#the anxiety and fear of it all causes him so much stress he has to break it off but it doesn't explain himself well enough for his lover so

[dazais-guardian-angel]

went to my first con in 4 years on Friday to meet Kaiji Tang and got a Dazai autograph + video recording of him reading to me. He was the sweetest person (as I knew he would be) and interacting with him was lovely, but also at the same time oh boy it sure was an extremely stressful, ugly wake-up call of what it feels like to live in a world now where everyone around you has blissfully moved on from covid and can enjoy things normally and happily, while you'll forever be trapped in a hellscape of perpetual fear 🫠🫠🫠

[simmeons]

im normal about silly characters (lie)

[embers-of-the-league]

Tenko Shimura's ‘allergies’ and the implications thereof

I think most people always agreed that Tenko's allergies were - in some form or another - emotion-based.

Back in 235 we get the infamous "it only itches at home line" line.

It's also emphasized again later in the chapter when we see that the itching gets progressively worse after Kotaro yells at Tenko (meaning that it gets worse when Tenko is sad and/or in distress).

Back in the day, I saw a lot of people theorizing that the itch was a sign of Decay and that it was the early stages of the quirk manifesting within Tenko. But given what we know now, about AFO giving Tenko the quirk and especially when he gave Tenko the quirk, I don't think that this is the case.

We can pretty much pinpoint exactly when AFO gave Tenko the Decay quirk.

These two panels are from 235 and 419 - and I firmly believe that these panels take place only minutes apart from each other. This is also clearly the moment that AFO gave Decay over to Tenko, as shown by the small glow of his hand.

Before this point Tenko Shimura was quirkless.

Tenko got his original quirk stolen from him when he was just a baby - meaning that during the time between being an infant and being 5-years-old, Tenko was officially quirkless.

This makes a huge difference if we then look back at his allergies and why they appear.

This panel is from just before AFO takes Tenko's hand and gives him the Decay quirk. Look at his face. This boy already has irritated skin around his eyes (it looks like he's just been scratching at it too).

With the knowledge that Tenko at this point in time still is quirkless, I think it's fair to say that the allergies are not an early symptom of Decay.

It only itches at home.

Because the itching is purely psychosomatic. Because it's a stress-response/anxiety-response to the environment this young boy is forced to come home to every single day.

This boy is 5. He's 5. It's not normal for a 5-year-old to think thoughts anywhere near "does my father hate me?"

Kotaro has already put a fear in this little boy, which doesn't stop or go away as soon as his punishment does. The trauma in this boy is already so big that he thinks about these things in the moments when his dad isn't even actively scolding or punishing him.

It doesn't take a destructive quirk to cause a physical response like itching. All it takes is being constantly afraid of when you're going to be yelled at next, when you're going to be punished next, all by the hands of the parental figure you aren't sure even loves you at all.

It only itches at home.

Especially when the four walls of your house are a prison.

[bookshelf-dust]

kiss it better

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3,176

warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)

a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.

————

The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 

You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 

You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?”

Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.

“Steve?”

Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 

You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 

“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 

Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 

“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 

His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 

“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 

You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 

“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 

“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”

You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 

“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

————

Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 

Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 

He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 

And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 

He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 

Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 

He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 

Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 

When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 

“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 

He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 

“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 

You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 

You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 

Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 

He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.

You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 

Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 

You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 

“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 

You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 

One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 

“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 

He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”

You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 

“Hey. Look at me.”

He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 

You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.

Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 

Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 

“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 

You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 

“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”

He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 

By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 

You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 

He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”

You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”

His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 

“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”

He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.

When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 

You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”

“Steve?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”

His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 

“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 

You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”

————

When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 

But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 

“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”

He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 

“Hit me, I can take it.”

You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 

“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”

He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”

His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”

Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”

You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”

Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 

He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 

Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 

Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”

You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”

He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”

“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”

“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”

You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 

He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 

He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 

“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”

Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.

“What?”

“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”

“How come?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”

His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 

“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”

You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 

“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 

“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”

Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 

“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 

“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.

He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 

Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 

You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 

Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 

You have made him whole. 

He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 

“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”

You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 

Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 

When you pull away, he whines. 

“All better?”

Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 

“I’m healed.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[vbecker10]

Trust Me

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N) - established relationship

Summary: You and Loki have been dating for a year and a half and you moved into his apartment in the Tower last month when your apartment's lease was up. Since you've moved in, Loki has been coming home late more and more often. You fear he is cheating on you like your exes did, you finally break down and confront him. He admits has been keeping a secret from you but it's not what you expected.

Warning: Angst of course, being cheated on in previous relationships (briefly mentioned), fear of being cheated on again, lack of trust, arguing, negative thoughts, Loki being a little stupid

A/N: Ok... tiny spoiler but there is a super fluffy ending 💚 I know it's kinda long but I just didn't feel like making this a two-parter

You have just finished cooking dinner and begin to set the table when you catch a glimpse of the clock on the stove. You feel a growing sense of disappointment, Loki should be home already. Sitting alone at the table, you look at the food for a few minutes until your phone vibrates causing your heart to sink. Without even checking, you know what the text will say.

<Darling, I'm so sorry I need to finish something for Stark. I'll be home late, don't wait up.>

You frown and scroll back up to the previous messages in the chat. Loki had sent you similar texts twice and you've only lived with him for six days.

<Okay. I made you dinner, it'll be in the fridge. Love you>

He replies quickly.

<I love you too>

You instantly lose your appetite and decide to put all of the food away. It is hard not to feel as if Loki is avoiding you. In the year and a half you've been dating, he only worked late a handful of times and it was never several days in a row.

What are the odds that his work load has suddenly increased now that I am living with him? you think as you fill with anxiety. No, Loki loves me, you try to reassure yourself. He would never lie to me, if he says he is working, he is working.

