#both of you sounded like you've known each other your entire lives

[darling-to-death]

I'm feeling self-indulgent, so here's some DOL headcanons about the Lis taking care of you when you're sick.

Kylar -Oh he's on cloud 9. You're so helpless! -You HAVE to stay in bed, so you're easy to find! And watch. :3c -Please just sit back and let him take care of you. <3 -Which he does… to the best of his ability… -But he kinda gets sidetracked and pervy. -Like he'll make you a lovely soup, but there's a special ingredient in there you probably wouldn't want to consume if you knew it was in there. -Or he'll tuck you in for a nice nap, but you have a hazy fever dream of someone straddling you and panting. -Gosh, you woke up so "sweaty" your skin feels sticky… -He lets you cuddle with his stuffed animals to make you feel better. -It's honestly quite sweet. Those toys were a great comfort to him at one point… -After his parents turned, he didn't have anyone to take care of him when he was sick. -So he'd hug his toys to feel some level of comfort. He hopes they do the same for you. -Although he would prefer you cuddle him. -Because he gets way too up close and personal, he catches whatever bug you've gotten. -He expects to be nurtured and attended to just as he did for you.

Whitney -He does not want to get sick. -Fuck you for getting sick and putting him at risk. -Cuz he can't just leave you like this… -I mean, how's he gonna have fun if his favorite slut up and dies on him cuz of some weak-ass common cold? -So he takes care of you. "Begrudgingly." -He wears a mask the entire time. -He refuses to get too close to you. -Honestly, he mostly just drops ramen soup and cold medicine in a bag before leaving you to your own devices. -But he's always popping in to check up on you. -He'll peek his head through the door to see if you're doing any better. -Sometimes he'll gently press his palm against your forehead to check your temperature. -If it's too high, he'll get a worried look on his face. -He'll remind you to take your fucking medicine so you don't boil in your own skin. -He misses you.

Robin -Oh Robin is both horribly underprepared and the most equipped to deal with you being sick. -You've known each other your entire lives. Of course he knows how to take care of you. -But you take care of him… That's the arrangement, right? -The longer you stay in bed, the less time you have to make money for the both of you. -He shudders to think what will be done to you when you're too weak to fight back. -He panics thinking about what will be done to him. -He tries to balance his time between tending to you and tending to his lemonade stand. -He needs to work extra hard to make sure you both have enough money at the end of the week. He knows you have something saved up, but he doesn't know if it's enough. -But the more he works, the more you're alone. And you're so helpless like this. -It's a constant mental struggle trying to prioritize what you need more. -He feels selfish for wanting you to get better, because he knows that desire is partly motivated by his need for you to support him. -He plays video games beside you to try to keep your mind off your illness. -You fall asleep to it as background noise. -He likes watching you sleep. -When you're awake, he can all too often see the anguish on your face. -Sleep is the only place you're free. -He hopes you have good dreams.

Eden -He hates being sick. -Living alone in the woods means there's no one to take care of you when you're sick. -It doesn't matter if you feel like shit, if you don't keep up with your chores it could mean the difference in surviving or not. -…But that's living alone in the woods. -Now he has company. -He'll be a little more lenient with you. -He'll try to cook meals, so you don't get your germs in the food. -He'll let you bathe separately, but he still insists on washing you. -He makes an extra trip into town so he can buy you some medicine. -He'll try to be extra quiet. -He's already not much of a talker, but he'll the sounds around the cabin to a minimum. -He knows congestion can cause sinus headaches, and he doesn't want you to be in any more discomfort than you already are. -He reads silently, but he still wants to sit beside you. -He likes patting your head as you head it in his lap, so he still feels like your little nightly ritual continues even in your illness. -He doesn't wait for you to fully get better before putting you back to work. -Once your fever breaks it's back to keeping him company.

Avery -This is quite an inconvenience for him. -You had to miss your date, because you fell ill, and he looked like a fool waiting for you to show up. -When he sees you around town one day, he pulls over to yell at you. -But you look like SHIT. He can immediately tell you've come down with something. -He's still pissed, but he kinda understands… -He offers to drive you to the doctor. -He stays in the waiting room while you have your appointment. -You're honestly surprised to see him still there when you leave. -He says not to make a big deal out of it. -He can't have his arm candy looking half-dead. -Even if you are sick, looking that ragged is bad for his reputation. -He drives you home, but he doesn't drive you back to the orphanage. -He brings you to some hotel. -He knows the kind of squalor you live in. Being in that filth can't help your recovery time. -He pays for you to have a room for a few days. -Room service brings you your meals. -He calls you every day to make sure you're resting and taking your medicine. -He'll know if you're lying. -When you're better, he expects his kindness to be paid back in droves.

Sydney -He'll make sure to pray for your health from now on when he visits the temple. -He makes sure you're still eating and drinking plenty of fluids! -You can't get better if you don't give your body fuel to fight off the illness. -He likes taking care of you… -Your face is so flushed due to the fever. -Your nose is clogged up due to the mucus, so you have to pant and breathe through your mouth. -He watches your chest rise and fall with labored breaths. -…He tries to ignore that sight. -But you make it rather difficult. -The way you weakly reach out for him, the way you call out his name so soft and weak… -You really need him, don't you? -He's taking care of you because he cares. -Not for any ulterior motive. -Not for any joy on the power he has over you. -He'd never use that power to harm you after all. He's a good boy. -…But the fact he could do something, well, maybe he thinks about the possibilities a little too much. -He's happy when you're feeling better. -He misses seeing you so weak before him.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Hi blueberry!! Since I'm hyperfixated on yandere e42!miles (again) here's a couple of scenarios I thought of! (I'm still getting used to giving ideas/ asks 😭 )

Him finding out / overhearing someone picking on reader

Finding out where reader lives

Seeing reader in public/ having a interaction in public

How Miles would act on readers birthday

Partners with miles

Class secret Santa with miles

It can be during the relationship with miles or pre relationship (I like pre relationship tho)

Can be drabbles or hcs!!

(I'm gonna be so embarrassed if you don't see this )

i saw. it's my fault that i'm taking forever.

You hated how close he was. No matter how many steps you made to create distance to get away from him, he'd cover it. You couldn't ignore him because he'd just keep talking, and even if you tried to press him to the point of making him leave, he'd flip the script on you and wouldn't take you seriously at all. You couldn't physically beat him in a fight if you wanted to, either. You just felt so powerless.

You clench your jaw and keep your eyes on the front doors leading to the outer campus of the school. But even if it was close enough to see, it was still far enough for your bully to get his piece in.

"Let me walk you home, ma."

"I said no."

"You need to stop with that distancing shit. We've known each other too long for you to be all cold with me, you feel?"

"No, I don't fucking feel, nigga. Leave me alone."

"Shit, okay."

Yet, here he was, close enough to continue whispering into your ear. You fucking hated his stupid smirk on his face, that dumbass cologne he wears that gives you a headache, and his mouth. He can just never ever shut up. He always wants to push you on the edge.

And sadly, you were at that edge. Your stomach hurt from eating some weird shit earlier, your period wasn't helping with that, you didn't get sleep last night and you just wanted to go home and have some personal space for once.

His hand goes to grab your tense arm and once you feel him breaching past your comfort zone and breaking your limits simultaneously, you would've shoved him off of you if it wasn't for someone yanking him a good 5 feet away from you.

Both of your heads turn to the person that put themselves in your shitty situation and see Miles, fuming, holding your bully by his collar. You were taken aback by his random entrance, and was especially left with your mouth agape at the way he was confronting your bully.

You've heart multiple stories from kids all around your school about how Miles was. How he gets into crazy ass fights every single day for possibly no fucking reason. About how he gives everyone the cold shoulder, has a crazy mouth and gives no one mercy. How he has no friends, scares everyone away and gives everyone shit. You didn't believe anything because he was so nice to you. Always chill and looking out for you. But you didn't miss the looks people gave you, ones of disbelief when they'd see him open up to you like they were seeing an entire other side of him.

Maybe you were the blind one.

"Watch where the fuck you putting yo hands, nigga." He was spitting them words in that boy face like no one was watching. People began coming around corners, popping up out of nowhere to see who was shouting. Your bully made a full 180, raising his hands, telling Miles he didn't want any trouble and was just poking fun at you. Miles was having none of it.

Miles shoved him into the closest locker as if he was a stuffed animal, the sound of the harsh collision booming echoing in the hallways. Even when you went to grab Miles, he never loosened his death grip on the poor guy, simply brushing you off.

"Miles. Miles just let him go."

"Nah, give me a second, babe."

Give it another second, and the boy is on the ground, continuous iron hits ruining his face. Every time Miles' knuckle makes contact with their face, you cringe in disgust and everyone just moves on with their day, knowing they'd be next if they interfered.

He just seemed to punch harder the more you attempted to pull him off of the boy and once you jerked him hard enough by the arm, you got him to stumble off from being on top of him and you tried to ignore the blood dripping from his hands.

"Lets go."

Everyone stared as you basically dragged him towards the entrance of the school. Miles kept his eyes on your bully like he wouldn't forget his face until he was dead. It terrified you. Everything was rubbing you the wrong way.

When the cold outside breeze hit your face, you didn't stop walking until you turned the corner away from watching eyes and gave Miles a look.

Why

He gave you one back that didn't comfort you.

I had to. Please understand

You fear this was going to turn into a never-ending loop with him.

[rafferty3207]

hi! could i request jamie x reader. neighbours. annoyance to lovers please?

I loved this idea and also got massively carried away as always, so this will have to be split in two parts!

warnings: two horny idiots as usual, swearing, artist fem!reader, nudity

Too Good to be True (part one)

You knew it was too good to be true.

When your mum’s quirky bohemian friend Sylvia told you that she needed someone to house sit over the summer, you never realised it would look like this. You had always known she was well-off, but it turns out Sylvia was rich rich. Her house was in a beautiful area of London you had never been before, full of tall semi terraced Georgian buildings with big ornate gardens. It was the sort of area almost exclusively frequented by yummy mummies and incognito celebrities.

As you walk around all the gorgeous rooms, tenderly stroking the furniture, you felt like you couldn’t have wished for a nicer place if you tried. After living in an awful house share with terrible roommates for the last six months, you were ready for some alone time.

This was not to be. On your first day in the house, after several hours exploring all the nooks and crannies, you eventually fall asleep in her massive bed around midnight; however, you are rudely awoken about four hours later by the sound of arguing outside. You try to ignore them but it only gets louder, until you are forced to put on one of Sylvia’s many(!) silk robes and investigate.

You march outside to see two men facing each other in the doorframe of the house attached to yours.

“Would you two mind shutting the fuck up? It’s 4am and some of us are trying to sleep?”

They both turned around. They are both incredibly handsome; one is dark and surly looking and standing outside with his arms crossed. The other has an incredible jawline and floppy boyband hair, and is still standing in the doorway. The boyband one looks you up and down and you feel your cheeks heat up. It’s times like these you regretted sleeping in the nude, as you huddle the way-too-thin robe tightly around you. He eventually folds his arms indignantly and opens his mouth.

“Love, you don’t understand, we’re -”

“I do not give a flying fuck who you are, just be quiet. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months and I’m not about to have two bozos ruin it with their lover’s tiff.” 

You huff, turning swiftly back indoors before a sharp night’s breeze could expose you.

The surly man who had remained quiet for this entire exchange turns to his friend.

“I like her.”

____

The next morning, you open the front door to find a small beautiful wrapped box.On the label it just says,

Hey Neighbour,

Sweet Dreams 

Jamie xx

Jamie. That must have been the floppy haired one.

You tentatively open it to find a small pair of earplugs. The cheeky git. 

However, that night when you climb into bed, you spot the box of earplugs. You don’t want to use them out of spite, but also you are shattered and couldn’t risk getting woken up again.

You were surprised to wake up a whole 12 hours later. It's the best you've felt in a long time. You look up the earplugs online and it turns out they are very expensive. He may be rude, but at least he wasn't cheap. You consider thanking him, especially as you start regularly seeing him stretching or working out in the garden, until one day he catches you looking.  He waves at you with the smug grin of a prick who knows how good he looks, and you have to immediately walk away. At this point you decide never to talk to him again if you can help it. After all, it was just one summer - how much could you see him really?

It’s the next Sunday when you are walking home from your weekly shop in perhaps your grossest sweats, hair everywhere and glasses still on. To make matters worse, you're struggling as you always buy too much to fit into your bag.

It’s at this point when some dreadful orange sports car pulls up next to you and honks their horn, making you nearly jump out of your skin and drop half your stuff on the ground. You turn around just to see a familiar smug face as he waves at you before speeding off. No, he is a prick.

After you make it home, you decide to forget all about him. But these are old houses, and the walls are thinner than you’d like. More specifically, a week or so later, as you get into bed you think you can hear a voice. You think it may be a ghost, until you hear a distinct Mancunian twang and you realise that Jamie’s bedroom is directly connected to yours (or at least one of them was, who was to say how many bedrooms these sorts of houses had.) It’s when you hear another, softer voice that you realise that maybe Jamie has company.

But it’s fine. He’s allowed to have people over. You go back to your book until ten minutes later, when you start hearing very different noises. He definitely was not alone. And clearly whoever he was with was having a great time.

Your stomach tightens. This isn't just annoying at this point, it’s downright depressing. You can't remember the last time someone made you feel like that. As much of a patronising shit as he was, you had to admit that Jamie was very attractive. You try to keep reading, but you soon find your imagination straying into unwanted territory. Your entire body goes flush when you catch yourself, so you put your earplugs in and go to sleep. Eventually.

—-

It's a blisteringly hot day and you've made the mistake of buying yet another heavy shop. As you're walking home, you're covered in sweat. You're trying to get home as fast as you can before some of the food defrosts in this heat, but it's like wading through hot sticky mud.

You take one more step and suddenly feel a bit lightheaded. You stagger to a nearby wall and sit down, looking down at your feet. It's at this point that of course you see out of the corner of your eye, a familiar orange car pulling up in front of you. You wave a hand away.

"Not now Jamie." 

"Are you alright?"

You look up and he's got a genuine look of concern on his face.

"Yeah, I just needed a breather. If you haven't noticed, it's very hot out here."

He pauses for a moment.

"Did you want a lift?"

"I'm good, thanks. It's not that far."

"Don't be daft, just get in the car."

"Jamie -"

"It's got really good air con."

You look at your bags. You really didn't want the food to go bad in this heat.

"Fine."

You drop your bags into the bag and slide into the seat next to him. You can't help but notice how gross and sweaty you were on his nice leather seats.

"Sorry, I'm very gross and sweaty." You immediately say without thinking.

He looks over and laughs.

"Trust me, this car has seen a lot worse."

You groan.

"Oh come on, I don't need to imagine that."

"I just meant after training, Jesus woman, get your head out of the gutter!"

"Training for what?"

He laughs again. "You're joking, right?"

You shake your head.

"You seriously don't know who I am?"

"Should I?"

He smiles as he looks back out to the road.

"Nah, I guess not."

You look around his car.

"All I need to know is that you've clearly got more money than sense."

"Oi, I'm doing you a favour here like a bloody gentleman!"

“I mean I don’t know if this is really a favour. You could be kidnapping me for all I know.”

“Love, I’ve got more than enough money. I do not need to kidnap some random bird for a ransom.”

“Who says you’re doing it for money?”

He sighs and shakes his head.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible, or just practical? Us ‘random birds’ have got to look out for ourselves.”

“Well then, Your Highness, we have arrived.” Jamie signals to your door as the car pulls to a stop.  “You can get out now, I promise.”

You get out and go to get your bags,but Jamie quickly grabs them and is walking to your door. You run ahead, making sure you’ll be able to get in and clear any embarrassing debris before he can see it.

"You don't have to do that, you know." 

He shrugs. "I used to help my mum carry her shopping all the time when it was just me and her. Now I just pay to get it delivered to her house." 

You stop at the front door. The admission strikes you. You wondered for a moment what Jamie was like when he was younger. You wondered where his dad was. However, Jamie didn’t understand your silence.

“I’m not trying anything, I swear. I won’t come in and …” He looks around. “Steal your knickers or whatever.”

You scoff as you turn around.

“That’s a weird thing to say.”

He huffs in exasperation.

“Look, my arms are going to drop off, can you just open the bloody door already?”

“Alright, but if any one of my knickers are gone, you’re in serious trouble.” 

“Aye aye captain.” He tries to salute, but wacks himself in the face with one of the bags. You stifle a laugh, before letting him in. He smiles at you for a moment, and you feel an unfamiliar warm feeling in your chest. Best to just ignore that and get back to the task at hand.

As you put everything away, he looks around. There are unfinished canvas and paint everywhere.

"Are you one of them fancy pants artists then?"

"Not yet. I'm one of those unpaid ones.” You suddenly feel very shy. “I'm just house-sitting for the summer, I'm not rich. Unlike you.”

“So no one is paying your ransom then?”

“No one would pay good money for me. In fact, they might actually pay you for taking me away.” You say it flippantly, but Jamie sees the slightly dejected look on your face.

“So maybe you should be the one kidnapping me, eh? I tell you, I’d go for a pretty penny.” He gently biffs your arm. You don’t look at him, continuing to pack away the shopping.

“Well if I ever have to turn to a life of crime, you’ll be the first to know.”

He stands around for a minute, as if he’s not sure what to do with himself, before going to leave.

“Thanks, by the way.” You call out.

He turns around and shrugs.

“Any time.”

“I wouldn’t say that if I were you. Next thing you know, you’ll be my personal Uber.”

He jogs down the front steps, without looking back.

“Only if you start tipping!”

___

A few days later, you're gardening when suddenly a ball crashes into the ground right near your hand. You scream, causing Jamie to pop his head over.

