. 

"It's not a problem." he smiles. 'You may want to move on from that one; it doesn't seem to be giving you anything useful."

He caught you. You feel that familiar, embarrassing heat creeping its way up your neck. You shake it away and look at him with a reassuring smile.

"Masterpieces take time." you chuckle, "What would Dr. Asshole say if he found out I rushed through this precious little paper of his."

He leans against the wood. "There's a difference between taking your time and getting distracted." the way he murmurs that last word sends the butterflies resting in your stomach flying all over the place. Their imaginary wings tickle your heart as they travel upwards.

"Just watch." you grin, taking a new book off of your pile. "I am about to make so much progress."

"I'll believe it when I see it," he says, turning to walk back to his table. You may not notice it, but the tips of his ears are flushed a deep shade of pink as he glances back at you from over his shoulder.

Determinedly, you read away. Jotting down little bits of information with a newfound energy. Cute library aides may be distracting, but passing this class is a bit more important at this moment.

You manage to get a decent amount of work done before your water bottle runs dry. 

The warm air makes studying without it rather uncomfortable, so you grab the cylinder and take it to the water fountain near the bathroom. 

By the time you come back to your spot, you notice a little blue notecard on your tabletop taped to a pack of gum.

Sorry again for running you over. I had to go to practice, but I hope this makes up for it. - K. Akaashi

In this moment, you couldn't care less about the gum. How could you when his phone number is carefully printed at the bottom of the card?

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[gingerlee-holds]

Letting Off Steam

this is a bday fic for @littleleesblog!! my first steps into the hazbin writing community heehee! idk if people like this one, ill write sequels about him getting charlie (me), angel, idk we'll see

btw yada yada this is a tword fic- Ler!Alastor Lee!Lucifer

Word Count: Reading Time: Warnings: Idk, swearing? Alastor bein a lil shit? barely any editing?

If you prefer a quieter living space, perhaps the Hazbin Hotel isn’t for you. Loud arguments and the commonplace occurrence of walls being blown in could make for a very harsh experience on the ears - not to mention the frequent singing. There were, however, a few locations at the hotel where it’s quiet, such as Charlie’s room, the library, and, shocking nobody, Alastor’s radio station, located on the far northern side of the hotel on the very top floor. Whenever Alastor got the chance, he stayed in that room for as long as possible during the day - usually to avoid being roped into the shenanigans of the other hotel residents. 

On one particular day, however, it seemed like the radio demon couldn’t catch a damn break.

Charlie had called him to the lobby at 7 AM to settle a disagreement between Vaggie and Angel regarding “Breakfast Booze” at the bar. Then, not an hour later, Lucifer was badly practicing the accordion in the lounge. This was followed shortly after that by the TV demon, Vox, interrupting Cherri’s favorite show to deliver a laughably defamatory news segment on Alastor’s performance in his fight with Adam, accompanied by such phrases as ‘pussied out’ and ‘spineless.’ It should come as no surprise that he was already stressed when Charlie cheerfully gathered everybody in the lobby. His entire face hurt with the exertion required to keep a smile.

“Okay, everyone,” Charlie began. I was thinking, what better way to celebrate the grand opening of the newly refurbished hotel than by playing hide-and-seek?” She did a little twirl as she finished, trying vainly to excite her friends. 

Angel Dust raised his hand and, not waiting to be called on, asked, “How the hell does that follow?”

Undeterred, Charlie continued. “Hide and seek is a game that requires exploration! We put a lot of work into rebuilding this place, so we should try to enjoy it! Now, who would like to seek first…?”

A hunt. Oh, what luck that on such a poor day as that, Alastor could finally stretch his legs a little and do what he did best: scare the living daylights out of people! His smile widened, and his eyes squinted like a shark when blood was in the water. He stepped forward with perfect posture as always, resting his hand on his cane. “I would be delighted to!”

“No-” Both Lucifer and Husker had begun to protest, but Charlie clapped her hands with glee. Everyone knew she was just happy to have someone invested in her activities. 

“Perfect! Count to sixty, and then come look for us!”

“Oh, splendid.” The radio demon casually walked over to the wall, closing his eyes as if it mattered. Hands resting on his cane, he chuckled softly to himself. “One.” He heard silence behind him. “Two.” Again, he heard nobody move. 

‘They must not be taking this seriously,’ he thought. Gradually, the sound of radio static began to hum through the lobby as Alastor’s antlers grew larger. 

“Three.” Still nothing.

‘I won’t let them ruin this for me, not after today. Drastic measures, then,’ Alastor thought. He cleared his throat innocently. Then a deer call echoed around the room as he turned his head all the way around on his neck, eyes the shape of bright red dials and smile of sharp teeth impossibly wide.

“FOUR.” 

It had its intended effect. All of the hotel’s residents yelped various exclamations and expletives and took off in every direction, unsure if they were now hiding for their victory in the game or their lives. 

Alastor chuckled softly and turned back towards the wall, appearing normal again. He continued counting, interspacing the numbers with tunes he remembered from a past life, patting his cane to the rhythm. ‘I really should sing more often. It’s a shame I don’t often get the chance,’ he mumbled. Alastor knew he would find each hider eventually - after all, he had a lot of practice with hunting overlords - but Charlie had not mentioned a time limit, meaning he would take his sweet time to savor the silence and the hunt. When he finished counting, he decided to be a bit theatrical and sent a shockwave through the ground at the tap of his cane, instantly turning off every light in the hotel. He turned, smiled eagerly, and sank into the ground as a shadow, moving through the darkness like a cloud of smoke. ‘Now… who to look for first?’

-

Lucifer Morningstar, king of hell, didn’t realize how fast he was flying until about a minute after Alastor’s little scare. It upset him a little to discover how easily startled he had been, especially since he had easily beaten Adam, who had easily beaten Alastor. He sighed in annoyance as the lights above him went out, and to keep from flying into a wall, he flew to a stop, landing gracefully on the ground. With a subtle flap, his wings glowed softly, surrounding his hallway with a gentle golden light. He walked forward, not looking for a hiding spot. He had a feeling that that didn’t matter.

He suddenly felt a chill on his back. Lucifer whirled around, staring closely into the dark hallway behind him. Sensing no movement, he huffed and walked backward a bit, turning back around only to walk into the chest of the radio demon, letting out an indignant squawk.

“Ah, your highness! It seems you were the first to be found! You’re not very good at this, you know~!” Alastor said in that smug tone. 

