#he’s such a boy and I’ll die angry

[bigtreefest]

Jimmy Dobyne? More like Jimmy Do-bane of my existence

[xx-sketchy-xx]

him

I need more Fanart of him (btw I just wanted to draw cursed dally lol)

Also he slays as a girl lol

[crossbackpoke-check]

BERGGY HAT TRICK NIGHT 🚨🚨🚨

[vmlnrznotfound]

Hello! I saw the open requests, could you please make another one of we are mad at The boys?, with Raichi, Reo and Nagi? pretty please!

I loved your writing, please take your time and take care <3

[PART2] MY GIRL IS MAD AT ME, I HOPE I DIE.

characters: raichi, reo, nagi

a/n: hi anonnie, glad you love my writing! take care too!

RAICHI JINGO

you were trying your best to ignore raichi’s loud attempts to get your attention, but it was nearly impossible. he was ranting about how unfair it was that you were still mad at him. his loud voice echoed through the house as he complained, and his frustration was palpable.

“i said i’m sorry!” raichi groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. he was clearly used to getting his way with his brash personality, and your silent treatment was driving him crazy. you rolled your eyes and turned away, continuing to ignore him as you scrolled through your phone.

raichi’s impatience reached its peak, and before you could react, he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you up from your seat. without a word, he lifted you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried you toward the bedroom.

“put me down!” you demanded, but he ignored your protests, his grip tight and unyielding. he kicked open the door to the bedroom and unceremoniously dumped you onto the bed. his rough approach left you stunned, and you stared up at him in disbelief.

he leaned over you, his eyes fierce and determined. “i’m not letting you leave this room until you forgive me,” he declared, his voice low and intense. “you can be mad all you want, but i’m not going anywhere until you tell me what i need to do to make this right.”

“you can’t just force me to forgive you,” you shot back, sitting up on the bed and glaring at him. “that’s not how it works.”

he groaned, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “then tell me how it works! i don’t know how to do this stuff, alright? i’m not good with…with feelings and all that crap. but i hate this. i hate seeing you like this, knowing it’s my fault.”

MIKAGE REO

reo was at his wit's end. he'd tried everything—flowers, chocolates, even your favorite pastries from that fancy bakery downtown—but nothing seemed to break through the wall of silence you’d built around yourself. you sat on the couch, your attention fully absorbed in a book, acting as if reo wasn’t even there.

“please, talk to me,” reo pleaded, kneeling beside the couch. his usually confident demeanor was replaced with a look of genuine concern. “i’m sorry, okay? i know i messed up, but can’t you at least say something?”

reo’s patience was running thin, but he knew getting angry would only make things worse. he sat beside you, his knee brushing against yours, but you shifted slightly away, still not acknowledging his presence.

“come on, don’t do this,” reo whispered, leaning in closer, his voice tinged with desperation. “i’m really sorry. you know i’d do anything to make it up to you.”

"..."

“if you won’t talk to me,” he said, his voice low and intense, “then i’ll just have to stay here until you do. i’m not going anywhere until you forgive me.”

he shifted closer this time, his presence impossible to ignore. reo reached out and gently took your hand, holding it firmly even when you tried to pull away.

“i’m not perfect,” he admitted quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “but i love you, and i hate that you’re upset because of me. i’m not going to leave until we fix this, even if it means sitting here in silence until you’re ready to talk.”

NAGI SEISHIRO

“i’m not letting go until you forgive me. stop resisting.” nagi seishiro, usually so relaxed and detached, was now hovering over you, his arms wrapped around you tightly. his head rested on your chest, his breath warm against your skin as he held you close.

you shifted slightly, trying to pull away, but nagi only tightened his embrace. “let me go,” you whispered, but his grip only grew firmer.

“no,” he said, his tone soft but resolute. “be mad. be upset. but you won’t leave until you forgive me. you’re staying right here with me,”

he continued to cuddle you, his muscular build making it impossible for you to escape his hold. nagi’s usual carefree attitude was replaced with a rare vulnerability as he stayed close, hoping that his presence alone would help bridge the gap between you and make things right.

“please,” he added quietly, his voice barely a whisper. “just tell me what i need to do. i’m not letting go until you say it.”

“seishiro” you murmured, frustration lacing your words. you tried again to free yourself, but his arms remained unyielding.

"no longer your sei now?" nagi’s grip tightened further, his face pressing closer to your chest. “i know i messed up,” he admitted, his voice muffled by your clothing. “but i can’t fix it if you’re not here with me. i’m trying to show you that i care. i know saying sorry isn’t enough.”

[houpss]

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡���𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

soft and fluff, will be about all members (!), there may be hints of smut

Chan, who sees the meaning of life in you and wants to see you always in front of him all his life.

What do they say? People who truly love will die one day.

Chan, who promised to love you until the day death finds him, and even after that. He doesn't want to leave you.

The most tender dates, the most tender times. He will give you all his love and attention.

Chan, who tells the members so much about you, you are their “9th member”

Chan, who you're talking to video call with his family! and btw with yours too.

Chan, who, regardless of how busy the day is, will spend the evenings with you. Whether it's cooking or watching a movie/serials/k drama

Chan, who remembers every little thing about you and does what you don’t even ask for, but are clearly thinking about.

Meeting Chan was fate, maybe you were given each other by fate?

Oh..he looks at you like an angel, his eyes shine so brightly when he sees you!

Chan, who gives you a large bouquet of your favorite flowers every Friday.

He writes you songs, from the sad to the most vulgar... oh, the boy is simply overwhelmed with emotions for you.

Chan, who takes you on all his world tours because he finds it difficult without you.

He is the most gentle and sweetest with you! your heart literally breaks with love for him, you want to love and kiss this man.

Chan, who sits you on his lap while he works and holds your waist with one hand...babe, he has hot and big hands

Chan, who pays for ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING for you. seriously, even if you argue with him.

I wrote this situation, but...

"Channie, make me some coffee please"

"Ugh...I'm late, little mouse"

"So you won't do it? :("

"That means I’ll be late” and goes to make coffee for his beloved woman/man

His favorite terms of endearment for you are subtle but classic: “sweetheart” and “baby,” but on special occasions he will call you “sweetheart” with a matching saccharine expression. Or “little mouse”, which is also very cute

Chan, sometimes he can get angry and yell at you, but that's because he puts too much pressure on himself at work.

Oh..during your quarrels even plates and insults fly. After one quarrel, there were broken plates and you cut yourself, he noticed this and took you to the bathroom, where he treated the wound and apologized to you almost a hundred times. And the plates...buy new ones.

Chan, who practices flirting with you like you're in high school, but he learned it from STAY

Chan, who gives you all his hoodies and absolutely everything... for some reason you love to steal his shorts and walk around the house in them. Ooh, he thinks they fit really sexy on your hips.

He'll give you a bear hug when you sleep, he's a big spoon

He also always kisses your forehead when he leaves for work, because you are still sleeping, and he is already leaving.

but keep in mind, Chan makes sweet sex to you, but his stroking game is so crazy, even when he takes his time with you, he's so deep inside you that it drives you crazy, you're literally pray

Chan is an experienced and mature man, he is completely confident in himself and in you. He takes the leading position in the relationship, he is the one who leads.

Do I need to tell you that all his things smell like your perfume? What if all your things are in his perfume?

You sometimes help him with lyrics or with song arrangements when he gets stuck and doesn’t understand what’s best to add.

You, who pulls the vat out of the studio.

You, who always checks how he ate or how much he slept. You absolutely monitor his regime and make sure he doesn’t overwork.

You are flying to Australia together to visit his family! they will bless your couple.

Hannah will definitely say funny things about Chris, and Lucas is so shy around you.

Oh...Berry, baby Berry 🥹🥹🥹

How about date nights?

You really raised Chan's self-esteem, with you...he fell in love with himself, just as you love him.

He's just grateful that you exist.

First love is always last love.

“Home” is not a place, it is sometimes only a man, the man whom you consider your home.

When you come, all Chan’s problems and wounds heal, he wants to live next to you.