"Jesus Jamie, are you trying to kill me?"

You stand up and dust your knees. He's got that concerned look on his face yet again. 

"Are you alright?"

You reassure him. "I'm fine, you just missed me.” You pinch your fingers almost together. “Just."

He looks sheepish.

"I'm sorry."

You fold your arms.

"You should be."

As you say this, two other men peer their head over the fence.

"Sorry miss. We're just playing a round of cricket."  One replies in a soft Welsh accent. Behind them, you notice the surly man sitting in the back of the garden, who nods at you.

"Roy's taking a break if you want to join?" Jamie offers you the bat.

"Are you asking me to play with you Jamie?" 

"Well, you're less likely to get hit in this garden."

"Hmmm." You think of all the empty canvas you were ignoring. "Fine, but let me get changed first."

As you start to walk into the house, one of the boys turns to Jamie.

"You didn't tell me your neighbour was fit."

"Isaac, don’t even think about it.”  Jamie chides him. Something about this made your stomach feel squiggly, but you couldn’t put a name on it. 

This squiggly feeling means it takes you a little longer than planned to get dressed, as you meticulously scrub the dirt from your hands and knees and maybe apply a tinted lipbalm or two. By the time you come back out, the men seem to have doubled and one of them has somehow set up a barbecue. The game of cricket seems long forgotten as they sit and drink around the fire pit. You pick up a beer bottle and wander around, trying to slip into one of the group conversations.

“When do you think Ted and Rebecca will get together?” A man with a strong french accent says.

“I dunno, I still think him and Trent have got something going on.” Colin muses thoughtfully. Isaac nods with him.

“Yeah man, there were vibes between them at Christmas.”

You decide to pipe up now before you have to figure out who Ted, Trent or Rebecca was.

"Sorry to interrupt, but how do you all know each other?".

The boys look at each other, then Jamie.

"We all play football together." Jamie finally breaks the silence.

"Oh that's cute!” You look around at this crew. They are all very handsome, but all looked very different, from all walks of life.  “It's so hard to make friends as an adult I find, so it's good to have hobbies. Do you think I'll be allowed to come to one of your matches?"

They all look at each other again and start to laugh. You think you've missed something but you figure it's some inside joke.

One of the guys, who you think you heard referred to as Sam, leans forward. "So Miss, what do you do for a living?" 

You take a swig from your bottle.

"I'm an art teacher. I teach at the local college, although it's mainly adult evening classes. You know the saying, ‘those who can't do, teach’.  At least, that’s what my dad likes to say."

"But you can do though." Jamie pipes up from behind his beer. "I've seen all them canvas in your house."

"Ah, you are a painter. Are you more of a modernist or post modernist?" Jan, the tall Dutch one asks.

"I don’t know, I mean I've got a show at the end of the summer which I'm preparing for but I'm not very good-"

"If you've got a show you must be good. Or at least someone thinks so." Jamie folds his arms.

“I mean, I guess, the guy at the gallery did personally invite me-.”

“There you go.” Jamie nodded triumphantly.

“Can we see them? The paintings?” Sam asked.

“Not yet! They are nowhere near ready!” This was somewhat true. For the most part, you had barely started. You had been struggling for inspiration lately, but you weren’t going to tell this extremely attractive group of men that. “You’ll have to come to the art show. I’ve got some flyers in the house. I can get them if you like?”

The boys enthusiastically nod, and you make sure to hand them each one, with Jamie receiving the last flyer. Your fingers brush for a moment, and you find yourself staring at each other a bit too long until you are interrupted by a loud cough.

“The meat is ready, Jamie.” Roy loudly announced.

“Coming!”

The rest of the night goes quickly in a blur, as all the boys bombard you with questions and you find yourself chatting to all of them in depth. You’re pretty sure you know all their life stories by the end of it. Eventually, the night wears on and they all slope off one by one until it’s just you, Jamie and Roy left. Roy is sound asleep on Jamie’s couch, and the two of you quietly start cleaning up.

“You don’t have to help me, you know.” Jamie says. “I’m a big boy, I can clean up after meself.”

You drop a can into the recycling bag.

“I know. But a nice guy dropped me off when I was struggling to take my shopping home, so I thought I’d return the favour.”

Jamie stopped what he was doing.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

You looked at him confused.

“I know.”

The two of you go back to tidying in silence.

“So, Isaac thinks I’m fit, does he?”

Jamie drops the bottle he was holding. He frantically grabs a dustpan and brush and frantically starts brushing the broken glass. Roy stirs for a minute, then rolls back over. You gently took the dustpan off him and empty it into the bin.

“No! Er, I mean, he does, but he thinks anything with a pulse is fit.”

“So you’re saying he’s got low standards?”

“No, that’s not what I meant, it’s just- just-”

“I’m teasing. I obviously know that just means he has excellent taste.”

“And I thought I had a big head.”

“I mean, you do, but that’s beside the point.”

“Oi, I can say it, but you can’t!” At this point, Jamie puts down the bag and picks up the hose.

“What do you think you’re doing with that?” You ask.

“What do you think?” He says, before switching it on, chasing you with the spray. You run away, screaming.

“I’ll get you for this!” 

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do to me?” He moves the hose to catch you again, but at the exact same time Roy walks outside and Jamie catches him in the face. You both freeze.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow, Jamie!” You quickly leave, waving a goodbye as you start to hear the beginning of Roy’s bollocking.

Later, as you go up to your bedroom and dry your hair with a towel, you spot Jamie and Roy chatting in the garden. Jamie looks up at you and smiles. You smile and wave back, before pointing at your still soaking t-shirt.

“I hope you’re proud.” You mouth at him. He shrugs and you shake his head.

Roy turns to Jamie.

“When are you just going to fucking ask her out already?”

___

After the barbecue you start to see Jamie more often. 

He almost always drops you home from your big shop,  and sometimes drops you there too. He always says hello when you're in the garden and even starts asking for gardening advice. 

One day, when it is too hot, you buy a child's paddling pool to sit in your bikini. Jamie, who has been trying and failing to do his workout in the sun, asks if he can join you and the two of you sit in it in silence until the sun goes down. Both of you are definitely not checking each other out behind your sunglasses when the other isn’t looking.

Then one night, you go out with some of your old university friends. What was meant to be just one drink turns into several bottles and you find yourself outside the front door at 3am trying to get the key to work. 

After what feels like forever, you hear a door open.

"Oh, how the turn tables."

"Hello Jamie." You slur a little, swaying gently. "If you don't mind I could really do with focusing right now."

"Well it seems like you are doing just fine without me, so I'll leave you to it." He goes inside, sighing before coming straight back out again.

"Do you want to come in? Maybe have a cup of tea? Some toast?"

Your shoulders sag, "I would love that, yes. My feet are absolutely killing me." You follow him as enthusiastically as you can while he gently takes your arm and guides you in.

You flop down on the couch, quickly taking off your shoes and putting your feet up.

"Jamie, how long have you lived here?"

"About six months, why?"

"There's no decoration in here at all. This is the house of a killer, Jamie." He pops back around holding two mugs.

"I mean, I dunno. I'm not sure how to make it look good.

"It doesn't have to look good. It's your house. It just has to make you happy. What makes you happy Jamie?"

He takes a minute to think, screwing up his face in concentration.

“Bums?”

“Bums?”

“I like what I like.”

“Hmmm. We can work with that. Perhaps a big tasteful nude somewhere around here.” You wave your hand towards the fireplace.

“Do you paint nudes?” Jamie pauses for a moment. “Nude is them pictures of naked people right?”

“Yeah they are and are you asking me to paint you a nude Jamie? Men usually slide into my DMS for that sort of thing.”

“Not like that. I just think your art is really cool. It reminds me of that guy…what’s his name? Frankie Bakeoff?”

“Francis Bacon?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“He’s actually one of my inspirations. You know, you've got a good eye Jamie.”

He sits down, placing the mugs on the table. 

“Er, I’ve got two good eyes actually.” He remains completely deadpan and at this point, you let out a proper laugh. 

“You know I never asked you what you do for a living. I mean, you’re obviously a comedian but you know, for money. Especially to live in a place like this.”

“I’m a footballer.”

“Haha, yeah, good one.”

“I don’t know why that’s so hard to believe. My name is Jamie Tartt and I play for AFC Richmond.” 

You squint at him, before pulling out your phone. You type in “Jamie Tartt.” And suddenly there are thousands and thousands of articles and pictures with tiny Jamies staring back at you.

“Oh my god. And all those boys at the BBQ -”

“They are my teammates.”

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” You cry out, putting your face in your hands. “I told all of them about my dad’s five a side! They must all think I’m a complete idiot!”

“Nah. They all thought it was pretty cute.”

“I’m glad someone finds my stupidity cute.”

“I dunno, I think a lot of stuff you do is cute.”

Your face goes red. He can’t have meant that. You look at him. He truly is beautiful, although he must know it. You remembered the woman in his room. He could get anyone and you know it.

“Have you ever done modelling Jamie?”

“I mean yeah. I’ve done shoots for stuff. Adidas, Nike and my own fragrance for men, Tarttbreaker.”

“What the hell does that even mean? You know what, never mind, I was just wondering..would you fancy posing? For a painting?” You look at your feet. “It’s just, I’m so sick of painting myself and oranges at this point.”

His eyes light up.

“Really? You want to paint me?”

“Don’t let it go to that massive head of yours Tartt.”

“I can’t promise anything.” He sits down next to you, placing the mugs on the table. The throbbing in your feet still hasn’t gone away, and without thinking you start rubbing your soles. Curse those beautiful shoes, you think to yourself.

“Here, I can help with that.” You didn’t realise Jamie was staring at your feet.

“What?”

“Trust me, I’m really good at foot rubs.”

“Is this some weird foot thing?”

“No, you perv. My physio showed me some really good tricks. You know the physio I have because I am a professional footballer, yeah?” You roll your eyes as he gently takes your foot.

“You’re never going to let me live that do-”

You can’t finish the sentence as you are distracted by just how good it feels. A small “fuck” slips out.

“Is that alright? I didn’t hurt ya, did I? I can stop.”

“No, no no no. No.”

You are surprised by your own enthusiasm. He slowly starts again, and you say nothing, until a small moan slips out. Jamie’s head suddenly whips up. 

“I mean, I think my ankles are more sore than anything -” He moves his hands up, moving his thumbs in slow circles. You thought this would improve things, but it’s just making things worse. Your heart is racing.

“And what about your calves?”

You nod dumbly. “They’re pretty - pretty sore too.”

His hands hesitantly move up your leg, up to your knees. His face inches closer to yours, his hands about to move down your thigh, when your stomach very loudly rumbles. He jumps up and your legs close shut.

“I was going to make you toast.”

“Yes, yes you were.” He leaves the room and you lie back on the couch. Your head is spinning.. What is going on? You think as your eyes slowly start to close. 

By the time Jamie finally returns to the room, two very distracted attempts at toast later, you are fast asleep on the couch. He picks up a blanket and covers you, before heading upstairs. He then lies down, closing his eyes for just a minute, until there is a soft knock on the door. 

“Are you ready for training, fuckhead?”

“Shh.” He points to you, sound asleep and snoring.

Roy tilts his head. Jamie whispers. “I’ll explain later.”

______

You wake up with a pounding headache. It takes you a second to realise you are not in your bed. You are on someone’s couch. Jamie’s couch.

You look at your phone. 9:03am. You look around for any sign of him, but it seems like he’s gone already. YOu decide to wash up the mugs, before you spot it on his fridge. There is no decoration in any of his flat, except one flyer that is stuck on the fridge. Your flyer.

You smile, before finding a piece of paper and a pen.

That afternoon, you return to your flat. Looking at your big canvas you know what to do.

___

Jamie finally gets back to his flat and he is exhausted. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about last night, and as he suspected, you are long gone by the time he gets home.

However, as he walks through, he notices a little note stuck on the fridge in front of your flyer. 

Thanks for the tea and the footrub.

You can wake me up any time.

X

PS. Let me know when you’re free, you poser.

With your number added to the bottom.

He can’t help but smile to himself, before wandering out into the garden.

He hopes to see you there, but you’re not. He looks back towards the house and stops dead in his tracks. He can see you in one of the rooms, in front of one of your canvas. But you are completely naked. 

He looks away. He knows he shouldn’t. But maybe he just imagined it. He takes another quick look to confirm, you are definitely naked as the day you were born. You have your back to him, but it’s clear you are looking in some sort of mirror. He suddenly realises. You’re painting yourself. He walks quickly inside and decides it’s time to go to bed. He puts his earplugs in and goes to sleep. Eventually.

Thanks for reading! You can read chapter two here!

[peeterparkr]

thus, with a kiss, i die| tom holland

PROLOGUE: the rivalry.

romeo & juliet modern au.

summary: the well known story of star-crossed lovers. Your local bar has two spots for bands, but only one spot for an opportunity to get a record deal. Your band, the Capulets and his band, the Montagues have been rivals long enough. But what happens after a night when you get to know their lead singer?

chapter summary: who are the great rivals at the Verona bar?

pairing: singer!tom holland x guitarrist!reder

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention

word count: 3k

this is literally romeo and juliet, it's one of my favorite stories, if you've read my other works you KNOW I love to quote it, and reference and eveyrhting. Anyway, this is my take on it. Modern world, hope you like it. I haven't written anything in ages so here goes.

character glossary next chapter masterlist

wanna be tagged?

This is an unequivocally known story, a tale as old as time, of those of two star crossed lovers, who most likely lost their mind. Star-crossed lovers, they call them as if the stars were undeniably conspiring against them. Are the stars really against secret, illicit-feeling escapades of a young, naive love, so powerful and strong that it ends up in death?  

Or were they too busy to help them out when everything went insane? 

Shakespeare said it himself, didn’t he? ‘Violent delights have violent ends’. Perhaps the name and the reference itself doomed upon a foretold tragedy. Yet, here we are. 

And it all comes back to a simple rivalry, and thus shall start like it always does. In a small  bar named ‘Verona’, always playing live music, near a college. Nothing too unusual, nothing so fancy. With a small stage. Smoking blue and purple. With a wall full of old bottles, just to adorn. A small stage with a few vintage lights hanging from the ceiling, a worn out rug, and a neon light sign which read: ‘Don’t waste your love’. 

Where people gathered to have a beer, or two in those small wooden tables, or perhaps in the green couch, nibbling on a few snacks while they listen to one of the two bands Verona offered. 

Some liked the Capulets, an all female band. Some liked the Montagues, perhaps for the handsome lead singer. Some liked both. Some liked neither. 

But Verona was the rivalry. The rivalry between the two bands was what made Verona an interesting place, or that’s what some people liked to pry upon, the well known story about two former friends, Monty and Billie ‘Cap’ who once fought almost to death and decided to each go their separate ways and declare themselves sworn enemies. 

Things hadn’t been quite the same since. Each formed their own band in an act of revelry and had tried to crush the other. The Capulets were known for their soul-crushing lyrics, meanwhile the Montagues were known for their remarkably outstanding sounds. As said before, their lead singer was quite someone that moved crowds. Pleasing to the eye. 

The Capulets had recently lost their main guitarist and a rumor of who  would join had circulated.  Monty was anxious to learn all about the new member. A war shall begin. 

In all honesty, nobody really cared about them, but both were on the edge waiting for each other's next movement. 

And in the end, they were young and naive with big wishes and hopes, with the same stupid dream that one day someone would walk in the night their gig was on and offer them the entire world. 

It was funny, how they believed so much in Verona, just a small bar, that happened to have a few legends come from. A few people said great names like Billy Joel had once played there. Drunk folks are very unreliable narrators. But not quite the most unreliable. 

Which brings us to two members of the Capulets, Georgia and Sam. The drummer and pianist, respectively. The first, a short haired, with a diverse set of earrings, a top tank and loose pants. A cigarette hung from the corner of her lips. The two of them were having a drink, knowing they would have to listen to the Montagues later, they needed some alcohol in their body to make sure they could stand the occasion. 

Some of Montague’s  crew had already arrived and were tuning in. They watched, amused. It was a fair Friday afternoon, and people were gathering already to have a beer and some chips. 

“You know, we got the Saturday gig? ”  Samantha said as she plaid with a half-full cold beer glass. Her style was more 70’s, big hair, big pants and striped shirt. “If we keep going like this we’re going to crush them.” 

“I think we should actually crush them,” said Georgia, puffing her cigarette.  “Get a whole ass piano and just dump it on them, cartoon style, y’know? Especially Tom. Gosh, I’d like to just get rid of his stupid British face. I might dislike him more than Monty.” 

Sam shrugged. “That was a great move, you’ve got to admit that.” 

“Aye, great move? Getting a pretty face just to get more audience, please,” Georgia rolled her eyes. “This should be about talent!” 

Although she knew that half the girls there were just there to see Tom. Georgia only judged them slightly. Tom was most definitely the newest sweetheart. Curls, chocolate kind eyes, and Georgia supposed he was fit. Besides, a hopeless romantic, or so the girls would say only because he had an accent. Perhaps they all believed he was the next Hugh Grant. 

“Perhaps Cap should bring in someone as beautiful, y’know? As bait.” 

Georgia rolled her eyes once again. Although it didn’t sound as stupid. And perhaps that’s why Cap had decided to bring in someone as beautiful. Although the new member, Georgia knew, was naive and had a lot to learn, she could perhaps appeal more. And besides their looks, their talent to write, Georgia knew it was most likely to appeal to Paris, the young handsome bartender, the bar’s owner's protege, who could pitch in to have them more often. 

