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Crowley’s idea to get humans to fall in love (get em stuck in the rain and gazing into each others eyes) was NOT the first foreshadow to an AziraCrow kiss in the rain in season 3
we have literally had this “rain” romance thing since episode ONE season ONE.
#THEY ARE LOVERS IN THE RAIN#good omens#good omens 2#aziraphale#crowley#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#good omens rain#pls it’s then#good omens season 3#next time they’ll be smooching#i swear
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COOK OUT - c. sturniolo
chris x black !fem reader
in which chris is invited to the reader’s yearly family cook out
warnings: none, just fluff
-
“okay, how do i look?” your focus shifted from your phone, to your boyfriend standing in front of you. he did a little spin to show off his outfit which made you laugh.
“babe you look fine, i told you this like five times now.” you sighed before getting up from the couch, while adjusting your dress.
“i know…i just,” chris sighed before continuing. “i just want everyone to like me.”
you frowned as you saw how anxious your boyfriend seemed. you cupped his face with both of your hands before smushing them together, eliciting a smile from the brunette.
“they’ll love you babe, now lets go.”
-
as you chris drew nearer to the entrance to the backyard, the music got louder, and chris’ nerves seemed to increase as well.
you took his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers. “we can always go home, i’ll say you’re sick or something.” you say worried your boyfriend will be uncomfortable but chris quickly shook his head to the idea.
“no baby, i want to meet everyone, and i want to see you around the people that make you happy.” you softly smiled, before leaning up to give chris a big ol smooch on the cheek. he knew how family oriented you could be, and how these barbecues were a chance to bring everyone you loved together.
you two made your way through the gate of your parents house. you began to introduce chris to a lot of your aunties and uncles that were scattered across the lawn. each of them were dying to see the boy you brought back home.
after all the introductions, you made your way inside to the kitchen, where your parents were cooking up some more delicious food.
chris had already met your parents, from various holidays and vacations, so to say the least they were more than comfortable with each other.
“my y/n, chris!” your mom exclaimed as she put a spoon down before making her way to the both of you. giving you both hugs and a few pecks on your faces.
your dad was next to greet you two as he embraced you both in a tight hug. “oh, chris, come help me flip these burgers while you’re here!” your dad said while passing chris a spatula and some paper plates.
you roll your eyes playfully. “dad, we just got here!” you laugh as your dad began to lead chris out the kitchen.
your dad simply shoo’d you off before reassuring you. “oh he’ll be fine, cmon boy.”
you gave chris an apologetic smile and he could only laugh before giving you a kiss goodbye. he followed your dad outback to help him prepare more food to serve to the guests. truthfully, he loved this. he felt like this was the best way to bond with everyone around him.
you could already see from the kitchen window the amount of uncles surrounding him at the grill. probably asking him a bunch of questions, and popping a few jokes here and there.
you also made your way outback but instead, you went to go rest at the lounge chairs where your cousins were hanging out.
you all caught up and a few of them even asked about chris here and there. complimenting him and his burger making skills which you were amused to hear.
after a while, you excused yourself to get a burger for yourself to eat. you made your way over to chris with a paper plate in hand. chris seemed to be having a conversation with one of your guy cousins but he excused himself when he saw you making your way towards him.
“you okay, baby?” he asks while adding more stuff to the grill.
“yeah, i just wanted to try a burger ‘cus everyone is talking about them.” you say while smiling and holding your plate out.
“like good talk, or bad talk?” chris asks playfully while placing a burger on your plate, before grabbing two buns to assemble your burger with.
“if it was bad talk you wouldn’t even be here anymore.” you laugh while taking back your plate.
“well i’ll be done in a few, i’ll come join you over there okay?” you nodded before turning around to make your way back to your seat.
-
about 2 hours went by with you and chris at the party. your dad finally let the poor boy go from the grill and you could finally spend sometime with each other.
chris was amazing from talking to the elderly, to even bonding with the little kids. even the grumpy teenagers were intrigued by him.
you yawned as you rose from your seat. “well, i think its time for us to go guys.” your little cousins groaned at this, not ready to say goodbye to their newfound best friend, chris.
after they bid their goodbyes, you two made way to say goodbye to everyone else. you got a lot of aunties telling you that you made a good choice with chris and hopefully he’s here to say to which you respond with a chuckle and a ‘definitely.” while chris got a lot of uncles dapping him up and bringing him into a hug as well.
your parents walked you two to your car and gave you both a goodbye hug.
“he’s coming next year right?” your dad asks almost immediately the hug ended. you and chris could only laugh and nod.
your parents waved goodbye as they watched your car drive off.
you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling in the passenger seat (yes chris can drive in this), which chris notices.
he takes one hand off the steering wheel and rests it on your thigh. you looked at him as you held his hand in yours. chris could feel your eyes lingering for a second more than usual.
“what?” he questions, not being able to hide the smile that was tugging at his lips.
“oh nothing..i just really love you.”
-
A/N: no foolish update todayyy sorry, possibly tmr tho! this was inspired by their one video where chris was flipping burgers. super cute 🫶🏽
tags:
@junnniiieee07 @tillies33ssss @whore4matt @stellarsturns @summerl986 @inveigledvex @beccaluvschris @stingerayyy2 @bunnysturns @braindead4l @vickyzloserz @sturnzsblog
#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo headcanon#chris sturniolo x black reader#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo x you#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader
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[viii.] ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘᵗᶜʰᵉʳᵉᵈ
serial killer!jade leech x female!reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, kidnapping/captivity, descriptions of murder/death, violence, strangulation chapter vii│chapter viii (you are here)│chapter ix
Today’s Thought - As biology would have it, the moray eel is cowardly by nature. Somehow this facet doesn’t apply to a certain someone. What he lacks in cowardice, he makes up for in cruelty.
The three days that follow the first feel like a blurred eternity, and you only know it’s been three because Jade’s explained your daily horoscope thrice now. The first: Do your best and your days will be fortuitous. You’re walking the path to success. The second: You may feel gloomy with the shifting skies. Rainfall may evoke sadness, but the secrets you hide from that important someone will seem even sadder. And the third (today’s prediction): There’s a chance you might find luck in uncertain situations.
These horoscopes might have provided you with a shred of relief if it weren’t for the fact that your slumber has been mostly dreamless ever since that last obscure nightmare, and so you don’t have anything to compare them to. No jellyfish. No strangers sitting at dinner tables. No blue hues for you to contemplate.
You’ve read through A Hiker’s Guide twice in the span of forty-eight hours, committing fungi facts to memory as if they’ll serve any purpose while you remain shackled in captivity. But it keeps you occupied and smothers any morbid thoughts threatening to spill into your skull. Which is what you really need right now—the sweet sense of comfort and contentment.
Jade upheld his end of your bargain yesterday when he poked his head inside the bathroom, presenting the white suit coat Azul had worn the night he faux-proposed. You kept your complaints to yourself, silently scorning him while he draped it across your shoulders. It’s an expensive brand sewn from luxurious fabrics you’d never be able to afford no matter how many extra shifts you pick up at The Devil’s Delight.
Out of habit, you’re attempting to calculate how many times you’d need to sleep with Azul in hopes of convincing him to buy you an outfit of equal grandeur. Your logic tells you multiple times for every pretty button and precise stitch, but your heart tells you it would only take a simple question and a sincere smooch to string him along. He opens his wallet for you as easily as you open your legs for him.
But that’s just part of the agreement, you remind yourself, petting the silky sleeve like it’s a cat. Stop thinking about him. Focus on other things.
You lift your gaze towards the door.
I wonder what Riddle’s up to. We were supposed to meet up on Saturday. He’s probably angry I couldn’t make it. Or maybe he’s worried I’m not showing up to work. Shaking your head, you scoff bitterly. No, he’s not worried. He’s Riddle. He never worries about distractions like me. He has everything laid out so perfectly. You toy with one of the exquisite cuffs on the jacket, twisting it between your fingers. I guess when you’re that meticulous you never have to worry about anything because, no matter what happens, you’re following a familiar schedule. So even if things don’t go to plan, you can just move to the next item on your list.
You slouch against the wall and sigh.
Maybe it’s better to live repetitive days. It’s boring, but it’s safe.
Before you can start weighing the positives and negatives to that thought, a noise from below resounds. You scramble away from the sink, mindful of your bandaged ankle, and force yourself flat like a pancake, your ear pressed against the tiles. The air is still, your breath is hitched, and then there are footsteps. Four in total. You assume he’s taking off his shoes because there’s a disconcerting quiet that follows. Seconds later, you strain to hear the door as it shuts and locks with a click.
And then there is more silence.
Something’s not right, you think, chewing your lip. Anxiety bubbles in your blood, volcanically volatile. He’s not coming upstairs.
You push yourself up onto your arms and retreat to the space between the bathtub and sink.
He always comes upstairs to check on me when he gets home. Right away. So why isn’t he? What’s going on? You shake your head and dig your nails into your arms. Don’t panic. Maybe he’s preparing another meal? But he usually eats before work. At least, that’s what he’s done with me ever since the first day. Maybe he didn’t have work. Maybe he went out to do something. But what? Cover his tracks? Kill someone? Make sure there are no witnesses from that night? Kill someone? Your grip on Azul’s jacket tightens. Relax. Take a breath and think about it logically. He can’t do anything rash. Not when he’s just kidnapped me. Someone must have made a missing report by now, so he has to be careful.
Your eyes slide about the room, inspecting the framed sketches once more. What if it’s the afternoon? He could make up any time he wants and I’d have no choice but to believe him. He could’ve gone out for lunch, or he met up with Azul for the daily walks we usually do. Right. Azul. He has to know something’s up. He has to… Wait.
The realization is glacial, stabbing through your skull mercilessly: He won’t suspect anything because disappearing like this is a routine he’s all too familiar with. In his eyes, I’m just—
Footsteps on the stairs shake you from your theorizing, and you brace yourself for the sight of him. You hope to shrink yourself to a size so small and imperceivable that no one, not even the most keen, cutthroat killer, could find you. You succeed in huddling in on yourself, a ball of tightened nerves just waiting to unfurl at the slightest hint of danger. Sweat beads on your brow and slithers down your spine. The hair on your body stands on end, as if expecting the swift strike of a terrifying tragedy.
Something’s not right.
The knob turns. There he stands in the sliver of space between door and bedroom, backdropped by dim lamplight. He’s dressed plainly in a black hoodie and sweatpants of the same color. It’s arguably the most casual you’ve ever seen him look. And in his arms, held bridal style and slumped like a boneless fish, is a woman.
Your gaze is drawn to the way her shirt stretches tautly over her abdomen—over the rounded dome that is her stomach—and dread crystallizes your blood. Suppressing a shiver, you meet his stare. A smile slowly crawls onto his lips, and then he steps deeper into the bathroom, pulling the shower curtain aside and lowering the woman into the tub. Tape is plastered to her mouth, and her wrists and legs are bound with expert knots. Just looking at her and the state she’s in makes you sick with discomfort.
“Who… W-Who the hell is that?”
“A roommate,” he replies, all too smooth. “It’s only temporary, so you needn’t get so territorial.”
There’s no way. He’s actually planning to…
Bile rises in your throat, and before you can stop yourself you’re leaning over the toilet to retch. Saliva dribbles down your chin, landing in the bowl below in a downpour of gross, acidic rain. A petrifying tremor shudders through your body, and you steady yourself against the toilet, coughing until tears gather in your vision and your throat aches. You smack your hand against the handle to flush the physical manifestations of your horror away. Down it goes, never to be seen again.
“Your little parasite doesn’t seem very fond of her,” Jade remarks, standing over you like a patient reaper of death. “There can only be room for one, no?”
You crane your neck to peer at him. “F-Fuck you.”
He smiles thinly, his eyes creasing with manufactured mirth. “It’s just a coincidence.”
“Coincidence, my ass.” With a dark scowl, you wipe the spit from your mouth with a shaky hand. You drag yourself away from the toilet, tasting residual vomit on your tongue. “You can’t hurt her. She… She’s pregnant, Jade. There’s no way you can—”
“She isn’t you. If I recall, I only agreed to keep you alive.” Jade slips his gloves off, drapes them in the basin, and then lathers his hands with soap. His movements are mechanically meticulous, as if these motions have been preprogrammed. Even the way he dries his hands is unnatural. Too prim. Too perfect. “As far as I’m concerned, she’s nothing like you.”
“Why? Because she didn’t kick your ass when you showed up to kidnap her?”
Jade exhales an amused breath. “Of course not.” His eyes frost over when he turns his stare on you. “She never got the chance. Besides, if my ass had been sufficiently kicked, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
“I hope you choke on a fingerbone.”
“That would be most unfortunate. I’ll be sure to eat carefully.”
Peering at himself in the mirror, he smooths his hair down. You didn’t realize it was tousled to begin with. Now that you’re looking, his entire person seems…messy. Even that stray strand falls on the wrong side.
He definitely didn’t go to work, you conclude, studying his features from behind. He’s too casual. It’s hard to imagine Jade in anything other than uniforms. Did he go out with that lady? Maybe not. He seems like the type to dress nicely for dates. So a sweatshirt and sweatpants… They’re both easy to move around in, and he’s wearing dark colors to blend into the night. Did he grab her when she was least expecting it? He said she wasn’t given a chance to fight back, so a struggle was nonexistent.
You shake your head, unsatisfied with your deduction. I’m missing something. His appearance is messy, but he’s always so clean. So why is he messy? This isn’t making sense.
“How’d you find her? You must’ve planned this in advance.”
“I assure you I’m not seeing other women behind your back.”
“Like hell I’m jealous, you creep.”
He chuckles and leans against the sink, his arms folding easily. “A magician never reveals his secrets.” “Magicians and murderers are two different things.”
“Aren’t they skilled in making things vanish? Both captivate their respective audiences as well.”
“Do you not see how vastly different the two are?” Groaning, you rest your head against the wall. “Did you seduce her?”
“Someone’s curious.”
“What’s her name? Do you even know where she’s from or what she’s been through? You’re taking an entire life away, Jade.”
“Two, actually.”