[holylulusworld]

Cabin at the lake (2)

Summary: You have a much-needed vacation. There’s only one problem…

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Assistant!Reader

Warnings: SB being an ass, tension, arguments, vacation hijacking (is that a thing?), sexual themes (talk about), misogynism

A/N: Another drabble.

Cabin at the lake (1)

Cabin at the lake masterlist

While you are still fuming, Soldier Boy cocks his head and yawns loudly. If you didn’t mishear, he farted in your company too. Well, at least you’re outside; the fresh air will help you.

“Didn’t you forget something, sweetness?” Soldier Boy blinks his eyes open to look at you with these piercing green eyes.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you huff and cross your arms over your chest. If he hijacks your vacation, he can eat shit. You won’t follow his orders within the next fourteen days. “I guess you forgot that I’m still on vacation.”

“You don’t get to just go on vacation while people out there need me,” Soldier Boy huffs. “You shouldn’t be so selfish, Y/N. What’d people think about you, hearing you go on a vacation while everyone out there suffers.”

You square your jaw. This man is the epitome of selfishness.

“You are the hero, not me,” you say instead of everything burning your tongue. “I’m a mere employee, getting your coffee and sending your one-nighters home. You cannot expect me to be around three hundred sixty-five days a year.”

“Three-hundred sixty-six days this year,” he grins at you. “Now, get me my omelet. I’m hungry. And you better not forget the good stuff. I need something to smoke and a drink.”

“I do not smoke,” you snap at your boss. “I hope you don’t expect me to have drugs at my cabin either.”

“I know you are a bad girl hiding the good stuff from me,” Soldier Boy suddenly jumps up to stalk toward you. “I’ll go for a swim. When I get out, I want that omelet, sweetness. If I do not smell eggs soon, you will not sit properly for a week.”

“You’ve got to be shitt—” Your words die in your throat watching Soldier Boy get out of his suit. He smirks when you open your mouth, but no words come out. He’s shamelessly walking around naked. “What are you doing? You’ll scare the fishes.”

“Well then, I’ll catch a few and you can cook them for me,” he turns around to show you his naked ass. “I still want the eggs, though.”

“You’ve got two dangling between your legs. How about you eat them.” You chuckle at your stupid joke. “I won’t cook for you. You better leave my ground.” You turn around and stalk toward the cabin.

If he won’t leave, you’ll simply lock him out.

“I heard that!” He calls after you. “Yeah, that’s a good girl. Going inside to cook for her man.”

You stop in your tracks to turn around and give him the finger. “Fuck. YOU!”

Storming inside your cabin you slam the door shut, locking it. If you would’ve thought this through, you’d remember that he’d simply burst the door open. Right now, you are too angry and pissed to even think straight.

“He can’t just come here and ruin my vacation!”

You hear a loud bang, wood splits and the door falls to the ground with a loud thud. Now seconds later, Soldier Boy casually walks inside your cabin, still naked. He carries the door he ripped out of its angles tugged under his arm.

“Fuck, the water is perfect,” he drops the door to the ground, making you flinch. “Did you believe for one second this will keep me out?” He furrows his brows while searching your face.

“I had hoped you’ve got some decency left and won’t go any further,” you throw your hands up. “I can’t believe you came here to order me around during my well-deserved vacation.”

“Well-deserved?” He snickers. “You’d only ever deserve vacation if you sucked my dick good. Getting me coffee and shit doesn’t make you a good employee.”

“You are so…infuriating!” You throw your teacup at him. He laughs when it hits him right in the chest, only to fall to the ground. “I wish I could just throw you out of my life…wait…” You suddenly realize there is a way to get rid of him. “I quit.”

You suddenly can breathe again. You’re giddy and jump up and down. Even though you’ve got no job any longer, you feel much better.

“Now get off my lawn.”

“Hah, that’s even better,” Soldier Boy stalks toward you with a big grin on his face. “Now HR won’t go after my balls when I ruin your sweet cunt…”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[lanoslamp]

haiiii- um if your requests are open can you do gojo getting absolutely demolished by domtop m reader.... pls pls lots of praise and maybe a pink collar if you're ok with that? If not just ordering him around and degrading/humiliating gojo is fine (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡ I am not too picky

Also, if you have an anon list, can I be 🕳️anon? If it's taken, I would like to be 🍀 or 🫚anon then!

Take your time and remember to take breaks (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ !!

ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ

note: I didn’t know if u wanted afab gojo, so I didn’t add afab lang in this lil’ drabble. I also cringed a lil making this fic so appreciate it 😕 I think I lost track but…. I may have been high making this so there’s many details I forgot… 🤭

warnings:: no beta read, we die like men. sexual content, praise, (undercover edging) collars, leashing, orgasm denial, humiliation, overstim, gojo’s infinity doesn’t work, you can’t find logic here sorry.. suffocation (???) no prep :(

synopsis:: the strongest gets a nice little reward for being a good boy.

“name…hngh, mph.. please..?” gojo pleads as you stroke his dick slowly, your rough palms sliding against the vein of his dick so nicely. it’s only been around 5 minutes, but it feels like it’s been hours. “just wait f’me, m’kay? if you hold it, I’ll give you a reward.” he nods his head, on the verge of tears from the pain coming from his red, angry cock. “doin’ so good for me… like the good boy you are.” you pick up the pace, stroking his cock faster, little by little. “please.. please, please..” you cover his slit, preventing any cum leaking out.

You smear his pre all over his tip before covering his slit again. “not yet.” you mumble, staring at his little cock in amusement as you notice his cock the same shade as his face, his cock twitching in your hand as you slow down, seeing how gojo’s cock twitches and turns from different paces, like you’re experimenting on him. gojo whines from frustration, moving to put his hand on his cock. you slap it away, looking at him with a dissatisfied expression.

you stop stroking him, letting go of his cock as he whines from the loss of buildup. “you want to cum? hm, gojo?” you ask him in a mocking tone, but gojo doesn’t even notice from the desperation to cum, I mean… hey, you can’t really blame him. he wanted to cum so bad, he couldn’t control it..!! he nods in a heartbeat, agreeing without hesitation. “mhm, wanna cum so badd..!”

you put a pink little collar on his neck, connecting the buckle before connecting a leash to the d-ring. “on all fours, baby.” gojo complies, getting on his hands and knees, facing the wall. You run your hand down his spine, gojo shivering from the touch, his back arching. you hold his hips and place before sliding your cock into his pretty pink hole slowly.

gojo whines at the intrusion in his hole, hiding his face in the sheets as you continue, bottoming out with a groan, while gojo whimpers into the sheets. his hole pulses around your cock, chains of curses and moans coming from his mouth.

you let out a sigh before grabbing the leash, holding the grip securely. you finally (to gojo) decide to move, your cock sliding in and out his ass nicely. his hole so welcoming, as if it was made for you, molded perfectly like a fleshlight. thinking about it gets you riled up, picking up the pace with each thrust. gojo mewls, gasping and moaning, each moan cutting off the other like little ‘ah, ah ah’s’

“hnn.. oh, right— right there..!” gojo spewed, a guttural moan forced from his mouth as you tugged on his collar with a leash, gojo came from only that, his semen staining his pretty pink gown. his hole squirms and clenches around you, as if he doesn’t want you to move not an inch. you smirk and continue your pace, wrapping the leash around your arm before pulling it.

the feeling— is one that of fear and bliss. one part of his mind is in a panic from the loss of oxygen. instinctively, he puts his hand up to his neck, and tears threaten to escape from his eyes. but then again, the other part is thinking about the overwhelming pleasure— you plowing him from behind. your pace— is almost poisonous. it’s slowly killing him.

oh fuck.

his dick twitches again before he cums again, his back arching so suddenly it starts to hurt. his eyes roll back into his head, pure ecstasy overlapping his thoughts. you let go of the leash before pulling out, letting gojo fall on the bed.

“why’d you give out? we have much more to do..” you turn him on his back, moving his right leg to his shoulder, getting in between his legs. gojo doesn’t even comprehend or realize what you’re about to do as he lets himself be handled by you.

you slide your cock back inside his ass before immediately gettting down to business before gojo finally realizes what you’re doing “w-wait..! no more..!” gojo exclaims, moving his legs and closing them “mm? I still haven’t came yet.” you said while moving his legs back. “be a good boy and take it, ‘kay?” gojo nods before wrapping his arm around your neck, positioning himself move comfortably.