“Well, Mr. What’s-His-Name,” Lucifer replied as he wiped off the front of his suit before confidently resting both hands on his apple cane. “I’ll have you know I’m only doing this to make my daughter happy. I don’t fear you, busboy.”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed in determination. There was no way he was letting any of the other hotel residents come out on the other side of this activity willing to mess with him. That meant attitude-correcting. “You know I mean no disrespect, your highness!” he said, twirling his cane in one hand while adjusting his tie. “I simply had higher expectations of you!”

“As did I for you! I cannot believe my Charlie put her faith in you of all demons to keep her safe. You had one job, and you-” Lucifer stopped when Alastor sank into the shadows again, disappearing. “Typical.” The king began walking forward again, doing all that he could to give off the impression that he wasn’t scared, but all the effort in the universe couldn’t have held back the squeak that came to his lips when he felt a poke to his side. 

“Oh, my~! Someone’s a little on edge~!” came a delighted voice from the darkness. Lucifer growled in frustration and extended his wings to make the hallway as bright as daylight. Unfortunately, this is what Alastor intended, which Lucifer soon discovered when he felt claws scribbling in the pits of his wings, right on the sensitive area where they connected to his back. “Now, what an unfortunate weakness for royalty to possess~!”

Lucifer squealed, buckling over and landing on his knees on the floor. Alastor had suspected that the fallen angel was ticklish since Charlie was a walking tickle spot, but verifying it like this was nothing short of delicious for him. 

“Youhuhu- youhuhuhu lihihihittle-! Cuhuhut ihihit ouhuhut!” Lucifer’s strength had left him for some reason, and he found himself powerless to defend himself from the radio demon’s attack. Giggling like a child, he tried in vain to reach around behind him to swat away the attack, but this only opened him up more. Alastor’s claws zipped around and wriggled into his ribs, causing the king to let out an outrageously embarrassing squeal. He swung around to free himself, extending his wing to fling back the demon. It made no contact as he landed with a thump on his back, his hat tossed aside. 

“Ah, ah, ah~! I have to make sure you play the game better next time! After all, it’s only fair that there should be consequences for losing, especially being the first to lose!” From beneath him, hands grew from the floor to scribble into Lucifer’s wing pits again, making the fallen angel arch his back in surprise. 

“DahAhahahamn yoUhUhuhUuHU!” he laughed, kicking his feet a little. He reached back again to defend himself, only to be met by his apple cane, quickly used to pin his elbows to the floor with a yelp. 

“Fell for it again~! Tsk, tsk, your highness! We all must learn from our mistakes here at the Hazbin Hotel~!” Alastor suddenly materialized in front of him, leaning casually against his cane as he smugly observed the plight of the king of hell. 

“Yeah, well, you’re a-” Lucifer’s taunt was cut off by his shriek when shadowy hands grew from the ground to wriggle their fingers against his ribs. Alastor’s cooing was absolutely not helping, and it took everything in him not to whine when he felt the hands undo his coat and vest, leaving him in his plain undershirt. 

“There we are, now to teach you a lesson!” Alastor watched as his shadow hands continued their evil work, relishing every second of the king’s humiliation. He had ghostly digits wiggling against the ribs, scribbling in the wing pits, and he had just summoned two more hands to squeeze experimentally on the thighs, making Lucifer squeal like Angel’s pig. The fallen angel’s wings flapped on the floor, but his arms were pinned, keeping him firmly grounded. 

Alastor smirked and stepped forward, leaning down to wiggle a claw against the king’s belly. “You’re far too precious to act all tough, Your Highness! Don’t worry, I’ll let the others know about this discovery of mine~!” With that, he stood tall, straightened his suit, and turned to walk away, fading into the hallway’s darkness. 

“D-dohoHohn’t youhu fu-fuhuhuhCKING-!!” Lucifer couldn’t even get the words out as one final hand scribbled along his collarbone. He could do nothing but lie there on the hallway floor and laugh, hoping that Alastor would eventually have mercy. It might be a while before then since he was the first one found. Maybe he would have to put more effort into hiding next time… 

Read the next part here!

[stevie-petey]

oh also,,, whenever you wanna write. chap 6 steve & robin pov blurb because i am so sure steve would be going on and on about bug once she left so my soul needs that thank you <3

im kicking myself idk why i didnt include this scene in the chapter like its PERFECT for what i have planned later but ,,, for now all i can do is make it a blurb n tell people to read it lmao

enjoy <3

"it didnt matter that you were an ass. i was still... obsessed with you." robins confession hangs in the air. her back is pressed against steves as they lay on the floor, bound together. his eye stings and his nose is numb and crusted with dried blood. he isnt sure why shes telling him this.

"even though all of us losers pretend to be above it all, we still just wanna be popular. accepted. normal."

the rope around steves wrists tense. he clenches his fists and bites the inside of his swollen cheek. acceptance. he thought he had that, once. when he was sixteen with a crowd of people who wouldve done anything for his attention.

now hes eighteen and the crowds bruises still tinge his body.

"if it makes you feel any better, having those things isnt all that great. seriously." it took him a long time to learn that. to recognize that his acceptance was merely a precedence. it wasnt real friendship. he wouldnt learn this until he met you, until you taught it to him. "it just baffles me. everything that people tell you is important, everything that people say you should care about, its all just... bullshit."

bullshit. nancy taught him that, too.

"its all just bullshit, it was so obviously bullshit. i was an idiot for not realizing it sooner," steve bites the inside of is cheek again. somehow, his lips remained untouched when he was being beaten by the russians. your lips still linger on his. "you know, the only person who saw through my bullshit was y/n. one day, before we knew about monsters and russian lairs, she said that she knew i wasnt a bad person. it... it stuck with me. here she was, y/n henderson, telling me i wasnt so bad."

"and then...?" robin is almost too afraid to press him further. shes never seen him like this, vulnerable and open. she didnt know that his history with you went beyond just a summer fling.

steve nudges his head back and sighs. "i messed up. i... i hurt people. people she cared about."

robin frowns. you wouldnt forgive someone so easily for that. theres more to what steve is saying, she just cant figure out what. "she must really love you, then. if she forgave you."

"i dont know if she loves me, but i know that she believes in me. sees someone worth putting up with." he huffs, he cant believe he will never see you again. he hates that he will never be able to thank you for seeing a version of him that no one else could. "it wasnt until i messed up that i realized she saw something in me. its ironic, isnt it? but i guess you gotta mess up to figure things out, right?"

he had to mess up to realize that he loved you, too.

