#square has them running so scared it’s ridiculous

[stevethehairington]

okay so, maddie pov fic where maddie has just managed to f i n a l l y get buck to admit to her that he has feelings for eddie (and, like, she's tried to tiptoe around it — as much as one can tiptoe around a giant ass elephant that sits square in the center of every single room, incredibly obvious and ridiculously hard to ignore).

she's been trying to let buck come to her with it on his own time, at his own pace... but she's getting impatient. she knows that buck is aware of his feelings now — there had been a time, a l o n g time, where he hadn't, long enough that maddie had tried to, like, give him little nudges towards it, to prompt him into realizing it for himself, only he'd n e v e r taken the bait. he'd always just continued on, oblivious as ever. it had driven maddie positively crazy.

but now. NOW, she is sure that he knows. and her sister sense are tingling, because she also knows that he wants to talk to her about it — but he's scared. if maddie had to take a guess it was because these are, like, the realest feelings buck has ever had. she's seen him in love before, but not like this. this is something way bigger than love, really. and maddie gets that, she does. it had felt that way with chimney, for her. she'd spent so long avoiding facing her feelings head on, trying not to say it out loud because that made it real and when it's real that's when bad things can happen. that's when it gets scary.

and so she'd let buck sit with it for a while, let him have his time to jump that hurdle himself. only now it's been weeks, over a month, really, and enough is enough. maddie feels, maybe, just a little bad to just confront him with it, to say it point blank to his face... but then again, that's what buck did with her and chimney, so she really can't feel too bad.

BUT. ANYWAY. buck f i n a l l y tells her that, yes, he has feelings for eddie. except immediately after he says it, he bounces. drops some super lame excuse and is out her front door before maddie can even blink. and god, that was like pulling teeth, but maddie did not spend all that time suffering silently under the weight of her own knowledge for it to cumulate in a ten second conversation — barely even a conversation, actually.

so maddie pulls out her phone to text buck, to tell him this isn't over, he can run but he can't hide from her, they WILL be talking about this some more. and, idk, maybe maddie just got a new phone, or it updated on its own, and somehow all of her message threads got wiped, so she has to start a new one. she has buck in her phone as 'evan' for whatever reason, and so she types in 'e' and hits the first contact that comes up — because buck is the only favorited 'e' contact she has, and that automatically bumps him to the top of the rest — and she types out the message, "buck!!! we are not done talking about your feelings for eddie!!!" and sends it without a second glance.

a few minutes later she gets a response, and at first she's confused. staring back at her from her screen is either a string of ???? or a 'i don't think you meant to send this to me...' and that's when maddie takes the time to finally look at who, exactly, she did send it too and oh.

oh.

oh no.

she didn't send it to buck. she sent it to eddie.

because — that's right, buck was hanging out with christopher the other day, and maddie had tagged along, and buck had insisted on taking a picture of the three of them to send to eddie, only his phone connection was shit, and the photo wasn't sending, so he made maddie give him her phone so he could plug eddie's number in and send it to him from hers (and, unbeknownst to her, buck had favorited eddie's contact too, because if eddie is buck's favorite, then of course he'd be his sisters favorite too. duh.) and because 'ed' comes before 'ev', eddie's name had jumped to the top of maddie's contacts.

so, she had not, in fact, hit buck's contact like she'd thought, but eddie's. and now she's just spilled her brother's b i g g e s t secret to the very object of it.

shit.

and then, of course, eddie's like freaking out on his end because holy shit is that real, could it really be true? does that mean he actually stands a chance? that his own feelings aren't totally hopeless? and maybe he tries to like press maddie about it, to get her to confirm that it's real and isn't some like totally massive super mean prank or anything (or that they weren't talking about some other eddie or something), and like he goes so far as to show up at her door to talk to her about it — which is how maddie catches onto eddie's (returned) feelings, because no man would be that desperate for an answer unless that answer was something he really wanted to hear.

and maddie's like caught between a rock and a hard place, because she doesn't want to make things worse and spill everything to eddie because that is not her place! shes already messed up bad enough. but also... now she's sharing a room with EDDIE'S big ass elephant of feelings, and she knows that if she does tell him that it's true that might be the push he needs to do something about it. (because every time she suggests he just talk to buck about it, eddie pushes back with a 'but is it true?')

and blah blah, eventually, in the end the truth of it all has to come out and buck finds out that maddie fucked up and hes upset until he isnt becuase that did finally prompt eddie to come clean about his feelings, and so "really, buck, it's a good thing i sent that message! you two would've been dancing around each other for who knows how many more years if i havent!"

[tosahobi-if]

what are the ro's favourite tropes!!

sorry anon i couldn’t figure out exactly what you meant by this so i took it to mean their favorite fictional tropes! please feel free to correct me if i’m wrong ( ´ ꒳ ` )

jinwol isn’t really into a specific trope, though he adores animals (his life’s biggest tragedy is that most of them hate his guts) so he tends to gravitate towards stories or fables that feature anthropomorphic animals. he likes the simplicity of something that has a start and an end and a lesson (or two!) though he’d rather die than admit his tastes still run a little childish.

yul also falls into the category of "doesn't have a specific genre or trope" they prefer in fiction, but they love absorbing dense texts pertaining to historical events or manuals. they're a non-fiction stan through and through HAHAHA

iseul loves trashy romance texts. she'll go as far as to hide them in her cultivation manuals when she's supposed to be studying (she hasn't fooled anyone) but she's grown up with all sorts of fairytales and epics about great heroes. her favorites are the really convoluted, ridiculous love-triangle-square-whatever stories that are far longer than they ever needed to be and make zero narrative sense. they're a guilty pleasure.

??? is a poetry fiend, but they used to delight in scaring village children with ghost tales about murdered spouses and wronged criminals, etc. they're a great storyteller and tend to lean towards the macabre, though their enjoyment comes out of seeing the reactions of their audience than anything else.

[timefortwig]

Arc 3 - Chapter 2

Hello again. It's time to get into chapter 2 of Arc 3. Sorry about not updating in so long, life eviscerated me, much like that scientist at the end of the last chapter. But let us press on regardless.

The Lambs are trapped in the bowels as they are sealed off, and Sy, while trapped under dozens of feet of earth and brick with some of the nastiest projects Radham has to offer, asks the others to help him avoid the blame. To be fair, if I was in Hayle's or Briggs's shoes, then I would blame Sy for any disaster that happened within 10 square miles of him. Being Lillian really is suffering, poor girl deserves to strangle Sy a little bit, as a treat.

“When I think of worst case scenarios and I think of those a lot because I work with you guys, when I think about the stuff most of it starts like this and I’m in the Bowels of the Academy,” Lillian said, and she put an awful lot of emotion into her voice at the end.

See?

“Dumbass,” I said.

SEE?!

Ok, it turns out Sy values Lillian because she's their designated normal, which makes a level of sense. Sy then proceeds to give her a pep talk which boils down to "You go girlboss" and I respect him for that.

Lillian explains that the project was named Sub Rosa, an attempt at true resurrection. I feel like I've heard that name before and thought she was a character from Pact. The more you know I guess. Sensibly, the Academy can revive the body and mind, but not the personality. There are themes there. Sub Rosa is strong, hostile, and is going further into the bowels. My guess is that a residual personality is still in her, like how the stitched sometimes react to things from their past lives.

The Lambs go to find Gorger and a swarm making doctor on the way down, going warily the whole way. As they descend through the labs, Jamie says.

“They don’t let me learn Latin, like how I’ve been forbidden to read Academy texts.  I pick some up, just like I’ve glimpsed textbook pages now and again, but I’m not sure.

That's interesting, do they keep Jamie from learning Latin so he can't decipher what some Academic terms mean from their names?

The Lambs calmly pass a group of scientists fleeing up the stairs, and I can't help but imagine what they must have thought of the gaggle of prepubescent children nonchalantly walking further into the closest approximation of Hell on Earth. Our "heroes" see the results of Sub Rosa's developing career as an interior decorator, as she had decorated the hallways with some poor souls' interiors. The team considers sacrificing one of their own to seal off a section, but Sy suggests simply talking some rando into doing it for them.

While exploring the labyrinthine lower chambers, Sy notes that a surprise party could be concealed in the darkened hallways... a party with clowns. Okay, usually I'm not that scared of clowns, but a clown in an underground lab that is host to the academy's most twisted experiments? Yeah, that'll do it. The gang is worried there's a trap, citing that Sub Rosa was a human once, and retains a level of intelligence. While trying to sensibly leave the spooky, dark, monster-clown hallway, they find Sub Rosa, trying to pull open a door. Lillian and Helen suggest running, and the others comply. Lillian explains the ridiculously unsafe safety mechanisms that the bowels use, and then Sub Rosa pulls the metal door off its hinges, mysteriously not triggering the safeguards, and murders a few more people.

Sy subtly manipulates Lillian to stay with them, until a starving pack of experiments confronts them. They make a quick escape deeper into the dungeon, but as the experiments pursue, Sy notices their prison tattoos, marking them not as vat-grown abominations, but convicts surgically altered. Yeah, I can see the Academy doing that. Sub Rosa emerges and leads the convicts, implying she's far, far more intelligent than we assumed. Just before the end of the chapter, Lillian fails to open the door, and Helen cheerily remarks that whoever was inside changed the code.

Well... fuck

Anyways, that's all for this update. Sorry about the lateness, I was busy with schoolwork, a mental breakdown, and being outed as trans to my parents. I'll try to update more frequently in the future. :3

nutshot counter |3|

[unknownhorrors]

Psychosis (2010)

Summary: John lives in a small cheap basement apartment by himself, working on his programming college project. He hasn't seen anyone for days and it is slowly starting to get to him.

Written by: Matt Dymerski (you can find more of his stories following this link).

Trigger warnings: implication of self harm near the end, but nothing gory or descriptive.

Youtube narration.

Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories posted here are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors. I do not claim any of the stories or characters here as my own unless stated that it was written by myself.

Sunday

I'm not sure why I'm writing this down on paper and not on my computer. I guess I've just noticed some odd things. It's not that I don't trust the computer... I just... need to organize my thoughts. I need to get down all the details somewhere objective, somewhere I know that what I write can't be deleted or... changed... not that that's happened. It's just... everything blurs together here, and the fog of memory lends a strange cast to things...

I'm starting to feel cramped in this small apartment. Maybe that's the problem, I just had to go and choose the cheapest apartment, the only one in the basement. The lack of windows down here makes my da and night seem to slip by seamlessly. I haven't been out in a few days because I've been working on this programming project so intensively. I suppose I just wanted to get it done. Hours of sitting and staring at a monitor can make anyone feel strange, I know, but I don't think that's it.

I'm not sure when I first started to feel like something was odd. I can't even define what it is. Maybe I just haven't talked to anyone in awhile. That's the first thing that crept up on me. Everyone II normally talk to online while I program has been idle, or they've simply not logged on at all. My instant messages go unanswered. The last e-mail i got from anybody was a friend saying he'd talk to me when he got back from the store, and that was yesterday. I'd call with my cellphone, but the reception's terrible down here. Yeah, that's it. I just need to call someone. I'm going to go outside.

------

Well, that didn't work so well. As the tingle of fear fades, I'm feeling a little ridiculous for being scared at all. I looked in the mirror before I went out, but I didn't shave the two-day stubble I've grown. I figured i was just going out for a quick cell phone call. I did change my shirt, though, because it was lunchtime, and I guessed that I'd run into at least one person I knew. That didn't end up happening. I wish it did.

When I went out, I opened the door to my small apartment slowly. A small feeling of apprehension had somehow already lodged itself in me, for some indefinable reason. I chalked it up to having not spoken to anyone but myself for a day or two. I peered down the dingy grey hallway, made dingier by the fact that it was a basement hallway. On one end, a large metal door led to the building's furnace room. It was locked, of course. Two dreary soda machines stood by it: I bought a soda from one the first day I moved in, but it had a two year old expiration date. I'm fairly sure nobody knows those machines are even down here, or my cheap landlady just doesn't care to get them restocked.

I closed my door softly, and walked the other direction, taking care not to make a sound. I have no idea why I chose to do that, but it was fun giving in to the strange impulse not to break the droning hum of the soda machines, at least for the moment. I got to the stairwell, and took the stairs up to the building's front door. I looked through the heavy door's small square window, and received quite the shock: it was definitely not lunchtime. City-gloom hung over the dark street outside, and the traffic lights at the intersection blinked yellow. Dim clouds, purple and black from the glow of the city, hung overhead. Nothing moved, save the few sidewalk trees that shifted in the wind. I remember shivering, though I wasn't cold. Maybe it was the wind outside. I could vaguely hear it through the heavy metal door, and I knew it was that unique kind of late-night wind, the kind that was constant, cold, and quiet, save for the rhythmic music it made as it passed through countless unseen tree leaves.

I decided not to go outside.

Instead , I lifted my cell phone to the door's little window, and checked the signal meter, and I smiled. The bars filled up the meter, and I smiled. Time to hear someone else's voice, I remember thinking, relieved. It was such a strange thing, to be afraid of nothing. I shook my head, laughing at myself silently. I hit speed-dial for my best friend Amy's number, and held the phone up to my ear. It rang once... but then it stopped. Nothing happened. I listened to silence for a good twenty seconds, then hung up. I frowned, and looked at the signal meter again - still full. I went to dial her number again, but then my phone rang in my hand, startling me. I put it up to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked, immediately fighting down a small shock at hearing the first spoken voice in days, even if it was m own. I had gotten used to the droning hum of the building's inner workings, my computer, and the soda machines in the hallway. There was no response to my greeting at first, but then, finally, a voice came.

"Hey," said a clear male voice, obviously of college age, like me. "Who's this?"

"John," I replied, confused.

"Oh, sorry, wrong number," he replied, then hung up.

I lowered the phone slowly and leaned against the thick brick wall of the stairwell. That was strange. I looked at my receiving calls list, but the number was unfamiliar. Before I could think on it further, the phone rang loudly, shocking me yet again. This time, I looked at the caller before I answered. It was another unfamiliar number. This time, I held the phone up to my ear, but said nothing. I heard nothing but the general background noise of a phone. Then, a familiar voice broke my tension.

"John?" was the single word, in Amy's vocie>

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey, it's you," I replied.

"Who else would it be?" she responded. "Oh, the number. I'm at a party on Seventh Street, and my phone died just as you called me. This is someone else's phone, obviously.:

"Oh, ok," I said.

"Where are you?" She asked.

My eyes glanced over the drab white-washed cylinder block walls and the heavy metal door with its small window.

"At my building," I sighed. "Just feeling cooped up. I didn't realize it was so late."

"You should come here," she said, laughing.

"Nah, I don't feel like looking for some strange place by myself in the middle of the night," I said, looking out of the window at the silent windy street that secretly scared me just a tiny bit. "I think I'm just going to keep working or go to bed."

"Nonsense!" She replied. "I can come get you! Your building is close to Seventh Street, right?"

"How drunk are you?" I asked light heartedly. "You know where I live."

"Oh, of course," she said abruptly. "I guess I can't get there by walking, huh?"

"You could if you wanted to waste half an hour," I told her.

"Right," she said. "Ok, have to go, good luck with your work!"

I lowered the phone once more, looking at the numbers flash as the call ended. Then, the droning silence suddenly reasserted itself in my ears. The two strange calls and the eerie street outside just drove home my aloneness in this empty stairwell. Perhaps from having seen too many scary movies, I had the sudden inexplicable idea that something could look in the door's window and see me, some sort of horrible entity that hovered at the edge of aloneness, just waiting to creep up on unsuspecting people that strayed too far from other human beings. I knew the fear was irrational, but nobody else was around, so... I jumped down the stairs, ran down the hallway into my room, and closed the door as swiftly as I could while still staying silent. Like I said, I feel a little ridiculous for being scared of nothing, and the fear has already faded. Writing this down helps a lot - it makes me realize that nothing is wrong. It filters out half-formed thoughts and fears and leaves only cold, hard facts. It's late, I got a call from a wrong number, and Amy's phone died, so she called me back from another number. Nothing strange is happening.

Still, there was something a little off about that conversation. I know it could have just been the alcohol she'd had... or was it even her that seemed off to me? Or was it... yes, that was it! I didn't realize it until this moment, writing these things down. I knew writing things down would help. She said she was at a party, but I only heard silence in the background! Of course, that doesn't mean anything in particular, as she could have just gone outside to make the call. No... that couldn't be it either. I didn't hear the wind! I need to see if the wind is still blowing!

-----

Monday

I forgot to finish writing last night. I'm not sure what I expected to see when I ran up the stairwell and looked out the heavy metal door's window. I'm feeling ridiculous. Last night's fear seems hazy and unreasonable to me now. I can't wait to go out into the sunlight. I'm going to check my email, shave, shower, and finally get out of here! Wait... I think I heard something.

-----

It was thunder. That whole sunlight and fresh air thing didn't happen. I went out into the stairwell and up the stairs, only to find disappointment. The heavy metal door's little window showed only flowing water, as torrential rain slammed against it. Only a very dim, gloomy light filtered in through the rain, but at least I knew it was daytime, even if it was a grey, sickly, wet day. I tried looking out the window and waiting for lightning to illuminate the gloom, but the rain was too heavy and I couldn't make out anything more than vague weird shapes moving at odd angles in the waves washing down the window. Disappointed, I turned around, but I didn't want to go back to my room. Instead, I wandered further up the stairs, past the first floor, and the second. The stairs ended at the third floor, the highest floor in the building. I looked through the glass that ran up the outer wall of the stairwell, but it was that warped, thick kind that scatters the light, not that there was much to see through the rain to begin with.