“That’s even worse! Do you hear yourself right now? You’re insane!”
“Has it ever occurred to you that your morals might not have any influence on what I do?”
He’s doing this on purpose. He could’ve brought anyone home, but it just had to be a pregnant lady.
“You’re sick.”
“Do you truly think so?”
“No sane, healthy person would do this.”
Jade feigns a sad pout and wipes nonexistent tears from his eyes. “To hear you say such things… My heart breaks.”
I hope someone chops you up, you lunatic! Then you can know what it’s like!
“So what’s the plan? She’s stuck here like me?”
“Not for long.”
“You’re really going to kill her?”
“Is that not obvious?”
You glance at the tub. I have to do something. But what? You look around the bathroom, eyeing the frames, the sink, the toilet, the walk-in shower, the tiled floor… Can I kill him? Shatter one of the pictures, grab the biggest shard of glass, and then—
Jade bends down to your height. “You needn’t look so pensive. There’s nothing you can do, and if you try anything I’ll be sure to slaughter you in the most gruesome way at the end of these nine months.” He smiles like it’s not the most sinister threat. “And I’ll watch you bleed out slowly while I cut your skin away in delicate slivers. So if you value a quick, painless death, do yourself a favor and keep your hands to yourself.”
You drag your legs into your chest. You sick freak. His eyes crawl down your face to observe your bandaged ankle. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
“That should be enough of a reminder.”
“I’m not stupid. I’m not going to do anything. I can’t.”
I want to, though. I have to.
But there’s the shackle and the chain, restricting your movement and trapping you in the bathroom. There’s also the very heartless serial killer, who values your life as much as one does a meal. Voraciously. That’s as far as his sympathy extends. He doesn’t care about you or your nonexistent baby. You’re not even a person.
To him, you’re just supermarket meat plucked from the street. The most dangerous game he’s ever hunted.
“Good to know.” Pleased with your submission, he rises to his usual height and makes for the door. “Does it hurt?”
“A little.”
“Allow me to retrieve some painkillers.”
“If it puts me to sleep—”
“Rest assured. I have no intention of doing that. Too much and you may never wake again. That, and I’d prefer a meal without unnecessary baggage.”
“Then don’t drug me if you want fresh, healthy meat.”
He says nothing, merely smiling in reply, and departs through his bedroom. You listen to his retreating steps and then, after determining he’s made it downstairs, you drag yourself over to the tub. You yank the tarp-turned-curtain aside and peer down at her.
“Excuse me?” You reach in to nudge her arm. “Miss, are you awake? Please wake up.”
She doesn’t stir. Your gaze sweeps over her face. She doesn’t look bruised or battered. In fact, she’s in much nicer shape than you were when Jade took you.
It couldn’t have been a date or any sort of formal event. Not by chance either… So what is it? What am I not seeing?
You stare at her bump and frown. I’m pretending to be in her position, but she’s actually pregnant. If anyone deserves to get out of this alive, it’s her and her baby.
You shake that thought out of your head next, replacing it with something detached. You have to be logical. In tragic situations, it’s everyone for themself. What if your roles were swapped? Would she feel the same? You’d hope so, but maybe she’d be just like you—someone who’d do anything to survive, even if that was at the cost of another’s sacrifice. It’s not fair, but there’s nothing you can do. She’s doomed.
“Fuck,” you mutter, curling your fingers around the lip of the tub.
I can’t watch an innocent woman die. I have to do something.
Footsteps draw near. You scramble to your corner. Jade returns with two tablets and a glass of water. You down the painkillers in one gulp.
If it knocks me out, at least I won’t have to see anything.
You rest your forehead against your knees. “I wish Azul was here.”
Why am I saying that? Do I really want him here? Maybe Cater would be better. Or Riddle. Anyone but Azul.
“My apologies. The withdrawal must make you feel immensely itchy.” He peers at the tub. You realize you forgot to pull the tarp back to its original place. “Consider this the beginning of your detox.”
“You’re selfish, you know that? I have my entire life ahead of me. I have—” you rub the cold sapphire set into the ring on your finger— “I had a wedding to look forward to. Someone I was going to marry. A baby! And you…” Before you can stop yourself, the tears are falling. Weeks of pent-up emotions overflow. You wipe hopelessly at your face, feeling pathetic for crying in front of him when he could care less, but the rivers continue running. “Y-You fucking took that away from me! And I can’t—it’s all so you can feed yourself.”
You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes and weep like a child. The voice in your head soothes you: You have time. You can still get out of this.
When you pull your arms away, you find Jade gazing at you. “If I’m as selfish as you say, what does that make you?” He pulls his sweatshirt up and over his head, and then you see it. The dress shirt.
A pit opens in your stomach. You feel sickness scraping at your throat again, and the sensation persists when he shucks his sweats next.
All this time, he was in formal attire…
“I have no interest in your affair with Azul. Rather, I find the entire thing quite circular. You were loosely attached once, but now you’re engaged. And then what? Are you going to run away when he does something unfavorable? You have the makings of a most atrocious bride.” Casually, as if this is a conversation held over afternoon tea, Jade folds the clothes and sets them on the towel rack. “I suppose that is just the nature of love. You return like the leashed pet you are and you let him love you because you are just as foolishly fond.”
That’s not true. You’re wrong. I don’t love him. I’ve never loved him.
“Ah, but this is just mere speculation based on what I’ve witnessed.”
“Stalker.”
“Not quite. Do you know how many times I’ve helped you—drunk, dazed, vulnerable you—and you never thought otherwise? I put you to bed. I did your laundry. I stayed by your side and cooked breakfast in the wake of your hangover. For so many years, I’ve beheld the (Name) who thinks she’s loved by all because she doesn’t love herself enough.” At your horrified expression, he laughs. “You like to babble when you’re inebriated. It’s very entertaining… What was it you told me a few months ago? That you’re a nothing human with an empty, ugly heart who isn’t worthy of Azul’s boundless generosity. That you pawn it for lust disguised as love because you can’t afford the real thing. That you—”
He sidesteps the glass you throw at him. It hits the floor and shatters with a splash. Glass shards slide across slick tiles. He watches you silently, his countenance unreadable.
“Shut up!” Odium darkens your face. You inhale a ragged breath, collecting what’s left of your tattered ego, and add in a shaky voice, “You don’t know me. You’ve never known me.”
“Perhaps not.” Jade leans down to smile at you. He’s close, but he doesn’t touch you. You challenge him with a mean scowl. “But I will soon.”
Before you can question that, a soft groan interrupts your discussion. Your head snaps over in the direction of the tub. Jade does much the same, only he moves slower. There’s a pregnant pause, tension crackling in the air, and then there’s movement. The woman struggles in the bath, her screams muffled against the tape. You wince, understanding her horror.
I know what that’s like.
Jade helps her sit up. She resists, shaking her head desperately and shrinking away from his hands as if they’re something monstrous. They are, technically. Her eyes meet yours then. Even though it’s a wordless exchange, everything you need to know shines on her tear-stained face. Her brows are pinched together in stressed disbelief. She’s trembling.
“If you promise to be quiet, I’ll remove the tape.”
Upon hearing that familiar phrase, you shudder. It seems to have the same effect on the woman. She looks at him and whimpers.
“P-Please listen to him,” you speak up, nodding encouragingly. “Don’t fight. It’ll make it worse.”
She spots your bandaged ankle and gazes at Jade with new terror shining in her brown eyes. They’re very pretty. Big and beautiful, almost like marbles. To think the last things she’ll ever see with such doll-like eyes are a hungry monster and a hapless captive.
Jade peels the tape off slowly and, unlike you, she keeps her mouth shut. A wise decision. You don’t want to think about what he might do to keep her quiet.
“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jade sets the sliver of tape aside. “Now then, I believe introductions are in order.”
“I… I don’t understand,” she whispers, pressing herself against a corner of the tub. “Why am I here? You told me you’d take me to a doctor. Y-You said you’d help me—”
“He’s a liar.” You fold your arms over your chest and huff. The woman’s expression falls. “It’s not your fault. I thought he was good, too.”
“So then—I’m just—why am I here? W-Why are you here?”
Jade steps in front of you to block your view of the distraught woman. “(Name) is my housemate—”
“Not by choice.”
“Still a housemate nonetheless,” he continues. “You’re here because I’m in need of a meal.”
“You’re…hungry? Is that… You’re serious? Is that really what this is about?” She shifts awkwardly in her restraints. You feel bad for her, even more so when you catch the hope bleeding into her voice. “Then, if that’s the case, I’ll cook something for you and you can let me go!”
Jade shakes his head.
You peer past his legs at her. “He’s going to kill and eat you.”
He frowns at you. “And I was intending to bask in the suspense…”
“You’re the worst. Genuinely.”
“I don’t understand… You’re…” She looks between you and Jade. Her eyes gloss over with fresh tears. “You’re going to kill me…”
“Indeed. Ah, but don’t look so disheartened. So long as you continue being good, I’ll grant you a painless death.”
“N-No way… I… I don’t wanna die. Please. M-My baby—I can’t—”
She breaks off with a choked sob. You watch her crumble without a word. It hurts to see her shoulders shake with every rattling inhale. It hurts even more knowing you’re just as stuck but temporarily spared. You glance at Jade to gauge his reaction. Like always, it’s impossible to read him. He’s always been like that, even before you found yourself trapped here. Smiling so sweetly, as if he isn’t a murderer, he would speak to you like a normal person, tease you like a friend, care for you when Azul couldn’t. You were so certain he was your friend—not just by way of association through Azul either.
He hid it—this massive, life-altering skeleton—like an expert. How did you miss it? What did you fail to catch?
Nothing. Because he never gave any indication of what was locked up behind unassuming closet doors.
Now you know better. So does this woman.
“I won’t tell anyone. I promise I won’t, so please let me go. Please, sir. My baby…”
Jade remains unfazed. “(Name) already tried those lines. Care to guess how well they worked?”
Landed me nine months on death row.
She hangs her head in defeat. “I can’t believe it… I’m actually… This is it.”
You rest your head against the wall and sigh. Jade stares a moment longer before striding to the door.
“I’ll give you time to get acquainted.”
With that, he shuts the door. It’s very obviously a test. He’s probably waiting on the other side, listening in to learn what sort of incriminating information you might share. Not that it matters if she hears it. She’ll take all of this new knowledge to the grave or, in more literal terms, Jade’s stomach.
“I’m sorry you’re caught up in this,” you murmur, tracing invisible circles into the floor. “What’s your name?”
“M-Marisa.”
You glance at her. “It’s beautiful just like you.”
“Oh. Well, t-thank you.” She offers you a shy smile. “My mother named me after the sea. It was her favorite place to visit whenever she needed inspiration. She was an artist, and the sea was her biggest muse.”
“That’s sweet. I wish I knew the lore behind my name.”
“It’s still pretty without the backstory.”
“I guess so.”
I never really put much thought into my name. Does it matter if it’s pretty or ugly?
“Actually… It’s kinda ironic. I don’t like the sea. It scares me, so I stay away from it.”
“The sea itself or what’s in it?”
“Both?” She attempts an awkward shrug. “There are scarier things out there, but there’s something unsettling about the ocean. Maybe I’m silly for thinking that.”
“You’re not. It’s normal to be scared of things we don’t understand.” Like right now. But you keep that part to yourself. “I can’t relate. I love the sea. The lost history, the creatures, the mysteries… It’s all so fascinating.”
“Really? You’re braver than I am!”
“I’m just way too passionate. That’s all.”
Am I? I said I’d be a marine biologist and that’s what I’ve been studying all this time. But…
Marisa sighs. “You’re lucky. I’ve always wanted to find something I could be passionate about.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something one day.” And then you pause. “Or… Um.”
She pastes another hollow smile on her face. “I thought I could be passionate about school, but I couldn’t do it. I dropped out and tried a few jobs. Everyone told me it’d be easier to get married instead of running around like a headless chicken, but that didn’t feel right. I thought I’d be passionate about things like motherhood and babies, but I dunno. I’m already so far along, but I haven’t felt anything yet. No excitement or anxiety. Just emptiness. And I know that’s a terrible thing to feel and think—we’re supposed to love the things we create! I don’t even think I truly love my boyfriend. I’m horrible—I know!”
“You’re not horrible. The truth is—” You stop yourself before the words can slip out. I don’t love Azul. I’m not even pregnant. “I don’t know if you’ll ever figure any of that out, but I know you’re a good person. You obviously care about these things. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be so worried.”
Marisa sniffles. “Thanks…”
“I can help you find your passion. There’s so much to do in the city. I’m sure something will catch your interest. Oh! Have you ever been to Siren’s Heartache? It’s a karaoke place. My friend and I used to go all the time.”
“I’ve been there once!”
“It’s amazing, isn’t it? My friend would order the craziest stuff off their menu. He hates sweets, but he’d get all kinds of sugary drinks and snacks for the hell of it. Said it didn’t matter because it’d look cute on camera, so no one needed to know if he enjoyed it.”
“He did it for the pictures? That’s it?”
“Yep! He loves photography. He’ll do anything to make sure he gets the best angles and lighting.”
“Wow… I don’t think I could be that dedicated.”
“No? Then what about schedules? My other friend used to be on these super rigid schedules. I’m sure he’s still on them now, but back then it was really suffocating. He’s always been so organized, though. It’s impressive.”
“Isn’t that too restrictive? Doesn’t he have any time for fun?”
“Would that be better? A free life filled with ups and downs or a rigid life you can plan around?”
“Both sound just as bad.”
“Isn’t that just life?”
She breathes a sardonic laugh. “From a pessimist’s perspective, sure.”
“What kind of life would you want?”
“Is it bad to say I want something easy?”
“No fair. You totally stole my answer!”
“Then maybe we’re both bad.”
“Yeah…” You stretch your legs out and flex your toes on your good foot. If that’s bad, then I’m the worst. “I guess we are.”
She giggles. “You’re supposed to disagree!”
“Oh, oops. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I don’t think it’s so bad to want an easy life. If it were up to me, I’d want it to be like one giant tea party. That way everyone can come together for tea and tiny cakes.”