“good boy..” you praise him before bottoming out again, this time moving with only a motive to cum, fucking him like he’s a sex doll of some sort. gojo cries out at the new angle, feeling as if you’re fucking him in the guts. you level yourself to his neck, assaulting his nape, leaving red and purple blotches after you’re done with each part of skin you’ve been working on.

girly squeals and cries escape gojo as you thrust your hips like a wild beast in heat. his hands bury themselves in your hair, tugging on each coil/string of hair as he whines from the overstimulation. tear-stained face, a red angry cock begging for attention, and a very tired gojo.

once again, he feels that tight, white coil of heat building in his belly, and it feels like with each thrust of your hips, you’re tugging on it, stretching it further, and further. his prostate? abused. everything feels raw, and gojo just can’t explain the feeling. but he’s snapped out of his trance when you hit his prostate, repeatedly nudging against it. the friction is just too much to handle!! gojo orgasms right there on the spot, the coil pulling back as it’s limit was reached, gojo’s back arching and his toes curling, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he reaches a state of absolutely nothing, but of bliss. his ass clenches around your cock, making you climax right after, your hips stuttering as you squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lip to contain a groan, but it slips right out.

after the both of you come down from your high, you wipe his tears before smiling at him “that’s my good boy.”

lanoslamp 2024. do not steal.

hand me the requests before the semester starts or else broken light bulbs will be shoved up asses like anal sex 😽

[dreamingonfilm]

✧˖*°࿐ Cramps | D.M

Draco Malfoy x f!reader, fluff

Summary: In which Draco takes care of you whilst you’re on your period.

Request: Yes

w/c: 1.1K

You groaned once more as you rolled over in bed, grabbing hold of your covers and bringing them above your head to try and muffle the sound of your roommates talking. On most days, you’d be right there alongside them, complaining about your most recent potions assignment  and gossipping about who is taking who to the upcoming Yule ball. But today, all you wanted to do was lay in bed, curl up in a ball, and die; any means of escape necessary to help ease the pain that was going on in your uterus.

It was already noon, and you were still in bed. You had no plans on leaving soon, even if it meant sacrificing your weekend trip to Hogsmeade that you had been planning for the past few weeks. Your friends only giving you looks of sympathy, as they started grabbing hold of all their things, getting ready to leave for the day.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” One of the girls asked you, as the group started heading for the door.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you squeak out, “I don’t think it’s going to get any better any time soon. Can you just tell Draco I’m not going?” 

They give you a small nod as they close the door behind them. The room finally silent after a full morning of chatter, at last you could take a nap. 

You bury yourself deeper into your sheets as you try and find a more comfortable position. The warmth of the blankets hugging your body as you found yourself drifting further and further into sleep. Nothing could disturb you now.

Nothing except for Draco that is.

The door flung open, a loud bang ricocheting off the walls, as he rushed over to your side. A worried look plastered on his face as he went to put his palm on your forehead. A look of confusion now taking over once he realized you weren’t actually ill. 

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” he asked, going in to give you a kiss on the cheek, “the girls told me that you were sick so I decided to stay behind as well. But you don’t seem ill.” 

You didn’t know whether to be angry at him for disturbing you, or appreciative of the fact that he cared about your well-being. You sat yourself up from the bed, a cramp hitting you as you did so, causing you to let out a little yelp in pain and clutch your stomach. Draco gave you a look of sympathy as he realized what was wrong.

“I’m not sick Draco,” you let him know, “just on my period.” 

He let out a small hum and gave you a gentle kiss on the nose. It was days like these that you were thankful for the blonde, mean-eyed, Slytherin boy that you were able to call your boyfriend. It was no surprise to you as to why so many people saw Draco as cold, you weren’t a stranger to his rude remarks and cold glances, but thankfully throughout your years at Hogwarts, Draco and you managed to develop a strong and unbreakable bond. One that gave him the confidence to show you this soft side of him, and for this you were grateful.

So, by routine, the boy got up from your side and started heading out the door. 

“I’ll be back with your tea and a pumpkin pastry.” He put his hand to the knob and started stepping out.

“Wait!” You interrupted. He turned around and gave you a confused look. It became habitual for him to get you tea and sweets whenever you were sick or during your period, and usually you were okay with him leaving you for just a few minutes.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No, just, for the tea,” you hid a shy smile in midst of his concerned gaze, “just remember to add honey and tw–”

“Two sugarcubes, but not the ones from the first cabinet, the ones hidden behind the ugly flower vase near the window.” He finished your sentence. It was such a small and silly thing to be flustered about, especially since it is something that happens so often, but right now, all you could think about was the fact that he was in your room taking care of you and that he remembered how you like your tea. 

“I’d be a terrible boyfriend if I didn’t remember. I’ll be back soon, my sweet.” He came back up next to you and gave you a kiss, turning around and then finally exiting the room.

—-

Twenty minutes later your boyfriend finally returned. In his hands your tea, some sweets, and one of his sweaters. He gave you a flashy grin as he came to your side, placing the things down on your bedside table. 

“Drink this,” he handed you the tea, “It will make you feel better.” 

You grab hold of the small cup and start drinking it. Groaning and trying to resist the urge to curl up into a fetal position every few moments from the constant cramping. “Thank you Dray, but I don’t think the pain is going to go away soon.” 

The boy took the now empty cup and set it aside. He pushed a stray strand of hair away from your face and behind your ear as he went to lay down next to you. Peppering your face with kisses as you laughed in between, almost forgetting about the ache. “Is it really that bad?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You let out sweetly, bringing yourself close to him to try and capture some of his warmth. He smelt of mint and mahogany, a scent that you knew all too well. The boy grabbed the sweater from your bedside and handed it to you, watching as you put it over your tank top. He grabbed hold of your hands and started rolling up the sleeves.

“Then,” he finally finished rolling the sleeves and gave you a small kiss, “I guess I will stay with you until you feel better.” 

“Even if it’s for the rest of the week?” You asked him, taking notice of how soft his gaze has become. 

He closed the small remaining space between you. Both of your bodies glued together as he hummed your favorite song into your ear. Forgetting about your missed Hogsmeade trip, as well as the Pumpkin Pastries that were now going cold on your bedside, he responded,

“Especially if it means the rest of the week.” 

And you didn’t doubt his words for a second.

✧˖*°࿐

thank you for reading! check out my masterlist here!

[charliedawn]

Hi Charliedawn! Are you still doing requests? If so, how would the slashers react if Y/N pranked them of leaving forever? (You may ignore this if you want)

Freddy:

"Hey now ! Where d’ya think yer goin’ ?!"

Freddy shrieked and was so loud he alerted every single slasher in a 50 miles radius and they all came to see you with your bags. In an instant, they all came forth and pulled you back. You thought you could leave ? Ah ! Nope. Better luck next time.

Penny:

Penny doesn’t sleep and can hear a pin drop from China. You aren’t going anywhere as long as he has decided he still wanted you around. Besides, he can also read minds. So if you plan to skedaddle ? He’d be the first to know and stop you. Or else you could also include him in the prank. That would make more sense.

Jack Torrance:

"Darling ? What are those bags for ?"

Jack saw your bags and immediately understood. He clenched his fists and felt angry…but he then calmed down. He looked at you and sighed before asking.

"Is that…really what you want ?"

If you confirmed, he would let you go. Jack would understand that you want to leave. However, that doesn’t mean Jack wouldn’t try to dissuade you. He would tell you that the others would miss you—and so would he. But he wouldn’t stop you.

Michael Myers:

The moment that man’s eyes would fall on the bags ? You can forget about freedom. He would wrap his arms around you so tight that you would almost be suffocating before carrying you bridal style back to your room and close the door behind him. After you told him it was a prank, he stared at you for a few seconds and you felt his need to murder you at that moment.

Do NOT prank the boogeyman.