I opened the stairwell door and wandered down the hallway. The ten or so thick wooden doors, painted blue a long time ago, were all closed. I listened as I walked, but it was the middle of the day, so I wasn't surprised that I heard nothing but the rain outside. As I stood there in the dim hallway, listening to the rain, I had the strange fleeting impression that the doors were standing like silent granite monoliths erected by some ancient forgotten civilization for some unfathomable guardian purpose. Lightning flashed, and I could have sworn that, for just a moment, the old grainy blue wood looked just like rough stone. I laughed at myself for letting my imagination get the best of me, but then it occurred to me that the dim gloom and lightning must mean there was a widow somewhere in the hallway. A vague memory surfaced, and I suddenly recalled that the third floor had an alcove and an inset window halfway down the floor's hallway.

Excited to look out into the rain and possibly see another human being, I quickly walked over to the alcove, finding the large thin glass window. Rain washed down it, as with the front door's window, but I could open this one. I reached a hand out to slide it open, but hesitated. I had the strangest feeling that if I opened that window, I would see something absolutely horrifying on the other side. Everything's been so odd lately... so I came up with a plan, and I came back here to get what I needed. I don't seriously think anything will come of it, but I'm bored, it's raining, and I'm going stir crazy. I came back to get my webcam. The cord isn't long enough to reach the third floor by any means, so instead I'm going to hide it between the two soda machines in the dark end of my basement hallway, run the wire along the wall and under my door, and put black duct tape over the wire to blend it in with the black plastic strip that runs along the base of the hallway's walls. I know this is silly, but I don't have anything better to do...

Well, nothing happened. I propped open the hallway-to-stairwell door, steeled myself, then flung the heavy front door wide open and ran like hell down the stairs to my room and slammed the door. I watched the webcam on my computer intently, seeing the hallway outside my door and most of the stairwell. I'm watching it right now, and I don't see anything interesting. I just wish the camera's position was different, so that I could see out the front door. Hey! Somebody's online!

-----

I got out an older, less functional webcam that I had in my closet to video chat with my friend online. I couldn’t really explain to him why I wanted to video chat, but it felt good to see another person’s face. He couldn’t talk very long, and we didn’t talk about anything meaningful, but I feel much better. My strange fear has almost passed. I would feel completely better, but there was something… odd… about our conversation. I know that I’ve said that everything has seemed odd, but… still, he was very vague in his responses. I can’t recall one specific thing that he said… no particular name, or place, or event… but he did ask for my email address to keep in touch. Wait, I just got an email.

I’m about to go out. I just got an email from Amy that asked me to meet her for dinner at ‘the place we usually go to.’ I do love pizza, and I’ve just been eating random food from my poorly stocked fridge for days, so I can’t wait. Again, I feel ridiculous about the odd couple of days I’ve been having. I should destroy this journal when I get back. Oh, another email.

-----

Oh my god. I almost left the email and opened the door. I almost opened the door. I almost opened the door, but I read the email first! It was from a friend I hadn’t heard from in a long time, and it was sent to a huge number of emails that must have been every person he had saved in his address list. It had no subject, and it said, simply:

seen with your own eyes don’t trust them they

What the hell is that supposed to mean? The words shock me, and I keep going over and over them. Is it a desperate email sent just as… something happened? The words are obviously cut off without finishing! On any other day I would have dismissed this as spam from a computer virus or something, but the words… seen with your own eyes! I can’t help but read over this journal and think back on the last few days and realize that I have not seen another person with my own eyes or talked to another person face to face. The webcam conversation with my friend was so strange, so vague, so… eerie, now that I think about it. Was it eerie? Or is the fear clouding my memory? My mind toys with the progression of events I’ve written here, pointing out that I have not been presented with one single fact that I did not specifically give out unsuspectingly. The random ‘wrong number’ that got my name and the subsequent strange return call from Amy, the friend that asked for my email address… I messaged him first when I saw him online! And then I got my first email a few minutes after that conversation! Oh my god! That phone call with Amy! I said over the phone – I said that I was within half an hour’s walk of Seventh Street! They know I’m near there! What if they’re trying to find me?! Where is everyone else? Why haven’t I seen or heard anyone else in days?

No, no, this is crazy. This is absolutely crazy. I need to calm down. This madness needs to end.

-----

I don’t know what to think. I ran about my apartment furiously, holding my cell phone up to every corner to see if it got a signal through the heavy walls. Finally, in the tiny bathroom, near one ceiling corner, I got a single bar. Holding my phone there, I sent a text message to every number in my list. Not wanting to betray anything about my unfounded fears, I simply sent:

You seen anyone face to face lately?

At that point, I just wanted any reply back. I didn’t care what the reply was, or if I embarrassed myself. I tried to call someone a few times, but I couldn’t get my head up high enough, and if I brought my cell phone down even an inch, it lost signal. Then I remembered the computer, and rushed over to it, instant messaging everyone online. Most were idle or away from their computer. Nobody responded. My messages grew more frantic, and I started telling people where I was and to stop by in person for a host of barely passable reasons. I didn’t care about anything by that point. I just needed to see another person!

I also tore apart my apartment looking for something that I might have missed; some way to contact another human being without opening the door. I know it’s crazy, I know it’s unfounded, but what if? WHAT IF? I just need to be sure! I taped the phone to the ceiling in case

Tuesday

THE PHONE RANG! Exhausted from last night’s rampage, I must have fallen asleep. I woke up to the phone ringing, and ran into the bathroom, stood on the toilet, and flipped open the phone taped to the ceiling. It was Amy, and I feel so much better. She was really worried about me, and apparently had been trying to contact me since the last time I talked to her. She’s coming over now, and, yes, she knows where I am without me telling her. I feel so embarrassed. I am definitely throwing this journal away before anyone sees it. I don’t even know why I’m writing in it now. Maybe it’s just because it’s the only communication I’ve had at all since… god knows when. I look like hell, too. I looked in the mirror before I came back in here. My eyes are sunken, my stubble is thicker, and I just look generally unhealthy.

My apartment is trashed, but I’m not going to clean it up. I think I need someone else to see what I’ve been through. These past few days have NOT been normal. I am not one to imagine things. I know I have been the victim of extreme probability. I probably missed seeing another person a dozen times. I just happened to go out when it was late at night, or the middle of the day when everyone was gone. Everything’s perfectly fine, I know this now. Plus, I found something in the closet last night that has helped me tremendously: a television! I set it up just before I wrote this, and it’s on in the background. Television has always been an escape for me, and it reminds me that there’s a world beyond these dingy brick walls.

I’m glad Amy’s the only one that responded to me after last night’s frantic pestering of everyone I could contact. She’s been my best friend for years. She doesn’t know it, but I count the day that I met her among one of the few moments of true happiness in my life. I remember that warm summer day fondly. It seems a different reality from this dark, rainy, lonely place. I feel like I spent days sitting in that playground, much too old to play, just talking with her and hanging around doing nothing at all. I still feel like I can go back to that moment sometimes, and it reminds me that this damn place is not all that there is… finally, a knock on the door!

-----

I thought it was odd that I couldn’t see her through the camera I hid between the two soda machines. I figured that it was bad positioning, like when I couldn’t see out the front door. I should have known. I should have known! After the knock, I yelled through the door jokingly that I had a camera between the soda machines, because I was embarrassed myself that I had taken this paranoia so far. After I did that, I saw her image walk over to the camera and look down at it. She smiled and waved.

“Hey!” she said to the camera brightly, giving it a wry look.

“It’s weird, I know,” I said into the mic attached to my computer. “I’ve had a weird few days.”

“Must have,” she replied. “Open the door, John.”

I hesitated. How could I be sure?

“Hey, humor me a second here,” I told her through the mic. “Tell me one thing about us. Just prove to me you’re you.”

She gave the camera a weird look.

“Um, alright,” she said slowly, thinking. “We met randomly at a playground when we were both way too old to be there?”

I sighed deeply as reality returned and fear faded. God, I’d been so ridiculous. Of course it was Amy! That day wasn’t anywhere in the world except in my memory. I’d never even mentioned it to anyone, not out of embarrassment, but out of a strange secret nostalgia and a longing for those days to return. If there was some unknown force at work trying to trick me, as I feared, there was no way they could know about that day.

“Haha, alright, I’ll explain everything,” I told her. “Be right there.”

I ran to my small bathroom and fixed my hair as best I could. I looked like hell, but she would understand. Snickering at my own unbelievable behavior and the mess I’d made of the place, I walked to the door. I put my hand on the doorknob and gave the mess one last look. So ridiculous, I thought. My eyes traced over the half-eaten food lying on the ground, the overflowing trash bin, and the bed I’d tipped to the side looking for… God knows what. I almost turned to the door and opened it, but my eyes fell on one last thing: the old webcam, the one I used for that eerily vacant chat with my friend.

Its silent black sphere lay haphazardly tossed to the side, its lens pointed at the table where this journal lay. An overwhelming terror took me as I realized that if something could see through that camera, it would have seen what I just wrote about that day. I asked her for any one thing about us, and she chose the only thing in the world that I thought they or it did not know… but IT DID! IT DID KNOW! IT COULD HAVE BEEN WATCHING ME THE WHOLE TIME!

I didn’t open the door. I screamed. I screamed in uncontrollable terror. I stomped on the old webcam on the floor. The door shook, and the doorknob tried to turn, but I didn’t hear Amy’s voice through the door. Was the basement door, made to keep out drafts, too thick? Or was Amy not outside? What could have been trying to get in, if not her? What the hell is out there?! I saw her on my computer through the camera outside, I heard her on the speakers through the camera outside, but was it real?! How can I know?! She’s gone now – I screamed, and shouted for help! I piled up everything in my apartment against the front door –

Friday

At least I think that it’s Friday. I broke everything electronic. I smashed my computer to pieces. Every single thing on there could have been accessed by network access, or worse, altered. I’m a programmer, I know. Every little piece of information I gave out since this started – my name, my email, my location – none of it came back from outside until I gave it out. I’ve been going over and over what I wrote. I’ve been pacing back and forth, alternating between stark terror and overpowering disbelief. Sometimes I’m absolutely certain some phantom entity is dead set on the simple goal of getting me to go outside. Back to the beginning, with the phone call from Amy, she was effectively asking me to open the door and go outside.

I keep running through it in my head. One point of view says I’ve acted like a madman, and all of this is the extreme convergence of probability – never going outside at the right times by pure luck, never seeing another person by pure chance, getting a random nonsense email from some computer virus at just the right time. The other point of view says that extreme convergence of probability is the reason that whatever’s out there hasn’t gotten me already. I keep thinking: I never opened the window on the third floor. I never opened the front door, until that incredibly stupid stunt with the hidden camera after which I ran straight to my room and slammed the door. I haven’t opened my own solid door since I flung open the front door of the building. Whatever’s out there – if anything’s out there – never made an ‘appearance’ in the building before I opened the front door. Maybe the reason it wasn’t in the building already was that it was elsewhere getting everyone else… and then it waited, until I betrayed my existence by trying to call Amy… a call which didn’t work, until it called me and asked me my name…

Terror literally overwhelms me every time I try to fit the pieces of this nightmare together. That email – short, cut off – was it from someone trying to get word out? Some friendly voice desperately trying to warn me before it came? Seen with my own eyes, don’t trust them – exactly what I’ve been so suspicious of. It could have masterful control of all things electronic, practicing its insidious deception to trick me into coming outside. Why can’t it get in? It knocked on the door – it must have some solid presence… the door… the image of those doors in the upper hallway as guardian monoliths flashes back in my mind every time I trace this path of thoughts. If there is some phantom entity trying to get me to go outside, maybe it can’t get through doors. I keep thinking back over all the books I’ve read or movies I’ve seen, trying to generate some explanation for this. Doors have always been such intense foci of human imagination, always seen as wards or portals of special importance. Or perhaps the door is just too thick? I know that I couldn’t bash through any of the doors in this building, let alone the heavy basement ones. Aside from that, the real question is, why does it even want me? If it just wanted to kill me, it could do it any number of ways, including just waiting until I starve to death. What if it doesn’t want to kill me? What if it has some far more horrific fate in store for me? God, what can I do to escape this nightmare?!

A knock on the door…

-----

I told the people on the other side of the door I need a minute to think and I’ll come out. I’m really just writing this down so I can figure out what to do. At least this time I heard their voices. My paranoia – and yes, I recognize I’m being paranoid – has me thinking of all sorts of ways that their voices could be faked electronically. There could be nothing but speakers outside, simulating human voices. Did it really take them three days to come talk to me? Amy is supposedly out there, along with two policemen and a psychiatrist. Maybe it took them three days to think of what to say to me – the psychiatrist’s claim could be pretty convincing, if I decided to think this has all been a crazy misunderstanding, and not some entity trying to trick me into opening the door.

The psychiatrist had an older voice, authoritarian but still caring. I liked it. I’m desperate just to see someone with my own eyes! He said I have something called cyber-psychosis, and I’m just one of a nationwide epidemic of thousands of people having breakdowns triggered by a suggestive email that ‘got through somehow.’ I swear he said ‘got through somehow.’ I think he means spread throughout the country inexplicably, but I’m incredibly suspicious that the entity slipped up and revealed something. He said I am part of a wave of ‘emergent behavior’, that a lot of other people are having the same problem with the same fears, even though we’ve never communicated.

That neatly explains the strange email about eyes that I got. I didn’t get the original triggering email. I got a descendant of it – my friend could have broken down too, and tried to warn everyone he knew against his paranoid fears. That’s how the problem spreads, the psychiatrist claims. I could have spread it, too, with my texts and instant messages online to everybody I know. One of those people might be melting down right now, after being triggered by something I sent them, something they might interpret any way that they want, something like a text saying seen anyone face to face lately? The psychiatrist told me that he didn’t want to ‘lose another one’, that people like me are intelligent, and that’s our downfall. We draw connections so well that we draw them even when they shouldn’t be there. He said it’s easy to get caught up in paranoia in our fast paced world, a constantly changing place where more and more of our interaction is simulated…

I have to give him one thing. It’s a great explanation. It neatly explains everything. It perfectly explains everything, in fact. I have every reason to shake off this nightmarish fear that some thing or consciousness or being out there wants me to open the door so it can capture me for some horrible fate worse than death. It would be foolish, after hearing that explanation, to stay in here until I starve to death just to spite the entity that might have got everyone else. It would be foolish to think that, after hearing that explanation, I might be one of the last people left alive on an empty world, hiding in my secure basement room, spiting some unthinkable deceptive entity just by refusing to be captured. It’s a perfect explanation for every single strange thing I’ve seen or heard, and I have every reason in the world to let all of my fears go, and open the door.

That’s exactly why I’m not going to.

How can I be sure?! How can I know what’s real and what’s deception? All of these damn things with their wires and their signals that originate from some unseen origin! They’re not real, I can’t be sure! Signals through a camera, faked video, deceptive phone calls, emails! Even the television, lying broken on the floor – how can I possibly know it’s real? It’s just signals, waves, light… the door! It’s bashing on the door! It’s trying to get in! What insane mechanical contrivance could it be using to simulate the sound of men attacking the heavy wood so well?! At least I’ll finally see it with my own eyes… there’s nothing left in here for it to deceive me with, I’ve ripped apart everything else! It can’t deceive my eyes, can it? Seen with your own eyes don’t trust them they… wait… was that desperate message telling me to trust my eyes, or warning me about my eyes too?! Oh my god, what’s the difference between a camera and my eyes? They both turn light into electrical signals – they’re the same! I can’t be deceived! I have to be sure! I have to be sure!

Date Unknown

I calmly asked for paper and a pen, day in and day out, until it finally gave them to me. Not that it matters. What am I going to do? Poke my eyes out? The bandages feel like part of me now. The pain is gone. I figure this will be one of my last chances to write legibly, as, without my sight to correct mistakes, my hands will slowly forget the motions involved. This is a sort of self-indulgence, this writing… it’s a relic of another time, because I’m certain everyone left in the world is dead… or something far worse.

I sit against the padded wall day in and day out. The entity brings me food and water. It masks itself as a kind nurse, as an unsympathetic doctor. I think it knows that my hearing has sharpened considerably now that I live in darkness. It fakes conversations in the hallways, on the off chance that I might overhear. One of the nurses talks about having a baby soon. One of the doctors lost his wife in a car accident. None of it matters, none of it is real. None of it gets to me, not like she does.

That’s the worst part, the part I almost can’t handle. The thing comes to me, masquerading as Amy. Its recreation is perfect. It sounds exactly like Amy, feels exactly like her. It even produces a reasonable facsimile of tears that it makes me feel on its lifelike cheeks. When it first dragged me here, it told me all the things I wanted to hear. It told me that she loved me, that she had always loved me, that it didn’t understand why I did this, that we could still have a life together, if only I would stop insisting that I was being deceived. It wanted me to believe… no, it needed me to believe that she was real.