But they were losing right now and they both knew it. How they’d manage to convince Princess Skylar to get them the next day  was beyond them. Skylar was the bar owner, or at least she presented herself as so. Even though she was just a manager she basically owned the place. She gave out the slots as long as people were buying drinks. And lately the Montagues were bringing in more money. 

Montgomery, ‘Monty’ had brought in Tom to be his new lead singer, and they’d been booking the Saturday gigs more often since. Perhaps bringing in a wider female demographic to Verona, buying pretty cocktails. Although, Georgia thought it could be now constructive for them since the male demographic had decreased and they tend to be the ones to drink more beer. Besides, one thing they could rely on was Tom having a girlfriend, so at least the girls would eventually have to give up and go back to the heart wrenching lyrics. 

“Is it me or do they sound worse each day?” Wondered Sam as she heard a hard tune. Bea, her enemy, the Montague’s pianist was a fan of only key smashing. “Whenever I listen to them I just need to run to the bathroom and puke.” 

“No, I think you should just puke on them,” Georgia said. “I’d be your number one fan.” 

Abby, the Montague’s drummer, and Georgia’s number one enemy had overheard. Georgia said her technique lacked enthusiasm. While Abby said Georgia lacked any technique. 

Both were wrong. 

“Whatcha say?” Abby questioned. “Did y’all come here to learn?” 

“Learn?” Sam stood up with her beer. “Learn how not to play, am I right Georgia?” 

Sam wasn’t good with comebacks. Georgia pulled her back down. 

Abby chuckled. “If you play like that then I won’t worry anymore.” 

“Ah,” grinned Georgia raising her own drink, vodka soda. “So you are worried. Gotcha.” 

Abby rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe you’re invited here.” 

Ben, another member of the Montagues and the reason they had a new lead singer was nearby plugging in his instrument. Not as handsome as the others, people would say, but he was peaceful. “Let them be, Abby. They can be here.” 

He often tried to ignore them, he was there for the music and the music only. He thanked Monty for giving him the chance to be there and disregarded the stupid rivalry. He was the bassist, and had become quite popular now that he was acquainted with Tom.��

He didn’t like any trouble… unlike Theodora, another member of the Capulets who was with them at the bar but had been quiet enough. It was hilarious how they often were angered by the other’s presence and yet neither tried any other place to hang out. 

Theodora searched for the trouble. Perhaps Theodora was the one to hate the most of the Montagues. All of them and especially their newest member. She was the scariest of the Capulets, impulsive and with probably some anger issues. She despised them, and wasn’t afraid to show it. 

“Eh, for sure we can be here. It’s a bloody bar. But you could try and kick us out. Don’t be such a pussy, Ben Dover,”  Theodora’s first statement was one to make heads turn.

Ben turned to look at her from his bass. “I’d rather not get tired, unlike you I care more about my music.” 

“Why does it sound like a bunch of people farting then?” Asked Sam. Again, she wasn’t good at this. 

But before he could even respond, Bea, the pianist had already begun the… fight, if you could call it one. Apparently the fart statement had been the one to bother her, funnily enough. 

She’d stormed over, yelling and screaming nonsense. Raising her hands and giving them fingers. 

Very classy.

Georgia and Sam had stood up to walk over to the stage. Bea had continued a rampage of all the cuss words she could think of and calling them out on their lack of talent and accusing them of coming here only to plagiarize their songs, to which Theodora kindly answered they couldn’t plagiarize a ‘pile of pure shit’ unless they went to the bathroom. Sam had continued with the fart insults. 

Ben only stood there watching them and trying and failing to calm them down.

Soon, the other poor customers at the bar were involved in the fight, trying to incentivize the company. Some others were drunk enough to fight with them and others just enjoyed the show. 

Billie, ‘Cap’, who had acquired the nickname from quite a young age, by making everyone call her ‘O’ cap’n my cap’n’ after making The Dead Poets Society her entire personality, had walked in along with her girlfriend, Clara. Cap was usually chill. A great leader, a great singer and a great friend. Unless, of course, you betray her. She’d been betrayed by Monty, whom she’d now nicknamed Slap-Dick. 

“Christ.” Cap muttered as soon as she saw the scene. Part of her band only raised glasses, fingers and lame insults and she was sure she’d just seen a beer can fly by. “Angel,” she turned sweetly to Clara. “Will you please hold this?” As she handed over her purse. 

“What for?” Clara questioned. 

“Yes, I might need to throw some hands— oh, how interesting, see who just walked in, the scum himself, Slap-Dick,” she greeted. 

Monty, one hand on his girlfriend’s, Maddie, waist, and one hand holding his guitar walked in. Cap scrunched her nose with disgust. 

“The fuck are you doin’ here Cap’n Crunch,” Monty snapped. “It’s our gig tonight, please get your vulgar and uncivilized twats out.” 

“I’m pretty sure your darling band if we can dare to call it that, was the one to start this,” Cap crossed her arms. Cap knew her own crew was not good at insulting. Although as she eyed Theodora she thought she may have been wrong in her initial statement. Still, she continued. “Your zoo is making all of this noise.” 

“Oh! Fuckin—.” Monty laughed but thankfully was interrupted before he could say anything that would make the show even better. 

“Stop!” Skylar had yelled, breaking a bottle against the wall as all the lights were turned off and the faint ambiance music stopped playing. She liked drama. “For fuck’s sake, stop!” 

Everyone felt the air cold, paused in the middle of the argument. The lights were turned back on, completely, leaving nothing to the imagination. It was chaos, as if a hurricane had hit the entire bar. Theodora was holding Ben by his shirt, Bea was standing on a chair, Sam and Abby just stood in front of each other. The other drunken clients just stood there awkwardly. Standing ever so slightly less elegant. 

“I’m so fucking done with this,” Skylar said. “Stop you assholes, this is the third time this month.” She made her way through the tables and snapped her fingers down twice at Bea, motioning for her to get down. “I don’t care about your stupid feud,” she continued as she snatched Theo’s hand off Ben. “ It's so stupid, you’re both terrible bands,”  she said as she walked in between Sam and Abby, separating them as both fueled with rage. “If this doesn’t stop,” she said, taking Georgia’s drink now and taking a sip for her. “And I’m talking to you both now,” she turned to watch Cap and Monty. “I’m going to cut you off, deadass. Not one more gig for either. Do you understand?”

Both tried to complain. 

“I said, do you understand?” Skylar was firm. 

“Yes, princess,” Monty hissed the nickname. Montgomery Williams was exactly the guy you’d think of when you thought of a guy who formed a band and played the lead guitar. His dark hair fell to his eyebrows and his cheeks were sucked in enough for him to be considered handsome. He was often seen with a pair of dark jeans and a new band t-shirt. A cigarette was his trademark accessory. Bulked enough but, not really. And he was often accompanied by his newest pursuit, this time, Maddie, a girl whose clothes were probably bought too tight on purpose. 

“Now, Capulets, please give me the pleasure of your kicking you out,” Skylar said

Montgomery smirked. 

“No, no, Monty, don’t get  your hopes up. They don’t play until tomorrow, so from now on whenever the other band is playing the rivals cannot step in here, otherwise I’ll fuck you up,” Skylar threatened. 

“I wanted a beer,” Cap complained earning a deathly glare from Skylar. “Fine, princess!” She took a deep breath. “Caps, let’s go get wasted at my place!” She ordered and her mates followed after. 

Skylar had her arms crossed at the entrance as they walked out and the members of the Montagues clapped. She rolled her eyes. 

“‘Lright everyone, if anyone causes another disturbance I’ll—“

“Fuck us up,” Monty finished. He clapped his hands and pushed Skylar from her shoulders back to the bar. “Absolutely, no worries, Sky, we’re very civilized and we will give you the best show tonight. We’re classy!” 

“Don’t touch me again,” was the last threat she gave before heading back to her office.

Monty gave her a fake smile and then turned to Ben. “The fuck happened?” 

Ben made his way back to the stage as he was followed by the rest of the band. “Honestly, Georgia and Sam were just here chilling. Abby overheard them and wanted to snap at them, I tried to calm them down but Theodora, you know Theodora.”

“Insane bitch, yeah.”

“Theodora just snapped and then it’s a blur,” Ben explained. 

“Fuckin’—“ Monty pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mkay, well. We can’t let them, you know, get on our nerves, that what they want, they want to get rid of us, no matter what, they don’t even care if they go down with us,” Monty said. “So, uh—yeah, especially now that Tom joined us they’re desperate.” 

His band mates only nodded with agreement. 

“And— where the hell is he?” Monty frowned, noticing just now that his lead singer was nowhere to be seen. “We play soon, that idiot,” he rubbed his face with stress. Although he loved to pride himself on being better than Cap, he was often found with insecurities because deep down he believed he wasn’t. 

Monty was especially scared now that he knew Cap was going to present her secret weapon the very next day. Why they were given a Friday instead of a Saturday was scary for him. Who had they brought in? 

Perhaps, the Tom furor was finally gone after a few weeks, considering that although more women were parading in Verona, they would soon be gone as soon as they found out Tom was not available and not willing to flirt with them. Even when Monty had encouraged it, the guy would just politely decline it. 

And now, they had the Saturday gig. The most important gig, and although Friday was next in line, he knew that important people showed up on Saturdays. Not Fridays.  

Though he didn’t blame it entirely on Tom’s reluctance to flirt. He knew Cap had pulled her cards right. And he knew it had something to do with Skylar. Had anyone slept with her? Or had they given her money? Had their songs penetrated Skylar’s walls?

Either way. They had to have their lead singer show up. He couldn’t hide his anxiety as he approached the microphones, tapping slightly on them to try them. 

Ben coughed, watching him. 

“Ben?” Monty’s eyes widened. “Where is he?”

“Look, I haven’t heard of him since the morning,” Ben explained. 

Monty furrowed his eyebrows. 

“He did text me he would be here, but.” 

“But what?” 

“Him and Rosie broke up so he might not be feeling well, he told me he was devastated. He told me he was getting a drink before.” 

Monty heard the news. His lead singer had broken up and was devastated on a Friday night gig. Where they had to sing silly love songs and hard beats. Songs that would be ruined if not sung with the right emotion. Songs that could potentially be ruined if sung drunkenly. 

But…

“Are you telling me that…” Monty approached the mic, tapping it to make sure everyone heard him. “Did I hear that right Ben?”

“Monty.” Ben shut his eyes closed. 

“Did you just tell me our  handsome, British, sweetheart, muscly  lead singer is single now?” He questioned with a smirk knowing he’d gotten the attention. 

“Monty.” 

“Did you just tell me that?” Monty pushed. “Is Tom single?”

Ben shook his head annoyed. “Yes, Monty.” 

Monty smirked as he turned to the crowd. “Ladies… and no, actually, just the ladies, you just heard it! Our lead singer is recently single so I will need all of you to give him a warm welcome when he’s here, he’s going to need a lot of love. Will you guys help me with it?” 

And for now, he knew, he was back again at the race. 

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i'm tagging some friends and some who asked, if you want to be added to the taglist tell me if you want to be removed, no worries tell me as well! :)

tags: @lnmp89 @blondygwendy @dangerousluv1 @love-granger @kikiwritesfanfics @astoldbydanid @erodasghosts @peterdarlingg @hollandweather @annathesillyfriend @mannien

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

John Price x Reader

Wounded, bloody, and just the two of you. A mission gone wrong leads to a long overdue moment between both you and your Captain, perhaps too late to count for anything. Not if either of you two can help it at least.

Part One of Two (Possibly Three Part short story).

EDIT* I went back and proofread this again and fixed errors. I didn't realize I posted this in such a crummy state before, I'm sorry!

TW//: Blood, Violence

Angst, Drama, Action, Romance, Near Death Experiences, Confessions, slightly Dark, some Fluffy Dialogue (not a ton though), Tension, slight Suspense, slight Slow Burn, For the girlies who like when their romantic moments feel a little teased and earned, Though this might still be boring garbage, plus the real stuff doesn't start 'til part two. The "developing feelings through almost dying in front of each other" trope, my favorite trope lowkey

This was not the smut piece I have been planning to write for Price (That's still coming), I wanted to practice writing him a little and this sprung on me after playing MW 2019. Figured I'd post it, though this is just to indulge my growing obsession with this man. Let me know if he's OOC, I want to write him well! Enjoy!

Part Two | Part Three

Price's voice suddenly shouts out from the living room, frantic and wired...

"Ambush! Get behind cover!"

...However, his warnings are drowned out by the whistling of an RPG heading straight for your location. It cuts through the evening sky, coming to you as a black dot zipping by at the blink of an eye.

The rocket breaks through the window of the house you and Price had been tasked to raid for intel, as the explosion goes off against one of the walls behind you. The sound which follows is unlike any you've ever heard the likes of before. A piercing, defeaning pop; the loudest and most unpleasant thing imaginable.

The sharp, crashing boom it erupts around you is hot like fire, singing your uniform and blasting you forward. It's the last thing you remember, before being greeted into a world of swirling blacks and oranges. In pain and completely immobile. Momentarily knocked unconscious.

You're not so sure how much time passes before you come to again. Only a handful of minutes or so. Though in that span, you've listened to the sounds of growing gunfire and shouting rise like a terrifying mob outside. Coming in and out in hot flashes.

Had your Captain's shouting not broken through this foggy barrier, you would have thought you'd have just died. You wouldn't be so lucky.

"Lieutenant!" you hear him call out. His voice grows more desperate the longer he hasn't heard from you. "I'm comin'!"

As the dust began to settle, you felt yourself coming back. You groan in pain, your entire body sore from the blast. Brick and stone rubble surround you like a straightjacket. You're pretty sure the entire roof of the house had fallen on top of you just now. Beneath it all, it was hard to tell for certain.

As you lie trapped, waiting to be rescued, you couldn't help but think about the mission. You and Price should have known this was some sort of setup.

Even Laswell had doubts this lead on Makarov wasn't just some trap to lure out their rivals and take them out, but with this recent dry spell on the investigation, your team couldn't afford to pass up the chance at some potentially valuable leads. It's why Laswell kept the team small, sending only you two on this one.

An easy enough operation: infiltrate the building, gather the intel, and get out. Nothing new. Only all you've found in this rinky-dink building on the outskirts of Urzikstan was a handful of AQ remnants and their new Russian PMC allies. And they knew you two were coming too.

The marked house was empty, both of any life and intel. And not even a second later were they all on top of your location, every inch of this town and the hills that surrounded it dug in with hostiles.

You'd have to ask Price later how it was he was able to push back that hoard alone, if you can make it out of this. There's no telling what they'd do to you both if they caught you in here, and that's if they even take you in alive.

You feel bits of rubble being shifted off your body, immense amounts of pressure releasing upon their departure. It's quickly replaced by the sharp bruising and pain it's left in its wake beneath your uniform.

"I'm right here," you hear Price's voice try to soothe you from up above, that gruff Liverpool accent of his clear enough even through the strain and stress. He hasn't let you down a day since you've known him. He wasn't about to make today his first.

Another large bit of rubble gets removed, taking the darkness away and flooding light down from above.

You could have sworn you were looking at an angel when you finally made out the silhouette of the man rescuing you. Your Captain. John Price.

"I've got you," Price assures you, his words felt wracked with adrenaline, hands moving near on impulse.

His hat was gone, short brown hair in a light tussle, and dust and light soot coating the black of his uniform and scruff of his beard. It almost worried you not to see him in it; he never parts from that thing. Perhaps during the blast it had gotten caught in the crossfires and rendered unwearable.

For some reason, it only made the situation feel much more worse than you originally thought.

His blue eyes find yours beneath the rubble, and you watch all the dread he'd been juggling with subside into relief the second he hears you cough out all the dust and wall you'd inhaled, struggling to catch your breath. He sighs to himself with a smile.

He doesn't even hear the words when he says them. Price only says the first thing that came to mind the minute you've finally stopped coughing to see him again.

"Thank fuckin' Christ."

Once Price saw you weren't dead, he finished removing the rubble from off of you. It's the bit he removes from your right arm that finally pulls a pained cry out of you. It's so intense it's as though reality just now set back in for you.

Your entire right arm felt numb from the elbow down, your fingers no longer feeling attached to your body. Had you not held your breath and sucked up the courage to look (with your peripherals first), you would have thought you'd lost your arm in the explosion.

Though it didn't make it any less broken and fucked. Nor did it make it any easier to not become fearful of what this could mean for you.

The Captain immediately notices the condition of your arm once he's cleared the debris off you. Cursing under his breath, Price helps you to your feet, brushing as much dirt from you as he can.

"You broken?" he asks. "Apart from the arm?"

You feel for what weapons still remained attached to your body after the blast, finding just a slender knife and your holstered pistol. Only two clips though. Of course.

Your arm and entire backside ached something fierce, and your brain felt as though it had been rattled inside your head and then some. If you shut your eyes now, you feared fainting dead away, and the ringing in your ears has yet to subside.

But your current state would have to do. It's that or die here. You knew that, and Price knew that too.

"I'm still here, Captain."

Price smiles, his gaze softening for just the slightest second. Happy to see his training and advice being taken seriously.

It just now was beginning to dawn on him that you hadn't died in here with him either. Seeing you OK and still ready to fight felt fuel enough for the Captain to keep going.

"That you are," he says.

Price parts from you to take post back by the freshly made hole in the wall, readying his rifle. Most of the building had collapsed in on itself, with the exception of the back of the house still being mostly intact.

Outside you could see the mountain of bodies Price had no doubt created while you were buried. None made it too close to where your position was.

With the coast temporarily clear, the current objective at hand remained the same: Get to the Evac Zone stat and get the hell out of dodge.

"This building's gonna be surrounded by Russians and AQ in less than a minute if we don't bug out now," Price warns. "And there'll be more where that came from, so ready yourself for a fight."