You get another text from Loki as you close the fridge.

<I forgot to tell you, I picked up all of the very specific snacks you requested. I am looking forward to spending the weekend with my arms wrapped around you while we watch that absolutely absurd show you love so much>

You smile, your worries fading quickly as you text him back.

You change the channel again but you are barely watching the TV. You've had an unusually long and stressful day and you really need to cuddle with Loki but something tells you he is not coming home just yet. Almost as soon as you think it, your phone vibrates and you sigh.

<I'm sorry love, I'll be home late again. Don't wait up>

<K>

You text back the single letter, unsure if Loki can tell the subtle difference between 'okay' and 'k' but you just don't have the energy to fake being fine at the moment.

Two minutes later Loki responds.

<I love you>

You swipe the message away without replying, putting your phone in your pocket. You turn off the TV and decide you're done for the night, you can't bare the thought of eating alone for the third time this week. Without eating, you take a shower to try and wash off the day then crawl into the large, empty bed.

Once you are under the covers in the dark, your thoughts begin to race. Why does Loki never seem to want to come home to me? Does he really have that much work to do or is it an excuse? What if he is tired of being around me? We only just started living together but it feels like he is just trying to avoid spending time with me. What could he possibly be doing until midnight three or four nights a week?

No, not what... who is he doing, the little voice in the back of your mind pushes through. He's cheating on me, I've just been too blind to see it.

But Loki said he would never betray my trust like that, he promised, you counter but your negative thoughts quickly return. My previous boyfriends all seemed honest too, until they hurt me.

There are other signs I've been ignoring, you allow yourself to think. The calls, the texts, you wipe away your tears and cling to his pillow. You had gone into your bedroom two weeks ago and Loki was sitting on the bed, scrolling through your phone. He told you he was checking the weather app before you left for the park but the answer didn't feel right. You had nothing to hide and would often let him use your phone without question but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was looking for something. One thing you learned from your first boyfriend was that if someone started snooping around, it was because they were hiding something of their own.

Soon after that, Loki began getting texts that he didn't respond to or he would leave the room to answer a phone call. He always insisted it was Steve, Tony or Thor and that it had to do with work but you found it harder and harder to believe him.

He probably didn't even really want me to move in with him, your mind switches tracks suddenly. Sometimes I feel like the only reason he asked me to move in was because I had complained that my lease was running out and he was tired of hearing about it.

That's not true, you try to correct your thoughts. Of course Loki wants me here. You remember what he told you when he was helping you pack.

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

Your memory of Loki is quickly pushed aside by your memory of crappy ex number two. You had moved in with him just after college when you both realized you couldn't afford to live in NYC on your own. You had only been together a few months before you signed the lease on a one bedroom and it was just two weeks later when he began working later and later. It turns out, what he really wanted was a roommate with benefits and to still see other woman.

"That's everything," you said, looking around your empty bedroom. You had a gnawing feeling, even then, that Loki would grow tired of you and cheat. You wondered if you were setting yourself up for another heartbreak and Loki seemed to sense your anxiousness.

He took your hand in his and kissed it lightly, making you smile. Then he said, "Darling, I know the timing seems convenient but I have been wanting to ask you to live with me for some time. I know you prefer to take things slowly but I would have asked you to move in with me a year ago if I thought you would have agreed."

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

I can't keep denying this, you roll onto your back and look up at the ceiling, tears streaming down your cheeks. Loki is cheating on me. The only question is did this start after I moved in or has he been doing it the whole time?

A few hours later Loki walks into the apartment completely exhausted, all he can think about is crawling into bed with you. He hates how late his project is keeping him, he misses you tremendously and needs to feel you in his arms. Loki is overwhelmingly concerned by your response, or lack there of, to his texts tonight. You had never not told him you loved him and it made him nervous.

He pauses in the dark when he is just outside your bedroom and realized he can hear you crying. His heart aches at the sound and he turns on the light when he enters the room. You roll over away from him, clutching his pillow tightly.

"Y/N, are you okay?" he asks. You are silent, unable to answer his question. He crawls onto the bed next to you over the covers. You squeeze your eyes shut, hating how safe his actions make you feel, his chest flush to your back and his strong arms around you. "Darling, please tell me what's wrong," he urges gently.

"You're cheating on me," you state through your tears.

"No," he pulls back in surprise, "No, Y/N, you know I would never do that to you."

You shake your head, "You never come home."

"I'm sorry, I'm working on something-" he tries to explain but you cut him off.

"Who is she?" you ask sitting up. He moves to sit up and face you.

"Love please, I'm not-," he again tries to deny he is cheating but you don't let him speak.

"I know you aren't working this late, you never worked long hours before I moved in," you tell him as you wipe away your tears angrily. "Just tell me who she is unless... unless there's not just one other woman." Memories of your third ex-boyfriend flash through your mind, he had cheated on you with five women that you knew of but you were sure there had been others.

"There is no one else. I swear on everything in the nine realms I have been nothing but faithful to you," he promises quickly.

Your heart desperately wants to believe him. You love him so fiercely, more than you ever thought possible especially after you had been hurt so horribly in the past. Your mind, however, is convinced that you can't trust him and you shouldn't have let yourself fall for him. You know it will destroy you to leave him but you can't remain with him if the trust is gone.

"Look at me," he says, touching your cheek lightly. "I have never and would never cheat on you. I know you don't believe me right now and I understand you have been hurt in the past but I love you and I respect you too much to ever treat you the way those pathetic excuses for men ever did."

You sniffle and he says, "It's late, come with me tomorrow morning. I will show you what I have been working on. I will show you that you can trust me."

You nod in agreement although you are unsure how he can prove to you he has been faithful. He wipes your tears gently. "Don't," you whisper, pulling away from him when he moves to kiss your cheek.