I almost fell for it. I really did. I doubted myself for the longest time. In the end, though, it was all too perfect, too flawless, and too real. The false Amy used to come every day, and then every week, and finally stopped coming altogether… but I don’t think the entity will give up. I think the waiting game is just another one of its gambits. I will resist it for the rest of my life, if I have to. I don’t know what happened to the rest of the world, but I do know that this thing needs me to fall for its deceptions. If it needs that, then maybe, just maybe, I am a thorn in its agenda. Maybe Amy is still alive out there somewhere, kept alive only by my will to resist the deceiver. I hold on to that hope, rocking back and forth in my cell to pass the time. I will never give in. I will never break. I am… a hero!

-----

The doctor read the paper the patient had scribbled on. It was barely readable, written in the shaky script of one who could not see. He wanted to smile at the man’s steadfast resolve, a reminder of the human will to survive, but he knew that the patient was completely delusional.

After all, a sane man would have fallen for the deception long ago.

The doctor wanted to smile. He wanted to whisper words of encouragement to the delusional man. He wanted to scream, but the nerve filaments wrapped around his head and into his eyes made him do otherwise. His body walked into the cell like a puppet, and told the patient, once more, that he was wrong, and that there was nobody trying to deceive him.

Review:

I think it was alright, this is the first one i've written down now and I had a really easy time finding the author,,, i wonder if i'll find the rest as easy,, anyways though. In terms of how good it was to me, i didn't really like it much, like don't get me wrong it was okay but yeah. I find the ending to be a little silly. It was almost scary and unnerving enough to find out he was in fact just having a mental breakdown and consumed by isolation induced psychosis. The deception was a little silly 2 me. I also am trying to not be very critical coz i cant write well at ALL but I found a lot of the punctuation and "on paper" writing to not be very good, id almost have preferred no punctuation. I will say the atmosphere/settings and environment descriptors are very good and i could visualize them pretty well. Also If any of you use a screen reader please let me know if i ought to change the formatting of the posts. Anyways I hope you enjoyed it.

stars: 3.5 / 5

[elfyourmother]

@kunstpause yeah re: Blizzard’s fuckery, the problem is WoW really had no viable competition for the longest time and they rested on its success and it didn’t matter how terrible the shit they were shoveling out was, where were people really going to go? then you had people like me who basically quit playing years ago but held onto subs because of sunk cost fallacy/nostalgia (I literally kept mine towards the end just to look up things for my fanfic lmao)

but everything they’ve been doing for the last 5 or so years in particular with that game has really smacked of desperation to me because they’ve been bleeding subs like crazy and need to staunch that somehow. that’s how you get shit like trying to bring Illidan back and vanilla servers and all this nonsense. this latest thing is just vile though and healthy games don’t do that. the difference in philosophy is so stark and it’s not to say SE is perfect and yoshida can do no wrong. but even with their mistakes and missteps there is a genuine love of the player base that you never saw with wow. Can you imagine any of those ding dong bros sticking themselves into the game to thank their players once a year? (rather than just putting self inserts to fuck blue chicks). I think a lot of that is certainly down to cultural differences but also failing so spectacularly out of the gate the way xiv did I think had a way of making SE humble. yoshi p & team are immensely grateful for that second chance and it shows. For all the cash shop jokes we make, we’re not treated as walking wallets.

on top of all this it’s been very obvious for a long time now that XIV has blizz scared like no other competing MMO ever has. back in the day everyone used to crow about the hot new mmo being a wow killer and none of them ever were, it was a running joke even. Conan, Warhammer, etc were all supposed to kill wow. The only game that’s even still around of that lot and was moderately successful is GW. but XIV is the one that’s going to do it though, it already has the knife to the jugular and that was obvious to me even back in Stormblood but especially now

nowadays all you see even on my small server are sprouts with Azeroth derivative names and every other day on reddit there’s a “I’m a wow refugee” thread. like I said I noticed this during SB even when I was new but ShB really accelerated it. I think it’s a combo of the critical acclaim it’s gotten and bofa being the nadir of the game according to everyone ever. It was like the perfect storm of factors. I really don’t think XIV will stay #2 in numbers for much longer. I don’t think anything will reach the numbers Blizz had at wow’s peak just because the market is so much more saturated now and mmorpgs have largely been supplanted in mainstream popularity by battle royales. But XIV will definitely catch them it’s just a matter of time

[soleilnomoon]

deliberate ; kid x reader.

1.5k words, afab reader  (no pronouns), angst-lite

cw: alcohol

“you are terrifying and strange and beautiful, someone not everyone knows how to love.” - warsan shire.

at first, you don’t believe him when he says that your days are numbered on his ship. this, you suppose, is his way of testing your mettle—brutish, but effective, if not a bit childish. you suck your teeth as he continues his tirade, his body taking up most of the doorframe, loudly complaining as killer flips through a newspaper in silence; when he realizes that killer has given you his seal of approval, he loses it. for some reason, kid is still unsettled by your presence; you do your best to stay out of his way, but it’s almost as if he intentionally seeks you out on a daily basis. if he’s not calling you names, he’s glaring your way, and when he’s not doing that he makes it impossible for you to interact with the rest of his crew.

he designates menial, back-breaking tasks to you; you swab the deck, do laundry, clean the kitchen and dining area, and, if he’s feeling particularly spiteful, you end up being an assistant of sorts, running back and forth to fetch things for him all day long. when your crewmates offer to help, his deadly expression gives them pause, so they back off and leave you to your chores. it’s ridiculous, you know that—but, killer promises that it won’t be for much longer, kid’s merely trying to figure you out. but as the days go on, you’re unsure of killer’s promise—he most likely underestimated his captain’s affinity for holding unnecessary grudges.

on a seemingly pleasant day, after you’ve finished your morning work, killer shoots kid an unreadable look, communicating wordlessly with his captain for him to let it go and find something else to focus on. eustass “captain” kid is just as melodramatic as they say he is; outside of his raw strength and power, you’re not sure why anyone would willingly follow him. if anything, killer is the more sensible one—the one, in your eyes, who is dependable, honest, steady. 

you earned your spot, fair and square, and pirates are supposed to abide by a code whether they want to or not. and kid is not an exception. as evening descends upon you—after the sunset paints the sky various shades of pinks and oranges and reds, when your crewmates grow sleepy from the rich food they inhaled—you tell him as much and he scoffs loudly. every bit obnoxious and full of venom, already plotting to make you regret uttering those words to him. 

killer, being the one that recruited you, thinks that both of you are absolutely ridiculous at this point, which only earns another scoff from your hot-headed new captain.

“fine,” he says, after three weeks of trying to scare you off unsuccessfully—without taking another look at you, he continues. “do whatever, just don’t get in anyone’s way.” while you should feel relieved, you feel like shit; something about the way kid dismisses you doesn’t sit right. you stew on it for days, seemingly lost in thought at every moment, your crewmates talk amongst themselves, wondering if you’re cut out for a life on their ship. it’s killer, again, who reassures you that your captain would have kicked you out already if he really wanted to—but, you don’t find any comfort in his words. instead, all you feel is a rising wave of anxiety, shame, and disappointment; almost as if you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.

a terrible, nervous habit of yours, sure, but kid’s antagonizing behavior doesn’t make it any easier.

if you think that by keeping to yourself that you’ll stay off kid’s radar, you’re wrong. despite killer’s warning, kid’s focus never leaves you. nothing scares you off, not his shouting, his vicious words of discouragement, the unnecessary tasks he throws your way. still, you won’t break.

when he sits in his workshop, late one night, tinkering away, drafting up blueprints for another weapon, he overhears a few hushed voices talking, followed by the sound of your laughter. he frowns, then, getting up from his seat and leaving his designs behind; his morbid curiosity drives him to seek out the source of whatever it is that has you laughing like that. it’s quiet on the ship, everyone else mostly asleep or otherwise occupied, but a warm light in the dining room alerts him to your presence. he doesn’t just open the door, he barges in; a scowl permanently attached to his face as he searches the room.

you sit in the corner at a small table with heat; half a bottle of bourbon in the middle, various snacks littered about, condensation blurring the contents of your glass. the light illuminates your features, accentuating the curve of your lips, the shape of your cheeks, the curl of your eyelashes—he catches himself staring, unable to look away, a strange sensation burrowing its way deeply in his chest. it isn’t long before you realize that he’s been there for a few minutes, watching silently; you were so deep in conversation with heat, that you barely heard the door open. 

“well,” heat says, completely draining the remainder of his glass, his hands splayed flat against the table before he stands up, “that’s my cue.” and when you open your mouth to ask him to stay, he’s already on his way out, clapping kid on the shoulder playfully. when you look over at your captain, he remains rooted in his spot by the door; it dawns on you, then, that all this time he’s been looking for reasons to get under your skin. maybe it’s the bourbon giving you a different perspective, or maybe you’ve just gotten so used to his actions that it’s now making sense. 

but, he’ll just have to work a bit harder than that.

you pour yourself another glass, swear that it’s your last one for the night, and resume drinking, not bothering to acknowledge the man that’s been hellbent on diminishing your resolve. this annoys him, for some reason; why won’t you say something, anything? you were so friendly and amiable with heat, but for him you can’t spare a second glance.

it’s absurd, unheard of, absolutely unacceptable.

you don’t care, though, which pisses him off even more. kid stomps over to the table, plops down ruthlessly on the chair across from you, and grabs your glass out of your hand. 

“hey!” your face is flushed, you probably shouldn’t keep drinking and maybe that’s why he confiscated your drink—you can’t really tell with him anymore.

“shut it,” he says offhandedly, ignoring the way you reach over and attempt to reclaim your stolen drink. before you can say anything else, he pins you with a look that lets you know he’s not in the mood for your bullshit; as you take in his big, hulking appearance, what captivates you most is his eyes. they shine, more or less, brightly gleaming with unknowable intent that is most likely laced with mischief; he’s more feline than anything, a big cat on the prowl, waiting for you to drop your guard so he can attack.

you should be cowering in fear, should be scrambling to leave behind the snacks and your drink, should be in bed sleeping away your worries—but you’re not. instead, you stay where you are, determined to see if your captain has anything new to spew your way. he stays silent, swirling around the liquid in the glass and admiring the warm, chestnut coloring. it’s in this moment that you find yourself wanting to ask him questions—useless ones that might give you more insight to your captain’s impetuous ways—but they sit on your tongue, so you don’t say a thing.

you don’t know why; you’re perfectly capable of speech, so much so that you irritate kid on a regular basis—but, if he’s honest, it has less to do with you actually being annoying, and more to do with you specifically. it’s a truth that killer plucks out of him a few nights prior, when he rants for half an hour, face red from the vodka, before his first mate stops him with a pillow to the face. because that’s the only way he’ll just shut up about you; and when killer presses him for more information, suddenly it’s not the vodka that has his cheeks burning.

he finally takes a sip of the bourbon, makes a face and complains that it tastes cheap. you inform him that unfortunately your pirate salary doesn’t allow for you to splurge on things like ‘fancy alcohol’. promising him that the next time your crew plunders a town, you’ll steal from someone with money. in the middle of taking another longer sip, he chokes after hearing your words, chuckling and wiping bourbon off of his lips, mumbling to himself that he finds you mildly entertaining. 

and you know it isn’t meant for you to hear, but you do and all that anxiety that plagued you for days on end, momentarily dissipates—leaving you feeling light and a bit warm. you only sit for a few minutes with him, and once he’s had his fill of your drink, he leaves you to your own thoughts. not bothering to say much else aside from you’re doing fine and stop acting meek, which only earns him an eye roll on your part. but, it feels good, knowing you’re not a burden to the crew, and that your captain might have finally started to take a liking to you.

[worminstuff]

Seethe pt.4

c!techno x reader

tw: toxic relationship, manipulation (this tw is for the series in genral)

warnings for this pt: nothing really, it’s pretty fluffy

word count: like 1.1k ish

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

To say Techno was stressed would be a very large understatement. He wasn't afraid of this child. He wasn't afraid of anything.

But this little gremlin was in his home, mooching off his girl. Micheal has every bit of y/ns attention. That's unacceptable.

Techno could lose a finger right now and she'd only throw him a bandaid.

He huffed to himself from a chair in the living room. He pushed off the blanket on the arm rest a moment ago to try and see if she'd look over, you know, like a child.

After she didn't acknowledge it, he crossed his arms and sat groveling. To himself.

All while y/n was sat with Michael on the floor in the kitchen all the way across the room. They were looking at some books Michael had brought, and y/n was reading them with him.

Techno wanted to read with y/n.

They could've, with this whole day they were supposed to have with each other. Without a child.

y/n paused her reading as she got a ping on her com, it was a message from Ranboo.

“Oh..i've got to run for a moment-” she finally looked up to Techno.

He raised a brow. She was telling him she was leaving?

y/n held his gaze for a moment. She was so caught up with Michael she hadn't even thought of how mad Techno must be.

“What makes you think that?” it was less an actual question than a warning. It was his way of telling her she was insane to think this was gonna slide easy.

y/n sighed, Michael climbed into her lap and sat facing Techno, Techno felt like he was taunting him.

y/n covered Michaels ears (as if he was going to really understand what she was about to say), “Tubbos severely injured. When they called Nikki to help he wouldn't let her because he wanted me.”

This actually made a lot of sense. y/ns been with the l’manburg gang since the beginning, through all the war and hard stuck she was the one cleaning wounds, bandaging them, making splints and casts and everything else.

For Tubbo, y/n was there after every traumatic experience he's had, helping clean up his aftermath.

She was the first to get him after the day Techno shot and killed him, she was furious that day. Techno had never seen her angry at him the way she was then. He realized in that moment how much those people, especially Tubbo, ment to y/n. He guessed that was also a reason y/n was trusted with michael.

Techno kissed his teeth for a moment.

“Please Techno..” her eyes pleaded more than her words. He wanted to look away, he should've.

“Fine. I'm assuming I can't come?” his arms uncrossed and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

y/n cringed for a moment before slowly pointing to Michael in her lap.

Technos eyes went wide, “No. No that's not happening. You are out of your mind, y/n!”

“Please Techno! Just for a little while, and i'll bring ranboo back with me to pick him up. Tubbo really needs me.” she kept her composer, she knew crying or getting angry would get her nowhere.

Techno hated that someone else needed her. No one really needed y/n. Maybe he did, and he's the only one that should need her.

Don't let her go. Our bird. Never let her leave. Why does she always want to leave us?

Techno closed his eyes tightly as he waved her off, the voices yelling at him as he went against them.

y/n quickly scooped Michael up and placed him on the floor where she was. She grabbed her bag by the door full of all her first aid kits and other supplies and her shoes were on in mere seconds. Before techno could even ask for a kiss goodbye she was out the door.

Michael stared at the door after it closed for a moment, then he looked to techno. Techno stared back at him.

He pressed his hands to his knees as he stood to his full height, with a large sigh he muttered “and now I gotta call Phil.”

^^^^^^^^

Techno was back in the chair by the time the front door slammed open. Michael in the same spot on the floor, now reading to himself. Techno was sat as he was, except now his hands pressed together, with his pointer fingers pressed against his lip as if he were deep in thought.

It was honestly a ridiculous sight. A 7 foot something, war demon, blood king, sat avoiding a little piglin boy. This man lived as a weapon for years, he practically won a war after betraying those he worked alongside for months. Yet, he couldn’t face his new most challenging battle. A child.

Why couldn’t he face this battle? Cause his girlfriend left him there.

You know. Like a child.

“Techno! What's the emergen..cy.” Phil went from an incredibly panicked face, to deadpan in a millisecond. All when he saw techno, and michael. His shoulders sank.

Techno looked up at phil with wide eyes, the rest of his face still pinched with focus.

He pointed to the boy.

“Right there.”

Phil took a deep breath. Closed his eyes. And against his better judgment, did not scream at techno in front of the child. “You sent me..a sos.. Over Ranboo and Tubbos kid. Are you out of your mind?!” he whispered instead.

Techno nodded slowly.

Michael was starting to pick up on the obvious tension between the two men, so he got up from his spot and waddled all the way over to techno as techno watched him wearily.

Techno sat up straight as Michael got close, and eventually placed his book in technos lap.

“Bee book.” the small boy said shyly. Michael loved his bee book, one of his dads gave it to him and it was his favorite.

Of course its fucking bees, Techno thought.

Techno looked to Phil for help, he genuinely looked terrified. Not obvious to anyone who didn't know techno, but to Phil who knew him very well, he could see every bit of fear in his eyes.

Phil closed his eyes tightly before gathering his composer, “Bee book? Is that the one from Tubbo?” he asked the boy, leaning down.

Michael nodded to Phil before looking back to techno, much to his dismay. “Helps me when i'm scared.” he gave Techno a knowing look.

Techno squared his shoulders and pinched his brows, catching what the small boy was implying.

Phil fought the urge to laugh.

Techno hoped y/n would be back soon. He was livid to admit it, but he needed his bird to rescue him.

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

Hello! Im glad i made it on time for request! T^TI would like to request a chishiya x female reader. Where the female reader is strong and intelligent and chishiya just basically falls in love with her. He tries to get close with but apparently reader doesn't live in beach she lives in her own homemade house. So chishiya tries really hard to find her.