“And you wouldn’t have to work, so who cares if you’re rich or poor!”
“Exactly! There aren’t any expectations. You can be good or bad. Empty like me or passionate like you. It’s all just conversation at the end of the day.” She gazes at you, and her features relax into a real smile. “I wish we could’ve met sooner. You seem like a fun friend.”
Am I really? I feel like I’ve been nothing but trouble for Riddle and Azul. Even Cater…
You hum your acknowledgement before nodding towards her belly. “Have you thought of any names?”
“Nothing yet. I’m not very creative and I don’t want anything basic either. Something memorable would suffice.”
“Like your name.”
“Right! Only nothing connected to the sea.” Marisa chuckles sheepishly. “It wouldn’t mean anything to me.”
“Maybe it doesn’t have to mean anything significant. As long as it comes from the heart and you like it, it should be fine. At least, I think that’s how it works.”
“I have no idea. This is my first time.”
You nod. Somehow it feels like I’m indirectly lying to her…
“You’ll find a name that sticks one day. When you do, let’s get together and celebrate.”
“At the Siren’s Heartache?”
“Wherever you’d like.”
She gasps. “How about a tearoom? There’s this really cute one just outside the city. I go there all the time. The owners are the nicest people I’ve ever met! If we go, we can have our own tea party. You can bring your friend who likes photography. I’m sure he’ll get lots of pretty pictures.”
That’s impossible. We both know there’s no chance of—
“Marisa!” She startles at the urgency in your tone. You look and sound as if you’ve just cracked a cold case. “That’s it!”
“What is?”
“Your passion! Tea parties!”
“I always thought that was more of a hobby…”
“You can be passionate about hobbies. I’ve never gone to a tea party myself and I don’t know what that involves aside from drinking tea and eating snacks, but it sounds like a good time.”
“Oh, it’s the best time! I love dressing up for it, too. On nights when I knew I’d be going the next day, I arranged my outfit in advance. What jewelry I’d wear, what makeup I’d put on, what purse I’d bring… I could spend hours trying on my clothes and picking different pieces. And their afternoon tea sets—they’re everything! You have to try it if you go! I love their egg sandwiches. Well, everything they serve is delicious.”
Your lips quirk up in a playful grin. “See? You’re not empty.”
Stunned, Marisa sits there in the bath. “You’re right,” she mumbles. “I never realized it, but I love tea parties. I love talking with people over food and drinks. I guess it came so easy to me and I did it so often that I didn’t think anything of it.”
“Maybe we can add ‘socialization’ to the list of passions?”
She laughs, her hair bouncing with the movement. It comes right from her chest—authentic amusement—and it’s a musical sound. You wish there was another way. Jade may have shown you mercy, but you’re certain it won’t be the same for her. Even with these unlucky odds, you’re determined to try. It’s the only thing you can do. Try and hope that something goes well.
You gesture for Marisa to turn around. She almost questions you, but you hold your index up to shush her. She stares at you, her lips pressed in a tight line, and nods her understanding. As quietly as she can, she shuffles in the tub until her back is facing you.
“Hey, what’s this tearoom called again?” you ask as you reach for the biggest glass shard.
“It’s called Portobello.”
“Like the mushroom?”
“Mhm! It’s forest-themed. They’re famous for their chaga tea.”
“Huh…”
Of course it’s mushrooms. You glance at the door. Do you hear that, you freak? Sounds like the perfect place for a mushroom fanatic like yourself.
“Do you like mushrooms?”
“They’re okay. I don’t eat them often. I have so many other foods I prefer…” You trail off as you saw through thick rope with the jagged glass. “Actually, there was this one time I got fried chicken from the city. I was stupid drunk and nothing was open, so my fiancé took me to a convenience store. It was cheap, but it was so yummy! I guess everything is when you’re that gone… Anyway, he was so mortified when I woke up the next morning wanting more. That was the only thing I remembered from that night.”
“Why was he so embarrassed? I think convenience store food is great!”
“Right? You understand it.” You sigh and shake your head, recalling that memory with startling clarity. “Azul is… It’s hard to explain.”
“But you’re engaged?”
“I’m crazy, aren’t I? Marrying a man who gets flustered over fried chicken from the convenience store. He ate it in a fancy suit, too. What a weirdo.”
“He sounds funny.”
“The funniest. It was our first year together as…contractual obligations. He was so determined to make a good impression that he banned junk food from his life. We broke that dumb rule that night. I think that was the first time I saw the real him. He’s cute when he blushes.”
“Contractual obligations? Why not partners?”
You cough awkwardly. “J-Just an inside joke. He’s a businessman.”
“Ah, that makes sense.” She flexes her fingers just as you manage to cut through the first knot. “That’s sweet.”
“What?”
“You and him.”
“What about us?” Your hand hesitates, gripping the shard with new force. Any tighter and you might slice your palm open.
“You must’ve been so hungry, and he went out of his way to make sure you were fed even if it meant breaking his rule.”
“That was just—he hates having to owe people stuff. He was just repaying a favor.”
“My mother used to tell me a good man will visit for your best, but a great man will stay for your worst and everything in between.”
“I…guess.”
No way Azul likes me at my worst.
You shut your mouth and resume your previous motions. With her hands now freed, you lean over the tub to work on the rope binding her ankles.
“What about your boyfriend? You said you’re not sure if you love him?”
“I don’t know what I want. We’re happy being together without any rings or ceremonies, but I feel like that’s not enough. I feel like I’m not enough.”
“Maybe you should take your mother’s advice.”
“I will when you do.”
“H-Hey!”
She giggles. “I’m kidding. I think… I’m glad you have someone who cares. It’s no fun being alone all the time. Sometimes it’s good to share your peace with others, even if that’s getting fried chicken from the convenience store with a weird guy on a chaotic night.”
You laugh, but it comes out choked.
Yeah, Azul’s weird.
And then the first tear lands on her foot. It isn’t long before more rush forth, blurring your vision. You manage to cut her free from the rope just before it becomes impossible to see clearly. When you meet her stare next, she smiles. It’s strained with sorrow.
Why are you crying? She’s just a stranger.
You throw your arms around her and sob quietly into her shoulder. She runs her hand along your back. It’s meant to soothe, but all it does is remind you of the limited time you have with her.
I’m crying because she’s a stranger. Because she’s someone I’ll never be able to know more than this.
“Escape,” you whisper as you pull away, pressing the shard into her hand. “And when you do, wait for me and we’ll have our giant tea party.”
She nods, her eyes shimmering with sadness. “You can count on it.”
When Jade returns, syringe in hand, it’s to a room of suffocating silence. You’ve no idea what its liquid contents are, but it can’t be very pleasant or safe. Regardless, you don’t intend to find out. He steps through the door, looks squarely at you, and smiles. Your skin crawls.
Calm down. It’ll be okay.
“You took your time.”
“Did I? My apologies if I kept you waiting.”
“Have you ever had mushroom tea before?”
He pauses. “Mushroom tea?”
So he wasn’t listening in. Either that, or he’s just hesitating for effect.
“I’ve never had it before, but I’d assume someone with your palate would’ve tried it.”
He laughs humorlessly. “Is there a reason for this assumption?”
“You like mushrooms. Sounds like something that’d be right up your alley.”
“You would be correct.” Jade taps the needle, eyeing the liquid within the plastic cylinder. “I’ve had it before, yes.”
“Was it good?”
“Quite.”
His gaze drifts towards the empty tub and you panic. “W-Will you bring some for me to try?”
He blinks at you. An amused smile pulls his lips apart.
You can’t stop the scowl that forms on your face. “I can’t control what the baby wants.”
Just a little longer… Keep your eyes on me.
“I’d love nothing more for you to try it.”
“But?”
“But there isn’t nearly enough credible information detailing whether chaga is safe to consume while pregnant. It would be very unfortunate if you injured your parasite on account of my negligence.”
“Someone did their research.”
“Indeed.”
“So what’s a good substitute? I want mushroom tea.”
“Pouting about it won’t fix anything.” He reaches to pull the curtain away, and you lurch forwards. The chain rattles. You pause with outstretched arms. Jade watches you with a frown. “Is something the matter?”
You lower your arms. “No… N-No, sorry. Nothing’s wrong. I’m just…hungry.”
“As am I, so if you could stop stalling for her sake I would appreciate it.”
A bone-chilling cold blankets the bathroom.
Your laugh comes out brittle. “Who’s stalling?”
It happens so fast you wish it was slow motion. Maybe then your reaction time would’ve been better. Marisa springs out from behind the door just as Jade turns to view her. She shoves him with as much strength as she can muster, swiping at him with the glass shard. Somehow she manages to drive it into his arm. Taken by surprise, he grunts and shakes her off. The syringe clatters to the floor and you dive to snatch it before he can. With Jade temporarily thrown off, Marisa flees from the room as quickly as she can. You look on with wide eyes, the syringe clutched in a tight fist.
She’s doing it… She’s actually escaping!
Jade curls his fingers around the glass lodged in his skin and rips it out. Blood spurts from the cut, crawling down his arm in a red slither. The chunk rests on the tiles in front of you, and it fills you with a proud satisfaction knowing he’s injured, if only partially. By the time you’ve blinked, he’s already hurrying towards Marisa. She’s about to wrench the bedroom door open, her freedom just beyond the confines of his home, but he seizes her wrist and yanks her away.
Just like the syringe in your hand, your heart drops.
She yelps and twists in his hold, flailing blindly. The scene is eerily reminiscent of your scuffle with Jade—the one you’d gotten into when he revealed himself as the intruder in your apartment. You were drunk then, wholly incapable of fending him off, but Marisa isn’t. She has a chance. She can escape. There has to be a way for—
You watch her fall, cringing at the resonating thud as her back makes contact with the floorboards. Jade’s hands are around her throat before you even know it.
“N-No… Wait. Wait, stop!” You lurch towards them, but the chain only allows you to go so far. You strain against the pull, grabbing at the door frame in hopes of breaking out of the shackle’s restrictive hold. “Jade—”
Marisa’s choked gasp cuts you off. You stare at her hands as they claw at Jade’s in animalistic desperation. Her eyes are so wide you see white; her mouth is open in a silent scream. With Jade on top of her, pinning her to the floor and squeezing her neck with ruthless precision, she can only kick her legs out and produce a haunting garble of sounds as she battles an impossible enemy.
“Stop! Let go of her!”
You grit your teeth and tug against the cuff. It digs into your skin and leaves you aching from the sting. Tears sprout along your lash line, and you cry out in pained frustration. Your agony doesn’t reach Jade’s ears. Or maybe it does and he’s just tuning it out. You’re unsure until you catch sight of his expression. A blank, empty slate—that’s what he is. There’s something murderous smoldering in terrifying two-toned eyes, but his lips are pressed in a firm pout and his brows are pinched together. Not from any sort of distress but, rather, from the physical exertion. His forearms flex, every muscle riddled with tense adrenaline, and his fingers dig into her throat to cut her circulation.
From where you stand, struggling against your restraints, you think his pupils are blown wide. He looks predatory. Unhinged in a feral sort of way. Like a wild animal who’s just pounced on his prey…
A wild animal. That’s what he is right now. Something unbound by human morals and law. A creature led only by instinct—by the intrinsic desire to slaughter and feast.
“Jade!” You give another determined tug to no avail. “Jade, please—you can’t do this! She’s pregnant! She has a boyfriend—a life! You can’t!”
Your voice is shrill, scratching through your vocal chords as if it intends to shred them to ribbons. You’ve never heard yourself sound so panicked before. Never known the crushing devastation of being so close and yet so powerless.
No matter how much you scream, Jade continues to strangle her. You can’t bear to watch any longer. Sinking to the floor, you lean against the wall and press your hands to your ears. You don’t want to hear Marisa’s wheezing breaths. You don’t want to see her struggle. You don’t want to see Jade as he kills her in front of you.
You don’t want to be a witness. You want out.
After minutes of torturous asphyxiation, her thread of life is snipped and she finally fades away. Moments later, urine soaks through her shorts and pools beneath her in a puddle. You look up just in time to see him release her and rise to his full height. Heaving a sigh, Jade tucks his dark hair strand behind his ear. Marisa lies lifeless, a husk of the once bright, bubbly woman you interacted with before this. Now she’s gone.
“Y-You’re a monster…” you manage through thick, anguished sobs.
He killed her. She’s…dead. Jade killed her. I just watched her die and there was nothing I could do and I…let it happen.
“This could’ve been avoided. I was going to give her an easy death, but you forced my hand.” Jade steps around you to pick the syringe up. “Let’s add another rule to our list. Seeing as I’m not allowed to touch you, it’s only fair that you keep your nose out of my work in return.”
Dead… She’s dead. Marisa is…
“Does that sound agreeable, (Name)?”
There’s a ringing in your ears—the warning tick of a clock or the foreboding chime of a death knell. Amidst every overwhelming sensation and haywire emotion, self-preservation echoes in your head: I’ve got to get out of here.
You blink through blurring vision. Are you crying? Numbly, you touch your face. The tears are there, wetting your cheeks in copious amounts. Something’s scratching at the back of your eyes. It’s not enough to feel like sleep, but it’s a familiar sensation. You’re certain you’ve felt it before. But when?
You can’t stop crying.
She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead.
You suck in gulps of air.
I should’ve done more. I could’ve done more! There had to have been something—logically. You have to look at it logically. She was doomed to die the moment Jade brought her here.
You dig your nails into your arms.
We were going to have a tea party. I was going to help her find more passions. We were going to be friends…
You watch Jade bend down to her height and press two fingers to her neck. Suddenly, there are two Jades and both are tilting. He glances at you, but his words don’t reach your ears.
I was going to save her.
Your head hits the floor with a thump. The world goes dark.
Unlike previous times, the dream aquarium is bursting with life today. Moon jellyfish float peacefully behind sturdy glass. A manta ray glides smoothly through the water in laps. Fish of all colors and shapes are caught up in the current. The glow from the tanks dyes the hall in a cool ultramarine.
It’s quiet here. Safe. Comforting.