"Would you prefer if I sleep in the living room tonight?" he asks. His chest hurts even as the words leave his mouth but he knows if he pushes too hard, you will retreat further away from him.

You nod again, unable to trust yourself to speak. You want to tell him to stay, to comfort you but how can he if he's the one who caused you this pain.

"Okay," he says quietly. He hates knowing he hurt through his actions. He tucks you back under the covers and runs his fingers through your hair slowly in the hopes that you will relax even the slightest bit.

"I'm so sorry I've made you feel this way, this was not what I wanted," he says softly. "I was planning something for you and I didn't have time to work on it during the day. I should have thought about how you would feel when I didn't come home but I need you to know that coming home to you has always been the best part of my day."

"I love you," he kisses the top of your head and you feel him get out of the bed. He turns off the light but waits a few seconds before leaving, hoping you will change your mind and allow him to stay with you. As soon as he closes the bedroom door you begin sobbing again.

Loki paces angrily back and forth in the living room. How could I have been so stupid, how could I have missed how upset you were? he thinks as he runs his fingers through his hair. He never intended to hurt you, he had become so distracted trying to make sure everything went perfectly to plan that he let the most important person in his life slip through his fingers. He sits heavily on the couch, wishing morning would come quickly.

He lays down after a few minutes, his hand over his eyes and remembers the day he first asked you on a date.

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

"No, Loki, I'm sorry," you told him while you were sitting together in the park. You slowly removed your hand from his and shifted away on the bench.

A few days later, the two of you were cooking dinner in his apartment and you asked him if you could explain why you had told him no.

Loki was almost too shocked and hurt by your rejection to respond. You had been doing date-like activities for almost a month and he had finally decided to ask you out officially. After a long moment he said, "I understand. I'm sorry, I must have misread things between us. I thought..." he shook his head, his words dying off. "Friends then," he looked up at you and smiled.

"Of course," he answered, a part of him hoping there was still a chance, however small, that you would change your mind.

You sat with him at the dining table and said, "There are two types of people when it comes to trust. You're the first type, you trust with your whole heart unconditionally. Once someone breaks your trust, however, it is gone forever."

He nodded in agreement knowing he had trusted his father without question but once he found out the truth, it was gone and could never be restored.

You continue, "I'm the second type, I don't trust anyone when I first meet them. I can't help but assume everyone is lying or unfaithful or willing to hurt me until they prove otherwise. I wasn't always like this but all three of my previous boyfriends cheated on me so now I almost feel like I've lost the ability to trust anyone. It was why I have so few friends."

After another hour of telling Loki what they had done, he promised to find your exes and make them suffer for how they treated you. You laughed in response, telling him that they weren't worth him getting in trouble but you secretly loved how protective he was of you.

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

You roll over again, unable to get comfortable without Loki next to you. You close your eyes tight and try to force yourself to sleep but it seems impossible. I don't understand why he would do this, you think. He had tried for so long to earn my trust and convince me to be with him. Why would he throw it all away?

Three months later you were sitting on Loki's couch together, the same one he is trying to sleep on now. His arm was around your shoulder and you were leaning comfortably against him. Your mind wandered since you had seen the movie before and after replaying the last few weeks in your mind you realized something.

From the day you told Loki no, he had been nothing but patient with you, being the friend you needed. You continued to go to museums, parks, movies, from the outside it appeared as if it were dating but Loki never pushed you. He would hold your hand as often as he could and you discovered he gave fantastic hugs but he never went in for a kiss or asked you out again although you could sometimes tell he wanted to.

"Loki, ask me again," you said out of seemingly nowhere.

"Ask you what darling?" he laughed as he paused the movie.

"Ask me on a date," you smiled nervously. "That is, if you still want to date me."

His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his lips. "Y/N, would you go on a date with me tomorrow?" he asked, holding your hand.

"Yes," you answered and he kissed your cheek causing you to blush. He promised you that he would never make you regret giving him this chance.

There is a light knock on the door and Loki opens it slowly. "Good morning darling," he forces a smile and you can tell by the redness in his eyes he slept probably as well as you did. "I know it is early, but I need you to come with me. I can't bear the thought of you thinking I've cheated on you for a moment longer."

He stops in front of the last door in the hall and he clears his throat. "It isn't finished yet," he says before he opens the door. "I was hoping to have it ready for your birthday next month."

You both get ready in silence and leave the apartment. He walks next to you and you can tell he wants to reach for your hand but you keep your arms crossed against your chest. You step into the elevator first and Loki pushes the button for one of the highest floors in the Tower. You have never been to that floor and are honestly not sure what is up there. When you arrive, he leads you down the empty hallway without a word.

"My birthday?" you ask confused.

He nods, "You were right, I have been lying to you and hiding something but I never meant to make you feel as if I was trying to hurt you. I was a fool for not realizing this was a horrible idea."

Loki opens the door and the lights turn on as you follow him inside. You freeze, your hand covering your mouth.

"It's almost an exact replica of the Great Hall in the palace," he says looking at the high ceiling. He looks back at you, "You told me you wanted to see Asgard and this is as close as I could get to making that happen for you."

"Loki-" you can barely speak as your eyes try to take in the room.

Your heart fills with love but also pain and guilt that you hadn't been able to trust Loki the way he deserved. You slowly move through the space and you are blown away by the tall marble columns, stained glass windows and gold accents all around you.

"The calls and texts were to your friends and family," he explains. "I needed to go through your phone for their numbers. When we were at Scott's party last year, you said you had never had a surprise party so..." he shrugs. "I tried."

"I'm so sorry," you tell him, putting your arms around him but he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, I thought you would like it," he says utterly defeated.

"I do," you tell him earnestly. "Loki this is amazing, you are amazing. I can't believe you did all of this for me. I don't deserve this."