Of course, here you go! 🥰

Search | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya

Summary: Chishiya searches all through Tokyo to find you, who he met at a game and fell for instantly.

Warnings: swearing, somewhat creepy behaviour from Chishiya, violence

Word Count: 2.2k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: sorry I closed requests for so long! They’re open again now for a few days so please send in anything you want me to write! ❤

The dark streets of Tokyo echoed the sounds of the wind travelling through the trees. The silence that filled the atmosphere was deafening, leaving Chishiya to nothing but his wandering thoughts that pottered so carelessly through his head. The occasional cry of a crow kept him grounded, always bringing him back to the reality that was in front of him.

The young man was taking yet another attempt of finding the peculiar and alluring figure that he had encountered at many games. No one had ever taken his interest as much as this, and even if they had, he would’ve given up at finding them for the fact that they live in the huge empty wasteland that is Tokyo. Any nook and cranny could have the chance of being your home, but Chishiya was determined to find you. He didn’t have anything else to do anyway. But now that he’s taken interest in you, he finally has something to work towards rather than just waiting around to die at The Beach.

He strolled effortlessly through the Shibuya crossing, recognizing the place from when he was first thrown into the game, always returning to the large open area to use as a safe space. Even after being in the game for as long as he had, it still felt foreign to see not a single soul crossing the road, very unlike usual Tokyo.

The only source of light he had to assist him was a small torch he took from The Beach and the occasional game sign pointing to some late running games. He felt unsettled every time he entered an area where no light was available, and the silence didn’t help.

“Tch,” he scoffed to himself, rubbing his sleeves over his eyes to keep them from dropping from how tired he was. He had been at it for weeks, not even getting the slightest clue where you stayed in the huge city.

“This is ridiculous, as if I haven’t found her yet.” He was becoming more and more frustrated as each night dragged on. All he wanted was to meet you in person that wasn’t in the registration section of a game, where he wasn’t even sure either of you would leave alive.

After being saved by you during a hearts game, Chishiya developed an irrational attraction to your selfless and strong demeanour. He admired the fact that you managed to look after yourself and others at the same time, always thinking of an intelligent way to make sure that everyone survived. He was impressed and taken back, for he had never met or encountered anyone like you.

Chishiya strutted over to a large building near the Shibuya crossing that displayed a screen pointing towards a game. He had to sit down for a while, he had been walking for hours and his legs were beginning to hurt. He shivered and pulled his hoodie tighter around him as he walked through the entrance of the building to find that place nearly trashed all through. Obviously some people had attempted to search the building for resources to assist in their survival.

He slowly made his way further into the building, being mindful of the shards of glass and other debris that scattered the floor. The last thing he wanted was the trip of something and ended up with sharp glass shards in his back.

Chishiya entered a large room that almost seemed untouched. Much unlike the other rooms, this room was clean and no furniture was turned over. He frowned, wondering why no one had bothered to search this room.

“Huh, must have missed it,” he answered his own question. He walked to the centre of the room and sat on a small brown couch that was placed there, rather inconveniently. The layout of the room was very scattered and random resources such as water bottles and empty cans of beans and tuna were laying around on every surface.

The cans of food looked awfully too clean to have been left there for long. The leftover specs of food remaining appeared fresh, and the smell of tuna was far from smelling off. Chishiya moved his tired eyes around the room, trying to find any more evidence of someone being there recently. His eyes locked on a small pile of blankets and pillows in the corner of the room, all bunched up together to create a comfy nest almost.

The pile seemed a bit too lumpy to be holding only blankets, so Chishiya’s curiosity got the better of him and he stood slowly to make his way over to the makeshift bed. He thought maybe someone was hiding some more food underneath it, probably planning to return some other time to collect them.

He kneeled down next to the pile, scanning the small space. His eyes widened as he saw the blanket move, slowly lifting up and down incredibly slightly. He almost stepped back in shock, but decided against it and lifted his hand slowly to lift the duvet.

He grasped the soft material and carefully pulled it back towards himself. His breath became caught in his throat when he locked eyes with what was underneath it.

There you laid, peacefully sleeping and tucked into yourself. Your legs were folded and against your torso with your arms lying lazily next to your head. You looked so vulnerable and small, especially since Chishiya just found you hiding from the world underneath a blanket. He assumed that you covered yourself so if someone was to find your hiding space, they wouldn’t see you and potentially hurt you.

Chishiya couldn’t help himself. After seeing you become so aggressive and resilient in games, seeing you so calm and at peace pulled at his heart strings. He knew it was wrong, intruding on you while you weren’t aware he was even there, but he knew that he wouldn’t ever hurt you.

His heart hurt from the sight of you holding yourself in a tight ball, obviously being anxious that something would happen while you were asleep. He pouted and tilted his head, examining you closely.

“So pretty,” he whispered. But just as the words left his mouth, his stomach dropped when he saw your eyes snap open and lock directly onto him.

Before he could even think, you had swung a fist at his face, punching him square in the jaw, making him yell in pain as he backed away while squatting on his legs so he could get up and run if he had to. He held his face in his hands, trying to reduce the pain throbbing in his jaw.

“What the fuck?!” you exclaimed, standing up out of your bundle of blankets. “Fucking creep! Piss off!”

Chishiya groaned and glanced up towards you, noticing that you were now standing over his meek body on the ground. You held a small knife in your hands, pointing the sharp object towards him in case he made any sudden movements.

Chishiya’s usual smug smirk crawled onto his face, making your frown more as he stood up slowly, hands held up in surrender. “Wow, feisty,” he chuckled.

Your angry expression softened and you lowered your weapon slightly as the bright moonlight shined through the window and painted across Chishiya’s face. You immediately recognized him as the young, white-haired man that always assisted you at games. But what was he doing here?

“What do you want?” you glowered, taking a few threatening steps towards him. Chishiya raised his eyebrows, but kept his composed behaviour as your weapon pressed lightly on his chest, making him wince slightly as the sharp point pierced his skin through his white shirt.

“Rude. I don’t even get a hello? A how are you? All I get is a knife in my face,” he smugly responded. “You did that to yourself by watching me sleep like a fucking stalker,” you hissed, leaning your face closer to his.

“I guess so,” he sneered. “By the way, I wouldn’t kill me if you were considering it. Trust me, I’m not on my own.”

You felt ridiculed by his calm behaviour, hating how he didn’t seem threatened by you at all. Out of all the people you’ve scared off, why did this skinny, short man have more nerve than anyone else?

“I wasn’t counting on it,” you reassured. You pulled back your knife slightly, but still kept it drawn in your hand in case he tried anything. You may have met him a few times in games, but trust was very hard to earn from anyone in the Borderlands.

“So, Y/N,” he started. “I’ve been searching for you for a while now. I’m glad I’ve finally found you.”

You scowled at his words. “Me? What could someone like you possibly want from me?” You watched as his pink lips curled up into a smirk, making you cringe slightly.

Chishiya turned away from you and strolled back over to the brown lounge in the middle of the room. He leaned comfortably on the back of it, facing you again. You had lowered your knife, feeling reassured now that he was further away.

“I’ve noticed you,” he started, staring holes into your eyes. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “You know how to handle yourself in games, and I can’t help but become a little immersed in your methods.”

The way he spoke gave you a headache. He sounded too smart for his own good, making you question if he was bluffing just to trick you into believing that you were needed, when he would just use you then leave you in the dust.

“Yeah? And what about it?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Chishiya looked down to the ground and tucked his hands into his pockets. “I would very much appreciate it if you joined me,” he suggested. “I am staying at a hotel called ‘The Beach’, but everyone there is an idiot. If you are willing to put your trust into me, I promise that I will help you collect all the cards and escape this place.”

You kept your gaze on him, trying to see any sign that he may be lying. If he was lying, he was incredibly good at it.

“What’s the catch?” you asked, fiddling with your knife.

“There is none. Only the fact that I’m asking you to join forces with hundreds of idiotic, drunks that act like children.”

There was a moment of silence before Chishiya continued.

“But I can reassure you, if you stick by me, I will be sure to keep you safe and alive.”

You rolled your eyes at his promise. “I don’t need your protection. Look at you, you’re skin and bones. I can take care of myself.” You turned back to your pile of blankets, lifting them to search for your radio that had become lost in the sheets during the night.

Chishiya thought to himself, trying to think of something to say that would convince you to come back with him to The Beach. He couldn’t downright say that he was in love with you, because it would probably scare you off. If he wanted to have a chance with you, he first had to gain your trust. But that was deemed difficult when he was the shady character that he is.

“There’s food and water at The Beach,” he spoke up, making you freeze in your movements and turn back towards him. “There’s comfy beds and personal rooms, as well as allies and guaranteed protection from militants. If you really want to survive, you’d be best there more than out here by yourself.”

You stared at him before glancing around the room, eyes landing on the scattered cans of food and random dirty clothes everywhere. You would admit, you were lonely, and hungry, and cold.

“What makes me sure I can trust you, Chishiya?” you challenged.

Chishiya stepped away from the sofa and walked over to you, making you stand up from your position on the ground so you were at eye level.

“Because you have no other choice,” he smugly stated, “You’re lucky enough for it to only be me to walk in here and find you. Just think about it, if I can find you, so can a group of murderous people, or starving people, or people desperate for cards.”

He had a good point. You hated that you were falling prey to his manipulation, but if The Beach was even slightly better than the dirt hole you were inhabiting, you were interested enough to at least take a look.

“Okay,” you mumbled, turning away from him and leaning down to pick up the small backpack that laid next to your bed. “I’ll come, but if I find out you’re lying or trying to have me killed, it’ll be your head hanging from a lamppost in Shibuya.”

Chishiya smiled at your threat, not being affected by your violent words. “That’s the kind of talk that will get you killed Y/N,” he warned, turning around and making his way towards the entrance of the building. “Keep that up, you might be the one losing a head.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes at his warning.

Chishiya smiled to himself as he stepped out into the cold night air. He could finally relax, knowing he found you and would now be able to keep you in his sight at all times. Even if he had to tell a few fibs to make you come with him, he believes it was worth it, as now he could stay by your side.

He knew it would be a work in progress to earn your trust eventually, but he would make sure that you always trusted him over anyone else.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Mothskier vs. the Haunted House

Welcome to the first of this year's annual "Very Bouncey Halloween" stories! At the request of my beloved @veritasrose I have written some cute Mothskier fluff!

tw: haunted house spooks (brief description of a jump scare)

---

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Geralt asks, taking Jaskier by the hand. The half-Fae’s wings flutter a little in annoyance and he glares over at his boyfriend, eyes narrowing dramatically when their gazes lock.

“This is one of the few seasonal human traditions that seems scary and fun,” he asserts. “I don’t want to miss out!”

“Alright,” the Witcher relents. “But next weekend I get to choose the date activity."

Jaskier nods his consent to this suggestion, antennae bouncing.

The Witcher smiles, presses a quick kiss to Jaskier's fluffy brown hair, and asks: "Do you have the tickets?”

“I printed them out this morning" - Jaskier offers up the folded papers - "Here.”

“Excellent."

Geralt takes the tickets from Jaskier and slips them into his hoodie pocket, keeping them clutched tight as they make their way from the parking lot to the small front gate. After a quick pause to wait in line, Geralt hands their entry passes to the bored-looking teenage attendant at the window.

“Welcome to Hawthorne’s Haunted Halloween Spooktacular,” the dark-haired boy says in a tired monotone as he fastens the day-glo orange bracelet-passes around Geralt and Jaskiers’ wrists. “Enter only if you dare, and please remember to keep your hands to yourself inside the haunted houses.”

Jaskier's mouth opens as if to question the lad and Geralt ushers him forward quickly, into the half-assed Main Square area of the Halloween attraction.

“Do I really have to keep my hands to myself?” Jaskier asks, glancing down at where Geralt’s fingers are intertwined with his own. “Because I'd much rather stick to holding your hand!”

The Witcher bites his lip to keep from chuckling; the Faerie’s naivety about human society and traditions can be ridiculously adorable sometimes. “He meant that you’re not allowed to hit or kick the actors who work here. You have to keep your hands to yourself when you're around the employees.”

“Oh. Well of course!” Jaskier practically squawks. “It would be incredibly rude to do my host an injury!”

“That's well and true for everybody, most of the time, but people often react strangely when they’re frightened.”

Jaskier squeezes Geralt’s hand in reply, his antennae flicking back and forth in the air as his eyes sweep from one haunted house to the next. “There’s so many!"

“Yeah, that’s why they’re allowed to charge us so much to get in.”

“I paid for my own ticket,” the Fae sticks his tongue out. “You could have spared yourself the fifteen bucks and stayed home for the evening with a nice book or your sword or something equally boring and lonely, you know.”

“And miss out on seeing you absolutely shit your pants when an underpaid university student jumps at you with a chainsaw?” Geralt teases, “No way!”

Jaskier yanks his hand free from Geralt’s grip and makes his way to the closest attraction, which happens to be themed after a science lab. There’s a poorly ripped-off Doc Brown painting being mostly illuminated by a dying blacklight above the words: Laboratory of Despair: Enter Only if You Dare!

“Oh my gods, that’s so corny,” Geralt hears Jaskier mutter under his breath. The Witcher chuckles out loud this time and Jaskier whips around to look at him.

“It’s a terrible sign, yeah,” Geralt nods. “Now how about we see what the lab has to offer, hmm?”

Jaskier grips at the hem of Geralt’s hoodie sleeve and nods, betraying his nerves by worrying his lip between his teeth. His false bravado and anger from before have abandoned him completely. “Okay.”

Geralt steps through the fringe of black beads that covers the door and pulls his anxious boyfriend along behind him. He can hear the way Jaskier’s wings are shivering and twitching. The slender Fae's twin antennae dance atop his head, searching for information about his surroundings without making a sound. Geralt runs his thumb in gentle circles over the back of Jaskier’s knuckles, practically smelling the relief that pours off the pretty creature as they continue into the darkness.

A few steps later, just as a light appears at the end of the tunnel, a person in a cheap rubber bug mask pops out from behind a false wall, buzzing into Geralt’s personal space. The Witcher feels himself shoved back, a slightly smaller body coming between him and the half-bored actor. Jaskier hisses assertively, his whole body tense and alert, until the teenager disappears back behind the wall to wait for his next round of hapless victims to wander past.

Geralt leans down to whisper as they continue walking, “Did you just try to protect me from a seventeen year old in a shitty costume?”

“Can’t let my mate get hurt,” Jaskier replies simply. Geralt balks a bit. Mate? Is that what we are, mates?

“I appreciate it,” Geralt praises, enjoying the way his boyfriend preens at his words. “Even though I am perfectly capable of protecting myself.”

Jaskier doesn’t reply. Instead, he tugs Geralt close and continues bravely into the next section of the haunted house. His instincts had shown themselves once again, eager to prove to Geralt that he was a worthy partner. He couldn’t have known, of course, that he was far worthier than Geralt had ever dreamed.