You’re lying on the floor, dressed in a clean hospital gown, and there is an entire galaxy of jellyfish above you. They’re set into the glass ceiling, their translucent bodies bobbing up and down in hypnotic patterns. You blink once and the blue brightens as if breathing alongside you. You blink again and this time a woman pokes her head into your visual field. Her milky-white eyes, though piercing, don’t frighten you. She blinks one eye at a time and her irises explode with color—now a vibrant green. Her long, black hair is tied back in a braid that sweeps over her shoulder. Tiny stars are twined throughout.
When she speaks, she has the same voice as the woman from the intercom.
“Today’s color is blue. As vast and wide as the sky and sea, as deep and dark as water’s soul, blue is the color of trust and sincerity. It is the color of bruises and sadness. It is the color of loneliness. It is the color that has finally led me to you.”
You stare at her, spooked speechless.
“Hello again, (Name).” She smiles and offers her gloved hand. “It’s been a while. Many years, in fact. I thought I’d never be able to catch you.”
You hesitate. Can you trust her—the woman you’ve spent so many dreams pursuing? There’s no one else here in this hall. She’s your only option. Swallowing your fears, you grab her hand and allow her to hoist you to your feet.
“My name is Marmoris. Ah, I must inform you that I’ve taken the form of someone familiar, so please note that this isn’t the current me. My true form is…not very pleasant. I wouldn’t want to startle you with it.”
“The current you? Your true form?” You draw away from her and bump into the tank behind you. Turning around, you gaze at the image slowly forming within murky waters. It’s…Jade’s bathroom. And there’s Jade, stooped over Marisa’s corpse. He’s looking at you next. You place your hand against the glass, but the scene doesn’t disappear. “W-What is this? What’s going on?”
Marmoris joins you at the tank. Her reflection warps with a myriad of aquatic traits. At one point, you think you see fins where her ears ought to be—shadows of wispy tendrils where her lab coat once was. “You’ll have to forgive me. There was no other way. You’ve already seen too much.” She shuffles closer to you. Her hands cover your eyes next. “Please don’t look. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”
You squirm out of her hold. The picture presented in saltwater clouds in and out of clarity. “Protect me? I don’t understand. What do you mean by—”
“There’s not much time. I can’t keep you in here any longer than I already have.” She grabs hold of your hands and squeezes them. She looks sincere enough, but you can’t get past the fact that, though she claimed to take on the appearance of someone familiar, you can’t recognize this woman’s features.
She’s a stranger.
Before you can protest further, Marmoris leans in close and presses a kiss to your forehead. Her lips are frigid. The transient security of the desolate dream aquarium melts away, taking you with it.
“I promise I’ll explain everything the next time we meet. When we do, look for me. I’ll be waiting.”
You jerk awake with a gasp. Your hands fly to your throat on instinct. Slowly, while catching your breath, you peer around the bathroom. Marisa has been moved to the tub and Jade’s in the process of cleaning the floor. He glances at you. His arm is bandaged.
“Welcome back.”
You shoot him a withering look. “Eat glass and die.”
“Wouldn’t that please you?”
“It would,” you whisper weakly, more tears spilling over. “It really would.”
For the first time in a while, you can’t recall any slivers of your dream.
#yandere twst#yandere twst x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere jade leech#yandere jade leech x reader#yandere jade#yandere jade x reader#death row undertow#death row undertow chapter eight#serial killer jade
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Also idk if it’s a timing and scheduling thing or they just didn’t have the room for it but I find it odd that Eddie has been with Marisol for how long now? And we’ve had no significant scenes with them two at all. Like Tommy showed up swept Buck off his feet and smooched his ass in like an ep or 2. But like we’ve seen crickets from Eddie and Marisol. the story has to be that they’re gonna eventually break up because truly and honestly what has there been that would even have us remotely root for them lol. And she’s definitely showing up next episode but I sincerely doubt that they’ll be able to get people on that train. Which brings me back to the point that we are not supposed to think that they last because genuinely why would they
Yeah, not to put too fine a point on it, but regardless of how compressed a timeframe they're working with, if they wanted us to care then they would be trying to make us care, and they just aren't. If her coming back in 7x05 was intended to be anything other than the beginning of the end for them (and if this was intended to actually be a relationship instead of a plot device for Eddie's development), they would have made at least a bare minimum of effort to reintroduce her and their relationship. They could have given her more than a one line drive-by appearance in 7x01, but they didn't. And that's not because they didn't have the time, no, it's just that they made a choice to dedicate a solid 1/3 of the episode instead to Buck/Eddie/Christopher and Shannon, which basically tells the audience "this woman doesn't matter, but these relationships over here, those are the ones that are important." Eddie mentions that Marisol watched Chris twice while he was out with Tommy, but similarly, Buck finds that entirely nonthreatening - Chris spending time with Tommy and thinking he's cool though? That sent Buck into a whole spiral. Also similarly, Eddie's relationship with Tommy has had more screentime and development than his relationship with Marisol. And yes, that's partly because it was key to Buck's bisexuality arc, but still - it's signaling what they care about and what the audience is supposed to care about. And right now, Eddie's new friendship with Tommy - shown through both screentime and discussions of their shared interests - is substantially more believable than his relationship with Marisol who we don't know anything about as a person let alone anything about their relationship. Which...considering the title of 7x05 is "You Don't Know Me," I have an inkling we're going to find out that Eddie knows about as much about his own girlfriend of several months as the audience does. A whole lot of nothing meaningful. And if it seems at all like Eddie's just going through the motions or has doubts? There's no coming back from that when the audience doesn't care about her in the first place. So, yeah, even if it takes a few more episodes, they're donezo.
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LAVENDER HAZE — TREVOR ZEGRAS
trevor zegras x fem!reader
part of the Midnights Fic List
summary: in which y/n has been dealing with hate from Trevor’s fans and journalists constantly speculating when they’ll get married.
specific lyrics: “i been under scrutiny. you handle it beautifully. all this shit is new to me.” and “all they keep asking me is if i’m gonna be your bride. the only kinda girl they see is a one night or a wife.”
not my gif
“y/n, when are you and Trevor gonna get married?” a reporter asks as i walk through the hallways of Honda Center, away from the Ducks dressing room and up towards the seating. i send a stiff smile their way and continue walking, effectively ignoring their question.
i’ve been dating Trevor since we were sixteen. five years together and you’d think i would be used to this by now, but it’s harder than one would think.
of course Trevor and i have talked about marriage, when you’ve been together this long, it’s inevitable that you’ve talked about it. but we’ve mutually decided to wait until it feels right for us. we’re only twenty-one after all. but it seems that it’s the only question i get asked nowadays.
sure, when i ran into reporters in the past, they may have asked me this question a couple times, but usually they just asked me what it was like to be high school sweethearts with an nhl player or what kind of things Trevor does at home to get ready for a game. but now it’s always ‘when are you guys getting married?’ and ‘y/n has Trevor proposed yet?’.
having been dating Trevor since his USNTDP days, it’s definitely different dealing with him now having real fans and him being approached at restaurants for pictures. i don’t mind it, but it can get to be a bit much when with his fame comes hate towards me. girls telling me i’m not good enough for him or that they could treat him better and whatnot. every photo i post on instagram has at least twenty comments saying such things.
**
i’m sat on the couch waiting for Trevor to get home from his game. i left right after it ended, Trevor texting me that he had to do interviews and that Jamie would drop him off at home.
—
@y/n11 just posted
Liked by @jackhughes and 14,628 others
@y/n11: the secret is out, i’m actually just @trevorzegras personal photographer 📸
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@user1: y/n using her boyfriend for clout again lol
@user2: alexa play treat you better by shawn mendes
@jackhughes: i’m stealing Louie next time i visit
@y/n11: good luck, Trevor might actually disown you as a friend if you try
@jackhughes: @y/n11 sounds like a win-win situation to me
@user3: how has it taken me months to realize she changed the number in her username to match Trevor’s jersey number? didn’t she used to be y/n46?
@user4: yeah, and before that she was y/n9 to match his usa number. they’re so cute 😭 i wonder if she’ll change her username to y/nzegras when they get married
@trevorzegras: and you’re the cutest photographer there ever was
@y/n11: i wanna smooch your face 💋💋
@_alexturcotte: whipped
@trevorzegras: @_alexturcotte i don’t see you with a girlfriend so which one of us is really winning here?
@user5: oh look, another post of Trevor. anyone wanna take a guess on what her next post will be? hint: it probably won’t her ugly ass
@_quinnhughes: miss you! come visit soon!
@trevorzegras: aww miss you too Huggy!
@_quinnhughes: @trevorzegras did it look like i tagged you? you can stay in Anaheim
@y/n11: miss you too Hugs! i’ll come with Trev on their next game there and root for you! 🧸
@user6: lmao she’s rooting for another guy? slut. bet she’s bounced around to all Trevor’s old teammates + Quinn
—
i scroll through the comments on my recent instagram post, seeing all the girls insulting me or saying i use Trevor for fame. am i not allowed to post my boyfriend anymore just because he’s in the NHL?
i didn’t realize i had tears welling in my eyes until one drops onto my screen. wiping it off, i hear the front door open and shut, Trevor arriving home. i listen to the mundane sounds of him slipping his shoes off and dropping his keys into the dish by the door before i hear his footsteps coming towards the living room. i hastily wipe away my tears and sniffle before he can see that i’ve been crying.
“hey, baby.” i say, my voice not quite recovered from my throat being closed up while i was crying, but Trevor doesn’t seem to notice. he takes the seat next to me on the couch, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me in so my head lays on his chest.
“hi, love. did you see that goal i made for you?” he asks and i chuckle.
“i did. you did amazing, babe. i’m so proud of you.” i tell him, wrapping my arm around his waist and squeezing him tighter to me. he drops a kiss to the top of my head and i can feel the smile on his lips.
“lemme see that pretty face.” he whispers, nudging my chin up with his hand. but when i look up at him, his smile drops. “hey, what happened? why were you crying?”
he rubs at my cheek with his thumb, tracing my puffy under eye with the tip of it. i shake my head slightly.
“it’s nothing, Trev.” he shakes his head and scowls.
“it’s not nothing if it made my girl cry. now tell me.” he says.
“it was just the comments on my instagram post. there were these girls—” i cut myself off, not knowing if i want to tell him what they said.
“hey, what? ‘there were these girls’ what?” he asks softly.
“these girls were commenting that i was using you for clout, and that i was ugly. and another one said that i’ve probably gotten with you and all your friends.” i whisper. his face contorts in disbelief before dropping into an angry frown.
“don’t listen to them.” he tells me. i open my mouth to rebut but he speaks again. “i’m serious, y/n. don’t pay them any attention. i know you’re not using me. i mean, you put up with my annoying, class clown ass in high school. if that doesn’t speak wonders then i don’t know what does.”
i giggle and land a light smack against his chest.
“i happen to have liked your annoying, class clown ass.” i tease.
“and i still wonder why.” he shrugs. “as for the other comments, you’re gorgeous, princess. you’re so beautiful. i still can’t believe i get to wake up every morning and see that pretty face. i can’t understand for the life of me, why you stay with me when you’re so out of my league. but i’m so grateful that you do, because i can’t imagine where i’d be and what my life would be like without you.”
i smile at his sweet words and lean up to kiss his lips.
“i love you.” i mumble against them.
“i love you too, babygirl.” he presses one more quick peck to my lips before pulling away “also, i know you’ve never been with any of my friends. i mean, c’mon, why would you want them when you can have this?”
he sweeps a hand down his body and i bark out a laugh. he smiles down at me, running his hand through my hair before he stops it at the back of my neck, pulling me in for another, deeper, kiss.
“you know, i’ve been thinking.” he tells me when he pulls back.
“oh that’s never good.” i say.
“ha ha ha.” he narrows his eyes at me, slipping the hand from the back of my neck in order to use it to shove my forehead, making me fall back onto the cushion of the couch behind me. “i was thinking, maybe next year?”
“maybe next year what?” i ask, face contorting in confusion.
“maybe next year we should get married.” he says. i pop back up into a sitting position quickly, nearly hitting my head against his. he chuckles and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.
“Trevor Zegras did you just propose to me?” i ask, my tone incredulous. “on our couch?!”
“yeah, i guess i did.” he says. “what do you say? you wanna be my wife?”
“i could hit you right now.” i tell him.
“so, it that a no?” he asks, an eyebrow raised in questioning. i shuffle onto his lap, straddling him and grabbing his face in my hands.
“there is nothing in this world that i want more than to be your wife.” i whisper, leaning my forehead against his.
“oh thank god.” he sighs. he sticks his hand in his pocket, shuffling around in it before pulling his hand back out in a fist. he opens his fist to reveal a ring box. “because i’ve had this ring since we were eighteen.”
tears sting my eyes, my heart leaping in my chest as i pull my head back from his. he opens the box, showing off a beautiful white gold ring with a pear cut diamond and a twisted halo design.
“since we were eighteen?” i ask. “but that’s the year that we were fighting all the time.”
“yeah, and you stayed. despite all the stupid arguments, you still made sure we never went to bed angry at each other, and you stuck by my side.” he takes the ring out of the box, slipping it onto my finger before pressing a kiss to my knuckles.
“i love you so much.” i whisper before capturing his lips with mine. he pulls back a second later to mumble out his own ‘i love you’ before he resumes kissing me.
but then a thought pops into my head and i pull away, furrowing my brows at him.
“why did you have the ring in your pocket right now?” i ask him.
“well i had this whole plan that i was gonna bring you out on the ice before warm ups and ask you there but, when it came down to it, it didn’t feel right. i wanted the right moment. and now felt right.”
—
@y/n11 just posted
Liked by @colecaufield and 43,793 others
@y/n11: forever with you sounds pretty great @trevorzegras
comments on this post have been limited.
@trevorzegras: i’m pretty damn lucky that i’ll get to call you my wife 🤍
@jackhughes: finally! i was beginning to think he would never use that damn ring! congrats guys
@y/n11: you knew about the ring?!
@jackhughes: @y/n11 who do you think helped him pick it out?