"i hope so. i feel like my whole life has been one big error." robin admits. its the least she could do, offer steve a piece of herself in return for what hes offered her.

an unattractive snort escapes steve. he laughs, and his shoulders shake against robins. he understands exactly what she means. "yup."

"god, i wonder how y/n does it."

"does what?"

robin pauses, worries that she might reveal too much. but its steve. if theyre going to die together, he deserves to know. he has to know. "shes always able to see the error in people and love them anyways."

steve is quiet. he lets what she said settle over him. its what he loves the most about you. how youve always managed to see the good in people, even in someone as cruel as billy. he hadnt known that robin noticed this kindness in you, too.

she seems to understand you in a way only he and jonathan do.

"you know, i wish id known you in clicks class." its a peace offering. an extension of himself to robin for caring about you the way he does. no one really seems to be able, despite how easy steve finds it to be.

"yeah?"

"really, i do. maybe you couldve helped me pass the class." he breathes out, the thought of all he couldve done differently will always haunt him. king steve is dead, but the persona is a ghost he will never be able to get rid of. "maybe instead of being here, id be with y/n on some romantic getaway. maybe you wouldve given me the courage to do what i shouldve done sooner."

robin doesnt say anything. she turns her face away, presses her cheek against the concrete surface.

"robin?"

she swallows. "yeah. yeah, maybe. you wouldnt have been stuck slinging ice cream with me like some smuck."

steve shakes his head. hes worried hes said the wrong thing. "hey, dont get me wrong. i enjoyed being your smuck. it was fun while it lasted."

bittersweetness creeps upon robins face. she smiles, though its a sad one. shes going to die with the understanding of why youve fallen so hard for steve harrington. "yeah. it was."

then the doors burst open and the russian find them.

[mintmatcha]

Mint, I need Lady in Waiting reader to find out that Sir Aizawa isn't married, I NEED this (I need to caress his weary face in my hands and watch his eyes slowly close as he cuddles into them, like a cat)

It’s normal for him to notice who comes and goes at these events. The vigilance is ingrained deep in every muscle, so much so that his eyes flicker to the door whenever there’s even a hint of movement.

That’s how he notices you dip out, the tails of your dress following behind.

He also notices that someone else is watching you.

“And then the dragon breathed fire. Did you know dragons could do that, mister?” the princess babbles, “That might only be in stories, though.”

Aizawa can barely mutter out a sound as he watches the other man -a squire, servicing under one of the other knights- excuses himself and heads to through door. He knows something is wrong by the way he moves. There’s too much purpose in his stride, a goal set into his brow and a smirk of his lips. It’s not the smile of a secret lovers meeting– its the sharpness of a predator hunting its prey.

“Mister Aizawa?”

Princess Eri tugs at the fabric of his shirt. The princess is especially young compared to the age of her father, only six as of this summer. Guarding her as been some of the easier years of his life, but also some of the most rewarding.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he stands, “I have to check on something.”

The young girl looks at him with wide eyes. “Will you be back soon? You promised we would dance.”

He ruffles her hair as he spins on his heel. He fears she has become his soft spot. “Before you know it, princess.”

He can’t hear your voice until his halfway down the hall and clear of the din of the banquet hall. It’s hushed, but with none of the polite lacquer you usually apply.

“I said I am retiring for the night,” you hiss.

“Perfect - then we shall head to your room.”

As Aizawa peers around the corner, he catches the blonde man reaching for you and grasping at the hem of your sleeve. You immediately rip yourself away, only for the squire to grap your other hand much more firmly.

“Sir Monoma,” you say, “If I have told you once, I have told you a hundred times. My heart belongs to another and I have no interest in you.”

The squire steps in closer, a laugh on his breath. He’s drunk enough that Aizawa can almost smell it from here. “Everyone sees how you long for the man. If he hasn’t reciprocated by now, you are waiting for nothing. You’re wasting your good years on a fool.”

Pity pangs in Aizawa’s chest. Have your affections been this obvious the whole time? He’d only just began to notice your lingering glances and hesitant touches– how long had it been obvious to everyone else? How much time had he spent missing you?

“Just one chance.” The squire tugs on your arm, trying to drag you in, but you hold firm, “I’ll treat you real nice, I swear it.”

The man twists slightly and you yelp.

Aizawa moves without thinking. It’s easy to catch a drunk man off guard. He slides in and knocks his weight off center, and in the instant of surprise, his hard snatches the squires away from yours. With a twist and a pop, the man’s arm folds behind his back and he falls to his knees, a strangled sound in his lips. It’s after, when he sees the fear in your eyes, that the anger sets in.

“If I am ever to catch you touching a maiden again I will break this arm so badly that you will never use it again, do you understand?” The words rip from his throat, “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir, or course, sir,” the man spits out.

“Your charge will hear of this.” With a shove, Aizawa sends him stumbling back, “And the king. Now, be off.”

There’s a moment of hesitation.

“I said be off.”

Monoma scrambles down the hall, back towards the party. You watch, rubbing your twisted skin with a dour look and avoiding Aizawa’s gaze. He’s not one to get flustered, but suddenly he is; you smell like juniper and flowers, a summer’s day, and rolled in like a winter’s storm.

“Don’t worry. His wrist is only sprained,” he offers.

“Frankly, I think you should have broken it.”

That surprises him enough that he chuckles.

“Was that too harsh?” you ask.

“Not at all.”

“Thank you, Sir, I don’t know how to repay you-”

Aizawa had discussed moments like these, the little openings that life gives him and he keeps squandering. Hizashi always tells him to be bold and romantic, Toshinori says to be soft and himself. Both seem like bad choices- so Aizawa decides to so something different entirely.

“Give me your hand.” He holds his own out, palm up. “That is all I request.”

You check the hall with a fair amount of apprehension. “Would your wife approve?”

“I am not married.”

“You aren’t?”

“Not even close to it.” He want s to explain the mix up, but the only thing he can focus on are you hands and how they wring your dress, “You can deny me. I’d understand.”

You lift your hand and place it in his, hovering slightly above his touch. Gently, he raises it to his lips and gives it the chastest of kisses. He expects you to pull away, maybe even slap him, but you don’t. Your touch lingers, warm against his skin.

“Are you sure you are unmarried?” you whisper, “You’ll break my heart if you are lying.”