[beware-of-you-98]

How the BAU React to Being Haunted

👻🍁🎃 in honor of spooky season 👻🍁🎃

Penelope

penelope is very, very respectful of the ghosts in her house

initially, when she hears the footsteps in the middle of the night or someone whisper her name only to find no one there, she freaks out a little

but she always approaches the topic with the upmost respect

she begins to greet the ghosts every morning and tell them good night

she asks them to stop hitting her walls in the middle of the night because it scares her

[they do]

she talks to them and it brings her a sense of comfort almost because she knows that they won’t hurt her

she finds the history of her apartment and adjusts accordingly to the ghosts’ needs

there was an older woman who had a fondness for Prince that passed away before she moved in

so every time penelope leaves for work, she’ll put on Prince for the woman to enjoy while she’s gone

Spencer

spencer is a very rational man of science and for weeks he chalks up objects moving on their own as him misplacing them

or the whispers he hears as paranoia

or the shadows he sees out of the corner of his eye as just his eyes playing tricks on him

he kinda ignores what goes on around him

one day, he addresses the spirit as “gideon” when he’s reading and his shoe goes flying across the room with no other explination

somehow, rationalizing the spirit as gideon helps him cope with not only being haunted, but with gideon’s death

if he’s running late for work and he can’t find something he needs, he’ll ask “gideon” and the thing he was looking for will show up

he doesn’t want to know if the spirit really is gideon or not

because the fact that it responds to gideon is enough for him

JJ

it freaks her out

but she puts on a poker face for her own sanity

it gets harder because henry starts to talk about his new friend

she ignores the fact that her son’s new friend is described exactly like rosalyn

and ignores how henry is starting to sing michael the same songs ros sang her [she never taught her son those songs]

she ignores everything at first because she had never told her son anything about their aunt and she’s so scared that maybe her sister holds a grudge for not doing anything to help her sooner

one day she’s reading in the house by herself when she swears she hears her sister’s laugh

her heart freezes, her finger marking her place in her book as she looks around the room

she timidly croaks for her sister

and watches as her eastern swallowtail shadowbox falls from the bookshelf and lands safely on the floor

it’s almost as if ros is letting her know she’s here and that she’s not mad

now any time henry talks about his new friend “r”, jj feels warmth instead of fear because she knows her sister is watching over her kids and protecting them

Emily

she really doesn’t mind the ghosts

she lets them do their own thing

if they want to bang on her pots and pans in the middle of the night, so be it

she’d probably do the same if her bed wasn’t so damn comfy

they want to stomp up and down halls??

let her grab her boots to join them

it’s a god damn party

the only time she even acknowledges the spirits is when she’s busy with work

the ghosts will start acting up and she’ll calmly go “martha i respect you and your spectral routine, you know i do, but can you chill for like five minutes while i finsh up this report?”

they stop every single time

Derek

does a double take every time something paranormal happens

does he question it?

of course he does

is his immediate conclusion ghosts??

absolutely not

and if something happens he can’t explain, he’ll come up with the most ridiculous conclusion

he saw his car keys get thrown across the room

must have been one hell of a gust of wind

because somehow admitting it’s a ghost is scarier than just pretending it’s not

Hotch

does not have the time for this bullshit

do you seriously think aaron hotchner is afraid of a ghost??

he was stabbed nine times in his own home and shot point blank a handful of times

he was about ready to fist fight a serial killer on death row

he’s not scared of being haunted

he could literally come into the house and see a little annabelle wanna be doll running around his apartment that’s been covered in pentagrams

he’ll just shrug and go “well i’ve been through worse” and continue on with his day

Rossi

what ghosts he has no ghosts

(cue his cabinets swinging open on their own)

nope, no ghosts whatsoever

he constantly uses the excuse that his house is “settling” to rationalize paranomal activity

and he has no idea what people are talking about when they tell him his house is haunted

“dave we literally just saw a man standing out in your backyward vanish before our eyes”

“huh must be the house just settling”

Tara

realizes she has ghosts when she comes out of her bathroom one night brushing her teeth to see a figure standing in her hallway

she pauses and flips on the light, only to watch the figure disappear when the light is on

when she turns it back off, the figure is there again

she kinda just stares at it for a long time and is finally like “well okay then that’s a thing i have to deal with now”

and goes about her normal routine

she tells the ghosts her jokes when no one else is around to hear them

and will constantly over exaggerate her response to the paranormal activity to make the ghosts feel accomplished

Luke

he approaches things almost like penelope

until he’s home alone and hears a fucking little kid giggling

he immediately stands, grabs roxy and spends the night on spencer’s couch

because luke alvez can deal with ghosts

he can deal with demons

he will not deal with a little kid ghost

nope he absolutely draws the line at it

he hears the kid singing one night when he comes back to his apartment and is like NOPE

call a priest

call the exorcist

burn down the house

burn down the block

because there is no way in HELL he is going to go back there no sir

he moves into a new apartment a few weeks later because fuck his deposit he is not spending the night with that creepy ass shining twins wanna be bitch

Matt

rationalizes, rationalizes, rationalizes

to him, there’s nothing that can’t be explained

and there is no paranormal reason for what happens

he accepts it as something rational and moves on with his life

he has a lot more things to worry about than his “haunted house”

Alex

she acknowledges the ghosts are there

but really what can she do about it

she’s not going to get rid of them, they were here first

so she kinda sets up some boundaries

she lets the spirits do their own thing and she does her’s and they don’t bother each other

she’ll let them toss around whatever the hell they feel like as long as they don’t touch her books

or harm her

she never threatens them

but the ghosts must get the memo because they never touch any of her books

Kate

(cue me inserting something unoriginal about her being the ghost whisperer)

no but seriously she approaches the ghosts as if they do need help

if they don’t, they wouldn’t still be there, right?

she adjusts her life according to the needs of the ghosts as much as she can

and takes the time to talk to each one to learn if she’s doing good by them

of course they never respond

but she’ll know because her things will be left alone

(if the ghosts aren’t happy with the way things are, they hide her keys and make her late for work)

Elle

tells the ghosts to fuck off

they’ll start their little whispers and call out her name

and elle won’t even miss a beat before calling back “fuck off” while continuing her tasks

she doesn’t have the time for this haunted house bullshit

and they really think they can scare her???

she’ll square up with a spirit if they showed themselves bet

she’d like to see a dead bitch try her

Gideon

is the ghost

isn’t the ghost haunting spencer

but is screaming somewhere at a denny’s in tulsa thinking he’s stuck in hell

[mercurytrinemoon]

Me debunking astrology generalizations and misconceptions or smth idk...

Squares and oppositions aren't pure evil. 

I can't believe I have to say this because I thought ya'll have learnt the characteristics of every aspect but here we are. Nothing in astrology is black and white. And I saw some ridiculous statements (not necessary here on tumblr) that said things like "if your Venus squares someone's ascendant then you don't find that person attractive AT ALL". Or "Mars square Mercury people can't speak politely and have an annoying voice". Like????? First of all, that's ridiculous. Second of all, square in not "everything bad" just like trine is not "everything amazing". Squares bring tension, which leads to motivation, they’re stimulating; sometimes excitement or charisma; sometimes they can make you overdo things. I'm not saying they're oh-so-marvelous because the challenges are still there, but they're not as bad as people paint them to be. Squares happen between two signs that are in the same modality so they have a bunch of things in common. Besides, some of them (Sagi-Pisces and Gemini-Virgo) are ruled by the same planet so there's a special type of chemistry between those (especially when applied to synastry). Oppositions work in two ways, planets either meet in the middle - opposite signs usually complete each other and fuel each other up. And worse case scenario? Natally this means being pulled in two different directions; synastry-wise, you can completely miss each other like two passing cars - so there may be some misunderstandings but I don't think that's the end of the world... And, as per usual, may be mitigated by other positive aspects.

This is me debunking other people's attempts at debunking Sun sign compatibility. 

Sun IS very important but when people ask about compatibility and go with Suns... and then someone tries to be a smartass and debunk the "compatible-incompatible" and does the same thing without even realizing it. Like, "oh I actually see a lot of Aries and Pisces having amazing relationships because *insert someting that is a total stretch and refers to their Sun sign traits*"... But you seem to forget that they're neighbouring signs... which means they probably have personal planets in those neighbouring signs... which means they're compatible not because of some made-up stuff that you're trying to come up with but because their other planets are compatible with each other. But you're still feeding into the Sun sign compatibility talk. (So like, what I'm trying to also say, yes, the entire synastry chart comes into play; Also, side note, everyone can get along on some level if they’re mature enough).

Planet in a sign is NOT the same as planet in the house. 

There may be some overlaps in some of the sign-houses associations (like in the overall energy; like for example, it sort of makes sense that 3rd, 7th and 11th are referred to as “air houses” because they’re the most social) but in NO WAY there are similarities between planet house position and the "ruling" sign. That association started a few decades ago and some would say that NOT linking houses with signs is a purely traditional approach. But there’s plenty of professional modern astrologers with 20/30/40-year experience who still differentiate between sign/house position... because they know (and have learnt along the way) that there’s a huge difference.

I'll give you 3 quick examples: Gemini planets and 3rd house planets both may put emphasis on communication, mental stimulation and gathering data. But Geminis are often scattered in their approach, they may be easily distracted, may be indecisive, may be jack of all trades and talkative jokesters. They actually hate routines and dullness. "Spice it up" is probably a Gemini's philosophy. Now 3rd house planets may indicate you actually LIKE doing things on the regular - like running errands every other day in the mornings or going to that one specific coffee shop to pick up a snack. You may actually work in logistics or as a postman (especially if your chart ruler or MC ruler is in the 3rd). Planets in the 3rd talk about your siblings, neighbours or school experiences - like having Venus in the 3rd may point to positive experiences within those areas - something Gemini Venus has nothing in common.

Venus in the 9th can study at an art/beauty or fashion school (or even teach there if the MC is involved); can be very attached to spiritual and religious matters; can also find love in a foreign land. But imagine it being in Taurus - rather shy, needing those stable values to feel secure, being an exceptionally great student at that art school thanks to its domicile. Venus in Sagittarius on the other hand, likes adventure, things being shaken up from time to time, lightheartedness and exploration. But what if we flip the scenario and that Sag Venus is in the 2nd house. This can denote earing money through travelling and looking for ways to expand but in a financial matters.

Continuing with the Venus examples, having Venus in Aries is completely different than Venus in the 1st. What do people usually say about Venus in the 1st? That it makes the native charming, lovely, well-put together, with great manners, maybe beautiful, graceful, maybe a bit shallow. When in Aries? None of these characteristics fit, on top of that, it's in its detriment. Our poor gal Venus is uncomfortable and confused in Aries. She's like, "conquer? Swords? Selfishness? Obnoxiousness? Sparring? You're telling me to fight people? What am I doing here???" 

And I'll leave you here with that cause those examples weren’t that quick lol and in fact, I could give you a 100 of those. Besides, this actually inspired a 3-page rant that I've already posted not so long ago that you can read HERE.

There's no such thing as "more accurate" astrology. 

Both western and vedic are valid. Both can show you the same things. JUST KEEP THEM SEPARATE AND DON'T MIX THEM WITH EACH OTHER. And don't say things like "sidereal shows your soul" - omg I saw this statement soooo many times, who the hell even came up with this?! Actually, if anything, it's the modern western approach that "psychologized" (yea I just made up a word, you mad?) astrology while Jyotish still sticks to the very real "here and now", sometimes fatalistic predictions of how exactly your life is going to roll out... But hey, reach for hellenistic methods and they can tell you the same things, just with different tools. So no, they do not show different things, it's just their language is different.

If you say you don't identify with your chart then you're just reading it wrong.

This partially connects to the last one in some ways... Switching to a different astrology or different charts is not a solution. Learn how to read your natal. If you say it doesn’t describe you, I can guarantee you that you haven’t studied it properly. (Now this hasn't turned into a rant yet but I may actually do a whole-ass post on this because if I start elaborating on it now I'll end up with another 3-page essay).

Learn how and when to generalize. Also learn how to take generalizations. 

I understand that you have to pick up on every single thing separately in order to put everything together. It's like learning a new language: first you need to learn individual words and then you need to know the proper grammar to create a full sentence. This is 100% understandable and necessary, but it's important to take the entire thing into consideration. And this goes for all branches of astrology, but I guess it's especially annoying with synastry. This, again, comes down to the very black and white approach. You know, like when you see those long paragraphs where people elaborate on all the intricacies of Venus-Pluto aspects or whatever as if that one thing was determining the entire relationship between two people. (Side note, no shade but some of ya'll should start writing fiction or poetry cause the amount of fluffy speech and waffle that I see floating around here on tumblr is insane sometimes). Why are you wording everything as a make it or break it type of situation? And on the receiving end - learn how to take *properly phrased* generalizations constructively. Example: it IS a rule that Aries is a competitive one, maybe you're not one of them (for many reasons) but don't make a fuss about someone saying this. It IS a basic rule that energies of the same sign in two people are going to get along (well that depends on the planets involved but I digress), if that, for some other reasons, doesn't apply to you, don't go yelling that it's bullcrap because you hate people of the same sign. You know? Like, learn the difference.

DON'T SCARE PEOPLE WITH ASTROLOGY.

I had a mini-rant on this one a while ago, but I think this deserves a constant reminder (and refers to the last point), I don't want to see any more posts that would say things like "xxx house placements will bring you suffering" or "stay away from people with planets in your xxx house" or, even worse, making a (completely untrue btw) prediction based on one single thing like "someone with so-and-so aspect is going to harm you". And you're so casual about it??? You know there are sensitive people in the world. Learn some ethics. Learn some counseling skills. Don't be ignorant. Don't throw these random stuff at people just like that. And learn some actual astrology cause most of these aren't even closely describing that particual aspect. LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

Ok now I'm pissed again.

Studying astrology and believing in free will doesn’t go well together.

It's not just psychological and spiritual. It's useful to know that western astrology made it like that because there were still people threatening astrologers for using it as a divination tool. So they moved away from the predictive/deterministic aspect of it. Now, I'm not here to change anyone's beliefs cause that's a very personal thing that everyone should develop on their own. But once you start diving deeper into astrology you'd notice that there's a heavy emphasis on fatedness and things being predetermined. That includes both the good and the bad stuff and you should learn to accept that. And with the bad things specifically, let's not excuse it with some "oh that was an opportunity for growth". Like yea, maybe, occasionally??? But just acknowledge that sometimes things happen not because there was a deeper meaning in them... but because you have a Pluto-Mars conjunction in the 6th that makes an applying square to your chart ruler and you were going through a profection year where Mars was your time lord and it transited that chart ruler while making a conjunction with Neptune so you were attacked by a baby crocodile while swimming and it bit off your toe and you got a nasty infection and that’s it (I just made that up btw, I don't actually know anyone who was attacted by a crocodile). So like, sometimes shit just happens and there's nothing psychological about it. Also, I bet your free will didn't want to be attacked by that croc.

[aminiatureworld]

Frustration

Characters: Childe, Diluc, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,068 words

Premise: Commissions don’t always go as planned, much to your frustration. Luckily there’s someone there to make you feel better.

Author’s Note: So I’ve been thinking of writing Genshin stuff for months now but haven’t, for various reasons mainly that being how much this blog is already a bit of a disarrayed mess. But after awhile I decided another fandom won’t hurt. Besides I think it’s better to write something than nothing, even if the fandom keeps changing. So… yeah?

This particular scenario was basically my day today. The characters have been chosen out of my own personal will. I was going to do Zhongli as well but I’m exhausted so if this is well received perhaps I’ll do that another day.

Also I’m so tired I’m halfway to a headache and feel a bit floaty so sorry if there are grammar mistakes and such. Anyways, hope you like!

Character Banners in progress

Ao3 link in reblog

Childe

“I’m gonna kill someone.” You muttered, slamming your weapon down on the table, causing the ginger next to you to start.

“As long as that person’s not me I’ll be glad to help you.” You weren’t sure whether you found the comment worrying, insulting, or charming, and decided not to reply, instead throwing yourself in the chair across from Childe, usually reserved for customers or some member of the Fatui higherups, though today you could care less.

“Hey, am I not good enough?” Childe half whined half joked. You only grunted before getting up and walking over to his chair, plopping yourself on his lap and promptly picking at a stray thread on his coat which had caught your eye and was now becoming an increasing source of irritation.

Taking this as a sign Childe gently pried your nails away from the offending thread. Placing your palms in his gloved hands he smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Want to tell me about it?”

“It’s this stupid ley line! You know, the one in the stone forest? I was commissioned to keep an eye on it, normal stuff, but this one seems absolutely crawling with all sorts of slimes and the like, hilichurls too and a stray bandit here or there. They keeping breaking the damn thing and the minute I fix it they’re back again. At this rate I’m not going to finish it!” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, thinking of the hours you’d spent fighting with the thing. You’d even let out a few tears of frustration in the process, and having nothing to show for it was intensely irritating, to say the least.

“Poor darling.” Childe’s smirk was timeless, but there was a softness to it that you took as confirmation that he understood. I mean if anyone was going to understand it was going to be a member of the Fatui. As much as you disliked the group on principle, you did have to admit that Childe was certainly a hard worker, and running around at the whims of the far off Tsaritsa certainly had its trials.

Slumping against his chest you allowed yourself to relax a bit, some tension brought out simply by the act of telling someone about the frustrations that were building up, like someone shaking a corked bottle. Childe kissed your hands, a welcome distraction, before giving you a peck on the nose. You smiled at that, squeezing his hands. It felt good to have someone to complain to, to have someone who understood. But that was Childe, surprisingly understanding. And always looking for a fight.

“So…” as if on cue Childe spoke up, tone becoming truer, his smile becoming more foxlike. “You have something you need help fighting I hear.”

“Don’t let this get you any ideas.” You smirked right back. “I can still whip you when it comes to sparring at you know it. Besides, won’t I get in trouble if you’re there.”

“Give me half the commission rate and we’ll call it square.”

“Such a steep rate!” You gasped in fake horror, nevertheless lifting yourself off the chair. Childe was up no sooner, giving you a mischievous grin.

“Well of course! I can’t have you fleecing me out of my money. Not when I’ve already given you my heart, which is quite expensive by the way.” Giving you a quick forehead kiss he took your hand then, giving some half assed excuse to the poor desk clerk when they asked where he was going. “I have to save someone some trouble.”

You scoffed at that, but it was true. Childe was saving you a lot of trouble, and keeping your pride in some sort of piece. That was Childe. Wild, passionate, aching for a fight, perhaps not a great person – no in fact decidedly not so. But he was also surprisingly caring, reliable, and steadfast. And that was all you could ask for in the moment.

 Diluc

“Do you know where in Monstadt someone is supposed to find 50 Windwheel Asters?”

Diluc whipped his head up at that one; out of all the things he expected you to say that was certainly not one of them. It was almost closing time at the Winery, and this was normally the time when you came up to see him, chatting about this and that, waiting for him to close the ledger so you two could have some time together. In the entire history of your relationship there’d never been an evening that began such as this.

“There should be some around here, and Windrise if you’re in for a bit of a hike. But 50 is an awful lot, and I’m not sure the florists would be happy if you carted off with all their flowers.”

“I know.” You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall, picking at your fingernails. “I know that finding 50 of anything in a day is a hard task. But I was given a short noticed commission by some wealthy tradesman who’s passing by and wanted some flowers for a gala or some such thing. It’s important for the Guild that I complete these you know, and I’m not looking forward to telling Katheryne about it tomorrow.”