@colecaufield: congrats you guys! can’t wait to be the best man
@jackhughes: think again bud, i’m gonna be the best man
@_alexturcotte: @jackhughes i think we all know that I’M gonna be the best man because Trevor likes me best
@y/n11: @jackhughes @_alexturcotte thank you cole! and i hate to be the bearer of bad news but the best man will definitely be Louie … gotta go 🏃♀️
@_quinnhughes: congratulations! so happy for you two!
@y/n11: thank you Huggy! get ready to go suit shopping because i can’t imagine anyone else being my man of honor
@lhughes_06: damn, Z beat me to it. i was gonna ask you this summer at the lake house! happy for you though 🥲😪
@y/n11: aww sorry Moosey! keep an eye out just in case forever doesn’t work out
@griffinzegras: can’t wait for you to officially be my sister!
@y/n11: aww you’ve been my baby brother for 5 years but now it’ll be legally true! can’t wait to boss you around!
@griffinzegras: @y/n11 i take it back @trevorzegras any way that you wanna take her back to the pound?
@trevorzegras: @griffinzegras nah, i like this one. i’mma keep her
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#trevor zegras#trevor zegras imagine#trevor zegras x reader#nhl fic#nhl imagine#anaheim ducks#faithlynn’s writings <3#babydollmarauders#midnights fic list
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5:45
Frank Castle (Peter Castiglione x reader)
Part One
WC : 2.5K
SW : No usage of"Y/N," physical appearance and details are left completely ambiguous and are up to interpretation. Reader is gender neutral! but is implied to be AFAB. Mentions of blood, knives, stab wounds, etc. Frank and the reader do some smooching and some snuggling because he so cute and I just wanna put him in my pocket and carry him around.
If there's any more warnings to be added let me know!
Ths is a re-post, all of my old accounts were deleted.
Pete’s apartment is on a side of town you’d never been to. A shifty looking building with no front entrance, only a back door. You can’t really make anything out, your body slowly shutting down, your vision blurry, lids heavy. But you can briefly make out the fact that Pete removes one hand from holding you to wrench the building door open. It feels as if all the blood that isn’t pouring out of the stab wound in your side floods to your face. Literally on the verge of passing out from blood loss and you can only focus on his muscles, good going, you think to yourself.
You’re snapped out of your drooling reverie when Pete begins the ascent up the stairs. He tightens his grip on you, apologising profusely at the sound of your quiet pained whimpers, briefly explaining that the place had no elevator- it had been broken for years. He once again removes one hand from you to dig into his pocket grabbing a singular key to unlock his door. He quickly rushes you to this bed, placing you down gently. He glides his palm along your forehead as he immediately rushes off to some other part of the house.
Once again your mind is filled by Pete. Bleeding out or no, you can’t help but focus on the way the sheets are absolutely doused in his smell. Looking around you take in the small apartment -- if you could even call it that. The room is bare, as are the walls. The paint is tan colored. The bed he placed you on is small, next to it is a simple white night table. Upon the table is a stack of books, which makes you smile, there's a lamp, and a propped up photo, 4 white lines running through it, showing all the times it had been folded and unfolded. The corners are crinkled and dirty, and in the photo is a gorgeous woman and two children.
Oh.
“That’s Maria.” You gasp, whipping your head around. You hadn’t even noticed that Pete had come back. He places a hand against your sternum, thumb rubbing in a soothing manner. He takes a pair of scissors and begins cutting your shirt from the bottom of your stab wound to the edge of the fabric, gently peeling it from around the area and lifting it up to rest around the bottom of your ribcage. He says nothing else as he gently rubs the skin with an alcohol soaked cloth, gently avoiding the knife. The hand holding you down becomes heavier as he applies more pressure to keep you from squirming.
When he’s done with that he reaches down and grabs a thick leather belt from the rest of his supplies. He stands only to replace his hand with his knee, holding you down. He goes to hold the belt in front of your mouth, uttering a quiet “you’re gonna wanna bite down on this.” You’re confused as to why he’s got his knee on you, pressing down with all his body weight. Your confusion soon becomes painful understanding as he grabs the handle of the knife and slowly pulls it out. Your screams are muffled, teeth clamping down so hard on the leather you think they’ll snap right out of your mouth. Your hearing goes fuzzy, a dull ringing beginning to take its place. You can briefly make out Pete’s praise and whispers of how well you’re doing, that it’ll all be over soon. But you hardly understand him, your head spins, the ringing picks up full force and the world goes dark.
Everything hurts. That’s the first thought that comes to your mind when you wake up. Your whole midriff hurts. Eyes heavy, lids struggling to open. You make the mistake of trying to sit up, only partially getting up before the pain overtakes you. Letting out a loud yelp, eyes snapping open at the sudden burst that fills every nerve of your body. Tears well in your eyes, immediately spilling out the corners. A hand slides to the small of your back, another to the soft bit of your stomach. “Easy sweetheart, easy. I got you baby, don’t worry I got you.” Eyes snapping to your right to see Pete, body immediately going lax. “Pete?” voice wavering as more tears spill out. “Yeah sweetheart it’s me. Don’t move, I don’t want you to pull your stitches.” Your back makes contact with the bed again, pillow fluffed and plush under your head. One of his hands goes to your head, palm smoothing down on your forehead, pushing hair out of your eyes.
“Do you remember what happened?” Voice quiet and… scared? “Yes,” letting out a cough, your voice rough and scratchy, “The man from the diner, he got me. You got him.” The corner of one side of his mouth pulls up, before it drops down. He turns extremely serious in a split second, eyes losing any sort of emotion in them. He goes cold. “Yeah. I got him.” Eyes glancing away from you, his head turning, looking at the walls, the floor, the window, avoiding looking at you at all.
“Pete?” A hand placed on his, you see him physically tense up at your touch, causing you to let go, not wanting to disturb him. He turns his head back towards you, looking in a longing manner at your hand that's now resting back at your side. He gives you a long look before he spins around, sitting on the edge of the bed, back facing you. “Petey are you okay?” His head goes down, shaking. You’re worried you’ve done something wrong, why is he shaking his head?
“It’s Frank.”
“What?”
“My name’s not Pete, it’s Frank.”
~
This was such a bad idea. He’d be putting you in so much danger by telling you who he really was. But then again he had already put you in enough danger when he befriended you. But you deserved to know, he had literally killed a man in front of you less than 2 hours ago. He could still feel the fear in his system, the panic, the thought that you could’ve been gone, ripped from his world in a split second. He doesn’t realise that his eyes are welling up with tears, his hands beginning to shake.
“What do you mean?” your voice shaking, he can hear you shuffle in the sheets, the apprehension and confusion in your tone. He turns to make sure you haven’t made any drastic moves, that you haven’t hurt yourself further. When he looks at you there’s a tenseness in your bones, a crease between your brows, and a certain look of fear in your eyes.
This was a bad idea.
“My name isn’t Pete, my name is Frank Castle.” He watches the gears turn in your head as you connect the pieces. He knows you’ve put it together when your eyes widen a fraction, eyebrows from furrowed to raised in shock, your body becomes even more impossibly stiff. “The Punisher.” you whisper, eyes turning to make contact with his own, he can only muster a nod of the head. Licking his lips, he opens his mouth as if to say something, but Frank seems to fall short on words.
He starts to feel panic swell in his chest, the idea of you being afraid of him is something that doesn’t settle right. He scrambles for words, anything to say to you to make you not afraid of him.
“I-I never did anything to anyone that didn’t deserve it. Everyone I killed was a piece of shit. I would never do anything to hurt good people, t-to hurt you.” His voice is but a whisper, hoarse, he can feel himself choking up, that impenetrable wall that he had built was crumbling. He whispers your name, “I would never hurt you. Ever.”
“I know.”
Frank can feel the weight of the world fall off his shoulders, even more so when you prove your words by placing your hand on top of his and squeeze. “I know Pe- Frank. I trust you.” He hadn’t realised that any tears had slipped from his eyes until your hand briefly left his own to brush against his cheek, wiping the salty drop away. You trusted him.
What more could he ask for?
~
It was shocking. To find out the man you had been pining after for months was the Punisher, New Yorks’ most lethal man. Shocking, but not surprising.
Pete-- Frank, had always had the characterization of a dangerous man. At first glance he was an ordinary man. Quiet, respectful, he worked long hours doing construction, he ate the same thing every time he came into the diner. But that was at first glance. You knew him-- to some level, at least. He had that look in his eyes. A caged predator prowling, waiting for someone to forget to lock the door. It had always been there, lurking, waiting. It was second nature to him, pain was his career, in the military, and as Hell's Kitchen’s scariest vigilante.
You honestly feel sort of stupid, for not realising sooner who he was. You remember when he was in court, the trial of the century. You remember that you had honestly felt sympathy for him, he'd only been avenging the deaths of his wife, maria, and his children. He had never killed anyone that didn’t deserve it.
And you had never been afraid of him anyways. Quite the opposite really, the massive crush you’ve harboured for the man since the first time he invited you to sit at his table with him.
You’d fallen for Pete, but you could see yourself falling for Frank too.
You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Frank squeezed your hand. His eyes soft and his lips in a soft smile. You feel yourself giving him a soft smile too, “Thank you Frank. For everything. Truly.” Letting go of his hand so you can hold both arms out as much as you can, muscles still weak. He moves slowly, legs straddling yours. One arm slowly weasels its way behind your back, the other gently cradling the back of your neck. He gently moves you into a sitting position. You find it doesn’t hurt as much when he gently lifts you up, the precise and calculated movements hurting less than when you try to push yourself up earlier.
When you’re fully sat up, he accepts your invitation for a hug. One arm coming around your shoulders while the other gently cradles your head against his collarbone. “You really had me worried sweetheart. I was really afraid you weren’t gonna wake up. Your pulse got so weak, I just…” His words fade off as his fingers card through your hair. You snuggle closer to him, arm trying to wrap around his waist with as much energy you could muster. “I’m sorry for worrying you Frankie.” He squeezes you a little, pulling your head away from his body.
He says no words, the creases and hard lines in his face smoothing out. Frown going away. His face becomes soft, the corners of his lips pulling up a little bit. “You ain’t got nothin’ to be apologising for baby. None of this is your fault.” his face moves closer and closer to yours, his arm around your shoulders subconsciously tightening around your shoulders, pulling you closer to himself. His eyes glance down to your lips, “Nothing at all.”
It’s like fireworks going off when his lips fall upon yours. You can’t help the slight gasp that falls from you at the feeling. His lips are chapped, yet his kiss is soft. It’s barely a featherlight pressure upon your lips, his hesitancy to kiss you properly holding him back. It’s only when you weakly put your hand up to his cheek and try to push closer does he put more force behind the kiss. A low groan rumbles out of his chest as he presses his lips harder against yours, the hand cradling the back of your head moves to entangle itself in your hair.
It’s when your hand slides off his cheek, nail gently scraping across his beard does he let out a very loud, strangled, groan. He pulls away from the kiss, his breathing heavy, warm puffs hitting across your face. “We gotta stop before I get too worked up sweetheart.” Dropping his head so it bumps against yours lightly. Frank places a kiss on your temple before he buries his face in the crook of your neck, the coarse hairs of his beard rubbing against the sensitive skin.
You can’t form any words, both of your hands coming up to hold the back of his neck, brushing all the hair off his nape, fingers gently playing with the long strands.
“You’re a really good kisser Frankie.”
His body shakes with the force of the laugh that comes out of him. Frank pulls back from your shoulder, mouth in a full smile, eyes crinkled in the corners. You can’t help but think of how pretty he looks like this. He looks so normal like this, so carefree, like he just left everything that makes him who he is at the front door when he walked in.
You can’t help the admiring and lovesick tone in your voice when you say “You’re so pretty,” bringing your right hand down and around to brush against the crinkle next to his left eye, down to the smile lines just barely visible through his beard.
Frank slowly lowers you back down against the pillows before taking a spot next to you. He lays on his side facing you, half of his body on the edge of the small bed to give you more space. His left arm lays under his head, his right arm gently places itself along your midriff in a protective position. Being extremely mindful of your stitched up wound.
He continues to look at you with that crinkled-eye, dazed smile on his face. “You’re even prettier, sweetheart. Now get some sleep, you’ll need rest to get better.” You say nothing, simply nodding your head in agreement. Right hand going to the side to grab the bottom of his shirt, gently tugging on it. He takes the hint and with extreme caution, scoots closer to you, his front almost pressed completely against your side.
He moves his left arm out from under his head to lie under yours, pressing you snuggly against him. With your right ear pressed to his chest you can hear his heartbeat, even and strong, reverberating in your mind. You find that the warmth radiating off his body makes you extremely sleepy, eyes getting heavy, lids slowly slipping closed. Before you drift off to sleep you make sure you tell Frank how appreciative you are one last time.
You tilt your head to look at him, and just over his shoulder you can make out the beginning of the sunrise slipping through his thin-curtained window. “Thank you for saving me, Frankie.” Eyes closing all the way as you fall asleep.
A gentle kiss placed against your hairline, “Anytime, sweetheart.”
~
Originally posted July 8th, 2022.