He turns your wrist and presses a firmer kiss into your pulsepoint, then another, and another, trailing up your arm.

“You can ask the king himself.”

Right before he can nestle his face into the crook of your neck, you break away.

“Then, I will,” you say, dipping away and back towards the grand hall, “I will ask right now. I don’t want you to make a dishonest woman of me, sir.”

“Don’t ask in front of the court!” Aizawa is quick to follow, a uncharacteristic blush blossoming across his cheeks.

“Because you’ll be shown to be a liar?”

“Because the king might end up begging you to take me.”

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Don't Ask

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Reader, Billy Smith, Charlie Hodge, Given Time Period We’ll Say Ginger Aldean

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4483

Summary: All he has to do is ask.

Tags/Warnings: Reader has a name, Addiction, Drug Use, Divorce, Arguing, Crying, Angst, Love, Marriage, Kids, Substance Abuse, Failing Health, Body Issues, Body Image Issues, Weight Gain, Big Daddy Elvis Era,

Notes: okay so this was sadder than anticipated

ELVIS MASTERLIST // TAG LIST

You could hear it, the shrill ring of the telephone just beside your bed, attempting to pull you into consciousness, its calls getting louder and louder as it managed to do so. It only stopped as you threw your hand on the nightstand, fumbling around until your fingers clasped around the receiver. As you placed it to your ear you flopped back, far too casual for someone who was receiving an out of the blue phone call at three am. Then again your life had never run on a normal schedule so nothing really phased you anymore.

‘Hello,’ you yawned, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you waited for the mystery caller to make themselves known.

‘Lor? That you?’ Billy said.

‘Yeah it’s me,’ you said quickly sitting yourself up in bed. Just because you’d become acclimatised to living life at a fast pace didn’t stop ice running through your veins whenever a call like this came it. It didn’t mean that countless scenarios didn’t run through your mind as you tried to keep calm and ask, ‘what is it?’

‘It’s Elvis,’ Billy said as if it could be anything else. As if there was any other reason any of them would even bother with you anymore.

‘What is it? Is everything okay?’ you replied, trying to push the worst conclusions from your mind.

‘He’s fallen. He’s hit his head pretty bad,’ Billy said. It wasn’t exactly great but it allowed your thudding heart to slow as you pushed anything worse from your mind. Injured you could deal with. Injured meant alive.

‘What about the kids have they seen him?’ you asked, getting to your next priority. Making sure nothing terrible had happened was top of the list. Making sure they hadn’t seen it was right behind it though these days that felt like a losing battle.

‘No, no, they’re asleep,’ Billy explained before he paused. You could hear him shift, no doubt trying to think of how to say whatever it was Elvis had told him to. Whatever he had told him to ask, ‘Lor, he’s asking for you.’

‘Bill,’ you sighed.

‘Said he won’t get off the floor but anyone but you,’ Billy said cutting you off. You knew he wasn’t trying to be rude but rather hoping that his explanation would get you on side. After all you could see how possibility of having to go back to Elvis empty handed wasn’t very appealing to him because the idea of telling him you couldn’t come over felt the same way.

‘Bill,’ you said hoping he wouldn’t ask you outright. That you wouldn’t have to peel yourself out of your warm bed and drive to the house to fix yet another mess.

‘Lor please…I don’t know what else to do,’ he said, quietly.

You paused. You shouldn’t go, you knew that. You knew that this wasn’t your job anymore and yet as you thought about him you couldn’t help but wonder. Wonder how bad it was this time. Wonder what they’d do if you said no. Wonder if your kids would see him in whatever state he was in if you didn’t go to help.

‘Give me twenty minutes,’ you sighed.

As your car rolled through the gates of Graceland you felt the nerves you had been fending off the entire drive return. It never failed to amaze you how people could stand outside the gates you had just gone through, watching a house just be. How they could fantasise about the goings on inside and wish to be part of them. But that was because they didn’t know what truly lay behind those gates. They didn’t know the goings on as you did. They weren’t here with you at three am on a chilly December night; not going to a party, not going to frolic by the pool or ride horses around the grounds. No, they weren’t there for this, whatever this was of course.

As you stepped out you wondered if they would be here if they could. That if they knew everything they’d swap places with you in a heartbeat. You wondered if they were in your shoes would they be coming over to the house or would they have never left in the first place? After all, considering all you’d been through your decision to leave your husband, your home, all you’d ever known, had baffled everyone. It made them wonder. What was the breaking point? What was the final straw? And most people wondered, could it really be that bad? Surely all the good bits of Elvis Presley were enough to stay.

They had a point you supposed. Because even after you’d left; packed up your children and whacked the divorce papers in front of him you still came back for the bad bits.

‘You’re going?’ you heard your boyfriend ask as you emerged from the bathroom. You’d promised to head over to the house, to mop up whatever mess Elvis needed you to, but that didn’t mean you were going to rush right over there. It was pointless of course, to make sure you looked at least somewhat presentable, but the idea of having some control over the situation brought you a modicum of self-respect. Even if you were running back home and leaving your boyfriend in an empty bed.

‘I have to,’ you said, not meeting his gaze as you made your way around the room, dressing yourself for the chilly Memphis winter as he climbed out of bed and came towards you.

‘He’s your ex-husband Lori. Emphasis on ex. You don’t have to do anything, let his new girlfriend figure it out,’ he said. He was standing in front of you now, blocking your path to your purse and forcing you to look up at him.

‘It’s not that simple,’ you said trying to ignore that twinge in your gut at the mention of your replacement.

‘Why not?’ he replied.

‘My kids are there Tom. I mean what if they see,’ you said pausing before you let anything else slip out. Even after everything you still couldn’t bring yourself to tarnish his reputation, even if he was doing a damn good job of doing that himself. Instead you steeled yourself and moved past him, picking your purse up from where it rested on a chair by your vanity, ‘I have to go.’

‘You’re just gonna run to him every time he clicks his fingers?’ he said watching you as you headed to the door. You paused at that, your hand resting on the door handle waiting for you to make your decision.

‘What choice do I have?’ you muttered before you ran out of the door.

The house was still when you got inside, the sound of the kids running around or the presence of Elvis’ entourage now gone not that you needed anyone to tell you where to go. You headed upstairs only when you rounded the corner you found Billy sitting at the top of them as though he’d been waiting for you to show up before he dared go and tell Elvis anything. He stood up as you came into view giving you a quick hug before he turned to head towards your bedroom, your old bedroom.