You sighed, glancing out the window of the Winery. You thought of all the places in Monstadt the view was perhaps loveliest here, cozy, with a view of all that made Monstadt, the planes, the forest, even a glimpse of the waterways that ran through it. But right now all you could think about was how in such a vast swath of land you’d still failed to meet the goal, you’d still turned up empty handed.

“Would you sit next to me?” Diluc’s voice broke you out of your depressing reverie and you sat down in the chair adjacent to his – a recent addition to his office – laying your head somewhat awkwardly on his shoulder, running your hands through his soft hair. You two sat in silence like that for a bit, the steady flow of Diluc’s pen keeping your eyes occupied while your hands braided and twisted at random, gentle and absentminded.

Finally the ledger was closed and Diluc turned to you. Smiling he massaged your left shoulder slightly, eliciting a sigh from you.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for things like this.” He began, his tone soft and low. “No reasonable person on Earth would ask you to gather so many flowers in a day. Even Flora doesn’t sell that many to a single customer without an order, and her whole job consists of selling flora. You’ve watched me work long enough, do you think I’d sell 50 kegs of wine to a tradesman on site?”

“No, of course not.” You mumbled. “But it’s my job to do the unconventional requests, how can I pick and choose at random? I can’t very well complete only half of my commissions.”

“Of course not, but nobody expects you to simultaneously catch 50 flowers out of thin air either. The Guild has its own regulations and rules you know, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this was a violation of one. No one doubts your prowess my dear. You’ve slain Eyes of Storms and have scaled mountains taller than most people in Monstadt might ever imagine. You done what might be considered impossible to some many times. So you should trust in the Guild and in the people of Monstadt. They aren’t well likely to turn their back on you over such a ridiculous request.”

You hummed a reply, resting your hands on Diluc’s. All he said was probably right of course, Katheryne could very well tell you how ridiculous such a request was, and no harm would come to your reputation. But your relationship with Diluc was still young, there was still so much to learn about the other, and so hearing such confident praise from him felt like a sort of gift, recompense for such a frustrating ordeal. Humming once more you leaned your head on his shoulder again. Tomorrow you would go and tell the Guild about the debacle, and let the man know the ridiculousness of his request. But tonight you just wanted to rest with the person you cherished the most. That was all you wished for.

 Xiao

“Something’s wrong.” Xiao’s voice was purposefully flat, and you wondered not for the first time how the adeptus in front of you had become so good at reading your mood, especially considering the fact that he admitted himself that his grasp on human emotions was a tricky one. He always seemed to know when you were upset at least, and your initial urge to attempt to hide your frustration immediately blew away.

“It’s been a rough day.” You admitted, standing next to him on the Wangshu Inn’s railing, letting the cool evening breeze cool you down. It’d been an obnoxiously hot day, and you were glad for any bit of fresh air. Xiao said nothing, but you could feel his gaze on you, waiting for your decision as to whether or not you’d let him know the reason you were upset. Not that it was really a question, at this point you couldn’t imagine a time when you didn’t tell Xiao practically everything, from the most mundane to those things that loomed largest in your life. You’d never met someone you trusted so much in your life before, and it felt rather freeing, knowing that he didn’t mind a bit, something that had scared you when you first began opening up to him.

“It’s just a commission, nothing ground shaking. Thankfully.” You added on, thinking of when Liyue had almost been swallowed whole; the moment when it seemed all would fail, before the miraculous traveler had bound the adept and the citizens of Liyue together. It was something you weren’t likely to forget, and something you never wished to relive. “That being said.” You added on. “It’s something that, well, is distressing me a lot.”

Xiao stood patiently as you explained to him that your deceptively simple commission of delivering food to someone had managed to go horribly awry after a group of Cryo slimes had left the food frozen solid, with the angry customer unwilling to pay or wait for a replacement.

“It wasn’t too expensive thankfully.” You remarked. “I mean it was just food. But it feels silly, and a bit embarrassing. I mean of course I should’ve paid, I don’t begrudge that. I just don’t understand how I managed to screw up something so fundamentally simple. It seems… somehow a bit of a slap in the fact. I mean, aren’t I any good?”

“Of course you are.” Xiao’s answer was firm, but not unkind. Instead it held in it the certainty of one who’d lived thousands of years, and whose trust in you was absolute. Drawing closer, the adeptus glanced around, making sure there was no one around, before slinging an arm around your own, drawing you close and running soft circles around your shoulder.

“You’re a great adventurer.” He remarked, voice filled with as much serious as there was fondness. “I’ve seen many warriors, many adventurers come and go in my time. Those whose feats will fill the pages of books and the staves of songs long after they themselves have been reduced to ashes. Those who will be called great heroes. All of them fell sometimes. And, if you must fall, I’d rather it be over something so simple as a botched food delivery.”

You glanced up into Xiao’s eyes. Normally he was reticent with words, even moreso with gestures. Every word let you deeper into someone’s life, into their past, their personality, their soul. No word was careless with Xiao. And as you stared at eyes filled with pride and love and worry, suddenly you felt as if what had just passed was small, oh so very small. There would be another commission, just as there would be another tomorrow. There’d be another failure most likely too. Many of them even. But they were small stones in a great big pond, quickly sinking out of sight and out of mind.

“I love you.” You breathed, and Xiao’s face seemed to open all of a sudden, shedding a thousand cares and a thousand worries. He pressed his forehead to your own.

“I love you too.”

[beigehearts]

Yandere adult trio: college AU These are drabbles for when they lose their mind and kill the people around you... and kidnaps you

These are going to be a little longer than usual but I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I did when writing it (also im trying out the beta version of the new posting system so lemme know if anything is weird)

Sorry this took me forever bro

CW: murder, blood, physical abuse, alcohol

Hisoka

It's getting quite annoying to be completely honest. He just won't leave you alone, constantly flirting and making passes at you. And yet at the same time he makes fun of you and is actually very mean. It wasn't so bad in the beginning but this is just getting out of hand. You made sure he was aware of this. ---- He's looming over you as he corners you against the wall. You refuse to look up at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

While you aren't looking at him, you can feel him looking at you. You already know he has that annoying grin on his face that makes you want to punch him square in the nose.

He brushes his long fingers against your face, making a quiet humming noise. "Are you ready to give up my pet?"

You ignore his words and slap his hand away from your face. "I need to get to class, move Hisoka."

He frowns though you aren't looking at his face. He opens his mouth to say something when someone from behind him calls out to you. "Hey y/n! Are you okay?"

She walks towards you but before she can get involved you shove the man away and huff. What a nuisance. You turn towards him once you're standing next to your friend and glare at him.

"Leave me alone. It's annoying and it's scaring people. Got it?" Before he can respond you turn on your heels and drag your friend down the hall by her wrist just hoping to put distance between the two of you. ---- You're pretty sure you made it clear that you don't want him near you anymore. But by now you know he doesn't give up so easily. One can only hope that he gets bored of you and finds someone else to bother.

You and your friends went out for brunch earlier, and all was well until Chelsea handed you something. She said that she found it in her bag but it was addressed to you, so you put it in your own bag.

You pour yourself a rum and coke and make yourself comfortable on the couch of your shared apartment. All of your roommates went out for drinks but you were too tired to go out.

After taking a sip of the sweet liquid in your glass, you examine the letter you were given earlier. It's a typical white envelope with your name written in pen. There's no address on it or return address so you assume it was just supposed to be handed to you.

You rip open the letter with your finger and pull out the singular loose leaf paper. It's folded in three sections so you pull it open. The handwriting is messy but in an aesthetic sort of way.

Dear y/n, I strongly suggest that you go to class 406B in the technical building tonight. Don't be late or you'll miss the whole party. 10:45 pm - see you then. I almost forgot, if you don't come I have some revealing pictures of you that I can share with anyone I wish to. XOXO

This is the strangest letter you've ever received. It's probably a prank by one of your roommates or friends. You've never sent nudes to anyone so obviously they're bluffing.

Though perhaps you should entertain your friends and go. Who knows, maybe there will be drinks. But you are tired... Maybe you'll just go to bed. You peek over to the time on your phone, it's 9:12 pm. Yeah, you'll just go to bed after you finish your drink.

'bzz' 'bzzz'

Who is texting you so late at night? You sit up and realize you fell asleep on the couch. You wipe the drool off of your face and grab your phone with distain for whoever woke you up.

It's a blocked number.

ur late

Late? Late for what? Your phone displays the time, 11:27 pm. Are your friends really this committed to their prank? They must be trying to get Tik Tok famous or some shit. Well you're awake now, you might as well head over there.

----

The moment you step into the building something seems off. If all of the lights including the emergency lights wasn't enough, the ground seems sticky. Though you can't bring yourself to use your phone flash light to see what it is.

Eventually you find the room 406B in the darkness. The door is closed and no lights are on in the room. It seems as if no one is inside. As you reach for the handle of the door, you notice something on the window of the door. You can barely make it out, but there's what looks like a hand print. You chuckle, this must be a prank.

Now feeling a little better, you open the door and step inside. It's too dark to see anything but you can make out some figures in the dark. It must be your friends thinking they're being sneaky.

You roll your eyes and look for the light switch, finding it and switching it on. You squint at the sudden light, and your eyes begin to focus. Which you wish they never did.

There is blood everywhere, on the ceiling, the windows, the floor, the tables... But that's not the most jarring part. Your friends are sitting in chairs, one of them sitting on the ground against the wall.

There is your friend Chelsea, sitting in a chair with her head tipped down. You can't even tell what color her clothes originally were, they're covered in red, a dark dark red. Next to her is Derick, he's sitting the same way except his head is tipped backwards. His eyes are wide and his face is left in permanent horror- expressing the brutality of his end. You can't bare to look anymore, you drop to your knees and cover your face with your hands.

You scream and scream until your voice is hoarse and throat is raw. You're left coughing while you are drowned by your own tears.

"Are you ready to give up yet?" A deep voice asks from in front of you.

You can't stop the flow of tears as you look up at this monster. He's also covered in blood, and some is splattered on his face. He wipes a thumb across his face in the blood, and brings it to his lips. Sobs rack your body, you can't even make sense of this.

Hisoka squats down so you're face to face and grips your jaw bone tightly in his hand. You can feel the now cold substance being rubbed against your jaw by his fingers and it makes you want to puke.

"I got tired of waiting for you." His grin is nauseating, forcing you to stop yourself from puking.

His nails dig into your skin, mixing your own blood with that of your friend's. He brings his face close to yours and in a gentle but menacing tone he croaks, "Let's stop this childish game, alright y/n?"

Illumi

It's easy to miss things when you're caught up with the rush of classes and friends and love. All of the parties and hangovers are enough to satisfy your needs for entertainment and drama in this boring life. If you didn't fill up your daily life with these acts, you would probably sleep every day away until you fell into a coma.

To put it short, you're a busy body. And busy bodies don't have time to stop and look around at what is happening. For example, how were you to notice the key under your doormat was missing, or how your dresser drawers were left slightly open when you know you closed them before leaving. Noticing these small things are definitely not on your agenda.

It's 10 am, Saturday, and you don't have any classes or work today. You're sitting at the kitchen bar, drinking coffee and chatting with your roommate. It isn't often that you have a free day, and sometimes it is nice to have even if you want to get moving. The sun is peeking through the curtains and the aroma of espresso beans is a delight. It's a bit chilly so you have a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. What a peaceful morn-

'BANG BANG'

Your roommate eyes you when someone bangs on the front door, already knowing the events that are about to take place. She rolls her eyes and stomps up the stairs to her room, not wanting to get involved. You always feel bad that your roommates have to listen to this but you're really not sure how to end it.

You take your last peaceful sip of coffee and call out, "Come in!"

Before you can even finish your sentence, he storms inside and slams the door behind him. Your boyfriend of course is mad about something you've done. He trudges towards you and moves the stool next to you out of the way, and leans towards you so his face is next to yours.

"Are you kidding me y/n?!" He yells in your ear, but you don't flinch because you're used to this.

He rips his phone from his pocket and shoves it in your face after pulling up a screenshot. It's a conversation between you and his friend.

"Can't you learn to shut your damn mouth? This is our business and you have no right to tell anyone about it!" He's practically seething with rage.

You take a last sip of coffee and set your mug down on the counter. You continue facing forward and not facing him. "It's not our business, it's yours. And I asked him if it was true that you were cheating on me." You turn your head towards him while grimacing and mutter, "Again."

Ah but you've just lighted a bomb with your words.

His face has gone red and he looks like he's about to explode. You begin wondering why you were ever attracted to him.

"Maybe if you weren't such a prude! I can't even kiss my girlfriend whenever I want, it's ridiculous. You know full well that you're so... so... Ugh! You know what? Fuck you!"

As quickly as he came, he runs out of the house, slamming the door once again.

You whisper to yourself, "Fuck you too."

God he's such a child, you don't even want to be with him anymore. But every time you decide to break up with him he suddenly becomes Mr.Perfect. "I'm so sorry." "I love you." "Let me make it up to you." And then he does make it up to you only to tear down all of his hard work.

----

It's been a few days since your big fight with your boyfriend. He hasn't talked to you at all but this isn't uncommon for him. You promised your roommates that you would break up with him, not just for yourself but for the sake of their peace and quiet.

You texted him a few times while you were at work but he left you on read. He's so petty. So you text him one last time.

Come 2 my place at 8 tonight, We need to talk

He answers immediately which surprises you.

Can't, flat tire Come to my place

It doesn't make a difference to you where it is so that's fine. You wonder if maybe he's come to terms with the fact this needs to end. Hopefully so. If there's one thing you want him to be mature about, it's this.

Your shift ends at 6:30pm. You drive home, shower, get dressed, eat something and get ready to leave.

You send one last text,

OMW

It's read immediately but there's no response. Well, it's not like you expected much from him anyway. You drive to his house at 7:45 pm, and arrive around 7:58 pm. All of the lights in his town house are on. He's a few years older than you so he has his own house due to somehow being able to hold down a job. With his anger issues it's hard to believe that he can hold onto anything. Damn, he really is an unattractive person isn't he?

You step out of your car and lock it. Now that you're out of the car you realize that it's very quiet. This is unusual for when you go to his house, normally you can hear music or the sound affects of a shitty video game. But it's silent. Maybe he's waiting for you? He must be taking this well.

You step up the creaky stairs of the house, and knock on the equally as creaky door. No response. Maybe he's sleeping? You peek into the mail box and take out the extra key for the house from it. But when you go to unlock the door, it's already unlocked. This is becoming very strange.

You push open the door and peer into the dark living room. It's not too dark that you can't make out the furniture in the darkness. You step inside and shut the door behind you, it's still quiet. Not quiet, absolutely and undeniably silent. You flick the light on and look around again, nothing seems out of place. It's messy, with empty beer cans and bottles on the ground per usual. The stains on his carpet remain untouched, including the vomit stain in the corner.

"Jay?" You call out into the still atmosphere. Nothing. Is he not home? That can't be, his car is in the driveway.

The sound of his old floor boards being stepped on echoes through the house. What the hell is he trying to pull? You look up the stairs, but it's only darker up there than it was down here. He must be drunk.

Each step you take up the stairs, your heart begins to pound faster. Something feels off, this doesn't feel right. This isn't like your boyfriend, he's simple, he wouldn't try scaring you like this. On the top step, you feel your shoe touch something soft. You lean down and pick it up, and raise it up to your face. A pair of thongs that definitely aren't yours. So that's what's happening. He couldn't even pull himself together for one night.

Your pounding heart is no longer caused by fear but anger. He's cheated too many times to count on your hands, but this time makes you angrier than you've ever been. He's never been in bed with another woman knowing that you were coming over. This is fucking ridiculous.

You stomp towards his room and kick the door open. It's dark but you can tell that there are two people in bed. Your vision has gone red, you've never been this angry in your life.

You don't bother turning the lights on, you storm over to his side of the bed and rip the covers off. Just barely you can make out a woman sleeping next to him. You grab his shoulder tightly and shake him violently to wake him up.

"Get the fuck up Jay! Get! Up!" He doesn't respond, you lean down and yell in his ear like he always does to you. "You're such a childish piece of shit!"

He still doesn't move or speak, for fuck's sake. You stomp back to the entrance of the room and flick on the light. You turn around and begin walking back towards the bed, when you're stopped in your tracks.

Everything is red, but it's not your vision anymore. The bed has been dyed red, and his naked body is covered in it. Your mouths falls open but no screams come out. The woman next to him is splayed out on the bed, naked as well. Covered in red. You look down at the hands that touched your boyfriend, they're also red.

You rush over to the bed and shake your boyfriend again.

"Jay? Jay! Can you hear me?" You put your ear to his chest but you don't hear anything. You put your finger under his nose but don't feel anything.

"Hey! Hey! Wake up! This isn't funny!" Tears stream down your face as you pull him to your chest, cradling him.

Your sobs make it hard to speak and your chest begins to hurt. "J-... Jay... This- isn't-" You gasp between each word, "Funny..."

It's only when you hear a noise coming from behind you that you stop to think about what's going on. It doesn't matter to you though, they could kill you too if they wished.

"People are strange." You turn your head to see where the voice is coming from.

It's someone you don't recognize, he's tall, pale, has long hair, and hypnotizing eyes. Your sobs cease for a moment and you hug your boyfriend tighter to you.