"Price..."

The Captain looks back at you, hearing the sudden dread in your voice. It takes him having to have stepped away from you to finally see that something really was up.

Your eyes look down to his waist, where you see the blood beginning to pool at his hip, staining his clothing and growing larger by the minute. It's clear he'd used what he could to try and wrap it, though it hadn't been enough. The adrenaline must have taken his mind away from it.

It figures you weren't the only one who got wounded here.

You look back up at Price, worried. Quiet.

Price looks down at his wound, placing a hand against it and seeing the warm, wet liquid coat his tattered glove. Whether it be a front or really only a flesh wound, Price doesn't dare break composure in front of you. You both would need him clearheaded.

"It's nothin' fatal," he simply tells you.

You knew Price wouldn't make a big deal about his injury, even if it were serious, which you honestly could not tell from where you were standing. You also knew Price wouldn't want you to worry about it either. He never liked when you worried for him; that's his job.

The time dwindled all the same; you can worry about it when you both get home.

You look to Price with contentment. You wouldn't be another reason for his worries if you could help it. "It'll make a good story for the boys later."

Price smiles back at you. "You'll tell it better than me, I'm sure."

The growing sound of men shouting and vehicles rushing to flank your position makes your blood run cold. If you didn't leave soon, neither of you would make it out of this to tell your stories.

You try and get that adrenaline you felt before to spike back up, knowing this was a matter of life and death now. Though your body betrayed you.

Your heart won't stop racing, no matter how much you try and calm yourself. Your hands keep shaking, and you can't help but keep checking the recently blasted hole behind you and your Captain. Soon to be flooded with enemies. Afraid.

Price must have noticed your worrying, because he steps away from his position and does something completely outside of himself suddenly. Though as he did so, it couldn't have felt more natural of a thing to do. Like a gesture he's spent his whole life waiting to give you.

He rests his hand gently on your cheek, bringing your eyes forward so you could see nothing beyond his own gaze. This close, even as night falls over the town and darkness shrouds the remains of this little house, this felt the clearest you've ever looked upon your Captain.

There's a glint of determination in his eyes, all the years of experiences that have worn and torn him the older he has gotten, defining the finer parts of his features. His expression always softened at the sight of you, an act you alone pulled from him for the first time truly, now.

Price was here with you. At that moment, it was the only thing that mattered.

"Hey," his thumb caresses your cheek, his jaw clenching to keep from wincing at the pain in his abdomen. "We're alive. Let's keep it that way, yeah? I'm not leavin' here without you."

His jaw tenses once more and you think for a second he might say something else. But he holds his tongue, wanting the most for you to keep calm beside him.

You can feel it in the air around him; the captain's as bugged out as you are right now. He was just doing everything he could to keep being a leader and bottle it up, channeling those fears and turning them into fuel to keep going. His words may be more for himself, than you, but they're true enough.

You lift your good hand up and let it rest over his, feeling his hand stiffen at first, but then find its home against your palm. You didn't want to have to let go, but you knew you must eventually. So you nod. "Damn right, you're not."

Price chuckles, happy to see you on the same page. "Fuckin' A, love," he quickly quips. "Now let's move."

The rocky hills stretched further out ahead of you. At some point their edges seem to blend with the black of the sky, all the stars gone away someplace. Luck would see a full moon above your heads, providing the only bit of light on this makeshift route to the Evac Zone.

You have Price's arm over your left shoulder now, having to help him the rest of the way since you've escaped the base. No amount of tough guy act the Captain put on could prevent the amount of blood he'd been losing. Had he not started tumbling over mid-shootout suddenly, you wouldn't have even known. And you wanted to kill him yourself once you did too.

It's nothin' fatal, he had said. The lie of the fucking century, right?

By now his dark blood has practically stained the entire lower right side of his body, making his skin pale and his eyelids heavy. His movements slowed, his reflexes taking a severe hit because of it, and he was beginning to breathe heavier. You've gone through all your supplies trying to stop his bleeding before leaving the house. Nothing worked.

It had been infuriating, just as it'd been scary to realize that your Captain really did need a medic right now. If he didn't see a doctor soon, he might just bleed to death before you've made it out of here.

Of course, having to help him now meant you couldn't shoot at all, given the state of your other arm. Price helped with what he could, but even a man of his talents couldn't prevent shaky shots from increasing blood loss.

"Nikolai's not far out now," Price grunted out, doing his best to put one more clip into his pistol. The last one. "Should be a few more clicks along this trail."

"He couldn't fly a little closer," you huff out, readjusting your hold on the Captain. He wasn't a light man, and while he did everything in his power to make this easier for you, his weakening state only grew harder to carry.

"You holdin' up alright?" Price asks. You feel him once again, ready himself to try and pull away and stand on his own feet. Having to rely on you was eating away at him, you could tell.

"I'm fine," you tell him, though that's not all the way true. Your vision had started to blur, and your lungs felt on fire. Now that some time has passed, all your once numb injuries were suddenly starting to scream at you for relief. Had you not been concentrating on your steps in front of you, or the thumping of your heart inside your ringing ears, you would have fainted already.

But you were all Price had right now; there was no way you'd fail him when he needed you most. "I'm more worried about you, Captain."

"Still got my wits about me..." he says. "Maybe a little lighter now, given I've been leakin' like a faucet."

"I'd beg to differ."

"Eh, you can use the exercise, lieutenant."

"Or you can lose the weight, Captain."

You both chuckle, and for a second, it felt easier to pretend you both were somewhere else right now. Spending all the time together you only wish you had before.

The levity was needed. It kept you both sane and human, and right now, Price was kicking himself in the ass for not appreciating these moments with you sooner.

The team really lucked out when they recruited you, he saw that now. You've always made sure you were someone Price could trust. That you were someone he could depend on you. You kept a cool head and you did what you must, while staying both good-natured and sweet, despite everything.

And when everything was said and done, you came back to him, keeping a smile as neutral as his own could manage. Your eyes bright like stars with him in your sights. His would often do the same.

All the times you've been at his side before tonight, keeping his head on straight when he needed it most, and always reminding him of life outside of all of this, they've only increased over the years. In every moment it always felt as though you two only teetered at the next level of your fondness for one another. Both wanting to push further, but not wanting to push the other too quickly either.

Your roles on the team always came first; they seemed to be the most important thing at the time.

Every lingering touch, a longing gaze brought by excitement and recognition, a check-in during work, or a brief moment of conversation... that's where your relationship has stayed for years now. You both felt OK with that. You thought so at first.

However, Price knew one thing. He couldn't lose you tonight. He wouldn't. Not on his account. Not when there's so much more that can still be. John's lived long enough to know that when something feels this right, there is no time to waste, lest he lose that chance forever like he has with so many others before.

You feel Price grow slack against your side now, his blood starting to soak through your uniform. It took everything in you not to panic.

"I won't let you fall," you assure him now, adjusting him against you. "Just keep holding on."

The smell of blood is so strong, you'll never forget its scent long after you've left this place. Nor would you forget seeing your Captain this way. Hurt and broken. You know he's no stranger to it, but alas, John is still human.

"...I'm taking you out for dinner after this," Price up and says suddenly. He figures he should just throw that out there, in case he didn't get another chance to. "My treat."

You nearly trip when you hear him, as if you're heart needed any more of a reason to fluctuate. You lost count of how long you've waited to hear him say that, having spent so many nights daydreaming about a time he'd come up to you and actually asked you out. It felt like everything you imagined it would; if only it had been under better circumstances.

"Is that a promise, Captain?"

"You know I wouldn't bluff about that, love."

"Well, then you better keep it then, John."

"As you wish."

He could hardly understand how it was you were still able to push through all that growing pain in your body after taking such a blast. He couldn't be more proud of it either.

The town illuminated like a glowing city behind you, AQ and Russians creating an uproar there, regardless of your presence. It was no longer your problem, however. The approaching convoy heading your direction was.

You weren't out of the fire just yet.

You look around yourselves, only having a few large rocks and boulders to hide behind in your immediate vicinity. Little word is needed to be shared between you two before the plan was nonverbally green-lit.

You both take cover behind a large rock facing the hills, Price resting down against the rock as you took out your pistol. It was time to see if your shooting with your left hand has improved any more than it did a few minutes ago during your escape.

You peak over the stone, seeing four AQ soldiers step out with rifles and flashlights, already hot on your pursuit. Tracking the trail of blood you'd left behind. Price peaks around the other side of the rock, raising his pistol.

"You take the two on the right," he whispers. "I got left."

You nod, and then take position. Price takes the first shot, dropping both his targets with swift precision. Even wounded, the man always had a way with pistols. Forever the dead-eye shot.

You drop one AQ soldier, happy to see your aim improve. However, your heart sinks when you go to shoot the other soldier and you hear the click of your pistol suddenly. Out of ammo.

The AQ soldier fires at you, the bullet just grazing by your cheek, before another hits you straight at the center of your chest, rattling your sternum and knocking you off your feet. Without your bulletproof vest, that bullet would have torn straight through you. Though you might as well have died, with the pain it sent through you instead. Knocking the wind out of you.

Before you know it, Price has reached over and started pulling you back behind the boulder. "Hold on!" he says. "You're not dead yet."

Price goes to try and get to his knees and peek over the boulder, however, now that he's sat back behind the rock again with you, it's become an impossible task to even wiggle his feet at this point. Like his legs were losing feeling. The blood loss really was starting to catch up to him now, it seems.

So instead, Price did the next best thing, simply waiting for the AQ soldier to round the corner, which he stupidly does. The minute the enemy's head peaks over, Price shot twice for good measure, watching the man drop to the ground with a heavy thud.

"I think we're clear," he says. "Still breathing?"

"Yeah," you gasp out.

A lot of times, you're not sure if you'd make it through a lot of these missions if Price wasn't here. The true backbone of the 141. The man always just seemed to be prepared for anything, even with the odds stacked against him. Often feeling like some other worldly being on the field, unable to be truly harmed by the threats he faced.

Until now, you couldn't even picture him so hurt.

When Price went on a mission, you could trust he'd get it done, if no one else. And you could always trust he'd make it back too. One way or another. Of course, he wasn't always lucky, as rare as those days actually came. Luck seemed to only be a recent thing for him in fact, and of short supply tonight.

You push yourself up, rubbing your hand over your chest in an attempt to soothe the throbbing. You're unsure what bad juju you yourself had crossed, or why lady luck seemed on your side even despite it all, but maybe fate wanted you to make it out of here.

One of you at least.

You look over at Price and see him barely able to keep consciousness now, cold sweat forming at the sides of his face, and a puddle of blood building around his legs. His breathing broken. Dying.

Seeing him now, pale, bloodied, and relying on a rock behind him to keep himself upright... for the first time ever you felt fear for your Captain.

"No, no, no," you rush over to Price, taking hold of his face and bringing his eyes to you. Seeing them so close again wakes him somewhat. "Stay with me, Captain."

"I'm still here..." Price answers weakly. Even still, he tries to keep up an act in front of you, like he truly was fine. It only made you more afraid to lose him now. Out in some rocky hilltop in the middle of nowhere because of bad intel. You couldn't lose him like this.

You look over the boulder, seeing the convoy those AQ soldiers showed up in still running a few feet ahead of you. Just what you needed.

"Can you stand?" You ask.

"...I'll need help," he said.

"OK, OK..." You take a deep breath, plotting everything out in your head before taking Price's hand in yours. "There's a convoy over there we can take to the Evac Zone. It'll be faster than going on foot."

You start trying to pull Price up, feeling the man use all the strength he can muster to try and push off the ground and back to his feet. Having one hand to help him didn't make matters easier, however. He made it halfway before falling back against the cold stone with a sharp grunt and some swearing.

Rather than comment, you take Price's hand again, feeling your face turn red with trying to lift him. He gets his knees bent to stand this time, but whenever any weight was applied afterward, an aggressive pain would awkwardly shoot through his body, taking all the momentum from him and causing him to sink back down. And with how heavy he was, you couldn't stop him once he it happened.

Price falls back against the rock again, as frustrated as you are about it all. He can't even bring himself to look you in your eye he's so mad, ashamed of the situation. It's not like him to be the one holding things back. He shouldn't have gotten wounded like this in the first place, he felt.

"...If you go and get help, I can manage here 'til then," Price starts to say. Feeling like a burden, he no longer wished to hold you down. But you wouldn't hear it.

"Fuck that," you protest. "I didn't carry you all the way over here to leave you so you can bleed out."

"...You didn't do it to die here either." He grabs at his side, gritting his teeth along to that burning pain he felt, as the taste of iron tinted the back of his throat now. "Look, this ain't how I plan on goin' out, trust me. Plus we've still got that dinner, yeah?"

Price smiles at you after he says it, and it takes everything in you not to cry. An unspoken reality lingered in the air soon after, because you both knew what it'd mean if you couldn't pick him up from this spot. You'd give anything to not make that so.

You hear more vehicles heading your way from the town. A good handful of them now. Too many. All armed and ready to take out the two 141 soldiers responsible for killing their friends. You knew if you left Price here now, you wouldn't see him again.

"Fuck..." Out of breath and defeated, sorrow starts to settle in and you swallow it down, letting the feelings stir into frustration. "Why'd we wait so long, John?"

Price felt at a loss for words. "I don't know..." he admits. He couldn't quite give you an answer for that; it had always just been... something. He could at least look you in your eyes when he spoke to you now. "But... I'm sorry for that," he says. "Probably should have said somethin' sooner, huh."

You have to bite your cheek to keep from letting his words fill you with so much sorrow and regret. "You and me both."

Fearful that these may actually be your final moments with your Captain, now you wish he hadn't said anything at all, not knowing you'd be losing him so soon after. Leave it to Price to twist the knife in a wound you didn't even know had now grown.

However, Price did not share your begrudging feelings about how things turned out. He'd just been happy finally getting that off his chest. Now, if you could just get to safety then if he did die tonight he'd be satisfied enough with things.

"Better late than never, right?" Price chuckles through the pain. And then he grows quiet. "You know I've always had a pension for dramatic timing."

The vehicles in the distance getting closer now. There was no more time for further talking.

"Forever the attention seeker, Captain," you comment.

"Yours is all I ever needed."

You look back to the town a final time, seeing the convoys getting closer. You take a deep breath, and then you reapproach your Captain, taking his hand. You prepare yourself to try and lift Price back up to his feet again. "Well, you've got it."

"Now hold on-"

"No," you didn't want to hear any more of his excuses to be left behind. If helping him means you both die here, then that was something you were willing to risk. "I'm not leaving you here, so give it up already."

With one final pull, you use all the strength you have left in you to lift your Captain up to his feet. He uses your momentum to push himself up from the boulder, actually managing to stand, though it feels as though his guts are about to spill out of him when he does.

As he's teetering over, you quickly grab hold of his arm, restabilizing him, and trying not to jump too much for joy that you actually got him up this time.

You take his arm and wrap it back around your shoulder, as you guided him over to the convoy.

"We're damn near home free, Captain," you say. "Just hold on a little longer. You'll make it. You're the toughest man I know."

He is the toughest man you knew. A man ready to jump into the fire to save others in need. A man that can shrug off a helicopter crash, take a beating and still keep from succumbing. You knew he'd never go down without a fight, and it's why you felt so safe beside him. It's why you wouldn't leave him.

You open the passenger door and help Price inside.

"...You really want that dinner, don't you?" he teases you.

"Is that even a question?" You check to make sure the vehicle can still run, feeling for any tracking devices that might overcomplicate your escape. Once you see you're good to go, you buckle your seat belt and take the wheel. "Yeah, I want that dinner. Now stop bleeding and sit tight."

"Yes, ma'am."

Next stop, the Evac Zone.

Part Two

[queentheweeb]

Neteyam X Male Omaticaya Reader Pt 2

A/N: A couple of people asked for a part 2 and I finally got around to it. Also, I do not give consent or permission to anyone else or any outside party to post my work.

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You have never been more excited for a ceremony than you have in your entire life. You didn't know what to do! You didn't know who to tell the good news to, but you needed to tell someone and you think you were going to tell one of your friends. But, then again, since this was the ceremony for Neteyam to become Olo'eyktan, it was going to be announced who he was taking as a mate since it was custom. Was he going to announce it or keep it lowkey? It was impossible to do that because he needed and wanted a mate and he was well sought after by both men and women.

"I know what you're thinking already syulang." For two seconds, you forgot you were still in Neteyam's hut. The confession is still very much fresh as the now new relationship. He was still holding you too, and he was looking down at you with the most love, sick eyes, and smile you've ever seen on his face. You still couldn't believe it was you he was giving that look to.

"What I'm thinking Teyam." He swayed the two of you gently side to side his eyes never leaving your face.

"What's going to happen during the ceremony when it's time to announce my future partner, my future Tsahik." You felt yourself grow shy averting your eyes, ears dropping down a bit. A dead giveaway. "See. This relationship might be new but, I have always known you." You turned your eyes back when you felt a pair of lips press against your forehead.

"...I thought you might want to keep me a secret since I am...plain." Now, you know Neteyam can be aggressive, and assertive. It came with being the oldest brother, training to fill in his father, who is Toruk Makto, and current Olo'eyktan, footsteps and overall the best at everything. You didn't think that you would be at the end of his aggression.