‘He’s in the bathroom,’ he muttered as he walked through the room, ignoring the woman who was sitting on the bed, tears running down her face as Billy’s wife Jo attempted to comfort her. She looked up as you passed, watching you with a scowl on her pretty face that you ignored. It wasn’t that you weren’t sympathetic. After all you knew how she must’ve felt, you’d been there yourself a million times before, left out in the cold whilst he chose someone else. You just couldn’t help it. You knew you shouldn’t be there and yet you couldn’t not be.

Because he’d asked for you.

You heard him before you saw him. Billy had headed into the bathroom first, joining Charlie who was standing by the door, and as suspected he’d been missing a while causing the backlash he’d been hoping to swerve to spilled out the moment he reappeared as Elvis said, ‘and where the fuck have you been?’

‘Makin’ a call like you asked,’ Billy said.

‘That took you half an hour?’ Elvis spat, ‘honestly if I got one competent person around here-‘

‘He was waiting for me to get here. Now can someone tell me what the hell is going on?’ you asked, pushing through Billy and Charlie’s human blockade. Elvis’ angry expression melted away as you broke through the line of defence, disbelief taking over his features as he said, ‘you came.’

‘Of course I came,’ you said bitterly, folding your arms across your chest, ‘they said you were being ridiculous and won’t get up.’

‘And what, you think you can make me?’ he said, a cocky smile coming to his tired face.

‘Don’t test me Elvis,’ you said seriously.

‘Oh come on,’ he said, ‘you used to like me teasin’ ya remember?’

‘You know what forget it. I don’t need this,’ you said turning to head to the door though you hadn’t made it a foot before he spoke again, all teasing gone from his tone as he said, ‘don’t go. I’ll behave…just don’t go.’

You turned around, assessing the situation in its entirety. He was sitting on the floor, his legs out in front of him as he rested against his back the counter top. Apart from being on the floor he didn’t look too bad but it was only when you looked closer did you notice the disarray. The bottles that were scattered along the counter top and the floor from where he caught them on his way down. The discarded towels on the floor beside him, dark in colour which made it hard to notice the even darker spots of blood that had long since dried into them. The deep gash on his forehead that was still crusted with blood but blended enough into his hair line that it wasn’t noticeable at first glance. And the fear in his eyes.

You knew him better than anyone. You’d learned to read every expression that ever came on that beautiful face of his and right now you could see he was scared. He wasn’t doing this to be awkward. He hadn’t called you because no one else could help. Hed called you because you were the only one he wanted to see him like this.

‘Give us a minute,’ you said looking towards Charlie and Billy who were both standing by the door watching the pair of you curiously.

‘But-‘ Billy protested.

‘A minute,’ you said looking at him with the expression you gave your son when he was being just as cheeky as his daddy. Billy glanced between the pair of you and then nodded before gesturing for Charlie to follow him out of the room. You pushed the door shut behind them, taking a deep breath before you turned back to Elvis whose eyes had never left you.

‘So what was so important that you couldn't ask for anyone but me at three am,’ you said, perching on the barbers chair as you stared down at him.

‘I need ya,’ he said simply, colour flushing his plump cheeks as he said, ‘I can’t get up.’

‘Can’t or won’t?’ you challenged.

‘Can’t,’ he said embarrassedly, ‘my legs…I can't feel ‘em. T-that’s why I fell.’

‘We should call an ambulance,’ you said worriedly.

‘Hell no!’ he retorted angrily.

‘Elvis,’ you pressed.

‘No Lor, no ambulance,’ he said tersely though as your worry went to irritation at his tone he noticed he’d overstepped and his expression softened, ‘just please help me.’

‘I don’t know if I can E,’ you said assessing the scene before you. He’d always been bigger than you, in height for one, but over the past few years with his varied state of health his weight had fluctuated leaving him larger than he used to be meaning you didn’t know how you were going to hoist him up off the floor without help.

‘They won't understand,’ he said brokenly, ‘you’re the only one who understands.’

You surveyed him one last time, watching as he kept his gaze ashamedly on his lap, which only made tears sting at your eyes though you blinked them away. As always you couldn’t let yourself cry because he needed you to be strong. And so you sighed and said, ‘alright, let’s see if we can get you up.’

Elvis looked up at that and nodded watching you as you moved to the floor and bent down beside him to assess the situation. You didn’t know how best to get him up, the way he had landed had left him in the middle of the bathroom with only you to grab onto but as you surveyed you noticed the towel rack on the wall not too far away.

‘I’m gonna hoist this side okay? Do you think you can grab the rail and pull?’ you asked, peering into his face that resembled that of an old man and an obedient school boy all at once.

‘Think so,’ he said.

‘How much feeling have you got in your legs?’ you asked.

‘I can feel ‘em now but they’re weak…I won’t be able to hold myself up for long,’ he admitted.

‘Well let’s get you into the barbers chair,’ you said eyeing the distance between it and you. Once he was on his feet it would only be a couple of steps but the feat of getting him upright left you with that uneasy feeling once more.

‘Okay,’ he said reaching out for the gold towel rack and wrapping his hand around it so tight his knuckles turned white.

‘Ready?’ you asked, slipping your arm under his shoulder until you had a grip of him on his other side.

‘Ready,’ he nodded.

‘One…two…three,’ you said rocking him on every beat until you both thrusted forward, using his weight as an advantage to pivot him onto his feet. He was up surprisingly quickly, though his grip on your waist tightened as he stood there, unsure and wobbly on his own feet. You surveyed him looking for any signal he was going to drop but he met your gaze offering you a reassuring smile, well, until the distinct smell of dried urine wafted into your nostrils. He noticed it at the same time, his cheeks going beetroot red as he dropped his gaze to the dark stain on the front of his pyjama pants and muttered, ‘sorry…it happened when I…’

‘It’s okay,’ you said, your heart breaking at his embarrassment, ‘let’s get you cleaned up.’

He nodded and plodded the couple of steps towards the chair, your hands only letting go when he was close enough to sit down though he threw himself into the chair with an oomph and a groan. He looked exhausted. Any energy he’d had thus far vanquished in a couple of steps. And looking at him you felt just as exhausted, your battery running on empty even though you knew he needed you. At that you excused yourself offering the excuse of finding him some new clothes. He didn’t protest though you didn’t give him time to, instead fleeing to the safety of the other room. Everyone was gone now, save for Charlie who was perched on the bed watching as you flitted to the closet.