Bo:

Bo *sees you*

You *see Bo*

Bo *sees the bags*

You *start running*

Bo *runs after you and tackles you to the ground* : "Where ya goin’, darls’ ? Thought ya could run away from me, huh ? C’mere. I’ll show ya what happens to those who tryna leave my ass behind !"

When you told him it was a prank, Bo stared at you and it took a few minutes for him to calm down. And when he was calm again, he started yelling. Because, WHATCHA MEAN IT WAS A PRANK ?!

Brahms:

Brahms rarely leaves you alone, so he wouldn’t exactly give you the time to plan a prank about leaving. But the moment his eyes would settle on your bags ? Yeah. Not happening. He would stick to you like glue and refuse to let you go. Even after you explained that it was a prank, that boy wouldn’t budge. He has severe abandonment issues.

Pennywise:

"Go on. Leave. I am not gonna stop you, nurse."

Pennywise has seen everyone he ever cared about die or leave him. He has learnt to be impassive and cold when it comes to people leaving him. He wouldn’t stop you. But he would secretly hate seeing you leave. But when you told him it was a prank ?

He was mad. Very mad. He didn’t speak to you for days afterwards. Pennywise likes a good prank, but not about this. He has abandonment issues himself, but they manifest by his desperate attempt to not care.

Jason Voorhees:

He went head first in the fountain of the hospital in his hurry to stop you. He saw you leaving and ran to stop you, only to end up tripping and rolling to fall in the fountain. You—of course—went to help him right away. You forgot all about the prank and checked that he was alright. You helped him out and he immediately hugged him tightly—refusing to let go until you reassured him that you weren’t going anywhere.

Norman Bates:

Norman didn’t say anything. He simply stared at you as you pretended to leave.

But you could feel his eyes on you—daring you.

I DARE you to leave me, Y/N.

When you turned around, you saw that his face was relaxed—but his eyes were still staring at you. He was silently waiting. Waiting for what ? You didn’t know. You were about to step out the door when you felt cold sweat running down your back. Your hand shook as it reached out for the handle. And just as you were about to open the door—his hand enveloped yours. His other hand wrapped itself around your throat as he whispered in your ear:

"…Are you sure that this is what you want, darling ?"

You gulped and felt unable to breathe for a moment—even though he was barely squeezing your throat.

"It…It was a prank, Norman." You finally revealed and Norman smirked. He knew it was a prank. Or else, you wouldn’t have MADE it to the door.

He kissed your temple.

———————————————————————

I did something similar if you are interested?

[hypnos333]

Your Forever

Cha Hyun-su x reader

Synopsis: Hyun-soo didn’t know what home really was until he met her

He admires her as she smiles happily chatting away as she cooks dinner. He wanted to die, he couldn’t help the feeling either. But when he sees her smile all those thoughts go away.

You were always positive and happy even when things went downhill he would always see your comfort. He would wonder if you even get sad. When they first moved in Green Home Mansion Apartment.

She made it look like home if he lived alone he would’ve always eat Ramen and leave the place as it is. You made everything better.

He would remember the little dances you guys would do together in the living room or how you’ll always run your hands through his hair. Most times he’ll force your hand through his hair making you do it automatically.

Later that night before you know it, You were on his lap with his hands gripping your waist as you were making out with him. He needed to be inside you so he unzipped his pants before pulling off all the fabric and clothing off you.

You were already wet so he just slip in making you moan his name. He loved your sweet moans, He groaned as he continues to thrust into you. Until he came into you after you came.

A week went by and you been throwing up without Hyunsu knowledge. You knew you were pregnant so you avoided making meat for a couple of days.

Until everything went to shit when humans started to turn into monsters.

Your pregnant stomach was slightly showing but with Hyunsu clothes it was easy to hide. When you both went to save the kids the steroid monster came making you run off with the kids.

When the monster escaped hyunsu and was about to kill the kids a lady you didn’t recognize appeared.

“Don’t hurt the kids nor this pregnant young lady” A woman said getting in front of her with a stroller. You were shocked on how she knew, “Madam please let’s run” You said scared out of your mind while holding the two whimpering kids.

That was until Hyunsu showed up with two other people, as he carried the young boy and you held the young girl hand making it to the old man room.

He pulled you and you knew where this was going. “___ Your pregnant? Why didn’t you say anything? I could’ve been with you instead of fighting” Hyunsu asked angry and sad about knowing last minute making you tear up.

“I was scared you weren’t want it, and I was gonna tell you until all this went to shit” You mumbled making Hyunsu hugged you tight before he bend down to feel your stomach.

“This is our forever huh?” he said making you hummed in agreement.

“They’re definitely gonna be our forever” you confirmed making hyunsu chuckle for the first time in hours.

“We’re going to get through this, i’ll do anything to keep you and this baby safe” He said promising himself and to you.

“I hope so” You said kissing his lips before putting your foreheads together.

If it was a girl you’ll name her Sunhye and for boy you’ll name him Taehoon. You thought long and hard about these names but you wanted to name them that because Sunhye was her mom middle name and Taehoon was because it was something unique for her.

You both held your stomach hoping this will just end and that the baby would be born in a happy world but they know that’s not possible.

Part 2

[lovebugism]

hi! not sure if you’re still taking requests but if u are may i request the prompt “it’s okay to cry in front of me, you know. you don’t have to carry this alone.” with reader comforting steve? tysm <3

bug's blurb sleepover (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)!

Steve tends to feel things really, really deeply.

When Nancy called him bullshit at a Halloween party and ran off with the weird kid from chemistry class a day later, he felt like it was the end of the world. His world, at least. 

He thought it was going to stick with him for the rest of his life — that she was right, that he really was bullshit, and that that truth would haunt him forever. It did. It does. It lurks over his shoulder sometimes, like a shadow or a sleeping dragon.

And when Robin’s mad at him, like mad mad, it makes him feel like dying. 

One time he overestimated how tired he was after a shift and forgot to pick Robin up after band practice. He was startled awake from his nap out of nowhere, like his brain knew he’d done something wrong, and realized he was supposed to drive her home over an hour ago. 

He found her standing with her trumpet case under the awning in a futile attempt to hide from the pouring rain. She didn’t talk to him for days — not during the drive, not at work the next day, not until he was milliseconds from groveling at her feet for her forgiveness.

But it’s different when he’s happy. He’s got you and he’s got Dustin, and he loves the two of you so much it feels like he might burst sometimes. Adoration spills from his pores like so many little rays of sunshine, leaves him a grinning and gushing thing in the place of a teenage boy. 

It’s so much worse with you, though. Because sometimes he feels like his heart beats only for you — that it follows the rhythm of your pulse, that it will stop when yours does. 

He can taste every word that spills from your mouth, the one’s coated in venom and honey alike. He can hear every sound of your soul, too. It’s the crackles of an old record player when you’re content, autumn leaves crunching when you’re angry, and the sounds of a deep, deep ocean when you’re sad.

You’re embedded into every fiber of his being. You’ve entwined yourself with him without even realizing it, tucked yourself into the outer regions of his bleeding heart with a fuzzy blanket and a good book — no sign of leaving any time soon.

He loves you hard, too hard. So hard there’s no breath without you.

So when Vecna almost kills you, it feels a little like his life is ending.

He watches you float in midair, his feet still stuck on the ground, totally helpless. 

Tears spill from your glazed-over eyes and glitter beneath streams of moonlight. Your body is slack, but your fingers tremble and your brows twitch and your chin quivers. You’re not all there, but you can feel every ounce of fear like an ice-cold bath, painful and numbing all at once. Because you know that you’re going to die. And that there’s nothing anyone else can do to stop it.

Dustin shouts for help into his supercomm, begs for Max to bring her walkman or steal the nearest boombox they see and bring it with them to Lover’s Lake. They’re too far away, though, on the other side of town in Nancy’s too slow Station Wagon picking up more hunting supplies to kill the son of a bitch trying to kill you. He knows they won’t make it in time.

Steve shakes your shoulders and shouts in your face, but you still don’t wake. He keeps a hold of you until you’re out of his reach entirely — rising and rising and rising until you’re six feet off the ground. Then he’s just begging, shouting pleas up at you, at god, at Vecna — the shriveled skin creep doing this to you. 