"All of that fighting... You were even coming here to break up with him and yet... You're sad that he's gone?" He makes his way towards you slowly, "I've done you a favor, haven't I?"

He looms over you but all you can do is stand there, frozen by fear.

The man grabs the back of your shirt and pulls you violently from Jay. You try to run back to him, but the man pulls you to him, hugging you tightly. No matter how much you flail in his grasp you can't get away from him. You're left sobbing into his shirt, your body limp in his arms.

"Why?" You manage to whisper.

He holds you to him with one arm and pets your hair with his other hand. "You were miserable. He was making you miserable."

He sighs and kisses the top of your head. What is going on?

"Come on, don't waste your energy on human garbage. I'm here, so it's fine." He states it so 'matter of fact'.

"Who?" Is all you can ask, unable to finish your question.

"I guess I haven't introduced myself yet. Illumi is my name." With ease, he grabs you by your shoulders and lifts your face up to his. "Your future husband."

Chrollo

What more could you ask for? You already have easy college classes, fun parties, a good part time job, great friends, and an amazing best friend. Tonight you're going to hang out with a bunch of friends and have drinks at one of their apartments. It's a pretty normal Thursday night, nothing odd about it.

You're waiting for your best friend to pick you up, he's always there to pick you up on the dot. If he doesn't come early that is. You shove all the essentials into your bag and hear a honk outside. Must be him.

But of course you're always tardy. You lace up your shoes and run out of the dorm room, tripping out of the building. He's watching as you stumble towards the car since one of your shoes is already unlaced. When you finally flop down in the passenger seat he shakes his head with a knowing smile.

"Oh y/n, will you ever be organized?" He asks with amusement.

You click your tongue and straighten out your clothes, "Don't ask such stupid questions."

He turns his body towards you as much as possible and pats his lap. You instinctively know what that means. You hike your foot up above the console and put your foot on his lap. He begins tying your shoe, his smile is unmoving. He's always smiling.

"Chrollo, you don't need to baby me." You roll your eyes and groan.

He laughs and pats your leg, signaling that he's done. "If not me then who?"

You swing your leg back over to your side and buckle up. The two of you hang out a lot. Since you're both going to the hangout tonight, you decided to car pool. But first you're going to go get the alcohol. Everyone has to bring something for everyone, that way you guys can get wasted with no qualms.

You plug your phone into the aux and play your shared playlist. The first song that comes on is "The Cult of Dionysus" by The Orion Experience. Something that he added.

Finally you feel like you can relax, it always feels that way around Chrollo. His presence is just, comforting, in every way. You feel like you can do anything, say anything, ask for anything. He's always there for you with no exceptions and honestly you think you may have feelings for him. But it's a question of are you confusing comfort and friendly affection for romanticism. It's just that he's so perfect, he doesn't have a single flaw. Not one that you've ever seen at least. You probably never will see one of his flaws.

You sink into the seat and sigh.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, but quickly looks back at the road. "What's the matter?"

"Oh nothing... Just, everything is good."

He knows you better than anyone, so it's an obvious lie when you say this. "But what?"

Anytime he calls you out, you surrender and tell him everything. "Everything is so great you know." He nods with your statement. "I go to a good school, have good friends, have a good job." This has been on your mind for quite some time.

"Something is missing, you know? The excitement, the... the..." You chuckle and turn towards him and put up jazz hands, "The pizzazz!"

He doesn't turn to look at you but you know he saw you when his smile widens. "I get that. Maybe you just need to step outside of your comfort zone. Do something different."

Do something different? Yeah, maybe that is what you need.

----

All eleven of you are sitting in a circle on the ground, drinking and playing never have I ever. You take a long drink of your Mike's hard lemonade, which is just something to get the night going.

Dina wipes hair from her face and smiles, "Okay okay my turn. So never have I ever.... Uhh." She pops up when she thinks of something, "Never have I ever jumped out of a window."

DJ leans forward and raises an eyebrow, "Okay what kind of window we talking? High up? First floor?"

Dina answers, "Any kind, any kind of window." The majority of you put a finger down which makes the group burst out in laughter.

Your friend Zoey finishes off her bottle and slams it down on the floor. "Let's play something else."

"Like what?" One of your friends ask.

Zoey thinks for a moment, "Like... Truth or dare, spin the bottle. Or maybe eleven minutes in heaven."

Dj interjects, "I think it's seven minutes in heaven, not eleven."

"Oh whatever DJ, they rhyme." Zoey spits back.

Lex answers, "Let's play seven minutes in heaven!"

Of course DJ huffs and rolls his eyes, "What are we? Middle schoolers?"

Guac (which is his nickname) speaks up, "Oh come on, are you shy DJ?"

Finally the quiet Chrollo sitting next to you says something, "I'm not really interested. Right y/n?" He looks at you to back him up.

The group coos at the two of you and someone says, "We get it, you got something going on. The game is just for fun, don't be so serious Chrollo."

Chrollo opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off, "Hey, you told me to do something different. Maybe this is the first step."

His face shows betrayal and you feel a squeeze in your heart.

He stands up and glares at the group, "Whatever." He storms out of the apartment, and everyone mumbles to each other. Chrollo has never acted like this so this is quite a shock to everyone.

In order not to kill the mood you speak up, "Alright, let's pull names out of a hat!"

All of you write down your names on a small piece of paper and put it in a baseball cap. Dina pulls two names out of the hat and of course makes it a dramatic event.

"Alright so first we have the most lovely of people..." She looks at the group like a teacher waiting for an answer from her class. "Gracie!" Everyone claps and she stands up in front of all of you, taking a bow.

Dina pats her thighs rapidly, "Drum roll please!" Everyone obeys her, "The next hot piece of ass is y/n!"

You stand up and curtsey, taking Gracie's hand and leading her to the closet. Dina stands in front of the closet once both of you are inside and grins, "Timer starts now kids." She shuts the door on you two and all of your friends cheer from outside.

Here comes the awkward part. It's too dark to see her expression but you already know she's blushing.

You lean towards her and in a low voice so no one else can hear say, "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

She shakes her head, and you brush a hand through her dark coils. The both of you giggle when your finger gets stuck in her hair. She leans in for a kiss, but before your lips meet you're interrupted.

The front door is opened and slammed shut, you hear the lock click as well.

"Hey Chrollo, you feeling better?" "What are you doing?" "Holy shit, please, what are you doing?!" "Are you fucking crazy? This isn't funny!"

Something slams against the closet door and Gracie yelps.

"Whoa whoa, we can work something out." They sound desperate "Back up!" You hear a loud thump and then screams. "Grab him guys!" It sounds like people are running around, but soon the screams become not those of only fear but of pain. There are gargled pleas and pathetic whimpers for mercy.

You and Gracie hold each other, gripping onto one another for dear life.

Soon the screams, pleas, thuds, gurgling, all of it ends. The apartment goes quiet and you try to silence your heavy breathing.

There's a loud thud right in front of the closet and then the doors are opened abruptly. There Chrollo is, covered in blood, and you can see the bodies of your friends behind him. Before you can react, he pulls Gracie away from you, slams the doors closed and there's another thud.

Gracie's screams are blood curdling, screeches and cries for help. You try to open the doors but something is blocking it, keeping them closed. As her screams get louder you throw yourself against the doors, trying to push whatever is there out of the way.

Before you can even imagine of getting out, the screams fade out into whimpers, and into nothing.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

You're given no time to think when the doors fly open and you're face to face with Chrollo. He's blocking out the light and his usually neat clothes are crumpled and bloody. You look down to his hands, a sledge hammer hangs from his fingers, dripping with your friend's blood.

"Ch-Chrollo... Please don't." You whisper.

The sledge hammer drops to the ground and he wraps his arms around you gently. "Oh y/n. I would never hurt you."

He's so gentle with you, so gentle. It almost makes you forget what just happened, because he feels like home. "Why? Why did you do this?"

He steps back and grabs your shoulders, he leans down so he's eye to eye with you. "They crossed a line, a line that should not be crossed."

You begin to speak but he grabs your cheeks with one hand and dawns his usual smile, "You don't need them. You have me." He kisses your squished lips as if it were normal. "Right y/n?"

Slowly you nod, you don't need them. If Chrollo says it, it must be true.

"Good girl."

[heysatori]

Hey! I am new to your blog, but I binged everything, hehe, and I think you're amazing! Could you maybe do hcs with Bakusquad and todoroki with a s/o who is scared to let them meet their parents because they're the strict type who think that once you're in a relationship it basically means you intend to marry the person?

Bakusquad and Todoroki with an s/o who has strict parents

Genre: fluff  Pairings: Bakugou x reader, Kirishima x reader, Sero x reader, Kaminari x reader, Mina x reader, Jirou x reader, Shinsou x reader, Todoroki x reader a/n: this took me so long im so sorry but wow this took a lot of energy out of me JFJFSJKFA i hope i got what you wanted anon ! (─‿‿─)♡

Bakugou Katsuki

you and katsuki have been dating for quite a while now 

he had already invited you to his house and you coincidentally met his parents ! 

he hadnt expected them to be there but they coddled u like there was no tomorrow !! (─‿‿─)♡

they asked u tons of question and u even cooked dinner with masaru ! 

it was a great bonding experience !

katsuki was ofc not happy with this becuz he only wanted u to himself ┌∩┐(◣_◢)┌∩┐

after dinner he hauled u to his room and demanded cuddles 

after that though, he lowkey expected that u would to introduce him to ur parents too 

just so things are fair and square

but after numerous hints u still havent gotten the clue ! so he just confronts u abt it 

but softly 

“so when am i gonna meet your parents?” 

you kinda turn to him a little hesitantly 

your parents are pretty strict 

they didnt even know you were dating bakugou at all 

all they knew was that you were doing very well at UA 

“uh do you want to meet them?”

“well its just, you met mine, so that means i can meet yours right?”

bakugou looks so tiny like that he justs pouting a little with his arms crossed over his chest

“i mean, theyre really strict baby, im not even allowed to be dating you right now”

bakubabes kinda shocked so he just asks u more questions 

“what do you mean??”

“well if i am to date someone, they want that person to be like my future spouse or something, so its either all or nothing for them”

“tch, me? marry you? in your dreams” 

u alrdy know bakugou is teasing but u hit him nonetheless 

lets just say you both agree to not bring him home for a while 

Kirishima Eijirou

you had already met kirishima’s mothers a few weeks back during an impromptu outing the mall with his family 

there were lovely of course ! and kirishima is the living proof of all their hard work into making one of the nicest boys in the whole world 

after that though 

kiri had gotten a little hopeful that you’d introduce him to your parents as well 

soon enough he couldnt keep it in and it eventually came out in word vomit 

“huh, you want to meet my parents?” 

kiri just nodded meekly and settled down on your bed, patting the space next to him 

you plop down and pull him into a hug, cradling him against your chest 

“uh listen baby, my parents, theyre not like yours” 

“huh, what do you mean?”

“well theyre kinda strict, they dont even want me dating in the first place, plus if you do meet them, theyre expecting that you’ve already thought out how youre going to ask for my hand in marriage or something like that”

“i mean, i can marry you now if you want?”

you splutter over your words and push kirishima off your chest 

“whaaaaat im serious!!” 

after that you and kirishima have a thorough discussion on why he cant ask you to marry him just yet 

Sero Hanta 

hes pretty chill about the idea of meeting your parents and you meeting his

he isnt really going to plan anything but if anything happens to happen then he’ll just go with the flow 

his parents had invited you over to dinner after they managed to spot you at a random shopping center

sero was FLUSHED !! but he let it happen, walking a little behind his parents so he could hold your hand 

after that though things are totally chill 

he doesnt really expect to meet your parents 

as he didnt plan you meeting his parents either 

but he does ask you what theyre like ! 

one day while you were cuddling he just looks up at you and asks you, “what are your parents like?”

“theyre pretty traditional”

“what kind of traditional?”

“the ‘are you prepared to marry my child and provide for them for the rest of your life?’ kind of traditional’

sero kinda just wheezes at your answer at your answer and leaves it alone for awhile

Kaminari Denki

hes kinda insistent on meeting ur parents 

but only because he knows that its like the special bases of relationships 

plus he also wants to meet the wonderful people who created you 

he introduced you to his parents on your 5th month of dating 

cuz he just wants the people he loves the most to interact with each other 

plus with how much he talks about you home, they were also quite eager to meet you

so of course he is kinda gonna be insistent 

one day he runs up to your room and presents a fancy night with you, him, and your parents 

he pushes you in and explains it to you thoroughly !! 

you feel kinda bad to tell him that this might not happen 

“im sorry bug, but im not sure if we can do this with my parents” 

hes shocked ! he sits up a little for a moment but he ends up sagging in sadness after a while 

“but why” 

and hes pouting !! 

you feel so sad about hurting him about this 

“my parents are really strict, they might not approve of you baby, they’ll probably even ask you if youre gonna marry me or something”

“i will marry you though!!” 

Mina Ashido

like denki she’s a little persistent

she’s just very enthusiastic about you and everything about you

so that includes your home life

she already introduced you to her parents long ago 

so shes pretty expectant 

she always kinda brings it up 

“so when can i meet your parents” is a common phrase you hear from her 

you kinda dismiss her questions and you change the topic after that 

but after a while she gets fed up and confront you about it 

and although you feel bad you still feel a little reluctant to tell her 

you didnt wanna ruin anything just cuz your parents are stupidly strict 

but you decide to tell her anyway 

you explain to her how strict your parents are but she doesnt really get the gist of it 

“what do you mean though?”

“well, they’ll probably ask you if youre ready to marry me or something” 

“of course i am!” 

you fluster at her words 

she cuddles up to u and doesnt let u leave her arms after that

Jirou Kyouka

shes kinda shy about those things

so she usually just focuses on you and only you 

she never really thought about meeting your parents until the squad (mainly denki and mina) asked about it 

“what do you mean when am i gonna meet their parents?” 

“thats like!! the biggest step in a relationship!! if you dont meet their parents youre probably not gonna be long term!” 

jirou dismisses mina’s statement and leaves to find you 

although it does sound a little ridiculous, she is kinda nervous about that 

was she not enough for your parents?

she finds you in your room and beats around the bush for a while before getting straight to the point, kinda

“so uh you wanna exchange parents?’

“what”

“no, sorry, i mean, like, wanna meet my parents and ill meet yours?”

youve heard stories about kyouka’s parents and they sound pretty awesome so in your mind you agree immediately

but the thought of kyouka meeting your annoyingly traditional parents sounded like a nightmare 

“i dont think you’ll like my parents” 

she asks a simple way and you give her a simple answer 

shes totally cool with it cuz yeah she doesnt like overly traditional people 

so you both end up just laying down and cuddling together 

Shinsou Hitoshi

i dont think he really cares about meeting your parents 

not that he doesnt care about your parents

no hes sure that they are lovely people 

its just that shinsou is a litlte anti social as it is and likes to keep meeting new people to a minimum 

but monoma kinda bugs him on it 

egging him on to take initiative in your relationship for once and make a big step for the both of you 

so one day, shinsou walks up to you begrudgingly with monoma hiding behind a wall nearby 

(this is exactly what it looked like when monoma forced shinsou to gain the courage to ask you out) 

“so, can i uh, meet your parents?” 

you kinda laugh at how he asked it so weirdly 

“where did this come from?”

“monoma said i need to man up and take initiative in our relationship and make a big step so that we can stay together forever” 

you laugh even harder but you cant help but have your heart melt at shinsou’s purpose taking to you now 

it may not seem like it but he really does want to have you around forever 

“theyre pretty strict and traditional baby, you sure you wanna meet them?” 

he turns around and monoma gives him a firm face and a thumbs up 

shinsou turns back around and nods firmly 

you cant help but laugh again at how adorable he looks 

moving to wrap your arms around his neck you give him a small peck on the cheek 

Todoroki Shouto 

todoorki’s had his fair share of experience when it comes to parents 

so hes not entirely eager to meet your parents 

but he does think about it every now and then 

for sure not everyone is going to be like his father 

but hes got quite a foul mouth and no brain to mouth filter when he does speak 

but he knows respect 

just dont cross his line 

he doesnt really bring up meeting your parents for a while 

iida had asked about it once since it was a formal thing to do when gaining a significant other 

todoroki simply shrugged and said he’ll think about it 

and he did think about it 

later that day after training he approached you, pulling on your arm to bring you closer to him 

he soon pulled you to a stop by the side of the hallway, stepping rather close to you 

“can i meet your parents?”

“eh??” 

it was so sudden that you couldnt help your surprise 

neither of you talk much about your parents (except for Rei who you had met a while back) 

“well, I don’t think you’ll like them sweetie” 

“I’m sure they’re lovely” 

“Well, they’re just a tiny bit like your dad, not the abuse, but the uhm, in the traditional sense?” 

todoroki nods firmly and pulls you to stay under his arm as you resume walking back to the dorms 

“well, my mother will be your mother-in-law soon enough so you don’t need to worry”

[haidyn-reeves]

I’ve Got You

Square: Cuddling Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 2352 Warnings: If cuddling Dean Winchester is a warning, then you’ve been warned. Lil’ bit of angst but lotta bit of fluff! Summary: When Dean loses control during a hunt, Y/N makes sure he knows he’s not alone. A/N: For @spnmixedbingo​ and @spnfluffbingo​!