‘Is he okay?’ he asked.

‘He’s fine,’ you said though both of you knew that was far from the truth. Even holed away, protected by soundproof walls and secrecy, neither of you dared address the elephant in the room.

‘Need any help?’ he asked.

‘Nope,’ you said, tucking the folded silk pyjamas under your arm, ‘I’ve got it under control.’

‘Holler if you need anything,’ he said, watching you nod before you were gone from sight back into the bathroom. He was where you’d left him, his eyes closed as he relaxed back against the headrest though they opened as you entered making your heart squeeze as the peacefulness disappeared replaced by fatigue and worry.

You ignored it, that hurt in your heart, and instead moved to the counter, turning the tap on and running the water until it was warm enough to start filling up the sink. If you couldn’t get him to the shower the shower would have to come to him. Once the warm water was up near the top of the bowl you turned the tap off and moved back to him, your fingers working quickly to unbutton his pyjama shirt. He allowed you to remove his clothes, watching as you worked silently, the only thing offered being a grunt as you made him lift his hips to get his pants off. You moved to grab a wash cloth but when you turned back he was surveying himself, disgust on his face as he took in the body before him. Again you said nothing but this time it was less about trying to hold back your emotions but more because you didn’t know what to say. You’d told him countless times about how handsome you still thought he was. How a little extra timber suited him not that he had ever believed you. But his body now meant something different to you.

It made you sad. Not because you longed for that trim twenty something you married but because you knew that it would only be able to take so much. Because you feared that one day it might not be just his legs or his bladder that gave up on him. Because you feared that one day you might get another phone call in the middle of the night except there’d be no helping that time.

The washcloth glided smoothly across his skin washing away the sweat that had arisen on his skin from the exertion and though you knew he would probably be better with a shower there was no way you’d be able to manage that so as long as he was clean you’d take it. He said nothing, watching as you glided the warm cloth tenderly along every inch of skin, until you got to his thighs, which was when his weary face broke into a smile, his eyes lighting up at whatever dirty quip he’d cooked up in that brain of his.

‘Nice try Presley,’ you giggled handing him the cloth so that he could deal with that part alone.

‘Hey, I didn’t say nuthin’,’ he smirked making you roll your eyes as you busied yourself with getting his clothes ready.

‘You don’t have to,’ you said as you turned back around.

‘Maybe you should get your mind outta the gutter Mama,’ he retorted.

You ignored him, even when he quirked an eyebrow as you dropped to your knees in front of him, ignoring how pink your cheeks had turned as you tapped his foot to allow you to slip his pants on. He clung onto you as you got to his hips, grunting again as the exertion of moving made him breathless, his belly diminishing the amount of air able to get in his lungs. As you shimmied his pyjama shirt, moving to fiddle with the buttons on the front, his hands found their way to your hips. You knew he probably shouldn’t, that exes should never be this affectionate with one other but like with everything else Elvis was a law unto himself. Even with another girl in the other room he still held you like he would have if you were married. And more to the point you let him.

Once you finished dressing him you grabbed a comb and ran it through his locks, trying to get them into some form of order instead of the disarray they’d been in but the teeth of the comb snagged in the dried blood making him wince.

‘Sorry,’ you murmured moving to grab another cloth so that you could wash it off properly. Except this time he didn’t let you stand, as you dabbed the cloth against his forehead he pulled you onto his lap watching your face closely as you kept your eyes on the task at hand.

‘Lor,’ he said after a moment. You didn’t respond, ‘Lor look at me.’

‘I can’t,’ you whispered, refusing to meet his gaze, ‘I can’t keep doing this.’

‘I know,’ he whispered, ‘I can’t believe you came.’

‘How could I not?’ you asked finally meeting his eyes as tears started blurring your vision.

‘But you can’t anymore?’ he said dropping his gaze to your other hand as he took it in his large one his thumb stroking the back of it gently.

‘No,’ you said honestly, ‘and you have to stop asking.’

‘Honey,’ he sighed.

‘Because if you ask I’ll come. You know I will and this…I left because I couldn’t do this anymore Elvis. You know how much it breaks my heart to see you like this. To think of the kids seeing you like this.’

‘I know, I know,’ he sighed.

‘But you don’t!’ you said climbing out of his lap and brushing the tears away, ‘you don’t seem to get it otherwise we wouldn’t be in this cycle would we?’

He didn’t answer, instead he fiddled with the arm rest of the chair refusing to look up at you.

‘When I go are you gonna call Dr Nick?’ you asked. You knew the answer already but hoped you were wrong. You knew that once you were out of the way, once you’d hid his shame and guilt away he’d be back to the people who caused it in the first place.

‘I hit my head,’ he said earning a scoff. It wasn’t an outright admittance but it wasn’t a denial either. It was a classic Elvis tactic. To make you do the work. To never be in the wrong but never be in the right either. To live in ambiguity until his opponent gave up fighting. Like you had.   

‘Honey,’ he sighed.

‘No Elvis,’ you said folding your arms across your chest.

‘I need him,’ he explained, ‘the pain, the achin’. I can’t take it.’

‘How do you know? You haven’t tried,’ you said exasperatedly, ‘you just pop those damn pills and hope they’ll fix everything.’

‘He’s a doctor,’ he said.

‘He’s a murderer,’ you corrected. You could see the argument building. It had been one you’d had countless times. His use of his so-called doctor ranking somewhere in the middle of worthy topics of debate, smushed in between fighting about the kids, the house, money, the other women, the colonel and work. Yet unlike all those times before you could see he was weaker now. That though he dared to stand by his actions his resilience to do so was waning and if you kept arguing you’d be no better at keeping him from an early grave than that damn doctor.

‘I can’t,’ you sighed, ‘I can’t argue about this again…I just can’t.’

‘Lor please,’ he begged.

‘No Elvis,’ you said, the firmest you’d been all night, ‘I can’t do this anymore. I asked you to choose and you made your choice.’

‘It ain’t that simple,’ Elvis said.

‘And neither was leaving you,’ you replied. The tears had broken free now, silently running down your cheeks as you said, ‘do you love me? Our life? Our babies?’

‘Of course I do,’ he scoffed.

‘So why isn’t it enough,’ you said moving to stand in between his legs. His arms wrapped around your torso, his sad blue eyes looking up at you as you took his face in your hands, dampness coating your fingertips from where his own tears had rolled free, ‘why can’t you choose us for once?’

‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t know either…’ you sniffled, ‘because I choose you. Every time. Whenever you ask I come running and I just can’t do it any longer because it’s killing me…the way those pills are killing you…and I can’t let our babies end up with no one.’

‘Lor,’ he whispered brokenly.

‘This only gonna end one way baby,’ you said moving to rest your forehead against his, ‘unless you choose not to.’

He stayed quiet, allowing you to kiss his forehead before you broke free of his grasp, his hand only letting go of yours at the very last second before you slipped from the room. Charlie was gone now, replaced by the girlfriend you didn’t know the name of yet. As you wiped the tears from your face she watched you, her expression less hostile now that she could see your distress, whatever favouritism you’d been shown evidently not being a good thing.

‘Is he okay?’ she said as you grabbed your purse from where you’d dumped it by the bathroom door.

‘He’s fine,’ you replied, fumbling for your car keys.

‘Fixed him all up huh?’ she said, her stare cold and unyielding.

‘I did what he asked me to,’ you said flatly, ‘but um he’s asking for you.’

‘Oh really,’ she said sarcastically and though you wanted to argue to fight back you didn’t.

‘Yeah, he uh, he’s gonna wanna get it bed but he might need a minute to get there. Don’t fuss him too much otherwise hell get angry with you-‘

‘I don’t need your help,’ she said snippily.

‘From the way you were sobbing your heart out earlier I take it your initial go at handling him didn’t go very well,’ you bit back, offering the only bit of angry you could muster. She bristled, folding her arms across her chest with a pout on her face which you elected to ignore as if she was one of your children. Given her age she might as well have been, ‘look you wanna feed yourself to the lions go ahead but I’m here to help. More importantly I need yours.’

‘Why?’ she questioned.

‘Because I need to know has got someone. Whether it’s you or the next one who knows,’ you said, the idea of her being replaceable finally seeming to kick her into a cooperative mood, ‘just look after him.’

‘What if I don’t know how?’ she asked.

‘Call me,’ you said.

And before she could ask any more questions you fled the room headed back to your car. As you drove away, fresh tears pouring down your face you wondered again about those people at the gate. Except now you had your answer. Because even knowing everything, knowing how it was going to end, you couldn’t walk away. Even if you had to look like you had.

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @artlesson8892 @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @presleyenterprise @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @lettersfromvenus @louisejoy86 @ccab

[hrtsdollie]

THE LETTER - M. STURNIOLO (matthew sturniolo x reader)

pt1

warnings; no use of y/n , none this is simply a letter from a grieving girl to her boyfriend who has passed , it’s super short though!

major warning; this is a super rough topic to write about, if you don’t like the idea of reading something where matt passes, then please do not continue reading. this is purely fiction, and in no way, shape, or form am i trying to spread misinformation and claim that matt is seriously dead. this is just a thought i had (about readers grieving process and sort of the reaction). if you don’t like it, don’t read it. if i receive hate from this, anons and comments will be turned off. - xoxo emmy.

dear matthew, 

the weeks following your death were worse than anything. media was awful. and normally when people got under my skin like this, you would help me. but now.. its the posts about you that were bothering me. you really can’t help me now. i never realized how insensitive this fanbase was. some comments and memorial videos are sweet, most are not. i miss you matt. i lay in your bed and i cry. i cry? is this what you would’ve wanted for me matty? to spend my days crying? i dont care, i miss you.

wails can be heard all throughout the our house. we’ve left boston. nick and chris and me. not you. i want to move down there. i want to visit you whenever i would like to. but your mom says you’ll always be with me. chris stays in nick’s room. his cover has been broken down and he’s starting the grieving process. im proud of him. i know nick  feels it too, but chris needs him.

our friends have all come to visit us. the fridge is stocked with casseroles and drinks that we probably won’t ever get to. nearly every surface is covered with flowers. your friends loved you more than anything. everyone did. but nobody is grieving like nick and chris and me. that’s all it is now. just nick and chris and me. the flowers and the food are too much. 

it’s almost like the house is aware of your absence. our bathroom flooded, chris nearly burned the kitchen down by using the toaster, and it’s like the ninth time i have slipped walking up the stairs. my sweet boy is gone, and all shit is hitting the fan. come back to me, matty. i love you.

your silk sheets still smell like you, along with every hoodie. your pink hershey shirt is worn by the pink bunny you had bought me for valentines day. i have all of the bunny stuffed animals gifted to me by you just sitting in your room. i miss when i was your bunny. i miss the feeling i got in my stomach the first time you called me that. i would do anything to hear it come from your mouth just once more. 

i feel guilty, like maybe it should’ve been me in the car. but your brothers have told me several times it wasn’t my fault. i can’t keep myself from holding some resentment towards nick and chris. what if it’d been them? i know that isn’t any better, but seeing them everyday hurts me so bad. it’s as if the ghost of you, my highschool sweetheart, simply floats through the halls, but it’s only your brothers. chris shaved his beard, he’d let it grow out after you died. he looks less like you do — well, did now. it hurts a little less, but it’ll never not hurt to see them, or at least that’s what marylou told me. 

i call marylou everyday. it’s nice to hear her voice. she’s hanging on and trying to work through this, at least from what i can tell. i think i’ve sent you too many voicemails these past few weeks because your inbox is full. maybe i wasn’t the only one who simply wanted to talk again. i feel bad sending you messages everyday. so that’s why im writing this for you. you deserve to have an update, you always were nosy. and so so sassy. i miss your “mattitude”. if you were here i would let you be sassy, and make stank faces at me all you want.

i hope all the pain you ever felt is gone now matty. and i hope this letter finds you well. i will continue to write this until i see you again. someday. not now, and not soon. but someday. 

love, bunny ᡣ𐭩 

divs by @/anitalenia

open to possibly writing pt3 on this one because i have an idea but that would be the last part! feedback is so heavily encouraged (be kind, i am just a girl 😓).

tags: @lypsiiii

[shovelbug]

You lived a relatively quiet life. You were never one for the luxury so many Fontainians seemed to favor, but you were fine with that. You lived in a small apartment complex, and it was more than enough for you. Not much of a view, but you make do. You kept to yourself occupied with your hobbies. It wasn’t glamorous, but you were happy.

But even you knew about the recent trial of the Hydro Archon and her subsequent retirement from her position. You felt a great grief for all the woman had been through, and you held even more respect for her, perhaps even more so than before the trial.