“Please,” he shouts to everyone and no one all at once. “Please, just— you gotta wake up, okay? I’ll be better, I’ll be so much better, I promise. I’ll listen to all the music you like, watch all the movies you want — even the ones that suck — I’ll be a better boyfriend, okay? You just— You need to wake up!”

You don’t. 

You just keep on crying, like you can hear him in whatever world Vecna’s sucked you into. Eyes fluttering, neck jerking, lips trembling. You succumb completely to the monster’s curse.

It’s Eddie that saves you.

He rushes to the stolen R.V. for his guitar, the one Steve said made him look like he was overcompensating for something, the one that’s about to save your life. “What’s her favorite song?” the boy urges as he slips the strap over his head with pale and trembling fingers.

Steve looks over at his shoulder at him. It’s hard to see through the stinging tears. “Wh— What—” He can’t form words. Or thoughts, really. The only thing going through his head is that you’re about to die, that he’s about to lose you forever. It clouds his mind like thick black smoke.

“Her favorite song?” Eddie snaps. “What is it?”

He scrambles to answer. “Uh, it’s uh— it’s Take— Take On Me… Do you know that one?”

“No,” the boy answers honestly. “But I can try.”

That’s all they can do for now. Try. Hope.

He puts his fingers to the strings, trying to find the right placements, but it’s hard when you don’t know how to play the song and you’re shaking that you’re fucking freezing. Eddie’s forced to play it by ear and tells Steve that it won’t sound exactly right and that it won’t be loud without his amp. 

It takes him a moment to find the melody, but Steve hears it the second it comes — the synth-y da-da-da-dum, da-da-dah, da-da-da-da-dum’s that were practically engrained in his psyche after he heard it on the radio the millionth time.

You weren’t as afflicted by the earworm as he was. You loved it. 

The song came out the year the two of you started dating, so all he heard for months was that catchy beat and even catchier falsetto. You played it on the jukebox when you went to the diner, popped the tape into your radio whenever he was over at your place, requested for it to be played virtually wherever you went.

You hear the song from where you’re stuck in your own head. The strums of the guitar are quiet and a little out of tune, but the uncanny notes make sense when you’re trapped in a world that isn’t really your world. Suddenly you don’t see Vecna or his claw in your face — just Steve, Steve, Steve.

He’s with you at the diner with whipped cream on his chin, making fun of you for singing to the song so off-key. He’s with you in your childhood bedroom, spinning you around and singing all the high notes with you. He’s with you at Enzo’s, the fanciest place in Hawkins for your anniversary, and slips the mini-orchestra a hundred-dollar bill to play the song for you.

Suddenly, you’re on the ground again — back in Hawkins — and gasping for breath in his arms. You can’t see him from where he’s got his face tucked into your neck, but you can feel the scarily rapid beat of his heart and the way it matches your own.

Steve sobs into you, uncaring about how loud he is or how his snot and tears stain your t-shirt. Because he almost fucking lost you. And, for a split second, he tried to think of what a life without you would look like. He quickly came up short. There was nothing — no light, no sound, no music — just darkness. A void. 

Sometimes, he thinks he would’ve died with you that night.

Vecna is dead within the next twenty-four hours after the fact. You and Nancy take turns shooting bullets in the pale patchy skin of his chest where his heart’s supposed to be while Steve and Robin throw hand-made bombs in his direction. He trips and stumbles out the window while the rotting basement erupts into flames. There’s nothing left but ashes.

Steve doesn’t feel a thing for a little while after that, just the acute urge to protect the group of you even though the boogeyman is long gone. 

He doesn’t let go of you for days, always holding onto some part of you, because he’s terrified of you slipping away again. 

He lets Dustin sleep at his place when the boy asks, but it’s for his own peace of mind more than anything else. He doesn’t let the boy out of his sight until his mom gets concerned about him. 

He drives forty-five minutes to the hospital every day for two weeks with you so you can visit Max and Lucas, always with two peanut butter jelly sandwiches for them — just in case.

He’s on auto-pilot for a while. He just keeps on taking care of everyone else because it distracts him from himself — from his own inner turmoil, from the horrors he saw that night, from the boogeyman still in his closet.

It takes you a month for you to tell him what you saw. You were a lot like him in that way, still trying to hide from it all. You would’ve been more than happy if you could squish your great big problem into a tiny little ball that you could stomp underneath your feet and forget about completely. 

But that’s not how life works. 

The thing just swells and swells and swells until it takes everything in you to stay sane.

You sit Steve down on his bed and curl into his lap — knees to your chest, head tucked beneath his chin. And you tell him about it. Everything.

You tell him that Vecna showed you Brad, the boyfriend you had before Steve. It was a replay of the last night you saw him parked at Lover’s Lake, the very same place you had been when Vecna almost took you. You’re sitting in his passenger seat and he’s trying to feel you up. “Billy’s girlfriend lets him fuck her all the time,” he gripes when you swat his hand from your thigh.

“Then maybe go fuck Billy’s girlfriend,” you shoot back. 

It’s the last thing you’d ever said to him before storming off and catching the late bus back home. He went missing the next day; his car still there, but no sign of the boy himself.

Vecna shows you everything you’d been making yourself sick over for years, tells you exactly what happened to him that night.

A demogorgon appears in thin air and snatches the boy, takes him to the Upside Down like he’s some kind of light night snack. The thing doesn’t eat him, though, just plays with its food for a while until it gets bored and lets him rot. Brad was down there, for days, beggingfor someone to save him. Help never came, though. Just the slow, slow hand of death. 

“You never even looked for him…” you recite the words Vecna said to you, voice much softer than his cruel baritone one. “You let him rot down there while you threw yourself at a boy that didn’t even want you…”

Steve eyes squeeze shut then, like he’s trying to hide from your words. It’s about as effective as those idiots in horror movies who try to hide under their bedsheets from demons.

You sought refuge in Steve that night and many others, when Brad was acting especially douchebag-y. It was innocent at first. He was your friend. But somewhere down the line, you realized that you had bigger feelings for him than you ever did for your boyfriend. Steve, meanwhile, was still caught in the web of his complicated feelings for Nancy.

It wasn’t until you got kidnapped by Russian soldiers that he realized how much he loved you.

There’s just something about the end of the world that makes a person see clearly again.

Everything seems to hit him exactly a week later. 

He’d done a pretty good job at hiding it all — the nightmares, the panic attacks, the sleepless nights. He hid that all from you because you were recovering too. He didn’t think it was fair to dump all his hurt on you while you were still trying to get back to normal.

You noticed it very quickly, though, that Steve didn’t seem to be very affected by any of it. 

He was so nonchalant about everything, the kind of casual only a person who was aching could pull off. 

And he’d get real reserved at times, uncharacteristically quiet, and you’d ask him if he was okay. He’d scoffed and say he was fine —of course I’m okay, what do you mean? — while his cheek speckled with red and he blinked back glassy tears. 

You’d try to hug him and he’d let you, but kept shrugging off your concern — I’m fine, babe. I promise. I’m not the one who almost died.

Steve did that a lot. Made it seem like his problems didn’t mean as much because they weren’t as big as yours or Max’s or Eddie’s. He convinced himself that they didn’t. Why should he be upset when he didn’t have to meet the monster face to face or live through something traumatic all over again? What does he have to cry about?

But when he sleeps all he sees in you — in that spot at Lover’s Lake, succumbing to Vecna’s curse, while the rest of them try like hell to bring you back. In his nightmares, they never do. He watches your bones break one by one, piercing cracks in the quiet night that he can feel in his chest, before you fall limply to the ground again.

He wakes with a gasping breath, the same way you had all the time ago. You’re sleeping peacefully beside him, hair wild and face smushed into your pillow, but he can’t seem to get the vision out of his head — of your mangled body and sucked-out sockets. He stumbles off to the bathroom on tired and trembling legs.

You wake to the door slamming shut and stir at the sound of the faucet turning on. 

Light spills from the crack underneath the door, bright in the darkness of your bedroom. You watch Steve’s shadow with bleary eyes, how it stands in one place for a moment and then paces back and forth.

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you tiptoe to the door, but don’t do anything when you reach it. You just wait, listen. 