"I do not take lightly to my future mate talking bad about himself." You went to move your eyes but, he wasn't having any of it. "Look at me when I'm talking to you." You averted your eyes back and he nodded. " Good I. don't ever want to hear coming out your mouth anything negative about yourself. There is nothing about you that I do not love. I love your eyes and how much expression they hold. I love your witty remarks. I love when we hang out together. I love it when we go hunting for yerik and riding pa'li. When we make stuff, when we ride our Ikran and just explore the forest and accompany each other to watch the stars and listen to the creeks run. You are the one I can see my life with. You are the one I want to grow old with and have children with. My future only holds you and there is nothing or no one that would ever change that." This was the most vulnerable you have ever seen Neteyam be. He laid his heart out to you and he was not one to easily express his emotions. He was always closed off despite being friendly to everyone. You feel like you just got a glimpse into the real Neteyam and you loved it.

"I think I just fell more in love with you and I didn't think that was possible." He gave you a gentle smile, a contrast to how he was previously, pressing your foreheads together. From deep within your chest a purr came out, embarrassing you a little especially when he chuckled at the sound. All well, he was going to be the only one to hear it.

"I want to hear that sound over, and over for as long as we live." The two of you went silent, gently swaying with your foreheads pressed together for peace and tranquility. When you think about it, this was still the Neteyam that you loved and admired since the two of you were children but, you got to see sides to him only reserved for a mate. "You are done with ceremony things. Go and get ready. Dress pretty for me, yeah? I love how you look in flowers." You felt your tail wagging in excitement as the two of you pulled away still looking at each other. 

"See you later?" It was a question that had him grinning and he winked at you.

"Of course, sweetheart. Now go before we both get in trouble for taking too long." He went up to you placing a chaste kiss on your lips and with a bounce in your step you left his Marui, making your way over to yours unaware that his family took notice of you leaving and were smiling, happy for the two of you.

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

You were beyond nervous. You did exactly what your mate said and you got ready in your home. It was no secret that you enjoyed looking at the plant life Eywa takes care but Neteyam was the only one to know how much you actually enjoyed wearing flowers. You have never put much effort into how you look but since he asked you, you were not one to disappoint, especially him. You were going to go all out. You had feather adornments decorated throughout your hair which you had mostly out with a couple of braids. You had feather earrings as well. Looking down your clothing was traditionally feminine but, you loved it. You had a chest-piece made up of blue, pink, red, and purple flowers. It was tied around your neck and the rest of the chest piece had twine going down and around your arms, hands, and fingers. Your loincloth on the left side was adorned with feathers matching your earrings and twine wrapping around your left leg down to your ankle. You felt so pretty and prayed that Neteyam would love what he saw.

"Okay, Y/N you got this." You can hear your people making noise, joyous noise and you love it. With one final breath, you left your Marui and with as much confidence as you can muster held your head high and made your way to your people. What you didn't expect was to awe your friends and for them to be all over you. 

"Oh my Eywa Y/N! You look so pretty!" Hands hovered over your face.

"I love how you look with flowers!" The flowers were gently touched.

"Come dance and sing with us!"

Safe to say you were swept up and ended up enjoying yourself not realizing how much time actually went by and you only had half of the kava juice since it was very potent and you wanted to become one with Neteyam tonight. You didn't doubt he wouldn't announce you as his mate but, a tiny little insecure part of you thought that he wouldn't. Thought that you weren't suitable to be Toruk Makto's son, the new Olo'eyktan mate, his future Tsahik since Neytiri would be teaching you having become Tsahik herself once Mo'at had passed.

"Come! It's time!" You were dragged feeling your heart beating hard enough to hear in your ears. You were so fucking nervous that you picked up human cuss words from hanging with Neteyam and the Sully's. You were somewhere near the front having a perfect view of Neteyam with his parents and siblings near at the bottom. You wanted to be closer but, you'll suffice right here. Your eyes never left his frame as his father gave the speech, and did the whole tradition and whatever else needed to be done. They spoke for a bit and you felt like you were going to vomit with how nervous you were. Was he going to do it? Did his father approve? His mother?

"Our new Olo'eyktan has chosen his future mate! Our future Tsahik!" Here it goes, now or never. You were going to find out what he said as your heart filled with hope. The crowd went silent as Neteyam searched with his eyes and when they locked on you, your smile mirrored his. 

"Come Ma Y/N" Your friends whooped and cheered as they made way for you to get to him and your tail wagged furiously finally reaching him where he wasted no time kissing you and wrapping an arm around your waist keeping you right next to him. "I have chosen!" You wanted to hide but, Neteyam made sure you didn't. He wanted everyone to know you were his and his alone. Once the crowd died down and you did all the formalities, the two of you were allowed to escape and he was eager. 

"Where are we going ma Teyam?" It felt good, it felt right to call him yours. He turned to you with a blinding smile pulling you in by the hips for a smoldering kiss trying to convey all his emotions.

"To claim you in front of Eywa. We will not be missed." You felt your smile splitting your face, as the two of you giggled. You were looking forward to starting this new chapter of your life with your Neteyam.

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This is it! A part 2 and I will not write a part 3. Thank you guys for enjoying!

[aziraphales-library]

Greetings! First off, thank you for your work, you are all absolutely amazing and I admire you so much!

After season 2, I was wondering whether you happen to know fics where Crowley helps out with work in the bookshop; dealing with customers and stuff?

Thanks, I hope you have a lovely day!

Hello! I can't find loads, but here are some post-series two fics in which Crowley at least remains at the bookshop...

Love Of My Life, You've Hurt Me by azi_xiii (G)

Crowley returns to the bookshop after the angel's departure to heaven.

Our Future Was Never Ours by dipshitfromhell (NR)

Things were over between them. Aziraphale chose Heaven and Crowley was left with nothing. They both knew what that meant and what it entailed but despite that, Crowley still clung onto a hope that he would come back. He moved into the bookshop with Muriel and took care of it for twenty years. He closed down the shop permanently and shut himself off to the world. He couldn’t open himself up to anyone after what happened. After waiting for so long though, many unexpected things happened. A friendship with Muriel and the person he mourned for finally came back but he didn’t seem to remember him at all.

Split The Heavens by vampmarz (G)

"We're closed"  The Demon said flatly, pushing his glasses up so they would stay propped up on his forehead(that corner of the bookshop was way too dark to wear sunglasses, and read something)  "I thought Muriel was running the Bookshop?" the customer said, their oh so familiar voice rang in Crowley's ears. His skin crawled, as he looked over his shoulder. "Aziraphale." he monotoned. or Something wet and warm ran down the demon's cheek, it burned like holy water, but worse. it didn't kill him, but the burn wouldn't go away. He didn't know demon's could cry. 

5 Times Muriel Copied Crowley, and 1 Time Muriel Copied Aziraphale by live_write_edit_sleep (T)

Muriel is learning a lot about Earth, especially from their role model, Crowley, who keeps trying to stop them from copying him. They don’t know why, though. They like Crowley.

The Angel’s Ethernal Escape by dipshitfromhell (NR)

Twenty years have passed and they were still separated. Crowley tended to the angel’s old bookshop and Aziraphale’s still the Arch Angel of Heaven. Both of them struggled in their daily lives and were hanging on by a thread. They no longer were connected by the special red thread known as love. Crowley took care of the bookshop with Muriel paying the dues and keeping it clean but never did anything more. If he wasn’t doing those things, he was either sleeping or drinking away to escape his pain. He hung on for so long in the hopes that one day his Angel would come back to him. Aziraphale lead as the Arch Angel carrying out his duties but it was all incredibly draining. No one cared about him or actually listened to him. Even at a high position, he couldn’t stop the second coming or gods plans. Today was the day that they left each other so he had plans to go back to Earth and finally end things with Crowley. He planned to disappear entirely from Heaven and Earth and sleep until those hundred years were up. He wouldn’t bother anyone ever again. He showed up at the bookshop one last time but things didn’t go how he expected.

tales from a bookshop by Rizandace (T)

Post-season-two. Crowley's moping, Aziraphale wants to fix things, and turns out, there's enough blame to go around. ----- “You’re being ridiculous.” Crowley very nearly falls over. Like, actually. He very nearly loses balance for no reason at all and tumbles to the sidewalk next to his car. He’s been playing Aziraphale’s voice in his head for weeks, he’s been trying very hard to drown out the sound of it, in fact, and now suddenly, abruptly— “What are you doing here,” is all he can think to say. He whirls around, and there he is. on Crowley’s right, standing there like he’d never left. Where he belongs, Crowley’s mind helpfully supplies. He wishes he could punch himself in the brain, knock the thoughts right on out of there.

- Mod D

[multiplefandomwritings]

blue

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

warnings: hurting, brief mention of depression, toxicity, no happy ending  

summary: blue is the color of waves, water and the ocean, and Max and you are both drowning.

notes: feel free to leave comments and/or feedback. likes and reblogs are always appreciated! also, feel free to send in requests!

disclaimer: English is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes 😊

word count: 5.6k

you are an ocean

a wild and wide ocean

and here i am

falling in

drowning in the depths

of who you really are

2023, late summer

You have not seen him in person for almost a year. You sit on a bench by the beach, where you have met in the best and worst times of your lives. The sand under is feet is softly crunching as he walks over to you. You know it is him by the way he walks. It is strange how the brain remembers, you think before he comes to a halt next to you. “Hey”, he says softly and sits down next to you. A couple of years ago he would have pulled you in a hug, a couple of months ago he would have pulled you in for a kiss. Today, he does neither. Above you, the sky is greyish blue, before you the ocean is dark blue. The sky is grey today - It is a stormy but beautiful day. Waves are crashing onto the shore; seagulls are squawking in the distance and neither of you says anything.

“It might rain later today”, you say, simply because you don’t know what else to say. He just nods. “How are you?”, you try again a few minutes later. “I am okay.” You shoot him a look and he lets out a dry chuckle. “No, really. I think I am truly okay this time. I am working on myself, who knows, in a few months I might even be more than okay.” You smile, and it is genuine. “I would love that for you”, you tell him, and you mean it. It hasn’t felt like this with him since quite some time, maybe, if you think about it, it never felt like that with him.

“How are you?” You sigh. “I think this is the first time I have felt like this in a long time.” “Like what?”, he asks you. “I cannot get over you, and to be honest, I don’t think I ever will. I don’t know if I want to at all. But, in the last months, for the first time since I have met you, I stopped missing your presence in my life.”

He swallows hard. “That is a good thing, I guess.” “For you at least”, he thinks to himself. “I love that for you”, he says, and he hopes he doesn’t sound as bitter as he feels. You just smile, so he thinks maybe you haven’t noticed. You sit there in silence; it is neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. It just exists, its everchanging, and all the same to him. His mind drifts to different times.

2015, summer

You are barely out of high school. It is the first summer after your graduation, you feel wild and free and happy. He is only barely older than you, not more than a year. You had met him at your graduation party, where he celebrated his younger sister. However, he didn’t pay much attention to her that day, rather talked to you the entire night. For him, it was love at the first sight, for you as well. He had asked for your number, and then for a date, and here you are.

Today, a slight wind is blowing, ruffling through your hair. It is summer, but the air is chilly and the sky not as blue as it is supposed be during these months. He cannot stop watching as you walk through the sand, your shoes in your hands and your hair all over the place. You turn around and look at him. He should feel caught, but he doesn’t. You watch him and under your gaze he shivers a bit. Then, you smile and his heart fills.

The sound of crashing waves fills the air, and for a moment you close your eyes. When you open them and look at him, you cannot help but notice the glimmer. His blue eyes are littered with little darker droplets, and they look like the waves in front of you. The two of you share a connection that feels magical, as if you've known each other for much longer than just a few weeks.

You walk over to a bench and sit down to watch the ocean. He feels like he is invincible, his life is better than good. He is an amazing race driver, the people call him a prodigy, and here he is, with a beautiful girl in his arms. His blue eyes stare at you while you look at the ocean, the waves slowly crashing onto the shore. He thinks he loves you. He doesn’t think he has ever felt this sure about something before.

2016, spring

Life is complicated, he is jet setting around the world, and you are studying at a university overseas. Your love is simple, though. Both of you are committed to make it work, and it does, somehow. Both of you are very young as well and your relationship is still new as well. But you want to see where it goes with the two of you. You talk almost every day, he sends you postcards from all around the world – you keep all of them in a box, they are your most prized possessions. You watch his races whenever you can, even though it means waking up in the middle of the night. He flies out to you whenever he can, you rarely visit him enough. He wants to protect you from the media, at least for now.

2016, early fall

“I cannot do this anymore!” you tell him. It is half a year later, and the honeymoon phase seems to be over. You never see him anymore, and when you see him, it doesn’t feel the same anymore. He is different now, more famous and people are drawn to him like a magnet. And he doesn’t tell them to stay away, even when he is with you. They draw him in just like he used to draw you in. He goes on so many parties, he changes, he is not the person you used to know.

The two of you fight more, and because you are still so very young, you don’t know how to communicate in your anger. You fight and you hurt each other, then you make up. It is draining, and you find yourself at the same point every other week. So, you decide to break up with him when you visit him the next time. And you do, and he doesn’t really say anything, he just listens and then lets you go. Your eyes beg him to keep you from going, to stop you from leaving, but he does neither and so you are leaving.

In between Christmas 2016 and the first days of 2017

The two of you are caught in a dangerous circle. Christmas is the time to reconcile and to forgive, so you text him “Merry Christmas” and it seems like he has waited for that opportunity. He asks how you are, and if you would be home for the vacation. You tell him that you are feeling okay, and that you are home. You tell him that you don’t think that meeting is a good idea. He does agree, in the end.

However, the city both of your families live in isn’t that big after all, so running into each other is almost inevitable. It is only half bad when both of you are Christmas shopping with your mothers. You exchange a few courtesies, some longing glances, and unsure smiles, and then you are off into different directions.

It is dangerous however, when the two of you meet on one of the dance floors of the clubs. There, alcohol is involved and your silent longing for each other crashes over you like waves whenever the two of you are drinking. Before you count to three, the two of you are making out in the bathroom of some club, consumed by love, hope, and desire. It happens more than once, and you feel terrible after every time. Yet you feel hopeful that you might be able to make it work, somehow.

By the end of the holidays, you need to go back abroad, and he needs to go back to racing, and you haven’t talked about what happened over the holidays. It might be better this way, but it kills a part of you. You know that he isn’t good for you, you know that this will end in a heartbreak, but you cannot stop thinking about him. He still texts every once in a while and you call him when you are drunk. He tells you that he loves you and you slur the same on the phone, but neither of you make the decision to get back together.

2017, spring

“I hope someday I will make it out of here”, you say and look at the ocean, “I hope one day I can forget everything I think I know about love, even if that means forgetting us, forgetting you.” The two of you are just about to begin the second decade of your life, you feel like you are on top of the world, like you can achieve everything. At the same time, a simple heartbreak feels like the end of the world. Or maybe it wasn’t a simple heartbreak, maybe this thing with Max was more.

It’s a warm spring day, you wear a light blue dress that gently moves with the wind. You look like an ethereal being, Max thinks, when you stand a few meters away from him, your lower calves are being caressed by the water. He wishes that was him touching you like that.  

You make a promise that day you would stay away each other for good. No more late-night calls when you were drunk, no more texting, even if it just to ask how the other person is doing. You want to treat each other like one would treat an addiction – by going into cold withdrawal. Both of you know that it wasn’t going to be easy, but none of you would have thought that it was going to be this hard.

2018, early in the year

A year later you agreed that you belonged together. It was quiet confession whispered into the darkness of a hotel room somewhere on this planet, and it felt like the two of you were the only people in the whole wide world. You had gone back to one another, relapsing despite both knowing that it would possibly end in disaster. But right now, it doesn’t feel like a disaster, it feels like the beginning of something beautiful. Together you can conquer the world, together you will manage to cross every ocean.

Your skin shines almost blue under the fluorescent light of the big city, the sheets white and clean and innocent. You are asleep and he holds you close to his chest, and it feels like this will last forever. At least he hopes so, he really does. The cityscape outside the window twinkles with bright lights, casting a vibrant glow into the room as you sleep peacefully in his arms. He holds you gently, feeling the rise and fall of your breath against his chest. In this moment, time stands still, and he allows himself to bask in the sheer bliss of your presence.

As the morning sun begins to filter through the curtains, painting the room in a warm, golden hue, he watches you stir awake. Your eyes flutter open, and a soft smile graces your lips as you meet his gaze. His eyes seem bluer than ever before under the soft light of this cold morning. Amidst the chaos of tangled sheets and limbs, he whispers to you, reaffirming his commitment to you. He kisses you with all he has in the hopes that this is enough to keep you with him, for now at least.

2018, winter

You smile at him, tears shimmering in your eyes. They don’t fall yet; they just get caught in your eyelashes. You are once again trapped in the same cycle of fighting and making up once that has brought you to your knees before. On top of that, you are struggling with yourself and him being away all the time. Your cold fingers are wrapped around the to go cup of some coffee place. You take a deep, shaking breath.

“Some days I just hate myself so much, that it almost paralyses me”, you say, a pained expression written across your face. He pulls you against his chest, where you take another shaking breath before you start to cry quietly. “Don’t hate yourself”, he tells you, “You are better than everyone else.”

Your quiet cries turn into sobs at his words. When you free yourself out of his grasp, you look at him and he is scared by how empty your eyes are. “I feel so, so terribly that I have even fooled you to think more of me than I am truly.” He shakes his head. “Stop!”, he tries to tell you, but it is like he is talking to a wall. “I cannot lose you”, he begs and now you shake your head. “I am sorry, but I am no good for you like this. I am in pain, and I need to heal. I need to heal for myself and not by relying on you.”

He gets a bit angry now, you can feel it. “But that is what a relationship is for, to rely on each other and help each other as much as possible!” You scoff. “It should be, but how is that supposed to work, Max? You are never here!” “You know that is not a fair argument, I have no other choice! But you on the other hand, you could come with me all the time, if you weren’t so –“, he stops himself. You take a step back to get a bit of distance between you and him. “If I wasn’t so what, Max? Stubborn? Selfish?” He rolls his eyes. “Now you are just putting words into my mouth! I don’t know what I was going to say!”