#frank castle x reader#pete castiglione x reader#the punisher#the punisher x reader#frank castle#1-800marvelqueen#mywriting
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THEA!!!
they r so boyfriends! 😭😭😭😭😭😭 it should be illegal to read acswy while being single CAUSE I WANT TO BITE SOMEBODY SO BAD. so im gonna bite u guys. as a revenge for my poor heart. sorry.
first of all will with tote bag!!! mike with long sleeves and shorts!!! yes!! their fits r literally so perfect. i just have to say it.
the fact that will didn’t even bring his car key with him. he doesn’t hate mustang as much as he pretends 😭 and he definitely changed his mind after mikes explanation. can’t wait till will break his stupid rule and they’ll make out senselessly in it.
i got mikes reasoning for buying that car (and ted is an asshole in every universe. sorry that it happened to u thea) but he could choose less pretentious one 🙄 sorry i have a with aversion towards expensive cars. their drivers always think that they better than traffic regulations. anyway.
manual transmission is a crime against humanity and im glad that i never have to use it again. it wasn’t that bad on the road and changing gears doesn’t take much time but traffic lights became my arch enemies cause i always managed to stall on them 😭 i hope ur lessons were better btw. i feel that will will shake like chihuahua😭 plus it like one extra leg on the clutch and i have no idea how to not forget about it if u only drive automatic.
their not-date date cause they definitely aren’t dating they’re barely friends who love kiss each other on the mouth and hold hands and spend time together and tell each other their deepest secrets.
the things i felt when mike dropped wills hand in the car. i Know it was was a reason. and he totally recovered himself by holding wills pinky the entire way to the mall. i know their pinkies Hurt cause where’s no other way.
when they’ll find out that smooches at the center of the cafe is not really platonic. isn’t really platonic with kissing if we’re judging be their standards. The Kiss in the changing room though…. they literally obsessed with each other i can believe guys used to pretend they enemies 😭
someone brought up dwoht on relation to the thrift store and i can’t stop thinking about it
“u (authors) said there was nothing in the world that could stop it
i (i) had a bad feeling”
i loveeee noticing how their humor changed. will doesn’t want to hurt mike anymore he wants to laugh with him instead 💔 and he thinks mikes password is cute and loserish (it is) but he charmed by it omgggg!!!
im so glad that i spent this year with u guys (im finishing my comment in 2024!!!! happy new year!!!) and im excited to follow the story next year too. days if the updates became my favorite and brought me so much joy!!
thea, suni and andi thank u so much for ur talent and passion!! ily!! happy new year 🎉🎄🥳🎊🤶❄️
ALYAAAA i am SO sorry that i am the worst and it takes me forever to answer things but just know i have been holding this ask so close to my chest for the past million weeks bc it is so special to meeee 💗💗💗💗💗
i will accept the biting bc i am also biting someone. it is hard to WRITE it while being single wtf. every time i write a kiss scene i'm like gd who wants to kiss me..............i am here and kissless...........
that and also i think he was so eepy he didn't even Think abt bringing his keys but also lbr he knew mike was going to insist on driving lol. mike fr could have chosen a less pretentious car But i think mustangs are universally cool cars for sure and i think it's very important to mike to have a cool car so even tho it's not necessarily something he would have picked out himself i do also think that he loves it. a little bit. (<- a lot bit)
i've ended up not actually learning how to drive a manual bc me and my sister have both been busy so all of my knowledge for the next chapter is going to be thru research and osmosis so pls call me out if anything is incorrect 😭
sometimes you have to kiss your friends on the mouth!!!!! and go on a not-date date w them!!!!!!!!!! that is so totally normal!!!!!!!!!!!!! their pinkies definitely hurt so bad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! they are obsessed w each other fr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
dwoht is not on the ch9.2 playlist but it is for suuuuure very will-coded for this stretch of the story if you even care.
we are so glad WEEE spent this year w YOUUU alya ty for supporting us and always leaving the sweetest most thoughtful comments 💗 i hope tht ch9.2 is everything you've ever dreamed of!!!!
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alternatively, i've also always found the idea of a "dutch oven" (which is basically the same as hotboxing) arousing. especially when it's treated like sth casual and not kinky for the parties involved but obviously the audience/ readers may get off on it.
there's this teen wolf fic on ao3 called "Good Books" (M/M tho) that drives me wild. imagine a dom/sub undertone between best friends that's barely even noticable where the "dom" uses farts as a non-sexual punishment for his "sub" and best friend. in my scenarios, i'd add some ass worship and the like.
you've told your friend you'd be there on time for a movie's premiere but end up missing the entry by a few minutes? then you'll be spending a feature length film under the covers with your nose in their clothed crack as they get to enjoy another movie while blowing viscious gas in your face.
you've promised to act as their chaperone and matchmaker when they wanna ask out a girl, but your advice actually backfires completely? well, guess who's gonna kiss and lick some booty tonight, seeing how you prevented your friend from their own booty call. they'll make sure to keep you practicing your kissing techniques on their wrinkly pucker while they sleep peacefully, knowing you'll be slaving away like it's your fulltime job even though they won't even be awake for it.
you've gotten into a big fight with them and now, all you want to do is make up? luckily, you're not above being subjected to the silent treatment as they ingest all sorts of food that make them gassy. as they sit on the couch with their thighs spread, still giving you the cold shoulder, you plant your face between their cheeks. to ensure you're close enough, they press your head even harder against their ass before covering you with a blanket and reclining with their phone in hand. their farts hit you point blank and soon, it reeks inside the humid space but you don't complain. you accept your punishment and don't hesitate to keep your face close to their butt even when they stand up and walk around, causing you to shuffle behind on all fours. in the end, you're forgiven and you place a conciliatory smooch on their ass and are greeted with an amiable, smelly toot in turn.
after all, holding others accountable is important, even amongst friends.
this is driving me so fucking wild it’s not even funny. like holyy shit🥵. the unspoken agreement too? pissing them off and with one look you know to get under their ass? and that you better get comfy because you’re about to be there for the next several hours😵💫. christ.. the possibilities.. them smothering your face with their barely clad ass bc u broke something of theirs; so it’s only fair you’re their new gaming chair for the rest of the night. arguing during a group hang-out and them saying they’ll drive you home - except it’s a four hour ride and you all just had taco bell, and you can hear their stomach gurgling🥴
also side note absolutely don’t mind whatever slash pairing anyone sends to me is! the situation is more than enough for me. also fuck.. beggars can’t be choosers
#what’s a little gas amongst friends?#asks#eprocto#eproctophilia#farting#fart kink#gassy girls#gassy guys
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Some ideas I’ve been brewing around and might evolve these to something.
CW/TW: Implications of murder/violence
Heartslabyul where they’re a successful boy idol group. You're the manager for the Rose Queendom and it sure is a tiring job.
You usually are the one to rein in Ace and Deuce from causing trouble on stage. The one who has to forbid Cater from posting that incriminating selfie. Calm Riddle down from blowing up at his makeup artists. Shield Trey from his gnawing self doubt.
It's a tough job, but the boys are lovable and handsome. They actually kind of grow on you, the more time you spend with them.
You know when to draw the line though, and they're rather annoyed that you won't take their affectionate hugs or kisses on the cheek. Even Cater's usual effective gaslighting doesn't work on you to cave in to him.
What's this about their NRC company making you transfer? And to Sea Witch's idol group? Heavens no, not if the five of them had anything to say about it.
TreyCater, but they're your next door neighbors.
It's Trey who knocks on your door when you first move in, offering you freshly baked pie and a warm welcome in the Rose Maze apartment complex.
You soon meet Cater in the hallways by chance. He’s charming and sociable, good at keeping the conversation going.
Their relationship doesn't surprise you at all. You don't bat an eye when Cater smooches Trey in front of you, only continuing to sip at your tea while carrying on the conversation.
Soon enough, the duo both realize how much they enjoy your presence. You’re soon at their dinner table nearly every night (they say it’s because they want to lessen your burden of having to cook alone), running little errands together (Cater insists it’s because the chore is so boring without your company), and even cuddling together on the sofa.
But you're a little envious of their loving relationship, wanting a love like that for your own.
But your neighbors are not pleased to see you all dolled up for a date you matched with online.
And if they have to remind you the hard way on who you belong to, they’ll readily get their hands dirty.
Trey, who’s your family’s friend kid, who you absolutely hated.
Every single time he gets brought up, you have to hold back your eye roll and groan. He’s always being hailed by your parents as the best, kindest, and smartest. You’re always being compared to him, and it makes you come to resent Trey in the long run.
Not that that’s stopped him from trying to get to know you better. He always smiles so prettily at you, and you absolutely hate it. He shows up to your house asking if you want to hang out with him and his friends Chenya and Riddle, and you want to just sock him one.
You’ll show him! You try to outdo him in everything you can, from cleaning, to grades, and even in cooking. It infuriates you to no end when he eats some of your food and with his usual homely smile, tells you it’s the best he’s ever had.
Flash forward some years and you’re both young adults, and you’ve decided to put the whole childish one-sided feud behind you. While you can’t say you can ever be friends with the dude, you can at least be civil whenever you see him.
Oh, Seven above, hell no. Both your parents are trying to hook you up with him. It’s terrible because they’re so obvious about it and you don’t like how Trey doesn’t refute the way they push you two alone in situations.
Besides, you have your own boyfriend! But when you break the news to Trey, his smile slips from his face, and the ugliest expression flashes before your eyes. Since then, you try to not cross paths with him, creeped out at the way his face lost all emotion.
But suddenly your boyfriend turns up dead, with no clues linking back to his death. You’re devastated and heartbroken, grief locking you in your bedroom. No one can get you out and it’s been a given that you’re trying to waste away to follow your lover.
But Trey, kind and sweet Trey, shows up to your door with your favorite cookies, and entices you out to at least breath fresh air.
You’ll never realize how his smile returns eerily as he traps you within his home and arms. Not till it’s too late.
Deuce, who’s an old childhood friend that you’ve long lost connection to.
He left it all behind in his hometown, his delinquent past, but he kept holding onto one thing: you, his sweet childhood friend.
You were the one thing that kept him going in his rage filled days. He still remembers your gentle touch when fixing him up from his scuffles. Sometimes, he'll even hold that handkerchief to his face and breath in, thinking about you.
Why haven't you responded to any of his letters or texts? When winter break comes and he returns home, triumphant and confident to show you that he's changed from his belligerent ways, he's more than just shocked to see that you now have a lover.
He thought he was special to you. But you just ran off with the nearest hot shot when he left town, huh?
He’ll make sure to get rid of your lover with all the intimidation tactics he swore to forget. You’ll thank him later, even if you’re crying at the sight of him covered in your lover’s blood.
#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twst#my works#heartslabyul rot on the mind babeyyyy
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annual writing self-evaluation 📝
Many thanks and muchas smooches to @justhere4thevibez for tagging me! 🥰
1. List of works published this year (in no particular order):
chapters 56-84 of With a Little Help From My Friends (completed 5/15/23)
Next Time I Fall (24 chapters, completed 12/19/23)
Lost and Found and Turned Around (7 chapters, completed 11/16/23)
2. Work you are most proud of (and why):
I’m incredibly proud of all my works, but I think probably I’m most proud of Next Time I Fall. I created a brand new rarepair, shaped a beautiful fluffy love story for them, and persevered through extreme personal difficulty to finish the fic despite the temptation to abandon it.
3. Work you are least proud of (and why):
There are a couple of chapters in Little Help that I feel aren’t as strong as they could’ve been. 64, 73, and 81 in particular. I don’t know what I should’ve done to make them better; I just know they needed more.
4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:
I’ll pick one little snippet from each fic…
Little Help:
Wayne waited until she’d finished her tiny blueberry slice and was debating over which to try next. “Actually, sugar,” he said quietly to Max, “I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“About what?” she asked, puzzled. “About gaining weight? That was a joke.”
“No.” He watched Eddie let Lucy lick a tiny smear of pie filling from his finger, despite Chrissy’s protest that sugar wasn’t good for cats. “About staying with us.”
A chill ran through her. “It’s still okay, right?” she said hesitantly. “My mom’s getting out of the rehab next week, but Claudia said I could stay longer if I needed to. But if that’s changed…” She trailed off, swallowing hard.
Wayne patted her shoulder. “Naw, sugar, that ain’t changed. You can stay long as you like. Fact is”— he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly bashful— “fact is, what we really want is to keep you for good.”
~~~
Next Time I Fall:
Gareth couldn’t imagine having to grow up without his mom and dad. He thought of the way Janie held so tightly to his mom every time they hugged, and a lump formed in his throat.
“They never found your parents?” he whispered. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”
Honestly, he hadn’t even thought before speaking, he’d just blurted that out. But somehow it had been the right thing to say; Eddie and Chrissy’s tense expressions melted into something that looked like relief, and Janie’s crushing grip on his hand finally relaxed a little. Gareth laced his fingers through hers, giving her hand a little squeeze, before gently turning it to examine the small number tattooed on the inside of her wrist.
“Is that where this came from?” He lifted her hand to his lips, softly kissing the tiny 011. “Did they do that to you in the Lab?”
She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “It was my name,” she murmured. “That is why everyone calls me El. El is short for Eleven.”
Fucking hell. Gareth felt tears running down his cheeks, too.
~~~
Lost and Found:
“Jane, you need to wake up!” Kali tried unsuccessfully not to shout. “You really are naive! They can always take you if they really want you. You need to face facts. Your policeman cannot protect you, you have to be able to protect yourself. Are your friends helping you with that? Is your boyfriend? No, they just want you to be ‘normal’. They want you to suppress your gifts instead of using them, and they want you to forget who you are and where you came from. And if I stay here they’ll do the same to me. Putting on their hypocritical smiles as long as I convert to their idea of normal. I don’t want to hide who I am, and neither should you, Jane. You can’t heal by hiding. The only way to heal is to face up to the truth, confront and conquer your past.”
“Stop calling me naive,” Jane snapped, “just because I am trying to accept my past instead of confronting it. I confronted Papa face to face, and then I let him die, and it did not change anything. All your revenge has not changed you either.” Just as quickly as her anger flared up, it dissipated again. Her voice softened, her entire demeanor settling into something more gentle. “You talk a lot about healing, but you are still so mad, Kali. I think I am more healed than you are. Maybe if you stayed here, as part of my family, maybe that can heal you like it did for me.”
5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:
I love every single comment I get, truly I do. But I think the ones that made me smile the most this year were the few on Next Time I Fall that basically said ‘I never would’ve considered El and Gareth together but your fic made me ship them’. Is there any greater compliment? 😄
6. A time when writing was really, really hard:
Basically the last eight weeks have been awful. I got covid, and had barely recovered from that when a family emergency happened and I was thrown into the role of caregiver, and since then just more and more stuff keeps going wrong. I’m exhausted and honestly in a pretty dark place, mentally and emotionally, right now.
And yet. In spite of that I finished both Next Time and Lost and Found. Neither of them seem to have made any great impact— I barely even got any comments on either finale— but it was a goal of mine to finish them both and I’m still proud I managed to achieve that.