"You deserve the world Y/N," he tells you, his fingers wiping away the tears you didn't realize had fallen.

"I gave you plenty of reasons," he corrects you gently. "I can see how... sketchy my behavior was. I just wish you told me your fears sooner, before they consumed you so completely. I would never be able to forgive myself if you left me because I did something stupid. "

You hug Loki tighter, resting your cheek on his chest while he runs his fingers through your hair. "No I don't," you tell him. "I didn't even try to believe you. I compared you to all of my exes and I assumed you were just like them even though you have never given me a reason to mistrust you."

"A lot of magic, that's why it is taking so long. It is draining to build the type of illusion that can withstand being touched and will remain even when I am not here," he explains.

"This isn't stupid, this really is amazing. I love it," you look up at the painted ceiling again. "I love you."

He smiles, "I love you too."

"How did you even do all of this?" you ask, looking around again in awe.

"It's why your always tired when you do finally come home?" you ask.

"Yes," he tilts your chin up. "But you are worth it." He leans down and kisses you.

The night of your 'surprise' party Loki walks into your bedroom with a beautiful deep emerald green dress. He smiles at your reaction and says, "This is my first gift of the night for my queen."

You finish getting ready and meet him in the living room. He stands from the couch, his eyes fixed on you. "You truly are a goddess," he says as he walks over to you. He puts his hands on your waist and you put your arms over his shoulders.

You blush at the compliment and joke, "You look half decent I guess." He laughs, both of you knowing full well how much you love when he wears a suit. Tonight he chose his black suit with a green dress shirt to match you and black tie. He leans down to kiss you and you find it impossible to let him go but he eventually breaks the kiss.

"Loki, you've done too much already," you can barely contain how happy and loved he makes you feel.

"You can only be so late to your own party," he smirks and you agree. Taking his hand, you walk towards the door but he stops you. "Wait, I think you are missing something," he says as he conjures a long, thin velvet box. "A second gift for my love."

"You deserve every bit of it," he says as he opens the box to reveal a gold necklace with a small resin pendant. You notice a tiny flower in the center when he places it around your neck from behind. "It's a freesia, the flower. They are often thought of as a symbol of trust and I want you to have this, to know you can trust me completely as I trust you."

He puts his arms around you and pulls you close. "You didn't ruin anything, please stop apologizing. And for the record, according to every single person on the team, I am the annoying one in this relationship, not you."

You fight to hold back tears and say, "I'm sorry I almost ruined everything. I can't imagine how annoying I must have been, constantly reminding you that I didn't trust you and comparing you to my exes."

You laugh and look up at him, "That's just cause they don't like you as much as they like me."

He smiles, "At least you like me."

You shake your head no and giggle. "I love you," you tell him then you reach up and kiss him.

He strokes your cheek softly, "That is all that matters to me."

Loki smiles at you before opening the door and the lights turn on. Everyone yells surprise as you step into the space and there is no need for you to fake being completely amazed. Loki has added so much detail work, flowers, candles and even some balloons since you had last seen the room. The Avengers, your friends, your family and some of your closest coworkers are here, ready to celebrate you. You turn to thank Loki and he lets go of your hand.

You look down in shock, covering your mouth with one hand as he reaches for your other hand. He kneels on one knee in front of you, a small ring box in his hand.

"Y/N," he starts but he is unable to get another word out

He smirks, "At least I was able to keep this a surprise."

"Loki..." you can barely believe what is happening.

"Yes," you answer quickly.

He laughs, "Darling, I didn't ask yet."

"I don't care, yes," you tell him and he stands up, putting the ring on your finger. You don't even look at it but you know it is perfect. You throw your arms around Loki and he picks you up, kissing you fiercely.

"I love you," you tell him over the sound of everyone clapping in the background.

"I love you too," he says before kissing you again.

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[sexilene]

can i please request reader going off to collage and not wanting to go and leave rafe, and then he convinces her that its okay not to go and stay with him? if it's a little confusion im sorry!

ive got ya!! xoxo!!! (sorry about any spelling mistakes, im like so beyond sleepy rn idk whyyy!!!!)

"hey baby? where are the suitcases, packed already?” your boyfriend shouts from the hall, wondering where all your stuff that was once out ready to get packed, is gone from where he last saw it.

“uh- almost,” you call back, watching him walk into your room carefully trying not to spill your sleepy time tea in his hand, staring down at the cup until he places it on your nightstand. "did you put em away?-" he begins, before you cut him off,

“ray?”

“yeah?”

“i need to talk to you about something…it’s nothing bad i promise…” your eyes wide and full of an emotion he can't quite place. he stares down at you sitting on the bed, crossing his arms waiting to hear what you've got to say. “okay, what’s up?”

“weeeell, i'm really proud of myself about getting in but i’m still a little nervous about going away…leaving you…” you ramble, avoiding eye contact with rafe. “got separation anxiety?” he laughs, bending down to be at eye level with you.

“don’t joke right now rafe, m’serious!” you whine, going to hide your face in your hands when rafe grabs your wrists ever so gently to direct your attention back on him. “sorry, sorry baby…continue." your boyfriend whispers, softly rubbing the skin on your wrist back and forth with his thumb.

you take a deep breath to keep the tears at bay “i’ve just been thinking about it a lot and i don’t wanna be half away across the country! and of course i know how important college is-”

rafe interrupts you by shrugging and muttering out an “eh,” as if to dismiss the importance of college,

“but…”

“but what, baby?” his eyes innocently looking up at you,

“what if i didn’t go? like i want to, but i don’t and it's all so stressful and i feel like i’m gonna disappoint everyone if i don’t go…” a tear then streaming down your face faster than you can wipe it away to keep him from seeing you cry over this.

your sweet boyfriend's heart twists with every tear that follows, he lets go of your wrists to hold your hands in his much bigger, warmer ones and shushes your fears, “hey- hey okay…just relax a minute kid, if you don’t want to you don’t have to. i say it all the time, can’t fucking wait to put a big ass diamond on this finger. and you won’t gotta worry about anything, cause i promise i’ll take care of you.” he tells you, a smirk on his face, trying his best to reassure you.