You scoff again. “Do you think I am stupid?” “No, but I think that you are selfish because you don’t want to come with me even though you have the time! I think that you are picking a fight over nothing right now because you don’t like the way your life is right now! And I think that you are overreacting, and that you are not really feeling that terrible!” He is really angry now, his eyes cold and his cheeks red. Your expression is almost blank. “Are you done?” He nods. “Good, because we are done!” You turn around and leave.

2019, spring

You haven’t heard from him for a few months. From his Instagram you can tell that he is out partying a lot. It can mean that he is over you, or that he is drinking his sorrows away. You find that it doesn’t bother you as much as it used to. You have made new friends, and you found a job that makes you happy. You would claim to be over him, but you that would be a lie. You keep busy and occupy and don’t think about him as much anymore, what makes it all a bit easier.

Today, you arrive at home later than usual after an evening at the bar with your new colleagues. There is one of them you particularly like, he is really kind and even walked you home. You almost asked him to come up with him, but it is too early for that, you tell yourself. Closing the door to your apartment behind you, you take off your shoes when someone rings the doorbell.

You open, almost entirely sure it will be your colleague. When you look up, your gaze meets his blue eyes, and you almost close the door in his face. Only almost. He looks terrible, tired, and exhausted. “What do you want?” “Please,” he murmurs. “Please, let me love you.” His eyes search yours for any kind of answer, lips quivering. You don’t know what to say. He stands in front of your door and in all those years you have never seen him looking so lost.

“My life only makes sense when I am with you. When you are not there, I don’t know what to do with myself.” You let him and that night both while his wounds heal with every touch, every kiss you share, your wounds rip open with every caress and yet it feels exactly right.

2019, early summer

After that night you don’t talk to each other for a few months. One day, you run into each other at the market when you are out with your colleague, who is your boyfriend now. Max feels nauseous when he sees how happy you are with another man by your side. He wants to leave, but then you see him and like you want to rub your happiness into his face, you walk over to him. He plasters a fake smile onto his face and greets you.

“Max, meet John, my boyfriend!” John shakes his hand, seemingly excited. “Babe, you never told me that you knew the infamous Max Verstappen!” Max smiles again, it is crooked and doesn’t reach his eyes. “We used to date, actually!” You giggle, it is a bit shrill and so not like you, Max thinks. “That was a long time ago! Anyway, it was nice to see you again, Max!”

2019, fall

Neither of you know why, but the two of you get into contact again after that run-in. You tell each other about your lives and your struggles and confine in each other once again. You meet up for dinner occasionally, and you never tell John that you are meeting Max. You tell yourself it is because you don’t want to start an argument, but the truth is that you know that this is more than a simple dinner between friends.

Today is one of these days. John thinks you are out with your girlfriends, but you are sitting in the booth of some fancy restaurant. Until now, everything had gone smoothly. But now, you give Max a disappointed look. “What do you have against him?”, you sigh. Max had just made fun of John. He is silent for a minute, seemingly finding the right words. “He has everything I will never have”. You don’t have an answer for that, so you wipe your mouth with the blue napkin. Strangely enough, it has the same color as the dress you are wearing. Afterwards you fold it on your plate, neatly. “I think I have to go.”

“Yeah, of course”, he scoffs, “You always do that.” “Do what?” “You keep me close; you make me crawl back to you when you are alone. And then, when you have me at that spot, you find someone else to give your love to. And here I am once again, spilling my feelings to you, and you leave.” Now it’s your time to scoff. “This is the problem; you give me tiny pieces like this and call it spilling your feelings.” He stays silent. “You are just angry that I moved on before you did.” You get up and carelessly throw a few bills on the table. Then, you leave without another word.

He thinks that he has every right to be angry, because just a few months ago you had told that you had to find yourself before you anything else. But maybe you were just too kind to tell him that you had to find yourself without him. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself, when he knows that this is all that matters. What he doesn’t know is that you never truly moved on. You were with John because he distracted you from Max, and he made you feel like you were worthy of love. But all you wanted was for Max and you to be together again.

2019, summer

It is a warm summer night where he lives. The days are so long now that the sky doesn’t turn dark at night, rather it is colored in a deep shade of blue. The phone rings and disturbs the comfortable silence of his balcony. He puts his glass of wine down, and when he sees your name on the screen, his finger lingers above the “decline” button for a while. Then, he decides to pick up.

“Yes?” “I am sorry”, you slur, “I didn’t know who else to call.” He sighs. “You have a boyfriend, no?” He can hear that you take a shaky breath, and he knows that he has said the wrong thing. “He left me here by myself. I am alone and scared and I am sorry I called you, but I really didn’t know who else to call”, you say, and he can hear that you must be crying. “Where are you?”, he asks and gathers his things, “I will come and get you.” “Thank you”, you tell him, “Please drive safely.” He wants to hang up, but you say another sentence that makes him stop in his tracks for a second. “And Max? I might have a boyfriend, but he isn’t you. And he will never be you.”

When he finds you, you sit on a bench, bottle of water in your hand. The fresh air and the liquid have sobered you up. You look miserable, but he still thinks that you are beautiful in a strange sense. Your hair is pulled up into a messy bun and your sparkly blue dress clings to you. You carry your shoes in your hand when you get into the car. “Thank you”, you say, voice quiet. “Do you want me to take you to your place, or”, he takes a deep breath, “do you want to come to mine?” You don’t hesitate when you answer him, and it makes him regret the offer less. “Yours, if you really don’t mind.”

He does not mind, obviously. He could never mind you, really. You might broke his heart before, you might were going to do again, but he doesn’t care. He would do it all again for you, the heartbreak, the pain, if it meant another chance, another chapter written together with you. “About what I said before I hung up – “, you start, and he interrupts you. “No need to explain”, he says, “No hard feelings-“ “I mean it”, you say and his heart jumps in his chest. “You mean the world to me, Max. You always have and I think you always will.”

When you arrive at his place, you barely make it out of the car before his lips are on yours and you are once again drowning. He makes love to you that night for a long time, and afterwards you fall asleep in his arms. He tells you that he loves you, and you tell him that you love him. For one night, everything is okay and good. You both indulge in the notion of what is, what could have been, what might be. The next morning, you leave before he wakes up.

2019, fall

A few weeks later, he shows up at your door in the middle of the night. “I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I came here”, he says, and you let him into your apartment and into your arms without thinking twice. “I feel like I am drowning”, he tells you and you cannot help it, but your heart breaks a bit. “Everyone tells me I should be so happy, I am achieving what so few have achieved before me, but I couldn’t care less. All I want is to be worthy of your love, all I want is for you to love me. I want to be with you, I want to be what you deserve.” “Oh Max”, you say and rake your fingers through his hair. His head is resting in your lap, he holds onto you like you are his lifeline. “You are more than I will ever deserve.”

“And Max?”, you take a shaking breath, “You do not need to long for my love, you already have it all.” He sits up now, looking at you with his blue eyes. Currently, there is a storm of emotions present in them, and you want to look away, but his gaze holds you hostage. He gently leans forward and places a kiss to your slightly parted lips. Your body reacts on instinct, kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

2020, summer

You are happy, truly. Max and you are better together than you have ever been before. All is well and all is good. Being with him doesn’t hurt like it used to, it heals you. Both of you have become better people, better partners, you are both trying hard, and it works. Sometimes, people deserve a few more chances than just two, you think as you watch Max walking towards the water.

You are spending a calm weekend in a house by the beach. The ocean is blue, the sky is even bluer, not a single cloud is visible. You think of all the good memories you have made with him, and it seems like you never had bad phases. You know that is far from the truth, but right now it feels like all the pain and hurt was worth it, because it all worked out in the end.

Max disrupts your trail of thought when he sits down next to you. “Hello, my love”, he says, and you smile up to him. You sit up to take a better look at him, bathing in his present. “I found something down there by the water, wanna see?” You nod, and he pulls out a little box. You are confused for a moment, until he opens it, and a beautiful ring is inside. “Oh my god, Max!”, you breathe out. “When I saw you for the first time, it was like I was walking into the ocean. The water was only gently caressing up my calves, but I wanted to dive in further and further. That night you were wearing a blue dress and you drew me in like the tidal waves. Every day I spent with you, I am falling in love more and more. You are beautiful and strong and powerful like the ocean, and I want to spend my forever with you. Do you want to marry me?”

2021, summer

It has been almost a year since he had asked you to marry you. For the remainder of 2020 everything had been better than well, but around the New Year, the two of you seemed to have taken the wrong path once again. You fell back into old habits, you fought more. Now, it is summer once again and this time, he decides that he cannot do it anymore. He tells you that you have become too much for him, that you are drowning him and that he cannot take it anymore. You don’t argue, you are happy that it is over. You leave him and move away, somewhere closer to the ocean.

2021, winter

It is a cold day. He sits by the usual spot on the beach by the water, two cups of hot coffee in his hands. You walk up behind him, sitting down next to him. “I am sorry I am late”, you say and acknowledges your apology with a nod. He holds a cup in your direction, you reach for it with blue gloves covering your hands.

“You look tired, exhausted”, he notices, and you chuckle. “Because I am!”, you answer, and he cocks an eyebrow. “Because the last months were rough. Because getting over you was the hardest thing I ever had to do.” “It doesn’t have to be like that”, he says – it slips before he can stop himself. He knows saying that isn’t really fair, after all he had been the one to end it this time. You shake your head, and he can tell that you are annoyed.

“Coming here was a mistake”, you say, “We need to stay apart, we cannot keep coming back to each other!” He wants to protest, but he knows that you are right. “I am sorry I asked you to meet.” You nod, grab your back and get ready to leave. Before you make your way home, you pull out a little box out of your pocket. “I still need to give this back to you”, you say and hand him the ring and then you leave.

When you are gone, he feels empty and angry. He regrets breaking up with you every day, but he is too proud to admit that to you or anyone else. He loves you so much that some days it feels like it is killing him. But he cannot do anything about it. He is too proud and too stubborn to crawl back to you, and his rational mind knows that it would ultimately end in another heartbreak.

2023, late summer

Now, a couple of years later he almost says out loud that you should’ve really stayed away then. It would have spared both of you a lot of heartbreak. But it would have also robbed you of many great moments together, moments were he felt like life was perfect and that he would never find a love like this again. But then, he thinks that he will never find a love like this again regardless. You are all he ever wanted, and all he ever needed. He cannot explain while he simply wasn’t able to keep you with him, while the two of you kept on slipping away, only to find your way back to each other after some time.

He thinks that maybe the two of you are like the ocean and the beach and the tidal waves. You are pulled towards each other by a strong force, but you also seem to never be able to stay with each other. He catches himself thinking that he wants to turn back time, but to what moment exactly?

The danger that he would find myself in one of the bad moments is way too likely. He thinks that instead it is for the best that he just accepts that this is and should be a final goodbye. That doesn’t mean that he won´t think about you every single day for the rest of his life, he doesn’t mean that he will ever get over you, but it means that he is okay with losing you now. It is for the best for him, and for you. And all he ever wanted and all he ever will want, is the best for you, even though that might not always have been obvious.

2022, early summer

You decide to give each other one last chance and he is determined to make sure that neither of you will regret it this time. You are hopeful, you are certain that the two of you could make it work, especially after your last chance even included engagement. He gives you back the ring in the very first week after you decide to get back together, so you are once again engaged. He carries you on his hands, and you try everything to give your all for each other. He wants to make it work; he wants all the best for you. He treats you like a queen; he buys you present and supports you the best he can. He does everything in his power to make you happy and be the partner you deserve.

The end of 2022

It does work for a good while. But somehow, neither of you can abstain of some old habits. You know each other too well, and that makes hurting each other a lot easier. Too easy if you think about it. You know it shouldn’t be this easy to hurt each other, but maybe you finally need to see the truth for what it is: the two of you might be made for each other, but maybe that is why it didn’t work. Amidst the perfection, there is boredom and the longing for more, which neither of you can explain. But it makes you challenge the relationship and each other.

2023, late summer

“Promise me, that we will wait for each other”, you murmur in the crook of his neck when you are saying goodbye to each other. “I promise”, he says and gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead. You free yourself from the hug, but he feels like you have just freed yourself from him, from them. He knows this is goodbye, no matter how much he doesn’t want this to happen. It is better for him, he tells himself, but it doesn’t work. It is better for you; he tells himself and somehow that works. He knows he must let you go for good, so that you have the chance to find a life, a purpose, besides this.

You walk away through the sand and before you are gone forever, he has to say a few more words. “Wait for me, will you?” You turn around to look at him one last time. You smile, but he can see that you hold back a few tears. “As promised”, you say and nod. Then you turn away and leave. He is left behind, looking at the ocean. Violent waves are crashing onto the shore and that doesn’t reflect his feelings. He is sad, but he is at peace as well. He stays five minutes longer and then he leaves as well.

[ytace]

Only One Shot In Rebellion

[Song Recommended to Listen while Reading]

Pairings: Student Reader X Professor Lupin X Professor Snape [All Platonic]

Warning: Abit of Swearing And Chaos

Summary: Takes place when Umbridge was assigned as Headmistress of Hogwarts. And having enough of Umbridge’s rules, you decided to initiate what you had in mind, which led to a rebellion. [Characters don't go by timeline]

[Similar to the scene when the twins made a firework display, But i thought the scene from Matilda was a fun idea as well so I merged them together]

๋࣭  ࣪ ˖❇ ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖ ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖❇ ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖ ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖❇ ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖ ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖❇ ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖ ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖❇ ๋࣭  ࣪

The Great Hall of Hogwarts used to be a place full of lively chatter, bustling with students' excitement and eccentric energy. But under the harsh reign of Dolores Umbridge, everything has started changing.

Slowly, the once lively hall filled with chatter was replaced with the sound of quills scribbling against the rough papers in notebooks, along with the grumbling of the students with their backs hunched forward. All they ever did these days was reading, straining to memorise the entire textbook like their life depended on it.

Umbridge herself, her pink cardigan always standing out, a smirk of cruel satisfaction distorting her features as she walked pass the Great Hall.

Students had been ordered to remain in the hall to study late into the night. Tables were laden with textbooks, and the air was oddly thick. The enchantments on the ceiling, usually a source of comfort, now seemed oppressive, reflecting the dim, dreary mood.

At the staff table, two professors were on duty today. Remus Lupin and Severus Snape.

Despite not being on good terms with each other, they both exchanged concerned glances as they looked across the Great Hall. Lupin's face was filled with sympathy for the students. Being the warm and caring professor that he is, he couldn't help but worry about the students who all looked so tired. Exhausted, to say the least.

Snape, on the other hand, radiated irritation, sometimes seen pinching the bridge of his nose. His lips were pressed into a tight line as he occasionally cast a dark glance towards the students who were seen fooling around instead of studying.

Meanwhile you, a notorious troublemaker at Hogwarts, was already concocting your plan. Known for your audacious stunts, you thrived on chaos, and tonight, you had a grand spectacle in mind.

.~.

As the clock struck eleven, you set your plan in action. You've been planning this for quite a while, ever since Umbridge set the rule of studying overtime after school.

"I'm so going to get into trouble for this.." you whispered to your friend who sat beside you in the hall.

"You're doing it?!- You're fucking crazy.. you know after this you're going to get into deep shit right?.." Your friend whispered back harshly.

"No shit, sherlock. If anyone's going to pull this, it's going to be me," you said.

Just as you were about to stand up, your friend grabbed your arm and tried to sat you back down. "I swear, don't you da-"

Too late.

You were already standing on the dining hall's tables.

You cleared your throat loudly, causing the uneasy buzz of voices in the hall to almost immediately fall silent. The tension was palpable, everyone's eyes could be seen glancing towards your direction. With a dramatic flourish, you Announced,

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Professors and Elves~"

"And just what are you doing? [Y/N]..?" Snape Shot up from his seat, Irritatedly.

"Don't you think it's Abit Unfair..? You know the whole gist with the studying? Don't you guys feel like you're under oppression?" You Asked as you continued walking down the Dining Table , Almost like you're opening up a student forum for them to express their thoughts.

"[Y/N]-" As Snape was about to apprehend what you were about to do, he was arruptly stopped by Lupin. In fact, Lupin almost looked a bit eager to see what you were about to pull.

“Get out of the way, Lupin. I intend to apprehend that student before they cause any more trouble.” Snape snapped at Lupin.

“Come on, Severus. Where’s the harm in letting them show their hand? It might be quite entertaining.." Lupin said with a slight grin on his face.

"Entertaining?!.. You Find This Entertaining?.." Snape retorted back, clearly annoyed at Lupin's Nonchalant Attitude.

"Just a bit, Besides a student with such... creativity. I’m curious to see what they’ll do next.” Lupin replied.

As you walked down the Dining Table, you gestured for students to voice out their own opinions that would soon come shedding into light.

"Anyone? Come On Don't be Shy. I'll start first. I dislike the fact that Umbridge makes us study over time " you announced loudly, tone filled with defiance.

"I dislike the fact that I would have to worry about Umbridge wrath after knowing what my friend just pulled." Your friend Chimed in playfully, Winking at you. Clearly, your friend was a do or die person, The moment they knew they couldn't stop you, they'd mind as well Join in.

After hearing your friend's comment about Umbridge, you heard another Remark across the hall.

"Oh I dislike Her disgusting pink outfit" A well known Troublemaker from gryfindor yelled. Causing a Ripple of laughter to be heard amongst the Hall.

The Troublemaker's friend group then each came backing up their friend eagerly joining the thought of causing mischief.