Steve mumbles something to himself that you can’t quite make out — you’re okay, stop being such a baby, jesus… is all you can hear. He sniffles as his feet pad the length of the tiled bathroom floor. It doesn’t take a genius to know that he’s crying.

Your knock upon the door is a soft one. You don’t want to startle him. The second he realizes you’re outside the door, he freezes.

“Stevie…” you call gently out for him. “Are you okay?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah—” Then again. “Yeah, I’m fine… Go back to bed.”

“Are you sure?” you press. “Do you want me to get anything for you?”

The boy has to take a deep breath in to stop himself from snapping at you. He’s angry at himself more than anything — for hiding, for failing at hiding. He runs two anxious hands through his hair and plants himself along the ceramic edge of the bathtub. 

“I’m sure. Just… Just go back to bed, okay?”

You don’t listen. You just slide along the door frame until you’re sat on the carpeted floor of your bedroom. Steve can hear your shuffling outside.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay. You know that, right?” you ask him through the door.

Steve puts his face in his hands before he can catch his scrunching face in the mirror. Just when he thought he wasn’t going to cry, here you come, pulling this shit. 

“I know,” he answers tightly, muffled through his palms. He rubs them up and down his face once, twice, and then a third time before throwing his hands into his lap. “But I’m fine, okay? Seriously.”

“You can cry in front of me, Steve. It’s okay. You don’t have to— You don’t have to go through this shit alone, you know? I’m here. I’m right here, okay? Let me help you.”

It’s that reminder that does him in; the assurance that you’re here and not a disfigured mess in the tall grass of Lover’s Lake. A sob spills from his mouth too abruptly for him to stop it.

“Steve…” you call for him again, heartbreaking on the other side of the door.

“I’m almost lost you,” he cries, more than himself than to you, then sniffles. “I’m almost fucking lost you.”

“But you didn’t. I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere, Steve Harrington. The universe is gonna have to try a whole lot harder to keep me away from you.”

He manages a laugh through his tears. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking,” you quip. “If Vecna couldn’t stop me from being with you, nothing will.”

The thought of that warms him. He realizes it’s not the universe keeping the two of you together, not fate or some higher power in the clouds. It’s love. It’s all the love the two of you have got for each other, stronger than any demogorgon or Russian soldier or dark wizard. And it’s love that’s gonna hold the two of you together for the next several decades, until you’re old and wrinkly and ugly. 

But Steve won’t think you’re ugly. He’ll think you’re as beautiful as the first moment he saw you — throwing up in the bushes outside Tina’s house after your first high school party.

You rise quickly when the door opens. Steve stands in front of you, eyes puffy and face red and smiling gently down at you anyway. “I love the shit outta you, you know that?” is all he can think to say. Because that’s all that he feels in that moment.

“Of course, I know that,” you grin up at him. Your hands rise to cup his jaw, thumbs swiping at his tear-stained cheeks. Your browns pinch in concern. “You okay?”

For the first time, he’s honest.

“No…” he murmurs with the soft shake of his head. His eyes dart away from yours and to the floor where his and your twenty toes stand, still on the ground, not floating in thin air.

“No— I… I don’t think I am,” he confesses softly. His tired, sad, and heavy honey eyes flit back up to yours again. “But I will be.”

You nod until your words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, you will.”

“If only out of pure spite of all the monsters to all the monsters trying to destroy our lives.”

“They’re gone now,” you promise, like a parent who’s checked under their child’s bed for shadows and ghosts. It works well enough. Here, with his face in your hands and standing in your shared bedroom, he’s never felt safer.

“Can you… Can you hold me?” he wonders, a little meekly because he feels like an idiot saying them. Then he feels even more like an idiot for feeling like an idiot. You’re his girlfriend, after all, cuddles sort of came with the package.

“Of course,” you answer without thinking twice. You grab his hand and tug him back to the bed almost immediately. “I’ll hold you for the rest of our fucking lives, Harrington, you know that.”

The two of you settle into the mattress. Steve uses you like a pillow, wraps all of his limbs around you and tucks his face into your neck. Your scent is a familiar one, warm and comforting, like home. “I like the sound of that,” he mumbles into your shoulder after a moment of quiet.

“Well, buckle in, baby. ‘Cause I got you for the next, like, six decades.”

You feel his smile form against your skin as Steve tucks himself inside your soul.

[writtensweethearts]

Sweet Nothings

Read part two here: Unspoken Confessions Pairing: Eddie munson x GN!reader Enemies to lovers ? word count: +1k CW: mentions of blood, death, lmk if i missed something A/N: this is my first time posting a blurb or a piece in general for the public, please be kind and i hope you enjoy!

“God, I swear if you die on me I’ll kill you.” he chokes out angrily, but it lacks any heat. You grin up at him, watching his chocolate eyes fill with tears. 

You suddenly wonder why you hadn’t seen him. 

The barely there freckles, mud splattered cheeks and wild curly hair, the different shades of brown in his glassy eyes. 

His harsh words a complete opposite of his gentle hold, you watch as his fingers push against the angry open wounds of your stomach, trying to keep the blood at bay. The crazed look of his eyes as he darts his head around, waiting for Henderson, another bat, anything. 

“Calm down pretty boy, least you can do is say some sweet nothings to a dying girl.” 

You watch in slight awe as his eyes find yours, tears finally spilling from his lash line, wondering if maybe this time you’ve pushed him too far.

“Don’t say that shit,” he hisses, “you’re not dying. Not on my watch sweetheart.”

You smile at that, the nickname lacking it’s usual mocking tone. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep Munson. You know better than that.”

If he responded you can’t recall, eyes drooping, sleep evading you, the noise of the Upside Down drowning out.

You rouse from the gentle shake of your head, Eddie’s ringed fingers grasping your chin

“Come on, you’ve got to keep your eyes open.” Voice pleading.

“What do I get in return?” He scoffed at that but it comes out more like a breathy sigh of relief, taking your snarky response as a sign of hope. He realizes his response comes a second too late.

You stare at him, eyes a bit dazed and mouth pulled taut, a strange air lingers filling the empty space from a missed witty remark. He can’t help what he says next.

“Don’t ever do that again.” Now you’re the stunned one.

“What?” “I don’t need you saving me princess, look at where that got you.”

You frowned at that. Shit, Eddie thinks he’s struck a nerve. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say, even if you were the girl he’s bickered with for over a year now, constantly exchanging snippy remarks. Maybe he would’ve been able to give you those sweet nothings you’d asked for earlier, had he felt confident enough to say them. But the humid air of the Upside down and the feel of your sticky, warm blood coating his hands has made him angry. Angry at Hawkins for dragging him into shit like this, angry at the Upside Down for existing and upturning his life, angry at himself for allowing you to be at the center of it all. 

It should’ve been him. He’d jumped off the boat, diving into a world unknown, fighting away demonic bats, and risking his life for the good of the world. He’d been ready to let it all go, but you’d come in, chest heaving, Steve’s bat swinging. The two of you on the same team, for once. And it wasn’t until the last bat was down, when he’d turn around yelling and celebrating victory, that he’d noticed. You were holding your stomach, arm dropping the bat you’d held so tightly seconds before. He watched, dumbfounded as you lightly pulled your shirt, revealing large, gaping gashes all across your abdomen. Eddie would never forget the haunted look in your eyes as you dragged your gaze up to his, your body wobbling as you forced yourself to stand still, as if you didn’t want him to see you weak. 

In that moment the world was a blur, he’d called your name hoarsley, afraid, afraid you’d respond with a small pain-filled voice rather the boisterous, mocking tone you used whenever you spoke to him. Afraid to see you, larger than life you, growing weaker and smaller and so unfamiliar.

And yet here you were, his knees digging into your back as he tried to hold your limp body up, looking at him with the same fire in your eyes. This, this is what he’d been wishing for, hadn’t he? But there was something unusual about your gaze, if he hadn’t known any better he’d have said you were hurt by his words.