“i know but i don’t want to look stupid by being the girl who got into an amazing school but then chose to marry her first boyfriend and stay here!” you realize it's not the nicest thing to say out loud but it is- or would be the truth.

“what’s stupid bout being my little housewife?” rafe furrows his eyebrows, bringing his lips down to kiss every single one of your fingers. “aight listen, i’m so proud of you for getting in and doing the preparation for it but if you feel like your mind has changed that's not a bad thing. im fuckin’ relieved you wanna stay, and if you wanna still go to school there’s always UNC… you’d be closer.” your boyfriend was always very good at reasoning, especially with you. he could calm you in any situation with a couple of wise words and kisses.

“yeah…” you sigh, and wipe your nose with the back of your hand, letting go of his. and sure it's relieving to know that you could always choose to make that decision later, yet the thought in the back of your mind still present, telling you not to end up as another figure eight stepford wife.

and as quickly as the thought crept back into your mind, rafe was able to make it disappear “look, i love you babydoll and im gonna support you as you support me yeah? whatever you want, i'll get it for you you know that... you belong here, with me.” he stands back up again, hands reaching down to wipe the remaining tear droplets on your cheeks gently, to show you he cares ever so much about you and how much he wants to be soft with you- as if you could break like a china doll. “kay, so no tears. did your makeup so pretty today baby...”

your wet lashes sticking together, doe eyes staring up at him with love and admiration. “you’re my best friend ray. i love you, so much my heart hurts.”

“and you're mine, and i love you more than anything ever- and you can sleep on it you know? don't have to make up your mind right here." he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

ᥫ᭡.

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 8)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 8 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

exhausting is the word of the day. your fears are replaced by anxiety and there's only person in the world who can seem to make those feelings dissipate. lando had previously made it clear that he has no intentions to go anywhere, but does that statement still stand?

word count: 6.8k tags/warnings: some angst, poorly translated french and italian spotify playlist for this fic here

You swung open the door to Lando’s flat in the heart of London and disarmed the security system. He hadn’t been here for a few days and honestly, you didn’t intend on coming back here either. The plan was to go straight to Monaco from Silverstone tomorrow morning, that was why you brought everything with you to the hotel.

Now you had nothing except the clothes on your back, your phone and whatever managed to fit in your purse, which wasn’t much. 

You had left straight from the race, before the race even started, calling up the same driver that Lando had booked for you this weekend and you asked him to take you here, to Lando’s. 

Arthur had been texting you updates throughout the race, but you eventually turned your phone on do not disturb. You didn't care about the outcome, you didn’t care that Charles was let down yet again by Ferrari’s stupid pit stop strategy, you didn’t care about any of it.

And the drive from Silverstone to London was long. By the time you arrived at the flat, you knew the race had to be over, or at least close to it. 

But you didn’t turn on the tv to catch the end of it. Instead you headed straight to the ensuite and stripped yourself of the clothes that were still partly damp and you stepped into the shower. 

You stayed in there until your skin started to prune. When you reached for the soap you remembered that nothing in here belonged to you, everything of yours was packed away and you had no choice but to grab Lando’s. 

The scent of his body wash shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was, but at this point you had gotten so used to it, used to him.

When you stepped out of the shower you had very limited options. Either sit in the towel until your clothes had finished their run through the washer and dryer, or roam through Lando’s closet to find something to put on. 

It was a no brainer. 

The Quadrant jumper fell to your thighs, he always wore his sweaters a few sizes too big, he said he liked the baggy look. As for bottoms, he didn’t have a huge selection so you opted for a pair of basketball shorts and tied the strings up as tight as they would go to keep them from falling.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and knew that Lando would have a heart attack if he saw you. He always wanted you to wear his merch, and not for a promo shoot, not for an ad, but because that was how you showed your support. 

When you picked up your phone you saw you had a few missed calls, all from Arthur. You knew he was concerned, you didn’t tell him, or anyone, where you were going. You just sent him a text asking him to bring your suitcases with him back to Monaco tomorrow. 

And then you turned your phone off and curled up on the couch. You grabbed the blanket that had been draped over the back of it and pulled it on top of you. There was no reason for you to be as tired as you were, but it was the anxiety that was eating you alive.

You didn’t know what to say to Charles when you saw him next. 

You had no idea if Lando was even going to be coming back here now that the race was over. And if he did, would he give you the time of day or would he just ask you to leave?

You were terrified to look up the outcome of today’s race, terrified of the possibility of everything you said to Charles potentially backfiring. 

You ran through every possible scenario in your head until your brain went into shut-down mode and practically forced you asleep before you could cause a stress induced heart attack. 

There was a good chance you would have slept through the night had you not heard the chime of the alarm system going off, indicating that the front door to the flat had been opened. You stirred awake, rubbing your eyes as you sat up, glancing at the clock under the TV that read 23:18 in bright red numbers.

You didn’t let yourself think about how late it was though. In fact, you felt a jolt of energy rush through you when you turned your head and met the tired eyes of Lando. 

He didn’t look confused to see you. But he also didn’t look happy. He looked about as exhausted as you felt. You wondered how his race went, if you had somehow managed to get into his head too and ultimately fucked up his performance like you might have with your brothers.

Lando dropped his bag down on the floor next to his feet but he stayed standing by the door. You turned on the couch, sitting up on your knees to look at him. If seeing you in his Quadrant hoodie gave him any sense of comfort, he didn’t show it. 