"I dislike Her Torture Methods!"

"Oh don't forget Her "Hem Hem" "

"Awh Hell, Nah. I think her detentions are even worse"

"That's it That's it.. Keep Em Coming!" You encouraged, as slowly one by one the students in the hall yelled out what they find distasteful about Umbridge. Causing the start of a domino effect.

Lupin Slightly Amused at your Rebellious nature had a small smirk on his face. He was slightly feeling nostalgic, as it simply reminded him of the times he spent with the marauders.

In a flash, you pulled out your wand and casted a spell that began the start of your rebellion plan.

The Spell Hits random school supplies which turned them all into weapons of fun. Inkpots became fountains of colorful liquid, Before a wave of Bubbles was produced into the air.

Quills danced through the air writing cheeky messages on the walls, and books flapped around like birds.

The notes that were on the table were all sent flying into the air like confetti.

Creating what we would call the deffinition of Chaos. The hall, once a place of dreary study, was now a playground of magical pandemonium.

Cheers erupted from your fellow students as they joined in the rebellion, waving their wands and creating their own mini-disruptions. Each Yelling out their own protest, without the thoughts of consequences getting in their way.

As Umbridge was about to enter the Great Hall her eyes immediately shot up in anger.

"What is the meaning of this?!" she shrieked, her voice cutting through the chaos like a knife.

Lupin and Snape, who had been watching in dismay, were caught off guard by the sudden outburst. Lupin’s expression softened with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. He saw the potential for the students to vent their frustrations, though he worried about the consequences. Snape, meanwhile, looked like he was wrestling with a mix of irritation and grudging respect for your audacity.

The first student that Umbridge laid eyes was You. Afterall, who else would have started something like that..

As Umbridge advanced towards you, her wand drawn and was about to perform a spell on you.

"Uh oh. Up!" You said loudly as you held out one of your hands, Your broom flew through from where you last left it, into the corridors of hogwarts quickly and swiftly maneuvering from the chaos of the Great Hall and into your hands.

You rode the broom as it darted side to side dodging Umbridge’s spells, Almost like the broom had it's own conscience.

“You’re making quite a scene,” Lupin called out as he made his way through the chaos, his voice barely audible over the cacophony.

“Can’t resist a good show!”

you shouted back, ducking beneath a flying book and sending another spell into the air, causing it to explode in a burst of sparkling light.

"Don't encourage them. Lupin.." Snape said coldly, although he doesn't condone what you had just done. There was a hint of Admiration in his eyes, despite the fact that he was reluctant to show it.

" [Y/N], Get Back down here this instant!"

Umbridge yelled, her voice palpable in pure anger.

But whatever She said went in the ear, and out through the other..

Since you were already speeding towards the entrance. As you flew past the teachers, you gave them a cheeky salute. You could still hear the distant echoes of laughter and cheering, as you exited the Great Hall. Leaving the Two Professors And one Angry Headmistress to clean up the messy scene of an uproarious celebration.

Lupin, though clearly concerned, couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Well, What a day ain't it?..” he said to Snape, his eyes twinkling with a trace of mischief.

Snape’s lip curled in a sardonic smile as he surveyed the mess. “Yes, and now we have a very real problem on our hands.. Still, I suppose some enjoyment was had.” He mumbled softly.

Lupin and Snape both turned their attention to the mess left behind. Lupin started helping to restore order, while Snape busied himself with spells to tidy up the floating debris.

Though Umbridge would undoubtedly be furious and the night’s antics would lead to repercussions, for just that moment, the students of Hogwarts had just experienced the taste of freedom....

[macravishedbymactavish]

Abandoned Driveways

Alex Keller x GN!Reader

| Blog HQ | Modern Warfare 2019 / 2022 Masterlist |

| Series Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part |

TW for eventual angst, light swearing and flirting, mostly all fluff

Chapter 03

“How'd supper go?” Your best friend asked a few nights later, insisting you phone them and give all the details of your “date that wasn't really a date because these beautiful idiots are in denial”.

Biting your lip, you smiled to yourself. Reminiscing on how comfortable the night was. No forced conversation, no awkward small talk. It felt as though you had known him your whole life, and he moved back to town.

“Comfortable.” You decided on. “It was good, comfortable.”

“Seriously?” Your friend deadpanned, “all I get from you is it was comfortable.”

While they reamed you for not providing detailed explanations, you let your mind wander. Concerns you buried deep within your subconscious floating to the surface once more.

How answers about his past and employment seemed to be scripted. Rehearsed.

How he dodged any personal questions about his past and family.

“You two are living an entire Disney movie and all I get is fucking it was comfortable!” Your friend continued, pulling you back to the present.

Furrowing your brows, you scoffed lightly. “Not a damn Disney movie. I'm not planning a marriage to him, we get along really well like best friends. Simmer down.”

“That's not what the barista was saying.” They snorted. Your cheeks burning as you glared at the phone.

“Best friends banter too, you know. That's all we are, and all we ever will be.” You pointed down at your phone, like a parent giving their child a stern lecture.

“Famous last words.”

Not that you'd ever admit to your friend, but over the next few months, the lines between best friends and something more began to bend between you and Allen.

The neverending banter and teasing continued; but you found yourself holding his stare a bit longer. Making small motions of physical contact more often. Inhabiting each other's space became a norm in your lives.

You popping over to bring him coffee in the morning, him joining you on the porch late at night when the subdivision was asleep.

An unspoken favour system, a silent running tab for coffee orders, and multiple meals shared in the others' presence. Maybe it was just his personality or the two of you vibing in all the right ways. But he genuinely felt like someone you've known your entire life.

Your best friend from the start, slowly morphing to your boyfriend. Which became official on one cool night.

Sitting on your porch swing, it was one of those late nights, thighs touching as his body warmed yours. Stars shining brightly overhead when he softly asked if he could love you the way his heart yearned for.

You told him he sounded like a cheeseball.

He told you that sounded like a yes.

“So, uh, my name isn’t actually Allen. It’s Alex.” He confessed one of those nights, glancing over at you with a genuine smile. Relief flooding his eyes, finally able to tell you the truth. Finally able to reveal the specks of gold that hid behind the muddy shell he had to protect himself.

You stifled a laugh, causing him to tense as he shifted to face you. The porch swing creaking at the sudden movement, the seat tiling as he held a hand out to you.

“Alex Keller, nice to meet you.” Laughter leaving both of you, smiles wider than they’ve been the entire time you’ve known one another. You took his hand, shaking it dramatically.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Alex. The name fits you way better than Allen. You’re not an Allen.” Leaning over to press a quick peck to his cheek, you ignored the faux offended expression that spread across his face.

“This entire time, the entire time you’ve said you’ve liked me a lot. It was a lie? Because you didn’t like my name?” He laughed, arms wrapping around you as he continued laughing. Body shaking with the unfiltered joy and amusement; stomach aching by the end.

Laying your forehead against his shoulder, you smiled. Mind wandering to thoughts of a possible future; nothing too crazy. No thoughts of marriage or white picket fences with small screams. But how your life would look in a year or two with Alex around.

Coming home to find him in the kitchen serving a meal for the both of you that he made. As you really hoped to get off night shifts sooner than later.

Or going on road trips, falling for the tourist traps you find along the way. Filling your walls with cheesy pictures of the two of you posing together. Would he buy a corny hawaiian shirt for holidays like that? Or would he be on the “edgier” side, Ray Ban sunglasses, and skate shoes.

Ringing in the new year with a loving kiss at midnight, a silent promise for a better year ahead.

“It’s so funny how the world works,” you started softly, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “You moving here of all places, my quaint little neighborhood.”

You almost missed the flash of pain that crossed his eyes, like there was something he was avoiding telling you. Tilting your head slightly, starting a silent conversation where you silently inquired about his reaction. After a few beats of silence he finally spoke up.

“I uh, was moved here due to some conflicts with work. I can’t go into too much detail, considering the circumstances but it would be pretty bad if word got out that I’m here.” He shrugged, explaining the reason behind his false name and identity. Why he found himself sticking to his home and the neighborhood. Never venturing too far, never getting too close.

Until he found you. You were everything he shouldn’t have right now.

General taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

Alex Keller taglist: @deadbranch @glitterypirateduck @gcing-back-to-505

[joenotexotic99]

hey! ive read some of your five smut before and i agree, there is a severe lack of it in the fandom. but yk what there's even a bigger lack of?????????? sub!five. i know he plays this cool and in-control persona when he's around others, but i think it would be wonderful to watch the facade crumble while dominating him. just a thought!! also i would prefer it to be spoiler-free since i'm somewhat new to the fandom!! thanks so much!!! :))

OMG YESSSS I love this

• He has so much pressure on him.

• Like a lot

• From his family, the commission, the fate of the entire universe.

• He just constantly has to put up this tough guy look.

• He hated it so fucking much.

• And Jesus Christ when he met you

• You were perfect. Absolutely perfect

• Kind, sweet and lovable yet would not take a single ounce of bullshit from anyone.

• If someone hurt you or any of the people you loved.

• Let's just say that their days were numbered.

• He found himself taking a liking In you FAST

• So fucking quickly you got him to be wrapped around your finger

• When he was around you he felt as if he could take his tough guy mask off

• But no he had to keep it on right? He is THE five Hargreaves. The arguably most dangerous man in the space time continuum.

• So why did he feel so safe with you?

• He couldn't answer that question till the night you to hooked up

• The way you kissed him

• The way you knew him like the back of your hand even though you have only known him for a short amount of time

• Fucking hell it turned him on so God damn much

• You knew that this is what he needed. To have this. A moment where he could completely let go

• And he just crumbled

• He was absolute putty in your hands

• It was unspoken

• The shift in dynamic

• But the both of you LOVED it

• You laid his head down on the pillow so he wouldn't have to do any work

• You kissed down his neck

• Combed your fingers through his hair has he moaned out from the action

• You removed each and every one of his clothes until he had nothing on

• Kissing every inch of his skin while praising him

• Telling him how good he is for you

• How pretty he is all laid out perfectly for you

• How lovely the sounds he made

• He soaked up every moment of it

• You may even tie his hands up with his tie

• Taking him into your mouth and not stopping until he was a babbling mess of pleases and don't stops

• He would get so close to finishing before you'd stop

• He'd let out a long whine in retaliation

• Not giving a shit about his pride

• You just shush him by sinking down on him.

• You'd tell him not to Cum until you've finished twice

• It was pleasure and pain for poor old five

• But the moment you gave him permission he Cum with a loud cry

• It was the best he has ever felt in all the years he has lived

• You'd keep going letting him ride out his orgasm while overstimulating him

• Let's just say you guys became more than just friends after that.

A/n: I hope that this was everything you wanted. I may do a blurb on this I don't really know. But other than that I do hope you enjoyed

<3

[arminsumi]

Fuck it I love you

Fic / L. Ackerman / C2

"I don't know if I can tie my hands behind my back when it comes to you."

Levi's that shy boy who works at the cafe near campus. He's overwhelmed with newfound affections for you. Although any romantic advances seem hopeless, considering the fact that you're dating the local heart-throb, Erwin.

Cws; you two almost kiss, not entirely proofread yet, fluff, angst, mutual pining, slight love triangle

Notes on Y/n; Fem! + fem!pronouns used

Notes on this au; modern! + college!, Levi and Erwin are rivals

It's just shy of 4 PM when Levi arrives at the fountain, where you two had decided to meet today.

His shoulders are tensely pulling together due to the cold weather. He pulls up the curve of his scarf to cover his nose, which was reddening by now. The thought of your lips warming him crosses his mind, but it's a short-lived daydream because your voice calls his attention.

"Vi." You greet him with a smile. His heart beats more prominently.

"Levi." He corrects, "How are you?"

"Cold." You say, "I think I underdressed a bit. But I really wanted to wear this outfit."

He gives it a look-over, then compliments it, "I- yeah, it's uh, you- you look good. I mean, it's a good outfit."

"Thanks..." You smile.

You two amble around the campus plaza, making up your minds on where to go and what to do. It gets so cold that you say;

"Maybe we can take our indecisiveness back to my dorm. We'll get hypothermia out here."

His heart pangs, but he speaks calmly, "Okay."

While you walk to your dorm, the silence causes Levi to overthink.

Does she think I'm boring?

She's used to someone as well-spoken as Erwin.

Your voice snaps him out of it, "Oh, Vi,"

He looks at you, then you correct yourself cheekily, "Sorry, Le-vi."

"I don't actually mind Vi..." He says.

"Oh good! 'Cause, I mean, it sounds cool. My friend's names are so difficult to make nicknames out of, so I got excited about calling you Vi." You ramble, "But, anyways, Erwin's birthday is this weekend, and I thought you might want to come! I mean, you two have known each other for a long time, right?"

Levi's grimacing at this, but he doesn't hint towards his true feelings.

"We know each other." He replies neutrally, "But, yeah, I don't think he'd appreciate me coming."

"Oh! Why? Are you two on bad terms?"

The both of you are ascending the flights of stairs leading to your dorm room.

"No." Levi lies, "But-"

"Then come to the party!" You say, and he feels his heart beat excitedly because of your enthusiasm; it feels like you really want him to come.

"I'll try." He says, "Would you mind if I invite Hange?" He adds, realizing that it'd be wise to have his best friend there, in case something goes awfully wrong.

"I've already invited 'em." You beam proudly, stopping at the door of your dorm room, "I'm way ahead of you, Vi. Sorry, Le-Vi." You wink.

You and Levi are lounging around your dorm room; you excitedly show off your polaroid photo collection to him, and he enjoys every bit of your enthusiasm. While complaining about the cost of the film, you're refilling the camera.

"Is the flash off?" You question aloud, lifting it to your face and peering at Levi through the viewfinder.

He's unfairly gorgeous, you think. It's not just because you have a thing for raven-haired people, but also because his features emit this mysteriousness, like a Severus Snape come to life or something.

Levi's eyes are finding excuses not to look up at the camera. Since childhood, cameras have always increased his self-consciousness.

You snap a shot, the sound satisfying to hear, and then place the developing picture face-down on the carpet.

"You've got a face that photographers would love." You comment.

It's almost amusing how red his face becomes at this.

"I don't agree, but thanks." He replies.

It takes all of his self-restraint to stop himself from indulging in your flirting. There's so many little things that you've said so far that are burning bright in his mind.

Levi's got to leave for his evening shift at the cafe soon, but for now the two of you are laying on your backs, a conversation bouncing back and forth between your lips.

In the back of his mind, he's prematurely decided that you prefer Erwin's company, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

There's an indescribable compatibility between you two; like you're two stars that have finally gotten into the same orbit. It almost feels dangerous how well you two get along. Hell, it should be illegal, considering that you barely share any common ground.

It's such a contrast to Erwin, who almost shares every single one of your interests. This attraction between you and Levi even forces you to rethink your philosophy of what makes people fall in love.

"Oh, look." You interrupt the silence, plucking the polaroid shot you snapped earlier.

Levi props up on his elbows, looking at the slightly blurry image. With how his hair dangles and his eyelids hang low, he looks outright delicious to you.

"It's a little blurry." He comments.

"Most polaroid shots are." You say, grabbing the camera again and drawing close to Levi to take a picture.

Such proximity sent his heart racing instantly. The polaroid lens captures this moment and puts it into the eternity of a photo.

The flash makes Levi blink a few times. Why he looks so pretty when he does this, you don't really know why. His shoulder rubs with yours, and it damn near sends him into a frenzy. He's never been this close to anyone.

Neither of you really question the closing distance. It's like you've both cast spells over each other, putting your minds in a bit of a daze.

Levi's looking at you with bigger eyes, you're so close you can see the steel grey and cold blue swirling in his irises.

"I- should- get going, um, my shift started a bit ago." Levi mutters shyly.

"Oh yeah! Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you." You say, hopping to your feet.

The atmosphere of the room recedes back into a tame condition.

While you see Levi out the door, you capture his eyes again.

"I hope I'll see you at the party." You tell him, and his face noticeably brightens.

"I- yeah, I'll be there." He swallows sharply.

"She invited me to the party..." Levi mutters, half in a daze.

He's laying on his bed, still gushing to Hange about the day he's had with you. The lights outside Levi's apartment seem to be gleaming brighter than they used to.

His face has been crimson for half of the retelling of today's events, and Hange can't help but smile.

"This is progress." Hange beams, "I mean, just yesterday you were a total wimp who couldn't even talk to her all by yourself. Look at you now! You're already stealing her away from Erwin."

Levi deadpans at Hange.

"What!" They throw their hands up.

He starts to smile a little, so he rolls over into his pillow to hide it.

Your likes, reblogs and comments never go unnoticed, tysm!

[mellocat925]

Dear Pascal,

I'm really bored again, so I'm going to help you try to make amends with your brother and win over the favor of this town.

The twink with the brown and purple hair (forgot his name) will be sending you a letter pretending to be Vidcund, telling you to meet him at the garden at midnight. Don't be alarmed. He's trying to do that thing where he tricks the two of you into talking, except he's also there to act as a mediator.

The sooner you two reconcile, the sooner you can get a normal life for your son and get the town to stop hating you. And remember to tell him everything that you told me when you were trying to convince me to take you to this cursed place to begin with.

If you say the wrong thing, you'll end up confirming the beliefs of everyone in Willow Creek - that you haven't changed, and you don't deserve of a second chance.

I can't help you if you mess up. The only thing I can do is to take you and your son to a place where you can get a fresh start, far away from everything and everyone you've ever known.

Take care,

Melony Felony

---

Nights in Willow Creek were far different than the ones in Strangetown. The temperature was a gentle type of cold, and crickets and birds would chirp alongside the sound of the wind as Pascal stared at the far less impressive night sky.