You blinked, head turning to the side and Eddie cursed. He didn’t know how to act with you, behind all the mean words and heated arguments, he wasn’t sure how to move forward. So here you were, blood soaking through your clothes, onto his, and he was spewing ungrateful words to the girl who’s losing her life from saving his. A girl he’s never been able to properly behave around, a girl who, behind her back, he’d watched fondly with honey coated eyes. 

“I.. I’m sorry.” He mumbled out, your eyes snapping back to his, “God I’m so so sorry.”

His voice wobbling as reality began to settle in, “It should’ve been me. It should’ve. I’m repeating senior year and not for the first time, I’m being hunted for murder, and you. You’ve got such a big life to live, a great one, and I just-” His rambling comes to an end as you’re fingers gingerly swipe a stray curl behind his ears.

“Hey.” You smile up at him, and God, if it didn’t make Eddie’s heart want to burst at the sight of it. “It’s okay.” You watch him, his eyes doubtful, his hands never leaving you as he keeps pressure on your wounds, “I mean come on, I had to, you’ve got to get back and show them you can make it through highschool. Thought you said this was ‘your year.’” 

He laughs but it’s all watery and choked, and it makes your chest hurt in an unfamiliar way. It’s getting harder and harder to fight the sleep taking over, the lofty sound of Eddie’s voice whispering the sweet nothings you’d playfully asked for, dreams of a better life, swearing on his heart that he’ll get you out of this hell hole, safe, alive. You send him a sleepy smile, knowing he’s making more promises he can’t keep, but his eyes are shining with tears so you return the gesture and whisper another, “It’s okay, Eds.” before you let his voice lull you to bed.

[abilouwrites]

BEAR CLAWS

Zuko bcz we’re actually married 😻😻

Also I love this song it’s by The academic and it’s so good

I will show him the worst parts of myself; my aggressions and bear claws I have worked so hard to build. I will be ugly in front of him; I will be mean and rude because how could I fall for someone as callous as he. Someone who would’ve burned and killed to find some 12 year old boy.

I don’t understand how Aang and Sokka found it so easy to forgive, maybe I can forgive but I could never forget. How could I forget when he had me against a tree, “tell me why I shouldn’t kill you” he spoke

“Because you’re too weak to do it” I retorted; too brave for my own skin. He was cocky but I was bold. A fuel to his flame; but as much as I was confident I was still this scared little girl. Terrified of the unknown.

I’ve changed, grown into my own skin. Cut my hair short but I’ve never forgotten. I shut down when he arrives, I quiet and still. As many times as he’s sat next to me I stay still, hands in my lap unmoving and quiet. Fighting the fire that claws at my stomach and the butterflies that thrash.

It’s not until late night when he asks, “why do you still hate me! How are we supposed to take down Firelord Ozai if we can’t get along” he questions me. His hands are clenched at his sides yet he doesn’t look angry. More sad than anything.

“We can get along. This.” I stomp my foot and gesture to the tents, “this is me getting along with you Zuko” I snap. I want to stall closer to him; jab him in the chest and scream at him, tell him how I really feel. How I hate being ugly and mean to him, “do you really want to know why I hate you?”

“Yes” he whispers, there’s no reasoning why he wants my explanation. He just wants it.

“Because after everything you’ve put me through, I still like you. And I like you more than I want too” I explain, “I’ve never liked someone as much as I like you Zuko. And it terrifies me. Everything about loving you scares me” I whisper shout; tears boiling in my eyes, tears begging to be let go. I take a breath again trying to shove my feelings deep into my gut but they won’t move. From the lump in my throat to the fire burning in my stomach, “I thought I was ok with the unknown; but I’m not. I’m not ok because the thought of not knowing— not being with you terrifies me more than anything ever could” when I finally finish he just stares at me. Blinking as he rubs his hands together, “there.” I exhale, “that is why I’ve shut you out. Because I feel so much for you I don’t ever want to not feel this way again”

“I have lost everyone I’ve ever loved” he says; his voice so slow and quiet I can barely hear it against the wind, “and I am terrified of losing you. But you” he sighs against the wind and throws his head back in a show of frustration before he walks up to me. No matter how many claws and walls I throw at him; they come down just as easily, “you” he says my name so sweetly and the way it rolls off his tongue makes me weak in the knees, “are irresistible”

We’re inches apart before the gap closes, he kisses me with a passion no one has ever touched me with. His hand cupping my cheek and the other one on the small of my back deepening the kiss. My hands glide into his hair and the fire in my stomach ignites. Shoving itself into my heart where I’m scared it might never die. Maybe I’ll be ok with lowered walls; maybe I’ll retract my bear claws.

[towards-toramunda]

Thinking about more iconic lines from the show over the years instead of going to bed and created a list that is far too long:

- What’s my mother’s name?

- My best. Finally.

- I have so many flowers to bring to her.

- You were not born with venom in your veins. You learned it. You learned it.

- Don’t get on my ass about it! All I heard is that its pretty easy to do here thats all I took from what you said. (Bonus: its for the god of arts and crafts)

- At dawn, we plan.

- Doo doot doo doo doot doooo donuts!

- What matters more, the dream or the dreamer?

- Sleep well with your bad decisions.

- Nothing happens for a reason. It’s absolute fucking chaos.

- Patience is fine, but it can curdle into apathy.

- I’ve met the devil, thats not him.

- You never take copper. That's just kicking someone while they're down. You take silver if they're an asshole, and you take gold regardless.

- Time is one of my specialties.

- It’s entirely off-putting how disarmingly charming you are.

- How lucky I am to have had all of you. How lucky indeed.

- I smell like a crayon.

- I could tell by the bone structure and the contempt.

- I think I can punch ghosts now.

- Big moon, little moon.

- Pop, pop!

- I need chaos. I have faith in chaos.

- Molly said not to steal from happy people.

- I am going to tell you the story of how I murdered my mother and father.

- Smiley day to ya!

- I killed my family, I’ll throw you under a bridge.

- We’re on the moon bitch.

- She throws it. I shoot it. It explodes! NO STRUCTURAL DAMAGE! (FLUFFERNUTTER)

- I am all for faith, and I'm not going to pick a god. They can pick me. It'll be the first one that actually praises me and then maybe I'll fucking answer. I'll wait. They can fucking beg. And I will listen, which is more than they ever fucking did.

- I would like to RAGE!

- The worst thing that has happened to me has already happened.

- We're running; it's bad.

- You can reply to this message.

- Dagger, dagger, dagger.

- Opinions are like opera. Sure, you can listen to them, but why would you, really?

- There is no god that strides this world that I worship more than I worship your heart.

- I would like to live long enough to be someone else.

- Help, its again.

- Whoever it was, just put it back. I think they've earned it. Put it back.

- I’m fun scary.

- Sorry, babe. Gotta handle these ninjas.

- I’m the cleric? I’ve never traveled with a bunch of people I thought would die in front of me.

- He thinks I’m gonna go into the water for some fucking buttons.

- You are, at the moment, the luckiest person in Whitestone. Do you know why? Because you’re at the bottom of my list.

- You need me more than I need you.

- I protect him. He’s my boy. And I keep him safe.

- I made the earth remember him.

- Come correct or get corrected.

- Do not go far from me.

- Are you worth saving?

- How do I want to do this?

- Heaven to some, and hell to others.

- Fix him!

- Why do we tell stories?

- Do you spice?

- Listen you fucking jungle! I'm a paladin of the Wildmother. You're going to move or we're going to bust you wide open! We'll wreck this place. Don't make me fucking tell you twice!

- I am your god, long may I rein, eat of my fruits.

- Anybody can make lights. Anybody could send a message through a wire. I want to bend reality to my will.

- Would you like to talk before or after?

- What the fuck is up with that?

- To reach a hand down to somebody, they need to be beneath you! And I'm beneath nobody.

- The one eyed monster slayed my pussy.

- Time is a weird soup.

- I’m killing someone. Hold, please.

- Gold is a resource by which mortaldom climbs.

- Why are you so mean to me?

- Yours is the face I saw when murder entered my heart.

- This one time I saw a bug carrying a piece of bread that was like five times its size and he was carrying upstairs, like up and then he would turn, and then up, and then he would turn.

- I live as long as Whitestone lives.

- Vox Machina! Fuck shit up!