He dragged his hand through his curls, an obvious sign of distress. He probably didn’t know how to feel seeing you. You could understand the conflicting emotions.

He finally decided on something to say, something that didn’t give you any sort of hint as to how the rest of the conversation would go.

“I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this, but you know you don’t live here, right?” 

“I know.”

“Okay,” Lando nodded, glancing around his flat.

 It was in nearly pristine condition, you made sure to clean before you left on Saturday. The only thing that stood out was the empty vase sitting on top of the dining room table. There were no longer any daisies in there, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put the vase away. 

He looked at you again, his jaw tense as he swallowed, “So why are you here?”

The answer was simple, “I didn’t want to go anywhere else.”

You stood up from the couch and Lando let his eyes rake over your body. If this were any other day, Lando would be making some sort of smart-ass comment about you wearing his merch. He’d probably roll his eyes and make a big deal about you using his products, anything to tease you, to get even a sliver of a smile out of you. 

But he stayed by the door. Was that for his own reassurance? Maybe he felt better knowing he could open it up if this got too difficult and slide out in the late London air. Wandering the streets of the city in the middle of the night might have seemed like a safer option than wherever this conversation was going to lead. 

Lando had said everything he needed to say. He had made it clear that he wanted you, that the ball was quite literally in your court now. Whatever you said, however you chose to act around him, would set up the precedent for your relationship moving forward. 

So when you reached for his hand, Lando felt a weight lift off his shoulders. 

“I didn’t want to go anywhere else,” you repeated, ensuring that he was really hearing you. You could have gone anywhere, Charles told you to take the plane but you were pulled back to Lando’s flat in London. 

That car ride gave you the chance to think about what happened. You could understand now why you froze in front of him in his driver's room, why you couldn’t tell him you made up your mind. 

It was such a rash decision, everything that happened, happened in such a short period of time. Finding out that Charles knew about Pierre and you, dropping bombshell after bombshell on your brother, deciding to put yourself first, something you never did. This series of events was fueled by adrenaline and you were hoping Lando would match your energy after running through the paddock to him, but instead he forced you to slow down. 

He could see your enthusiasm, why else would you have shown up at McLaren? But he didn’t want to be a spur of the moment choice. He wanted you to choose him because you meant it with every bone in your body. Not just today but tomorrow and the next day and every day after that. 

Running through the rain to confess your feelings was a beautiful gesture, but what good was a gesture if you couldn’t follow through with its intent? If there was a risk you would take it all back once the dust had settled? Lando couldn't take that risk.

But you being here now, in his home, waiting for him to show up without even knowing if he would…this wasn’t a gesture. There was a deeper purpose. You wanted to show Lando that you weren't going anywhere. 

Adrenaline aside, you were here. 

Lando crashed his lips to yours, his fingers holding your jaw to keep your face tilted upwards. Your hand trailed upwards to tangle your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as you kissed him back. 

It was like nothing else mattered, just you and him. You could feel his smile grow against your lips. There was less urgency as you kissed compared to past times, just the desire to be present in this moment. His mouth moved against yours and you just knew this was the right choice. This was where you were supposed to be. With him.

You were breathless as Lando pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours. He took hold of one of the strings of your hoodie, his hoodie, and twirled it around his finger before using to pull you closer once again, attaching his lips to yours for another kiss, and then another and then another until you had to pull away because your cheeks were hurting so much from trying to contain your smile.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner,” you told him. As much as you wanted to escape from reality and be happy in this bubble you created, there were still a few things you needed to get off your chest. 

“I don’t even care,” Lando shook his head. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

“No Lando, I really am sorry,” your expression fell as your eyes found his. “You’ve made your intentions clear this whole time and I just led you on like it was some stupid game and I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Well to be fair, it was a game at first,” Lando chuckled. “And I’m still determined to move up your driver ranking, I reckon it’ll be a bit easier now.”

Carlos’ face flashed through your mind and Lando must have noticed the way you momentarily tensed. Standing right in front of you, it was almost impossible for him to miss the way your eyes glossed over. 

“What?” He asked, trying to make a joke of it. “You don’t think you’ll ever like me more than Carlos?”

“No that’s not-” this was not something you thought through. “I need to talk to you about Carlos.”

Now Lando was nervous. You had never expressed any interest in chatting about Carlos before, in fact you shut down the topic of the Ferrari driver a number of times. 

“What about him?”

“Um…” a sharp inhale passed through your lips. “I just- well it’s just that-” this was like ripping off a bandage, you just had to say it and be done. “Okay I kind of maybe sort of might have-” oh you were stalling. You took a breath and forced yourself to finish. “...kissed…Carlos…”

This was certainly not what Lando was expecting to hear.

“You kind of-maybe-sort of-might have kissed Carlos?” Lando repeated you word for word. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I definitely kissed Carlos,” you clarified. 

Lando rolled his eyes and he started to turn around but you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back. You weren’t going to let this turn into a fight, not when things just started to get good.

“It was to prove a point!” You explained.

“To prove a point?” Lando raised his voice slightly, not enough to alarm you but enough for you to know that you really had to be careful with your words. “What point, exactly? That half the drivers on the grid are in love with you? This is common knowledge, Y/N you didn’t need to kiss Carlos!”

You were physically taken aback by that statement, “Wait, what?” 

Lando paused, eyebrows pinched together, “That’s not- that’s not why you kissed him?”

“No but we’re going to circle back to that,” you told him, pushing his words to the back of your mind for now. “I needed to prove a point to Charles. He needed to understand that what I do, who I interact with, shouldn’t matter. He should be able to race without worrying about me or what I’m doing.”

“Or who you’re doing,” Lando muttered and because you stood only inches apart, your best move was to hit the side of his arm to get the message across. 