His mind hadn't fully processed everything that had happened. One moment he was shoving Vidcund out the door after a heated argument over his fate, another moment he was banging on a see-through wall as Chloe and Lola laughed at his misfortune.

He shuddered as his mind flashed to the day that Chloe read him the final letter that Nervous wrote to him. The one telling him that this would be the very last letter he was going to send, because there was no point in writing to someone who didn't care enough about him to write back.

It was that particular moment, along with unusual pink lights, that alerted Pascal of Vidcund's and Ripp's presences. Half of Vidcund's fate had turned completely pink, but it was an improvement from his entire body turning magenta as the world got engulfed by glitchy pink textures.

"You might be wondering why I gathered you both here today," Ripp said, gesturing to the pink stuff around Vidcund, "It's because you two need to sort your shit out before we're forced to relive our worst memories for another week.

"...I had a lot of time to think while being held prisoner by SCIA," Pascal continued, "I was scared for Tycho, and that fear made me think irrationally. It wasn't fair of me to punish you for something you couldn't control, especially when you were also uncomfortable with what happened."

The glitchy pink texture surrounded Vidcund dispersed into shards as he and Ripp both stared at Pascal with the same startled expression, lingering as everything began to glow pink. Pascal caught a brief glimpse of someone peeking at them behind a tree, who removed her mask to smile at him before disappearing.

"I'm sorry for lashing out on you as well," Vidcund said, after a long period of silence, "I did plan on telling you and Lazlo about it, but he beat me to it first. But I think it'd be best if we remained out of each other's lives."

"Are you still upset?"

"Obviously! Do you think one conversation is going to get rid of the fact that you nearly left me to rot on the streets? If it weren't for A*** and Melony, I would've died!"

Vidcund took a deep breath as Ripp patted him on the back in a feeble attempt to calm him down.

"And even if we did choose to forgive each other," Vidcund continued, "There's always going to be that 'what-if' in the back of your head. You're never going to fully trust me."

"I know," Pascal said, sighing, “Maybe I’ll never stop being paranoid. Maybe your destiny hasn’t occurred yet, and maybe I’ll never be able to trust you again. But I’d like to at least try. I don’t want things to end like this.”

The pink shards were beginning to fade as Vidcund looked down at Pascal with a puzzled expression, his right eye twitching underneath pink-tinted glasses before tears began streaking down his face.

"Yeah," he said, sniffling, "I'd like that too...Let's give this another try."

---

And as I stand behind a tree and watch their reconciliation, I can't help but wonder...if someone like him, branded as unforgivable, was able to receive forgiveness for what he's done...

Is there hope for me, too?

[seal-writes-stuff]

SFW Alphabet - Connie Nikas

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, NSFW mentions

Summary: All in the title!

A/N: Hi everyone! I’ve been working on this one for a while, so I’m glad to finally share it with you. Hope you enjoy!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Connie's affectionate, but in a more discreet way. He shows his love through teasing; Connie's not good at expressing his emotions, so this feels safe for him.

It’s either that or doing stuff for you. Connie likes feeling useful and wants you to feel pampered.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Your friendship is… Let’s just say “chaotic". He’s the kind of friend who’s down for anything, but he’s also the kind of friend who assumes that you’re down for anything as well. Even though you’ve known each other since high school, Connie always finds a way to surprise you with some of his ideas.

At the same time, Connie’s the kind of friend who’s always ready to hear you out, regardless of the circumstances. You treasure the time you’ve spent together. He’s the guy you’ve made your fondest memories with.

The hardest part is to not confess your feelings for each other by accident.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Connie likes to play tough. He’s spent a big part of his life in the world where open vulnerability was a sign of weakness, which makes it hard for him to be truly intimate with other people. That said, cuddles from him are a sign of love and trust; he craves your touch, even though he does his best to hide it.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

You've had your doubts, but Connie is surprisingly good at cooking and cleaning. He's not an expert, but he's got the basics covered since he had to care for his brother and sometimes his grandma pretty much his entire life. Connie still orders takeout whenever he can though - in his mind, it's easier and has less bad memories attached.

And as for settling down… For Connie, it's been nothing but a distant dream for a long time, so he's hesitant. Still, it happens organically: he hangs out at your place so much that one day he just kinda lives here, and neither of you would have it any other way.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

As horrible as it sounds, he'd probably just disappear. Connie wouldn't be able to stomach outright breaking up with you, especially if it happened because he’s gotten in some deep shit again and wanted to keep you safe. He'd leave and push all the thoughts about it as far as possible, hoping you could forgive him one day.

Connie would try to convince himself it's the best, the only decision he could make, even if he regrets it forever.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Connie has a… Complicated relationship with commitment. He’s not even scared of it, he simply doesn’t consider himself a good person, so he doesn’t want to subject you to a lifetime of misery in his company.

But even then, Connie would agree to marry you in a heartbeat. He still wouldn’t understand why you’re doing this, but hey, who is he to question you?

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Let’s be real, Connie’s pretty clueless when it comes to real, genuine emotional intimacy. He wants you to feel good, to feel safe and content the way he does with you, but he doesn’t know how to do it. So Connie’s as gentle as he can be with you, but there’s still a lot to learn.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

When it’s just the two of you, Connie hugs you often. First of all, it allows him to be close to you – something Connie desperately wishes for, as much as he likes to pretend otherwise. Second of all, hugs are perfect way to rile you up pretty much without doing anything. All in all, it’s an absolute win in his eyes.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

A week or two into your relationship. For Connie, the L-word doesn’t hold the same significance that it does for other people. He loves you, he wants you to know that he loves you, so why the hell should he wait any longer? You’re shocked and flatter – but you accept it, of course.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Connie gets jealous a lot, even though he doesn't always act on it. In Connie’s mind, it’s just another reminder that you could do better than him, maybe even that you should. No matter how much you remind Connie that you wouldn’t want anyone but him, the shitty feeling is always lingering. Not only that, he doesn’t have a lot of healthy outlets for his jealousy either; so while Connie never takes it out on you, “the threat” he perceives another person to be is a different story.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Most of the time his kisses are mischievous and teasing. As I’ve mentioned before, this man loves to rile you up and the way he kisses you very much reflects that. The other type of Connie’s kisses, however, is all but reserved for special occasions; they’re slow and soothing, as if he’s telling you everything is going to be alright.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Connie’s pretty good with kids – and it’s not even that surprising, considering he’s had a lot of practice from a very young age. Granted, Connie might be awkward at first, but his skills come back to him soon enough.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Two words: he’s asleep. As in, absolutely out of it. Connie’s sleeping schedule is erratic, mostly depending on when his schemes are taking place, so he takes his sweet time in the morning. Still, you always take a moment to peck him on the cheek before heading off to work.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Since Connie’s usually up all night, he loves being by your side. It doesn’t even matter what you’re doing – going on the most extravagant date ever or lying in bed, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. You’re together and it’s all that matters for him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Connie doesn't like to talk about his past. It feels embarrassing and unnecessary for him, so he'd rather just not do it at all. You assure him over and over that you'd accept him no matter how much or little he reveals, but there's always this persistent doubt in his mind that Connie can't quite shake. So he'd definitely reveal things slowly, if ever at all.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Even though Connie can get agitated when things go really wrong, he’s pretty chill in his everyday life. Besides, he tries to be gentle with you – you’re all he has, so he’d hate to scare you away.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers a lot of things about you, to the point it's almost unnerving. Connie's always observing you a lot when you are together - not out of malice, you just fascinate him. The details kind of get stuck in his head as a result.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The two of you had a plenty of memorable moments in your relationship, but Connie’s favorite is the pillow talk you’ve had after your first time together. He still remembers you tracing his tattoos with a sweet smile on your face, whispering how much you love him over and over again. It wasn’t even about sex, he just couldn’t get over how gentle and intimate that was.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Connie’s pretty protective. Everything he’s been through in his life made him paranoid, so he wants you to be okay, always. And if something, anything would get in a way of that, Connie would go to great (and sometimes illegal) lengths to get rid of it. Nothing is too much if it means keeping you safe.

On the other hand, Connie wouldn’t want you to protect him. Hell, he wouldn’t even want you to know that he’s ever in danger in the first place. Your love is enough of a protection for him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Most of the time Connie doesn’t have a lot of money to spend – something he’s painfully aware of. That said, he still tries his best to make you feel special. Connie’s so happy to have a person who accepts him with all of his flaws, so he wants you to always remember how much he appreciates you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Connie lies a lot – about the most mundane things, too. If you pressed him, he wouldn’t even be able to tell you why he does it. Connie tries to stop for your sake but he just can’t help it sometimes; lying got him out of a lot shady situations in the past, so nowadays it’s a pattern he can’t quite break.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not really. Connie's always seen his body as a tool for doing things, so he doesn't care about his appearance very much. He's surprised every time you start gushing over how hot and beautiful he is (and he's also insanely flustered, but he'd never tell you that).

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. You're his home - and, let's be honest, a moral compass - in a lot of ways. Connie wouldn’t know what to do with himself without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Connie pretends to be annoyed about it, but seeing you in his clothes actually means everything to him. For Connie it’s very sweet and domestic; another way to say that you love him, that you want to share your life with him. He’s more than ready to sacrifice any of his hoodies for that feeling.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Connie bends, if not outright breaks, the rules a lot, however that may manifest. So he probably wouldn’t date someone who’s not okay with that. He also wouldn’t be with someone who insists on knowing everything about his life and/or his family right off the bat. It’s a whole mess Connie himself isn’t ready to unpack.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Connie's a heavy sleeper: he goes to bed pretty late, but once he’s out, he’s out. He also holds you like his life depends on it – and you hold him too, glad to spending every night in his arms.

[cbsghostsmetasandtrevor]

CBS Ghosts - Pilot - Sam & Jay Fight

Warning Possible Spoilers.

LMAO - Jay just wants to have a shower - I feel that. I'd be upset if I couldn't since it wakes me up.

Side note - I’m amused that Sam is writing her article (I assume) on the ladder.  

Two things are interesting here - they originally decided to go to the Woodstone for the weekend, so we’ve lost a whole day unless they only came up Saturday to Sunday.  

Also, interesting - Sam has clearly already decided on living at the mansion (probably before they ever got there) while Jay is far more practical about moving into a rundown old house.  

I definitely wonder if her quick acceptance had to deal with being miserable in the city?  (I assume she was by later comments, like ‘we barely saw each other”, “we worked so much - never home”, Ect.)  

She also blends into the country life way easier than Jay does into the mansion and I don’t believe that it’s solely due to the ghosts - she never mentions the city life, friends or missing anything about it in the way that Jay clearly does. She never mentions wanting to visit the city or complaining that seeing ghosts doesn't allow her to do it as easily anymore.

Okay - so, this is funny.  Jay’s like “I’m going to say it - mumbles”.  

Jay, that is just not how this works!  Also, did Sam not expect to have this conversation?  She sounds surprised even though that is literally what they agreed to do.  It was MEANT to be a visit to evaluate and discuss, but she acts like they already did.

Okay - multiple things here - AGAIN it’s the 4 OLDEST ghosts that have chosen to watch Sam & Jay.  Now, is it because they’re worried about losing their free rein of the house?  (They were the most concerned about new comers).  Is it because they’re very bored?  But then, wouldn’t the others be bored, too? Is there another reason?

We know that Trevor & Pete are having a war with the Vase, but what about Flower & Alberta?  Why aren’t they invested in their possible new livings?

Also, they’re all excited that Jay’s saying “Damn it, I don’t want to uproot our entire lives” - is this exciting because ‘nothing better than a husband/wife fight’ or is it because they’re like - maybe our lives won't change after all?  

Lastly, THE LOOKS ON THEIR FACES when Thor compares it to ‘Finding a new type of cod’ - OMG.  It’s freaking hilarious.  I love it. We should get to see flashbacks of their lives without Sam and Jay.

Okay.  Sam, I need you to listen to me - this isn’t about ‘Change’ - it’s beyond crazy to uproot your lives on a dime and take out all of the money to RISK losing everything.  Yes, change is scary, but you didn’t answer the question - and you definitely decided that you wanted to move before you ever saw the house.

I wish they had let Jay truly explain what the issue is - it’s more than being afraid to change - this isn’t just changing jobs, moving someplace or having a baby, this is quitting your jobs and suddenly deciding to open a business on a dime.  It’s kind of insane.  

Plus, you're leaving everything you've ever known behind and all of your friends behind to be completely alone out in the country.

I wonder if the friends they had were only Jay's friends and that's why she's so game to just ... leave them behind.

LOL, Isaac.  He’s just like so smitten - Jay was not even trying to be funny.  I do love that Sass is giving Isaac a look like ‘who you kidding’, Thor doesn’t care, and Hetty’s smiling - given the story in Whodunnit, do we think Hetty realizes what’s going on with Isaac?  

She could technically believe he’s into both (or be hopeful) given what happens in Thorapy.  It is believable since she knows that he was once married.

This is the EXACT moment Hetty decides that she likes Sam despite her ‘hideous pants and saucy hairdo’.  She’s like “Woodstone - connection - Family, love it.”

It does explain her reaction later on (at the end of the episode) when she originally opted haunt them out of the house and get rid of her.

However, it doesn't explain her reaction in the episode and wanting her to leave again.

LMAO - Sass is like “Our home sucks” and Hetty’s like “Damn it - give the house more respect”.  It’s a funny exchange.

ANYWHO - Jay is absolutely right.  They were barely surviving in NYC and NOW you want to dump money you don’t have in house out in the middle of nowhere?  Nah.  That’s nutty.

Side note - Sam & Jay want to start a family and in TB, he calls the ghosts their 8 idiot kids and I have to wonder WHEN exactly they decided on that and how that factors into having their own family. I do wonder if it is part of the reason that Sam and Jay do quickly adapt to having the ghosts and wanting to do the B&B and all. If that makes sense?

THIS IS AN EXCELLENT POINT JAY!  When you become a couple you should make decisions JOINTLY!  This is WAY too crazy an idea to give into on a whim - you could at least take more time to decide!

Maybe talk it over with Jay's parents or your friends. Don't just DO IT.

WHAT EVEN IS THIS???? Like Sam - this makes no sense.  Jay’s right, she’s learned nothing.  OTOH this is apparently what she does - storm out.  Which is interesting.  Also interesting, having this discussion naked in a bathrobe.

Awww, Hetty’s watching her storm out - probably surprised, she never would have considered doing that with Elias because she didn’t have the power Sam has in the 21st century in the 19th century, but also, she just seemed to warm up to Sam (because she wants to raise a family in the family home), so she’s like ‘now I'm going to lose her’.  

LMAO - what an ending to the scene.  Thor’s probably thinking ‘damnit no sex show’ and laughing because Jay won’t be getting sex, while hurting Isaac who’s like ‘Damn it man’.  Sass just rolling his eyes.  ‘Ya’ll are idiots’.  

Anyway, that’s it for this scene - I agree with Jay (he’s being the logical/rational side - which he ruins at the end of the episode) while Sam’s being the emotional/irrational side, which ironically changes at the end of the episode.  

Obviously there would be NO show without Jay caving, but he isn’t wrong for his perspective on things.  I do wonder just how miserable Sam was in NYC to make this drastic of a change in the blink of an eye.

Thanks for reading :)

Feel free to Chat :)

[nevercured]

Hello Never! I'm taking 🪞 anon!!

So... I wanted to have advice on a hard situation.

I have someone that I love dearly[not romantic!!] that would be conscidered a possessive and sadistic yandere(maybe even doting...?), and even if to me our bond is unclear; to him it is since apparently "he knew" for my obsession / FP link that I have with him, and doesn't seem to care much, even when asking for his boundaries he said that it was fine. I told him beforehand that I felt like he adopted me, and even if it wasn't a clear "yes", it was a positive reaction?? Plus to that, everyone in our circle feels like I'm his pet. Which I'm totally okay with.

I don't know what he REALLY feels, and it frustrates me so much!! But that isn't my main problem. (However I wouldn't mind some clear-up about this because he's driving me insane)

The thing is that he has a boyfriend. And in all honesty, I don't care in the most positive way ever. I even appreciate his boyfriend and I would hope they would both adopt me. But his boyfriend is also a possessive type (and maybe others??) to his boyfriend.

"You're mine and I'm yours"

Type of relationship. I'm glad for them, really! But I really feel in the way. I want to tell to my FP's boyfriend the truth, by respect and that I'd rather die by the truth than living in a lie and then die because everything gets known, but I don't really know how. I don't want to compete with him. Like I don't love my FP like he does. Not the same type of love nor obsession. Their eachother's theirs, but I only belong to my FP. I just want them to show me affection and to take care of me forever, nothing more. I'm just willing to do a lot just to make them happy that it goes obsessive. I don't have jealousy at all.

I hope you can help me!! Thanks!

Dear🪞,

It sounds like your FP is keeping you in the dark as far as his feelings on the matter. If he's a sadistic type it's likely an intentional choice. He enjoys making you wonder where you stand-- and if he is a doting type, he enjoys the attention that comes from having a "pet" always longing for his attention.

It sounds like you have a clear idea of what you want-- or at least you genuinely believe you do. You want them both to care about you, but they're caught up in each other and you've been pushed to the side. As far as whether you should tell your FP's boyfriend the truth, it's likely he already knows as a possessive type. Yet still, your desires are ignored and brushed off as unimportant.

If you truly hope to be his pet, then you need to come to terms with this. A good pet or darling, especially to a sadistic type, would learn to enjoy the abuse, to sit with those feelings and devote them entirely to their Yandere.

Is that what you want?

Or is what you want unimportant, pet?

-Never🗡️