So it was simultaneously no surprise and a great shock that Lady Furina, of all people, was your new neighbor.

It made sense, you figured. You would want a quiet life and a place to rest after all that, too. So, with that in mind, you resolved to treat her kindly, but no differently from how you would anyone else. She had enough of being put on a pedestal for one lifetime, you thought.

The day she moved in, she had very little in terms of luggage, but you offered to bring her bags up regardless. She seemed like she was ready to insist otherwise, but she didn’t actually refuse and allowed your help with a simple “Thank you.”

She sounded tired, you noticed. But also, more genuine.

You didn’t interact with her much other than that, save for when you used the fire hydrant in the hall to spray down her kitchen afyer she burned her macaroni. Despite her embarrassment, you said nothing of the incident and occasionally exchanged polite hello’s and good mornings whenever you happened to pass each other by.

It seemed wrong to judge the (former?) god of justice. More than that, you felt she was really just starting her life for the first time, as ironic as that sounded. She was stumbling, unsure, like a baby deer on its legs. But she was still trying, and kept getting back up. There was something to be admired in that.

After some time, you noticed how she seemed to pretty much only make macaroni. Now, you were no stranger to safe or comfort foods and often would make the same things yourself when you were lacking energy, but even that got tiresome after a while. So, when you were making yourself dinner one day, you found yourself making an extra portion. You put the lasagna and a few slices of the garlic baguette into a container and covered it, before taking it and peering into the hall.

Quiet, as usual. You padded along the corridor to her apartment’s doorstep, before leaving it with a quick knock and hurrying back to your own apartment.

You hoped, in some small way, Furina would find joy in the gesture.

a/n: hi so uhhh this is basically like. Furina moves into her little apartment and you’re her neighbor who is like i’ll just treat her like a normal person but also i am mildly Concerned. i haven’t finished her story quest so apologies if this is weird or something this is just a brain worm i had. might continue it idk! anyways i love her

k thanks for reading love you bye

[trainsinanime]

Your favorite fanfic writer doesn't know (but would like to)

Let's talk about comments on fanfics. This is not meant as a guide or call to action, just a bit of observations. Personally, I always saw it as impolite to ask for reviews or kudos or comments or likes or reblogs or whatever. That's not a rational point of view, it just reflects how I am. And people actually telling others that they have to leave any of this feedback? I've blocked folks over that. In my mind that's not okay. I'm not announcing a change of that, this is not a policy, just some deep-seated mental issues, but I want to write down some more things that have been going through my mind, from the perspective of someone who occasionally writes fanfics. My previous suggestion in this regard was mostly to write some fanfic yourself and see what happens and what you'd like to happen, because it's genuinely fun and I think you probably have more to say than you realise.

But there's also another point here, and that is that your favourite fanfic writer has no idea that they are. If you're anything like me, then it will seem like the great writers in your fandom are obvious. Also, the last time you bought Blåhajs, it ended with you having to flee a smoke-filled subway tunnel. The great stories and great writers in your universe are facts of nature. You read a story and you think, "this is the greatest thing I've ever seen." A story rewires your brain chemistry forever. You keep coming back and reading that one fic whenever the mood hits you. It feels obvious that this story is great. How could it not be?

It feels trite to say that the author of that fic doesn't know that unless you tell them, but it's hard to really understand the feeling unless you've been there yourself. You write a story, but is it any good? Maybe you get a lot of kudos, or maybe very little, but what does either of that mean? Kudos can mean literally anything from "loved this" to "didn't close the tab in disgust". Maybe you just got unlucky. Maybe you just got lucky. What do these numbers mean? What is a good number of kudos? 1? 10? 100? 1000? Should I calculate ratios? How do I know whether people like this?

In light of this, a comment where someone just said, "I loved this", has an almost incalculable worth. A comment where someone says they read this over and over again, or quotes lines they loved, or something? You can't imagine how valuable that is. A while ago someone told me "a couple of us are talking about this on Discord, we love it and we keep repeating our favorite lines". I thanked them, but I was too polite to say, "really? What are they saying? Which are your favorite lines? How many people are there who love it? What are their names? Which lines are the favorite ones, please, tell me!". Part of me still regrets that, because I so desperately want to know! I don't think it was a public Discord and I never heard from the others on it, but just the idea that they're out there and they like my story was so powerful. (By the way, it's not on any account that's linked from here, please don't try to find that comment.)

Now, I firmly believe that you, as a reader, don't have to care about any of that. I know there are people who disagree with me on this point, very strongly in fact, but I don't think it's necessarily your job to care. It's great if you do, and I think a lot of you do in fact care, that's why I'm writing this. But if you haven't thought about that or don't feel comfortable leaving comments or whatever, that's fine, that's normal, and you are in fact part of the majority. Any well-adjusted fic author has found ways to deal with this. They have learned to love writing for its own sake, or they love re-reading their own fics, or they have a couple of trusted friends who like their work, or ideally all three. Personally I was scared of Discord for the longest time, but it really helps with that. One person who you sort of know going "hey that's neat" can outweigh just about anything else. (Still, there will be days when you post something and you won't get a response and that just plain sucks, no two ways about it.)

But if you do care, if you think it's important that a fanfic writer knows what they mean to you, not because of any concern about the wider unpaid fan creator economy but just because of the way their work affected you, then this is important. Your favorite fanfic writer probably doesn't know and/or believe that they're anyone's favorite, and even if they do, a reminder or learning that someone knew found them will make them incredibly happy. And obviously, all of that applies at least just as much to all the beginners with potential that are out there. So if you're wondering whether it's worth it leaving a comment that says how much you enjoyed something: It probably is. And if you shared this with others and they loved it, or if this is your favourite fic, or if you enjoy how original it is, or how well it does your favourite tropes, or anything like that, the writer is going to be so happy to hear that.

A final aside: This obviously applies even more when it's about fandoms, pairings, subject matter and in particular ratings that are considered a bit embarrassing. Writers who write stuff that, say, happens to be E-rated for whatever reason, doesn't matter, will probably get fewer kudos and comments just because people are embarrassed to have their names show up in the Kudos and Comment sections. If that's you, just a note that it is perfectly okay to comment anonymously, or to create a second separate account for leaving kudos on, commenting on and maybe even posting the somewhat more risqué stuff. Now I'm not saying I have one of these second accounts, at least I'm not saying that in public, but it is an option worth considering.