“I didn’t sleep with Carlos,” your tone demanded his attention and Lando’s eyes widened as he immediately regretted letting those words slip out. “But I told Charles I slept with Pierre. I told him I liked you and then I kissed Carlos as well because he needed to get it through his head that my life is my life and he shouldn’t have control over it just because he races with you guys.”

That was the short version of it all. You knew eventually you’d have to explain word for word what Charles said but you were hoping right now Lando would understand enough so you could move past it.

Lando needed a second to process everything. The silence between you wasn’t deafening but it wasn’t reassuring either. 

“You did and said all of that today?” He asked.

“Yeah, before I ran through the rain to talk to you.”

“Oh,” Lando nodded slowly. “Oh, so right before the race start announcement?”

“I mean, I guess so.”

Lando knew something you didn’t. That was the only reason he was asking these clarifying questions, trying to piece the timeline together.

“You didn’t watch the race, did you?” Lando then asked, but he already knew the answer. 

“No, why?”

“You didn’t see where Charles ended up?”

“No, why?” You repeated, louder this time. All you knew was he was given a poor strategy that didn’t work out in his favour. “What happened to him?”

“He-” Lando looked guilty, like he didn’t want to be the one to break the bad news to you, even if what happened had nothing to do with him. “He DNF’d, Y/N. On lap like 46 I think, pretty close to the end.”

Your heart sank in your chest. Of course part of you felt responsible without even knowing what the cause was. Even if it was a hydraulics issue, even if it was the furthest thing from driver error, part of you felt at fault for his retirement. 

What if everything you said and did really did get into Charles’ head? What if it messed him up for the race? Threw him off his game even the slightest bit?

“You’re spiralling.”

You didn’t even have to say anything for Lando to recognise what was currently going through your head. He grabbed your shoulders and dipped his head a few inches to be at your level. 

“He’s fine,” Lando said, rushing to get that out. “He’s not injured, nothing bad happened. It was a mix between poor strategy and driver error but it wasn’t your fault.”

“This is exactly what he warned me about. I got in his head, Lando.” You tensed, wanting Lando to drop his hands from you. Physical touch wasn’t something that helped you in times of distress. “Charles is going to blame me, he’s just going to use this against me- why the fuck did I say all of that to him right before a race?”

“Because it needed to be said,” Lando scoffed, finding the reasoning that you were unable to. “Granted, kissing Carlos maybe wasn’t-” you shot him an icy look and he instantly shut up. Lando changed the direction of the conversation. "Just sit down, okay? There's no sense in worrying about it tonight. The race is over and you're not even in the same city as him."

Lando nudged you towards the couch and he was smart to grab your phone from the coffee table before you could do anything rash like call Charles and apologise. Did you owe him an apology? 

It would be so easy for him to blame you. 

And part you felt like you needed to take that blame. 

Lando sat down next to you in the corner of the couch, pulling you into his side. His hand ran up and down along your arm as your head rested against his chest. It was comforting, feeling each breath he took beneath your cheek, hearing his steady heartbeat in comparison to yours nearly beating out of your own chest.

“Do you think I’m a bad sister?” You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“God no,” Lando’s lack of hesitation should have helped put you at ease, but it didn’t. “If Charles blames you for what happened, he’s the shitty sibling.”

You weren’t even sure if he had tried to get ahold of you at all. After the few texts you exchanged with Arthur, you stopped looking at your phone. And now Lando had it and he probably had no intentions of giving it back before the night was over. 

He knew you would want to call Charles. He knew Charles would inevitably guilt you into taking responsibility for what happened. He knew a face to face conversation would be smarter than trying to work out your problems over a phone call.

So Lando hatched up a plan to bring you back to Monaco. Neither of you could stay in his flat in London forever and with two weeks until the next race, the smartest thing to do was return to Monte Carlo. There, you could talk to Charles. You both could. Lando could explain that he had nothing but good intentions with his sister and you could draw the line with Charles so that the conversations you had over the last few days wouldn’t have to happen again.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep curled up next to Lando. With his fingers tracing shapes aimlessly over the sleeve of the jumper and with how exhausting the last 24 hours have been, you finally felt a sense of security with him, one you hadn’t felt before. 

Lando waited until he knew you were fast asleep, getting flashbacks to that night he picked you up from the wedding, before he reached for his phone that was tucked away in his pocket. He was so careful not to disturb you, even typing with just his left thumb to keep his right arm tightly bwrapped around you. 

He sent a quick message to his assistant, asking him to book a flight for the two of you for tomorrow. When he got the confirmation that everything would be taken care of, Lando dropped his phone onto the side table and carefully stood up from the couch, using his other arm to scoop you up and carry you to the bedroom down the hall. 

You stirred in his arms, having woken up slightly but you kept your eyes closed until you felt yourself being placed on the mattress. Your head hit the pillow and Lando carefully brushed a few strands of hair out of your face. 

Now it was your turn to be brought back to that first night.

“Can you stay?”

You were sober this time, but Lando still had to take a second to process whether or not he heard you correctly as he stood next to the bed. When your eyes fluttered open to look up at his looming figure, you lazily reached for his hand.

And Lando couldn’t think of a good enough reason to say no. 

Why would he spend the night on the couch again? There was no requirement anymore. There wasn’t that prominent need to be careful around you anymore, not when you both made your feelings perfectly clear. 

So he nodded. A tired smile curled up on your lips before Lando gave your hand an affirming squeeze. He excused himself to get ready for bed but when he walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, you were thankful that sleep hadn’t completely taken over you again.

You were awake enough to watch as he pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it in the corner of the room. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and the second he crawled into bed next to you, you turned on your side to face him. 