Over the years, Y/N witnessed the many sides of Dean Winchester, but she wasn’t prepared to see him so torn up and uneasy now that he bore the Mark of Cain. He thought she didn’t notice the flinches, winces, and the grabs at his arm. It was no secret that the Mark was affecting him somehow. She heard him tossing and turning in the room next to hers at night, she saw the longing stares at the bottles of liquor. The Mark made him terrifying when he needed to be, but he was the most vulnerable when he was alone with his thoughts. Dean wanted to create space between them, he knew he could snap at any minute and the thought of hurting Y/N because of the Mark he asked for made him sick.

It was a particularly rough day. Dean lost control again during the hunt, leaving Sam and Y/N bewildered as they stared at the man, First Blade in his shaking hands. Y/N wanted nothing more than to run to his side, to wrap him in her arms and remind him that he was still the greatest man she knew, but the sight of the blade made her stomach turn. Dean had created so much distance between himself and his girl that she wasn’t even sure he’d welcome her embrace.

“Dean, drop the blade,” Sam urged, trying to remain calm so as not to alarm his brother.

“Dean, you’re okay. It’s over,” Y/N soothed, her voice shaking. Sam put his arm out to keep her behind him.

Dean began to come to, snapping out of whatever daze he was in. He blinked his eyes a few times, looking around the room at the slaughtered vampires and their victims. He looked down at his hands, seeing all the blood covering his skin and his clothes. He dropped the Blade as if it were on fire, burning his skin to the touch.

“Kick it over to me, Dean.”

Dean looked up at his brother, slowly getting to his feet and nudging the Blade in Sam’s direction with his foot, refusing to look at Y/N before leaving the warehouse and making his way to Baby. Sam shrugged off his flannel and bent down to pick up the Blade, wrapping it in his shirt.

“Sam, what do we do? He hasn’t had the Mark that long and it already has a hold on him.”

“For now, we keep this blade far away from him. Without the temptation of the blade maybe it’ll calm down enough for us to figure out a better plan.”

“How are we going to keep it from him? You know Dean, if he wants something, he gets it.”

“Leave it to me, for now let’s get him home and I’ll take care of it.”

Y/N nodded, following Sam out of the warehouse. They found Dean attempting to clean himself up, though he was still covered in now-dried blood and his skin was stained red. 

“Hey Dean, how about I drive and you try to get some rest. Y/N can sit up front with me and you can take the back seat to stretch out. We’ll be home soon and then you can clean up properly.”

As if still in a daze, Dean gave a brief nod before climbing into the back seat, passing the keys to Sam before making himself comfortable. Y/N sighed quietly, getting into the passenger’s seat beside Sam as he started the engine, driving them back to the Bunker.

The ride was quiet, Dean having passed out sooner than expected. Y/N was fighting sleep, too anxious about Dean to allow herself to rest. Her heart ached for the older hunter. Simply put, she missed him. She never expected him to ask for a break or space from their relationship. All she wanted to do was help him through this mess but all he wanted to do was keep her safe. He didn’t care that she trusted him with her life; he didn’t trust himself with it while bearing the Mark. 

When Baby pulled into the garage, Sam gently shook Dean awake, throwing his hands up in defense when his brother shot up alarmed. 

“Dean it’s just us, we’re home. Let’s get you inside, yeah?” Dean climbed out of the back seat and stormed into the Bunker, leaving Sam and Y/N to carry in the bags. 

“I guess he remembered what happened and now we have grumpy Dean.” Sam looked down at Y/N, giving her a sad smile.

“Listen, I know you two are on a little break, but I can’t comfort him the way you can, and I know my brother, and I know right now he’s hurting, he’s confused, and he’s upset with himself. He may not want to admit it but he does need you, way more than he’s ever let on.”

“I don’t want to disrespect his wishes, Sam.”

“I know, but I’m telling you, he needs you. Go on, I’ll grab the bags.” He gave her a gentle nudge in the Bunker door’s direction, chuckling as she made her way into the underground fortress.

Y/N followed the twists and turns of the hallway until she got to her bedroom, finding Dean’s door closed next to hers. She knocked on his door, turning the knob when she didn’t hear a response. The man was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor with his hands on his thighs.

“Dean…? Can I run you a bath? Help you clean up?”

“No,” he answered gruffly, still refusing to meet her eyes. 

“Dean, you asked for space. I’m giving you space, but I never agreed to not take care of you, especially when you need it. You take care of everyone else, let yourself be taken care of for once.” Dean didn’t budge and Y/N pursed her lips, going to his dresser and pulling out a henley and sweatpants. “You seem to have forgotten that I don’t take no for an answer, so let’s go.”

Dean rolled his eyes and got up, following Y/N to the bathroom down the hall. She handed him the clothes she picked out, stopping outside the bathroom door. “My aromatherapy body wash is under the sink if you’d like to use it. Always calms me down after a rough day. If you need anything, holler.” She watched him enter the bathroom before going back to her room to change into her pajamas and unpack her duffel. She finished getting ready for bed at the sink in the corner of her room, waiting to hear Dean come down the hall and enter his room. She had no idea how she was going to approach the situation, she just knew she needed to do something to make sure Dean knew he wasn’t alone in dealing with the Mark.

She was packing her duffel away when she heard Dean’s footsteps coming closer to her room before he entered his own. She gave him a few minutes to get settled, taking the time to handle her nerves. What the hell was she nervous about? This was Dean, her man, there was no reason to be this nervous. She took a deep breath before knocking on his bedroom door, hearing an agitated grunt as a response. She rolled her eyes and pushed the door open, finding Dean in the same position as earlier, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring at the floor. His damp hair was standing up in every direction, indicating he had run his fingers through it a ridiculous amount of times while he stewed in his irritation.

“Dean,” she sighed, closing the door behind her.

“Y/N,” he grunted, turning his head away from her. She shook her head, crossing the distance between the doorway and his bed. “Y/N, no-“

She ignored his protests, straddling his thighs and sitting down on his lap. When he refused to meet her gaze, she cupped his cheeks and gently turned his head, making his pretty olive eyes lock with hers. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he huffed, though it was easy to see that his guard was slowly crumbling down. Y/N smiled, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. She kissed his temple, resting her cheek against his as she held him, his body tense against hers.

“Dean, you can hug me back.”

“Don't wanna hurt you,” he mumbled, mostly talking into her shoulder.

“You won’t hurt me, and even if you do, you taught me how to defend myself. I could take you.”

“Not a chance.”

“Dean Winchester, if you don’t hug me back, I will tickle you. And don’t you dare say you aren’t ticklish, I’ve heard you squeal like a little girl if someone so much as pokes your side wrong.”

“Y/N you’re such a pain,” Dean huffed again, limply wrapping his arms around her waist.

“You can do better than that.” Dean rolled his eyes, tightening his hold on her. “I’m supposed to be your pain, Dean.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, his body starting to relax. He buried his face in her shoulder, Y/N rocking them from side to side carefully. 

“You don’t have to do this alone, Dee. Sam and I, we want to help you. Any way we can. And don’t you even try to say you can handle it on your own. I know you can, you’re the strongest man I know, but this? This isn’t something anyone should have to do alone, nor is it something you deserve.”

“Yes I do,” he whispered. “I’ve done terrible things-“

“Darling, the amount of good you’ve done surely outweighs anything bad you’ve ever done. You’ve saved so many lives, Dee. You stopped the apocalypse. You saved the literal world. You don’t deserve anything less than everything good this world has to offer. You’re not a bad person, Dean. I’m not just saying that. I genuinely believe your heart is good. None of us would be here without you.”

“I’m scared.” The words tasted foreign on his tongue. Dean was never one to discuss his feelings, not liking to be vulnerable. Y/N and Sam were the exceptions, he felt comfortable sharing some of his feelings with them, but he’d never told anyone he was scared before.

“It’s okay to be scared, Dean. It’s a scary Mark and a scary burden to bear. But you don’t have to face it alone.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, his grip continuing to tighten as he held onto Y/N, almost for dear life. He hated that he pushed her away to cope on his own and now he desperately wanted her back. He nudged his face further into the crook of her neck, his fingers squeezing the material of her pajama top.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I need you.”

“I’ve got you,” she pulled back slightly, kissing his forehead. “How about we lay down yeah? You need to get some sleep, babe.”

Dean nodded, letting go of Y/N so they could crawl into his bed. She scooted behind him, spooning him, Dean sinking back against her front. She reached for his right hand, interlocking their fingers and squeezing softly. She looked down at the Mark on his arm and cringed. “Does it hurt?”

“Feels like when you have pins and needles and sunburn all at the same time,” he winced. He pulled their interlocked fingers up to his chest, holding her hand over his heart tightly. Y/N smiled, dipping her head down to press a soft kiss to the back of his neck. He shuddered in her hold, smiling to himself as he tucked himself under her chin.

“I told you you’re ticklish,” she teased. 

“Felt nice though, made me relax.” Y/N smiled, nuzzling her nose at the back of his neck. “I love you, you know.”

“I know Dean, I love you, too. Every inch of your stubborn ass.”

“I was trying to be cute.”

“You don’t have to try, you just are,” she giggled. “But seriously, please don’t push me away, babe. I’m here for you, I’ve got you, always. I want to help in any way I can.”

Dean melted in her embrace, relaxing against her. “I just don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart. The Mark, it takes over sometimes and I don’t want you to be the one that gets hurt because of it.”

“Dean…I know you’re trying to protect me, and I appreciate that and love that about you…but maybe you need to let me and Sam try to protect you for a bit. Just until you get a handle on the Mark and learn to understand it better.”

Dean brought their interlocked hands from his chest to his lips, kissing the back of her hand before turning over in her arms to face her. “If it gets to be too much for you, I need you to promise me you’ll walk away.”

“Dean-“

“Y/N, I’m serious. If I agree to this, I need to know that when it gets too dangerous, you’ll be safe. Promise me.”

Y/N stared into Dean’s eyes, those pretty green orbs always able to say what he wouldn’t allow himself to voice out loud. The worry was evident, but the love was enough to make her heart stop in her chest. She knew she could never actually walk away from him when he needed her most, but if it made him feel better to hear her say it, she could give him that much.

“Y/N-“

“I promise, Dean.” She brushed her lips against his in a soft kiss, sealing the deal.

“Thank you,” he sighed with relief, pulling her impossibly closer. He showered her cheeks in kisses, making her squeal and squirm as his days-old scruff tickled her skin. “Missed this.”

“Missed you.”

“Well played,” he hummed, combing his fingers through her hair as she snuggled into his chest. “Remind me never to do that again.”

“Oh trust me, Winchester. I will.”

Tagging: @lyarr24​ @gia-25​ @waywardrose13​

[edie-baby]

Baby Boy Chapter 8 | Lando Norris

Summary: Milana Navratilova is the best friend of Victoria Verstappen, and is for lack of a better word, a minx. She can pull anyone into bed with her at any time. So when she attends the Austrian Grand Prix with Victoria, the drivers make for good bedfellows. Until she finds a man who makes her finally feel like herself. Her baby boy.

Taglist: @its-astrotea-love

Warnings: smut, swearing, non-con kiss (will be a chapter warning for that one), OC is a w h o r e and i love her.

Victoria and Milana walked through the bustling paddock on Thursday, reporters, journalists, PR reps, and drivers were all running around to fill their media duties, as after today, the sole focus would be on getting the best results before the short summer break. Victoria took a turn to visit Lewis in the Mercedes hospitality, and a few moments after, Milana spotted Lando sitting at a table on his own outside of his own team’s gorgeous facility. Milana walked up behind him, and after spotting how tensely he was sitting, she chuckled to herself - she was going to scare the shit out of him. Ensuring her footsteps were silent, she snuck up behind the driver and slid her hands over his shoulders and down to his chest, whispering a husky ‘boo’ into his ear as he leapt forward and squealed. Milana laughed loudly, the first time Lando had heard her laugh this hard, with no worries. She calmed down, a few giggles still escaping her maroon lips as she ushered him to sit back where he was.

“You’re mean.” Lando pouted, his voice sounding like a sulking child’s. Milana’s heart skipped a beat, admiring how adorable the boy seemed to be without even trying.

“I’m sorry, baby boy. I’ll make it up to you.” Milana apologised, beginning to rub his shoulders with her small hands. Lando’s shoulders immediately relaxed, his breath coming out in one long sigh as he forgot about the stress of the upcoming weekend, and simply focused on the euphoria this small, foreign woman was giving him.

“Fuck, you’re so good at that. Don’t stop.” Lando almost moaned. Milana felt her heart beat a little quicker, her stomach fluttering. She had never been affected by praise, as many of her previous bedfellows had attempted it, and it just never seemed to do anything for her. But from Lando, God it was so much better. Milana remained quiet, occasionally humming a song Victoria had played a few times over the few days they had been in Austria together. Her hands continued kneading into the tense muscles in Lando’s neck and shoulders.

“Thank you Mila. I didn’t know I needed that. Come sit down, I wanna get to know you more.” Lando stopped her after another few moments, rolling his neck around and sighing in relief. Milana smiled at the nickname, the only one she had ever been given from her name was Lana, so Lando having his own name for her released another round of butterflies into her stomach.

“There isn’t much to know, unfortunately. I’m pretty boring, baby boy.” Milana told him, taking a seat on the outdoor chair adjacent to his at the small square table.

“Why do you give everyone pet names? I don’t think I’ve heard you call anyone their names when you talk to them.” Lando’s head was tilted like a puppy, those light eyes of his filled with curiosity.

“It always made me feel special when I was younger when someone would call me pet names. I guess I just got so comfortable with them that I don’t really see the romanticism behind it anymore? But obviously, some I reserve for special people. Keep the integrity.” Milana spoke, looking off to the busy thoroughfare of the paddock.

“What are your special ones then?” Lando probed, his main purpose was to determine whether or not his name was sacred.

“Love, it’s one of my absolute favourites to be called, but not many people use it anymore. But other than that, it's just the baby’s. Obviously, Victoria is ‘baby girl’, and she calls me babe so it’s kind of our thing. And then, baby boy.” Milana’s face lit up as she imagined being called love by someone who truly meant it, but her voice got quieter as she continued. Lando heard everything though, and smirked when he saw just how shy Milana became when she revealed the significance of his pet name.

“Ok, enough with the pet names. I know literally zero about you, I should be able to ask questions too.” Milana pouted slightly, a very rare sight as she was usually smirking or biting her lip. Lando couldn’t resist her when she looked at him like that, her dark eyes staring up at him, bottom lip slightly pushed out, it made him weak at the knees. Lando nodded, so Milana began trying to think of a question to ask the man.

“Why do you race F1?” Milana asked after a few beats of silence. Lando’s eyebrows shot up, he wasn’t expecting a question like that, more along the lines of ‘what’s your favourite colour’ but he couldn’t complain, playing the standard 21 questions with girls got boring after ninth grade.

“The control. I am the only one that has the control to operate that car. It’s me. I thrive off the pressure, if I fuck up, it’s on me. But it's exhilarating, having all of the power, being the one in charge. It fuels me. There isn’t much else in the world I can control like I can an F1 car.” Lando’s fists were clenched tightly as he began talking about control, and Milana could see part of herself in that.

“You’re really cute when you talk about something you’re passionate about.” Milana stated, and Lando’s head snapped around to look at her, she looked completely comfortable with telling him he was cute, whereas Lando’s face was hot like fire, and he knew he probably looked ridiculous.

“Ok, so what do you do?” Lando moved on, his face was still hotter than hell, but he was determined to move on and try to come to terms with the fact that the most beautiful woman he had ever met thought he was cute.

“I work in an art gallery in Prague, and I’m studying anthropology.” Milana replied, unimpressed with her current occupations. She just wanted to be out in the anthropology field already, she loved everything she was learning and just wanted to put it into practice.

“How old are you? I just realised I have absolutely no idea.” Lando blurted, it was the first thing he thought of when Mila mentioned she was still at university.

“I’m 19.” She replied simply. Lando’s entire head moved forward, as if to say ‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you, can you please say whatever insane thing you just said again?’. Milana giggled at his perplexed expression. Lando for sure thought the Czech was at least a year older than him, but now he has to find out that she’s actually two years younger.

“You’re so much more mature than I was when I was 19. I was still struggling to cook food for myself without burning the entire house down.” Lando laughed, and Milana couldn’t help but laugh along with the sounds of joy that made her heart flutter. Lando truly could not believe that the woman who was laughing freely in front of him was the same woman he met three days ago who seemed to be the flirtier, female version of the Iceman, Kimi Raikkonen. He preferred this bright, cheery girl over the seductive woman he met, because this was Mila, not Milana.

Their laughter faded away, Milana looked back toward the flood of people still moving back and forth between the makeshift buildings, and Lando just looked at her.

“Would you like to go for dinner with me?” Lando’s mouth seemed to be quicker than his brain, because when Milana looked at him in shock, his words caught up to him. Milana saw how shocked he was in himself, and nodded, a bright smile curling her lips. Lando nodded back, a large smile and a nervous giggle urged him out of his chair, waving to Milana as he ran to the Williams garage to ask George what to do.