7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:
Kali, in Lost and Found, was so much fun to explore! I rewatched “The Lost Sister” before I started writing this fic, and I realized that I still hated her obnoxious friends but Kali herself was a super interesting character with a lot of potential. I had a lot of fun digging into what might possibly make her want to reconnect with El, and what would make her feel drawn to Steve. Also it surprised me how much I ship Stali now!
8. How did you grow as a writer this year:
I learned that my stories come out better when I write them the way I want them, instead of “taking requests” and pushing the characters in directions I wouldn’t have chosen if left to my own devices. I feel like certain parts of Little Help suffered because of this, so I resolved I’d stick to my own plans for Next Time and later Lost and Found, and I think those two fics came out better for it.
9. How do you hope to grow next year:
Next year, if I write any more, I want to somehow learn not to be so obsessed with stats. Stop comparing my kudos/comments count to other fics and feeling sad and inadequate. I have no idea how to accomplish this, but it’s where I need to be if I’m going to keep writing.
10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):
Oh it’s 1000% @pearlypairings — she’s been all of the above for me and so much more! Lost and Found would never have happened without her, and Next Time would likely have been abandoned unfinished.
11. Anything in your real life show up in your writing this year:
Lots of things, yeah, I don’t think I can help adding little bits and pieces of myself to my stories. I write the kind of world I’d like to see, and populate it with characters I either want to be like or wish I’d had in my own life.
A very silly specific example, though, is that I made Eddie adopt a kitten because I lost my cat last year and I missed her so much.
12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:
Um. Not really? I don’t think I’m good enough yet to be passing on wisdom to others!!!
13. Any new projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:
I have a couple fun ideas jotted down in my Plot Bunnies folder, but no definite plans to start anything new right now. I gotta get out of this awful headspace before I can even think about new projects.
14. Tag three writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read:
@sokkas-first-fangirl @bratanimus @slowandsteddie
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Good Intentions (Homelander x OC)
1.4k words |
Ask Prompt: Hiii!!! Hello!!! Sorry to take up your time but could you write a short drabble about Homelander trying to be supportive of Ben being trans and kinda over doing it? He's confused but he has got the spirit.
It’s not that it wasn’t sweet, it’s just… it was overly affirming.
Ben had caught onto it roughly a day or two ago. Before that, he'd explained to Homelander the concept of dysphoria– about why he sometimes felt so low and could barely crawl out of bed, why intimacy was a no-go until he felt better. Told him that the best thing he can do is just be supportive. John had taken it well enough, doted on him, snuggled up behind him and unleashed a myriad of compliments– some good, some downright cheesy. It was fine.
Totally fine.
The next day, Homelander did something out of the ordinary.
“There’s my boyfriend!” He chirped, engulfing Benjamin in a hug just outside the bedroom door.
While it had been delightful to hear him finally say it out loud, it was odd. It took a few more utterances of the word for Ben to finally think he was overdoing it.
“Only the best for my boyfriend!” Homelander declared as he motioned to the array of food littering Ben’s kitchen counter. “Figured you wouldn’t be in the mood to cook for yourself, so I had the chefs make you up a little something.”
Ben thanked him and nibbled lazily at a sandwich as he listened to Homelander drone on about the new ratings posts, gloating about his rise and The Deep’s drop.
“And you, Mister Benjamin, are up by fucking three whole points! Three!” He exclaimed, patting the top of Ben’s hand, beaming grin shining brighter than the sun.
The bug stared at him groggily, mid bite on his sandwich.
“Of course, I’d expect nothing less from my boyfriend.”
Ben bit through his food and opted to ignore the repetition. It wasn't unlike John to fixate on certain things sometimes. Perhaps he’d adjusted to finally naming their relationship and wanted to run full speed with the title. Ultimately, it wasn’t that big of a deal.
The next time the two encountered each other beyond the confines of their respective suites was on the perches of the Chrysler Building. This had been their spot since they were simply friends, and they often met up during their work breaks to banter. This time, however, Homelander was excited to show Benjamin something.
“Like it?” Homelander asked, holding his suit flap down. “The corporate clowns would lose their fucking minds if they saw me repping a flag that wasn’t Old Glory, but this way I can get away with it.
Ben gave a lopsided grin, chuckling a little as he thumbed at the plastic flag.
“A trans pride pin?” He asked. It was touching, but he was certainly wondering why Homelander felt it was necessary.
“It’s for you!” He answered before Ben could even ask. “Just showin’ some support.”
Admittedly, Ben found it extremely touching. He stood on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Homelander’s cheek, then another to his lips.
“You’re sweet,” Benjamin murmured against his lips. “Thank you.”
This had been so ordinarily kind that Ben hadn’t even put two and two together.
Not until Homelander barged into his apartment with a basket full of varying scar care creams did he begin to realize what was going on.
“I had the doctors give me a list of all the best scar gels out there for you,” Homelander explained as he picked through the products. “I dunno what half of this shit even means, but Dr. Edi said they’ll help with pigmentation and uh… other things that I really didn’t fuckin’ listen to.”
“John, I–”
“Nope!” Homelander cut Ben off, pressing a finger to his lips. “You better use ‘em, or I’ll do it for you.”
“That’s not even a good threat,” Ben whined against Homelander’s thumb, smooching it between sentences. “Thank you and all, but why’d you do all this anyway?”
Homelander blinked and cocked his head.
“You said you worry about people seeing your scars sometimes.” He said as though it were obvious. “These’ll help.”
Ben wasn’t really one for scar gel routines. Not that he didn’t appreciate it, he just wasn’t overly proactive with it.
“I… Thanks, babe.” Ben murmured, taking Homelander’s hand in his. “I appreciate you.”
Now that struck him as odd. He could understand why Homelander would get the idea for it, but it was just a strange thing to have gone out of his way over– especially to such an extent. There must have been at least 30 different products in that basket! Besides, he was five years post op. At this point, the scars were just going to be whatever they would be.
That didn’t stop Homelander from hounding him at night over using the creams, nor going the extra mile and applying it himself when his little spider was too lazy to take care of himself.
Ben just chalked that up to being an excuse for John to rub his hands all over him. And that was fine until about the third instance.
“Your chest is so flat,” Homelander complimented as he massaged the gel into the off-colored lines. He was straddling the wall crawlers waist, practically holding him down to make sure the regimen was followed before bed.
“Okay,” Ben breathed a laugh, taking Homelander by the wrists with a gentle yet firm grip. “What are you doing?”
He wasn’t mad, and he was careful not to let his tone even insinuate it.
“Applying your gel, silly!” John lilted. “Why, does it hurt? Did I push too hard? I know you said your ribs can be tender to touch with the lack of tissue and–”
“No, I mean… What’s with you lately?” The web-head nudged him back and sat upright to look at him properly. “I mean, you’re sweet, don’t get me wrong– and I love you, but like…”
Ben took a second to kiss Homelander’s knuckles, just to reassure him.
“Okay, maybe I’m crazy, but I feel like you’re fixating on my whole being trans thing.”
“Am I doing it wrong?” Homelander sighed, expression falling, brow furrowing in confusion.
“No– I mean, kind of, but no!” Ben lowered his arms to wrap around Homelander’s waist, mostly to comfort him, but also because he was almost afraid his love would run off if he got the wrong idea about where this was going. “I know you’re trying to be supportive, and I fucking adore that– I adore you, but just… relax.”
All things considered, given the fact Homelander’s upbringing was the way it was and that he’s likely never had a genuinely supportive person in his life before they’d met, it was impressive that he’d gone as overboard as he did without getting entirely out of pocket.
“But you said the best thing I can do is support you.” Confusion laced his tone. “Now you don’t want that?”
“That’s not–” Ben began, but chuckled. “It’s just a little too supportive, y’know? Like, support can mean just being there. Loving someone, being a shoulder to lean on. And yeah, sometimes it can mean slathering my chest in gel because I forgot, but you don’t have to like, go out of your way to call me your boyfriend every other second or buy whole stores out of their scar products. Just be there. You’re enough without all the extra stuff, yeah?”
As soon as the line about buying out products left Ben’s lips, Homelander took on an especially guilty look.
“...What’d you do?”
Benjamin fought off the smile, fully unprepared for whatever he was going to admit to.
“I, uh…” Homelander began slowly, his own face cracking into a grin. “Might have a whole fuckin’ smorgasbord of those fake dick stuffers showing up here tomorrow.”
A pause, then both crumbled into laughter.
“Not the fuckin’ build-a-dick station!” Ben cackled, falling back against the bed as he muffled his laughs with his hands. “Babe! I don’t even use packers!”
Homelander leaned down to move Ben’s hands, pressing pecks to his face as they settled into little giggles.
“Look, I was googling stuff and it sounded like a good idea!”
“Oh my god,” Ben teased. “My dinosaur used a search engine?”
“Hush!”
Ben simply smiled and shut his eyes, head nodding from side to side. He laced his arms around Homelander’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss.
The gestures were kind even if they were a little overkill. But, truly, was that so bad? What a blessing indeed to have a partner so utterly caring that he’d order a hundred fake dicks just to show his support.
“Johnny, Johnny, Johnny,” He lilted. “You are something else.”
#homelander#homelander fanfiction#homelander x oc#the benlander agenda#request#this was fun hehehehe
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HEEEY I just, uh, you know maybe you could write something with Noise from Pizza Towe? I'm absolutely in love with this jerk, especially without the costume ☠️☠️maybe headcanons on what it's like to be in a relationship with him?
Oh but of course! I always have time to write for our silly little freak (affectionate)
Being in a relationship with The Noise [Gender-Neutral! Reader]
Noise has plenty of experience with one-off flings left and right and short-term relationships that only survive to the three-month mark. He’s practically a natural at it! However long-term relationships with someone he really-really-really-really likes are quite some uncharted territory for him. Of course, your boy Theodore won't just admit that so you just have to see the evidence for yourself. At first, he’s definitely more of an annoying roommate than an actual boyfriend. Doesn’t clean up after himself, is loud when you try to sleep/work, and worst of all steals your food without even asking. But he’s willing to do better if he really cares about you, you just might have to push/remind him a little to get on with his chores, and he’ll get to it then (Perhaps not without a bit of back talking).
His love language is definitely a physical touch. It's damn near impossible for him to get his hands off of his partner. Even while you two sleep, he still finds a way to worm himself next to you, arms wrapped tightly around you. However, despite this, he rejects any form of affection that is considered soft while out in public. He’s got a reputation to keep up with babe! He can’t throw all of that out the window!
But don’t be fooled! He can be a softy at times but much like a feral cat, it takes some work (and some hissing). It’s a rare sight to see him in a calm state unless you know the totally-super-secret-didn’t-made-it-up-on-the-spot Noise-Chill-Out™ technique. It’s quite a simple technique really, it's quite a surprise no one has figured it out but petting his hair of all things gets him very sleepy. In which a sleepy Noise is a cuddly Noise, never forget it. (And he purrs too! Score!)
Noise is a show-off - so naturally that rubs off onto his partner as well. He loves showing you off and brags about your skills for you, exaggerating them only a tiny bit. (“Yeah, my partner just painted the Sistine Chapels, no big deal.” “Theo please-”). He always has a hand somewhere on you to as he doe so as well, just his sly way of saying that you're his. And forbid it if anyone talks smack towards you - they’ll receive a beating so hard it’ll make them come running back home to ma!
[Deviating a bit but just so you know, if you're trying out a new outfit - any outfit, a dress/suit, hell even something casual that shows a bit of skin, Noise is pulling out the whole heart-eyes, tongue rolling shebang!]
Still, despite his flaunting of you, he still gets horribly jealous. And by god is he horrible at hiding it too. You could be talking to anyone - a old friend, coworker, hell some stranger - and suddenly here comes your man, walking up behind you and pulling you in close by your waist - and oh man, if he’s really jealous - will give you the smooch–st kiss imaginable before loudly announcing you as his partner. Worst part: He won’t ever admit he was jealous in the first place. What an guy can’t just kiss his partner? Man is he the worst at times.
Goes over the top with dates (Fireworks, canons, vandalism - the whole deal!), and it's not a good date in his book if at least one person is not in critical condition (Your positive he has more counts of vehicular manslaughter from your dates then whatever illegal shit he committed in the Tower) … yeah might be best if you plan dates instead (and for the all the innocent pedestrians walk to your designated date.).
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I’ve been depressed so I decided to do what normal people do when they’re depressed and make a list of my favorite Legend of Zelda fanfics thus far. I think I’ll make a Linked Universe one next.
Almost all of these fics are finished and most are multi chapter. Some are quite long too. I also tried to include a variety of ships and stuff. I’m a multi-opportunity shipper, what can I say?
I know a few of the authors are here on Tumblr but I can’t for the life of me find them. So if anyone knows the usernames of the authors so I can tag them I’d appreciate it.
Anyway…
*cracks knuckles*
1. Make a Wish, Make it Count by LiliansMalice
Three very different people get forced to work together to find a powerful relic that can grant them wishes and solve their (admittedly pretty bad) problems.
It’s got angst, it’s got humor, it’s got found family vibes. And demons. Lots and lots of demons. Such a good read y’all need to check it out. Also, if anyone knows of any more fics like this let me know!
2. Honor Among Thieves by DawnTheRithmatist
The Master Sword has been stolen and as things start to go missing around the castle Zelda decides to do some digging which ends up with her becoming pen pals with a wanted thief.
Zelink fic which Link goes full rogue and koroks are eager accomplices.
3. Beating Around the Bush by Umbreonix
Revali retires from the air force and becomes a remote bush pilot. His life is all well and good (if boring) until a slightly feral researcher from the University of Central Hyrule derails his entire life.
This fic is genuinely hilarious and also heartwarming. Umbreonix writes Revali so well. Revlink fic with a modern spin. (Side note, the fic “Finding Link” by the same author is also really good)
4. Displaced by Socksock
What do you do once you’ve saved the day? Yeah, Link and Zelda don’t know either. But Link has monsters to kill and cool new outfits to find and Zelda has massive bridges to rebuild and loyal knights to smooch so they’ll be ok.