- I’m not disappointed, I’m just angry.

- Someone prayed for a miracle and there you were.

- We don't leave people behind. That's just the rule. You do not leave people the fuck behind.

- Call me child one more goddamned time!

- Finish it, Champion.

- I am of the Empire. But I am no friend to the Empire.

- I think it has been a long time since anyone has pointed out to you that you're a fool. Pain doesn't make people, it's love that makes people. The pain is inconsequential. It's love that saves them. And you would know that but you have none around you. You said so yourself, you surround yourself with lies and deceptions. And I wish for you, in the future, to find someone to mourn you when you are gone.

[libertyybellls]

silver soul !

pairing; finnick odair x fem reader

summary; you’ve been reaped for the 68th annual games,as you say your goodbyes you realize the ocean is not the only thing you are leaving behind.

contains ; ANGST, sadness, unconfessed loves.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you’re sitting atop the smoothest rock nearing the shoreline, too close to be dry but too far to be soaked. the air is cool despite the season. something somber lays in the air- as if nature can read the silence between you and finnick.

oh, finnick.

you wait for him to speak, for him to say goodbye and let you go. let you move onto your impending doom. but he doesn’t speak- he doesn’t even move. no noise is emitting from him, you’re not even sure you can hear his breathing- the typically obnoxious huffs and puffs he exudes are gone and he remains next to you in these final moments on district 4- refusing to speak.

he’d prayed to any god that would listen for the 68th hunger games to have mercy on you. he wouldn’t give just an arm and a leg for your safety. he would give anything that belonged to him to ensure that you’d return home, back to him, back to whatever you two were in.

he could’ve crumpled to the floor when he’d heard your name called, when nobody had volunteered. why you? why not anyone else? anyone but her.

“i’ll be okay.”

you couldn’t promise that, you knew it was a lie, you’re only 16, you have nothing to depend on getting you through the games.

“i’ll be your mentor. i’ll find you sponsors. let me help you.” finnick pleads, his eyes lowly looking into yours.

it is only then you want to break into pieces in his arms. you want to sob. you want to retreat back to your family, back to his safe presence. he looks so pure with the sparkle of grace in his eye, deeply at variance to the picture that’s been painted to the capitol. his altruistic belief in you when even now, you are certain you won’t make it far in these games, gives you a rush.

you don’t respond to his desperate offers. you only look down to your lap- at your dress playing with the simple garment. you laugh breathily, “what are the odds.”

‘not in my favor’ he selfishly thinks. he may still have a life whether you win or lose this game- but will he be alive? will he have his anchor?

he shames the world, shames the capitol, shames all of the people who sat back and let you walk onto that stage, shames the game makers who would ever let you step foot in that arena. he needs you to be okay. this world is cruel, cruel to do this to his girl.

“please trust me, i will get you out of these games. you will be a victor and we can live in peace, y/n.”

he sins. he lies. he deceives. straight through his teeth. no matter the outcome you will never live in peace once your out of this. you will never be the same girl.

you think back to his own games. though he has yet to directly say his nightly terrors, his daily horrors, the acts he’s committed that he will never say as he looks into your loving eyes. the capitol has not had lenience on this boy, only a boy, but with troubles of a man.

there is no outcome of this predicament that either of you favor. no scenario in which the world grants you the rest you deserve. you want to scream, cry, pour your heart into him. let him fully consume every fiber that holds you together, all the words you’ve never yet said to him lay heavy on your heart. now it is your turn to stay silent, to lose all oxygen in your lungs, let the blood leave your face. but your voice fails you, “i trust you finnick.”

i trust that i am safe with you. i trust that you won’t let me die. i trust that i will make it back to you. i trust you.

he pulls you into him, his cheeks are wet, there’s a lump in his throat but he does not speak. he simply holds your head onto his chest- his fingers lock into yours as if that’s where they were made to lay.

your words continue to lie dormant in the back of your shared minds- but you let the angry waves speak for you. the greying sky share your sadness, the cold drops of water that reach your legs will bring you back to life- rejuvenate your soul ties. this is the peace you’ve been granted- this is all that is fair in your life.

only in this moment will he have you as you are now, in his arms, still so fragile but he holds you intact.

[metalomagnetic]

Any chance you can share an excerpt of the Harry/Sirius fic you have planned? 🥺

“That’s teenage years for you, kid; you’re always angry.”

Harry frowns. “You think that’s all there is to it?”

“Sure. I was that way, too.”

“Was?” Harry asks, and he’s finally smiling. A tiny thing, frail, but it’s a smile. “Seems like you’re still going through your teenage years, then.”

“Cheeky bastard.” Sirius swats him over the head, playfully.

The frail smile turns into a grin. There’s a mischievous side to Harry, buried deep under the trauma, the burden of being the Boy Who Lived.

Harry reaches for the bottle again. “Gross,” he shudders, making a face after he swallows. “Does it get better? The taste?”

“Eventually,” Sirius says, opening a second bottle, now that he relinquished the first to Harry. “You get used to it.”

He got Regulus drunk in this very room some twenty years before.

His mother sighs in his head. She sounds resigned.

“How about those?” Harry nods at the pack of cigarettes Mundungus snuggled in for Sirius. “Will you teach me?”

“Not much to teach,” Sirius says, giving Harry a fag, taking one for himself.

He lights them with his wand and tells Harry to breathe the smoke in.

Predictably, he chokes.

“Being a bad boy isn’t easy, Harry,” Sirius mocks.

“It’s disgusting,” Harry wheezes, still choking, but when he calms he tries again, to the same result.

By the time he finishes, Harry grows even paler, says he’s a bit dizzy.

How innocent he is; how young. Sirius remembers the first time he smoked, that dizziness Harry speaks of.

He was thirteen, and life was good, even if it didn’t feel like it. Now he wishes he could go back to those times.

Would you abandon us again? If you could go back, would you still betray us? the voices demand.

“I’ll teach you to ride a bike,” Sirius promises. “Next summer. I’ll buy one. Miss riding, anyway.”

“Drinking, smoking, riding bikes, moping around in corners, being angry- what else is on the requirement list for being a bad boy?”

“I don’t mope around,” Sirius argues. “And never in corners. I brood in full view of everyone.”

Harry laughs. It might be the whiskey, but there’s some colour returning to his face. He almost looks alive.

He’ll die, eventually. Everyone around you dies, brother.

Regulus was always a spoilsport.

“Alright, alright. Brooding, then. What else?”

“Fucking,” Sirius says, just to embarrass him, and it works like a charm. Harry goes red, instantly. “Can’t be a bad boy if you don’t fuck around.”

Harry looks away. He runs his fingers through his hair again, making it stick out more than usual. It still doesn’t remind him of James.

When James did it, there was intention behind it. He liked his hair like that, and he knew some girls liked it, too.

When Harry does it, there’s nothing intentional about it. It screams of insecurity, something that wasn’t in James’ vocabulary.

“Well,” Harry says, so red he’s turning purple. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that, too.”

A warning rings in Sirius’ head.

Don’t poke at it, his mother advises him. Leave it be, Sirius.

Sirius never listened to her, so he won’t start now.

“You know girls that won’t mind your godfather joining you for a bit of fun?” Sirius teases. “Why, Harry, you’re already running with a bad crowd in that case.” Harry snorts, gulps more whiskey. “I barely know any girls at all,” he mumbles. “But I’m sure no girl would say no to you; it’s more likely they’ll protest to me, really.”

“First lesson,” Sirius says. “No self-depreciating jokes. No poor-me attitude. No one finds that attractive.”

“Well, that’s who I am,” Harry snaps, that temper of his rearing its head for a second.

“Even so, you hide that shit if you want to pull birds. Pretend you’re confident, even when you aren’t.”

“That’s wrong, though. Misleading someone, lying-”

“Bad boys lie all the time.”

Harry huffs. He slumps back into the couch. “Forget it. I can’t be a bad boy.”

“It’s not for everyone,” Sirius agrees. “Plus, if you want to be really bad, you’d need to do some prison time. Not worth it, I assure you.”

“Being locked up in a cupboard doesn’t count?” Harry asks. “Did about ten years of that.”