This was one of the first fics I read after beating BOTW. Novel length Zelink goodness with lots of humor and healing and Link dressing up like Tingle because he’s like that.
5. K.K. Love Song by Socksock
Anything by Socksock is gonna be great but this fic literally kept me sane while I was working on site during the Pandemic. Oklahoma be like that.
Modern Zelink fic where the hot new Shiekah Slate game Animal Crossing brings a Princess and a cook closer together. Link apparently does a good KK impression.
6. Nothing More, Nothing Less by Farbsturz
Ravio, Bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom, must head to Hyrule to help it’s Hero defeat the Calamity. Ravio, Bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom, is not sure about this.
Ravio plays Breath of the Wild. Or- the Ravlink fic you didn’t know you wanted.
7. The Queen’s Tournament by AshleysWrittenWords
In order to become Queen, Princess Zelda must marry. Zelda’s plan? Part 1: Host a tournament were the winner gets her hand in marriage. Part 2: Enter said tournament in disguise so she can, to quote Merida from Brave “shoot for her own hand”. And it all goes according to plan until Link decides to enter the tourney as well.
I THINK I might have read this, or something very similar, once upon a time on Fanfiction.net. Twilight Princess-ish Zelink.
8. Branded by Embyrinitalics
In a land haunted by war, two lonely people find solace within each other.
This one’s got a somber vibe to it, but it’s beautifully written and it hits me in the shipper feels so yeah.
9. The Wolf of Farore by Wayward_Chronicler
The Legend of Zelda meets The Witcher in a fic that is technically not finished but has 71 chapters and more character cameos than you can swing a sword at.
Long fic fam this one’s for you. 😘
10. Interim by Starkraving
Link and Zelda have just defeated the Calamity and are wandering Hyrule when they meet a strangely familiar Gerudo who wants to buy Link’s giant horse and has no idea what he’s about to get roped into.
The Link/Zelda/Gan fic filled with angst, humor and lots of Gerudo grammar lessons.
This was the other fic I read right after beating BOTW. Fair warning- its rated E so it’s got spicy parts to it. But if you don’t mind that it’s a fantastic read.
11. Re-Domestication by AnthemXIX
The description says it best: “A semi-feral amnesiac and his wolf guardian try to get along with the locals.”
A really good BOTW Link and Wolf Link fic that isn’t Linked Universe related (Though the author has written several really good LU fics as well). It’s part of a series and they’re all really good.
12. Secrets of the Shadows by @skyloftian-nutcase
When Link goes missing, Rusl finds a wolf instead of his adopted son and ends up making a terrible mistake. Hopefully he can make it to Kakariko in time to rectify it.
Papa Rusl angst because it’s good for the soul.
#hope you guys enjoy!#and please let me know if any of the authors are on tumble#make lists makes me feel less like banging my head against the wall just to release endorphins#long post#Legend of Zelda#The Legend of Zelda#LOZ#BOTW#Twilight Princess#fanfiction#AU
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“Have you ever kissed someone before?” Shelby asks, tapping her fingers against her cheek. She’s trying to build a tower of cards with magic.
“Yeah,” Joey replies, just as the tower comes crashing down.
“Not Katherine, I mean,” Shelby clarifies.
“Yeah,” Joey agrees.
Shelby squints at him. “Or Jimmy,” she adds.
Joey makes a face from where he’s taking apart his spare gun for the fourth time. “… You can’t keep adding people,” he tells her.
“That’s a no,” Shelby recognizes. “That’s fine. I’ve never kissed anyone.”
Joey’s head snaps up to look at her. “For real?
“Yeah. Not a lot of people to kiss when you get bullied a lot. And then if I wasn’t sucking at school, I was trying really hard to not suck at school. Busy life for a hot witch like me.” She huffed, then waved her wand again, piling cards up, bit by bit.
“I mean, Shelby, not to imply anything-“
“Isn’t that all you’re good for?”
“-but, you objectively are really hot.”
“I get to call myself hot,” Shelby tells him. “You gotta find some other words, fishboy.”
“You’re pretty. You’re strong. Golden eyes are pretty fuckin’ cool, girl. And you’re telling me no one ever wanted to kiss you?”
The card tower falls again and Shelby falls back onto her bed. “Yeah, Joe! That’s what I’m saying! Can I make fun of you now?”
“I’m not making fun, Shelby, I’m just… Do you want your first kiss?”
Shelby sits up to glare at him. A card rises from its spot on the floor and smacks him flat in the face. “Not with you, that’s for sure.”
“Cheers to that!” Joey agrees raising his lukewarm fruit punch. “I don’t want to kiss you either. I was more talking about getting Katherine? She kisses me for funzies all the time, I bet she’d be willing to give you a smooch.”
Shelby’s face turns bright red. “Oh, I don’t know if I can do that… I still have a crush on her, you know.”
“I do know! Actually!” Joey tells her. “We talk about it all the time!”
Another card in his face.
“Stop that. Anyway, doesn’t having a crush on her make it even better? Like! Your first kiss is with a girl you like! That’s great!”
Shelby presses her hands to her cheeks. “But what if I like it too much! She’s never gonna like me back…”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I don’t know why we’re bringing the whole ‘she won’t like you back,’ into it. I know she won’t. You know she won’t. Apparently you can’t just stop having feelings for her - that still sounds fake, by the way-“ Joey rolls his eyes, as if he thinks she’s been lying to him about it for the past month, “-So why not just go about life as normal?”
“And normal life includes asking her to kiss me?”
“When you’re me, it does!”
Shelby scrunches up her face. “You’re weird.”
“You’re weird!” Joey shoots back.
“Weaaakk,” Shelby sings, and then starts cackling when Joey leaps onto the bed to wrestle with her.
Five minutes later, they’re giggling and only a little bit bruised. Joey does that big sigh that means he’s done laughing and wants to say something, so Shelby quiets to listen.
“Tomorrow morning we’re gonna go ask Katherine to kiss you,” he says.
Shelby smacks him lightly. “I really wanna throw you in the pond. Can I throw you in the pond?”
“Is that a yes?”
“I’m gonna throw you in the pond.”
Shelby rolls over and stands, then throws him over her shoulders and starts down the ladder. It’s a game they’ve perfected over many sleepovers, and in less than a minute, he’s splashing around the amethyst pond, fins fluttering in excitement. Shelby dusts off her hands, and pretends to get spooked when he grabs at her ankle.
“Fish boy!” she yells as she dips a toe into the water and kicks.
“Witch!” Joey calls as he rears back to make as big a splash he can.
(They head back inside, soaking wet and amused. The next morning, they’ll go over to Katherine’s and Joey will tell Katherine that Shelby wants her first kiss to be from someone she trusts. And someone who isn’t Joey.
Katherine will oblige, a humoured smile on her lips, and Shelby will blink rapidly for a couple seconds after. “Thanks,” will be the stupid first word to come out of her mouth afterwards.
On the way to Eversea, Shelby will tell Joey that it didn’t actually feel like all that big of a deal. Joey will laugh, and tell her that it’s because it wasn’t that big of a deal. The only difference now is that she’s kissed someone. “Not that big of a difference overall, is it?” Joey will say.
Shelby will touch her fingers to her lips thoughtfully. “No. I guess not!”)
#[written in stone]#UHHHHH HI. this has no real point i just wanted to think about them#shelby shubble#joey graceffa#empires smp#empires smp 2#everduo
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Just rewatched the last episode bc I wanted to break my own heart again.
And I just. Idk how long they’ll have before next season and the timeline, or even how much time passed between Ava entering the other side and Bea leaving the church…
But I just imagined Bea ending up in Switzerland again. She manages for Hans again. Hans assumes Ava’s not there because a breakup, and he only asks once what happened after several lemon drop shots and Bea just says, “I had to let her go.” Hans remembered (even in his equally as drunk state) the tears that fell which she quickly hid and wiped away. He never asked her again because he hated the sadness he saw in her eyes.
Months later, Hans threatens to demote Bea if she doesn’t take a damn break and/or go on a date. And Bea meets this woman and she is lovely. Truly. They start to date and Bea feels so guilty, for the moments she finds herself thinking of Ava, when this woman makes her laugh and forget her past, and worst of all, when she doesn’t think about Ava for almost a whole day.
Then Ava returns and just. The way they look at each other when they first lay eyes on each other. And this woman who always knew Bea would never be hers says her goodbyes to Bea. “She’s the light I could never bring you.”
Then they smooch and stuff and get ready for a big ass war of gods. Boom!
Anyway I’m going to make it through this winter by dissociating into little Avatrice headcanons and AUs.
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Saltwater and the Stars Above.
summary — meet the family xx
warnings/tags — female reader, use of she/her pronouns and y/n, nothing too descriptive about the reader, fluff, mentions of family members who have passed away, changes from 3rd to 2nd person, dogfight football, the slightest bit of hangster/sereshaw if you squint. @waklman *gives you the biggest smooch* ily <3
note — a short and sweet next generation tg:m fic that I hope you all fall in love with. i’d love to have added some more of their banter especially with the introductions so you can see how they all fit together but I started writing and it ended up being a lot softer which I have no complaints about. hopefully I get to turn this into a series of sorts so you all get to see more from them! love you all xx
word count — 1.1k words
The Texan sky had never looked brighter cuddling in the back of Lucas Bradley Seresin’s pick-up truck, the stars shining down on the couple, twinkling as if to almost wink at a secret they didn’t know yet.
They revelled in the silence of the night, listening to the sounds of the crickets chirping in the background, one they’ve both missed from the hustle and bustle of college.
It was different from what Y/n was used to, but a good different nonetheless, and one she wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.
“Come with me?” The couple had been spending their last moments together before Lucas headed off to Miramar for the summer to visit his extended family who were all permanently stationed at the naval air base there along with his father.
Y/n shifted onto her side to look at him as he turned to face her, tucking a stray hair behind her ear and placing a kiss to the crease between her eyebrows. “I can hear you thinking from here, talk to me darlin’ what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Along with most things, Lucas had also inherited his Southern charm from his father (don’t tell his uncle Bradley that, he claims to be the only source behind Lu’s charisma and manners).
“I want you there. And if you’re worrying if they’ll like you or not, I promise they will.” She opened her mouth in protest before Lucas continued with, “You’ve already met my dad, and all our biological family on his side, and they all love you, maybe even more than me. And we went to visit mum.. I know she would’ve loved you.” Their eyes softened at the mention of his mother, Y/n placing a gentle peck to his lips, “The guys and Phoe will adore you just as much, if not even more.” She smiled softly, chuckling and groaning playfully at his puppy eyes and the small please at the end, definitely inherited from Bradley. “I’d love to meet them.” His green eyes lit up, a couple of disbelieving “really’s” leaving his lips before they were on every inch of Y/n’s face causing her to erupt into a symphony of giggles.
The smell of salt water brought back a wave of memories as they flew down the remaining roads, only a couple of miles away from the Hard Deck where they’d all decided to meet up. Lucas glanced over at his girlfriend, her hair dancing in the breeze from the open windows of his truck, wide smiles on both their faces as he squeezed her hand three times.
The couple made their way to the bar hand in hand, his thumb drawing slow circles into the back of her palm to ease her anxiety. The Hard Deck was blooming with life as they walked in, laughter echoing from every inch and out into the ocean from the open patio doors. A man with glasses and a soft smile on his face, who she assumed was Bob from the many stories she’d heard from both Seresin’s, noticed them first and moved to notify Jake. The blonde passed his pool cue to the man before moving towards the door to greet the couple, arms wrapping around them both in a hug. It helped ease her tension tenfold, warmly greeting the man, as he moved between them, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders to guide them towards group for introductions.
It was inevitable with the open patio doors overlooking the beach and the ocean, that they’d end up playing dogfight football, Y/n being dragged into a couple rounds on the opposite team to Lucas, something about Payback and Fanboy claiming it was an unfair advantage to pair the couple up.
With her aviators barely shielding the hot Californian sun, Y/n decided to step out to help Penny and Javy’s wife with the food and drinks. Unbeknownst to Y/n, Bradley had also stepped out after her, which elicited multiple complaints from most of the aviators as he made his way towards the bar. Jake placed a reassuring hand on his son’s back, stopping him from joining them, a knowing look twinkling in his eyes.
“Here, let me help you with that.” The girl almost dropped the cooler in surprise as he easily grabbed it from her and began to make his way back outside to where they’d decided to set up lunch. She moved to help Penny with anything else she may need but paused when Rooster spoke, “Walk with me?”
The waves crashing against the shoreline made up for the peaceful silence. It hadn’t been as scary as she’d originally thought and there was a sort of calmness between them as she studied him, recognising some of Lucas’ mannerisms from Bradley.
“I’m happy he’s got you, you know?” He paused for a moment, considering what to say, “That they’ve both got you. They’re lucky to have you.” They both studied the sun reflecting off the waves. “I’m lucky to have them too, just as they’re lucky to have you.”
“My parents they, well Jake’s probably told you, but they passed away when I was younger and I guess family never really felt like anything until I met them, and all of you, so thank you.”
Bradley paused his movements, he knew exactly how you felt and was overcome with the sudden urge to take you under his wing. He always struggled talking about his parents and although that had gotten better over time, it had never felt as easy as it had now, telling you, but also telling you that everything was going to be okay, that they were up there in the skies looking down on you, that all those rowdy aviators on the beach were just as much as your family as anyone else’s and they were happy to have you as a part of theirs. Bradley had never meant or believed in anything more than what he told you then on the beach, wrapping you in a hug as you both struggled to hold back your tears, walking back towards the group with huge smiles on your faces, cracking jokes, feeling just that little bit lighter.
Lucas cupped your face in his hands, turning it over and checking if you were okay as you let out a stream of giggles, pecking him on the lips with promises that you’ll tell him later as you pulled him to the table. You took a glance backwards, seeing Jake nod at Bradley with an understanding look, slapping him on the shoulder as they made their way over.
There, seated at the table, they were your family now and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
#drew writes!#tg:m#tg:m fluff#top gun au#next gen au#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#seresin x reader#lucas bradley seresin x reader#<3
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