The lights may have been off but you could see everything you needed to. And even if you couldn’t, you could feel. You placed the palm of your hand against his hard chest before sliding it up to rest around his shoulder. Lando gripped the underside of your thigh and pulled it on top of his legs. Both of you were already well aware of how perfectly your bodies moulded together.

“What if I get used to sleeping like this?” Your quiet voice filled the bedroom. The question held as much fear as it did hope. Lando knew you had never been in a relationship before, he knew that something as simple as sharing a bed was unchartered waters.

His fingers spread out over your leg and his deep chuckle sent a shiver down your back. He turned his head on the pillow to look at you.

“Then it’s a good thing we both live in Monaco.”

He had a point. It would be easy enough to see each other between races if you were both back home. It was annoying, really, that you were already thinking about that. Thinking about how long it would take to make yourself at home at his place and vice versa. About whose flat you would spend more time at, probably his. All of these different scenarios filled your head.

You recognized the way the corner of his lips curled upwards and you didn’t need to be a mind reader to know he was thinking of the exact same things. And maybe you were both getting ahead of yourselves, this was still so new, but you were ready to dive in head first. You didn’t want to let your fears stop you from being happy.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. He kissed you back but there was some hesitancy on his part and you noticed it.

“What?” You asked, propping yourself up a bit. 

Lando opened his mouth, only to promptly close it. And you weren’t someone who let things go easily so you nudged his shoulder and repeated yourself.

“What, Lando?”

Whatever he wanted to say, seemed to cause him physical discomfort but he tried to play it off like it didn’t.

“It’s nothing, really,” Lando told you. You counted in your head, waiting to see how long it would take until he followed that sentence with a ‘but’.

Three. Three seconds.

“But I just-” Lando sucked in a quick breath. “If I’m being honest, I don’t like that you kissed Carlos.”

If there was any doubt before, you were certainly awake now.

“That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“Well you can’t blame me for thinking about it!” He exclaimed with a chuckle. It was clear he wasn’t angry about it, but it was something that wasn’t sitting right with him. “He’s one of my best mates and you always said there was nothing going on between you two.”

“There isn’t,” you rolled your eyes. “There never has been.”

“But you kissed him.”

“To prove a point to Charles,” that ultimately backfired, but still. “Carlos just so happened to be there, if it was any other driver I would have done the exact same thing.”

“I don’t think that makes me feel any better.”

“Well what do you want me to say, Lando?” You asked, trying your hardest to not sound annoyed at this topic. You genuinely didn’t want this to turn into an argument, but you could understand where he was coming from. You just weren’t sure if he understood where you were coming from.

And then a cocky little smirk appeared on his face, “Well, you could say I’m above him on your driver ranking.”

That’s what he was waiting for. An opportunity to slide that in.

He wasn’t actually concerned like he led you to believe. You pushed on his chest and laid back down as he laughed. Lando tried to hold you against him but you turned on your other side, facing away from him.

“You’re so fucking annoying.”

“I know,” he continued to laugh, still wrapping his arms around you and shuffling closer so your back was pressed against his chest. You purposely tensed in his arms, wanting him to know you were unimpressed with him.

But then Lando kissed the side of your neck softly and it was almost embarrassing how you instantly found yourself relaxing, and leaning into his touch. 

You didn’t realise until right now, though, how thankful you were that Lando’s playful interactions weren’t going anywhere. Your entire friendship was built on a foundation of jokes and eye rolls and purposely trying to get on each other's nerves, in the most respectful way possible. 

And that wasn’t going to change. You might respond to each other’s teases a little differently now, but ultimately, the thing that brought you two together seemed to be the glue that was going to keep you together. 

“You still need to work for it, Norris,” you told him, referring to moving up in the placement of favourite drivers. If you were being honest with yourself, he probably didn’t have to work that hard, but now that the dynamic between you two had shifted, you were dying to know what he would come up with this time.

——————

Lando sprung the flight on you as soon as you woke up and it seemed to be not up for discussion. You couldn’t hide away in his London flat forever. Plus, all of your belongings were with Arthur, so you had no choice but to go home.

Lando and you agreed to keep some distance at the airport. He was easily recognizable, especially in London, but you weren’t and you wanted it to stay that way for at least a little while. The last thing you needed were photos of the two of you to surface before you had a chance to talk to your brother.

Really you just had to keep your hands to yourself until you were comfortably seated on the private plane his assistant had booked for today. It blew your mind how easy it was for him to request and receive a jet and a pilot, but you weren’t about to complain. Not having to worry about prying eyes or cell phones throughout the duration of the fight was like a breath of fresh air. 

Once the plane had taken off, he asked if you wanted to join the mile high club. Granted, he wasn’t being serious but you promptly switched seats to sit across the aisle from him instead and put your airpods in.

“Is that a no?” Lando asked before you could turn your music on.

“It’s a no right now,” you answered. His cheeks turned a bright shade of red and you rolled your eyes at his immature tendencies. 

You kept your head down and started to read on your phone, but out of the corner of your eye you could see him shifting uncomfortably in his seat. When you did finally lift your head, you watched as Lando peeled off his jumper and placed it in his lap. Automatically your eyes dropped and your eyebrows raised when you realised what he was trying to hide.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, stifling your laughter. “You’re hard?”

“I’m only human,” Lando shrugged innocently. 

With your elbow on the armrest, you dropped your chin to your hand and sighed, “Lando, I’m not having sex with you for the first time on a plane.”

“But the way you say that makes it seem like it could happen,” he pointed out, clearly playing this up even though it was only making his situation worse. 

“You have the mind of an eighteen year-old frat boy, do you realise that?”

“Or maybe you’re just really hot and also, I’m really into you.”

You glanced down at your apparel. You were still choosing to wear Lando’s clothes because it was a lot easier to throw that on this morning than have to wait for a load of laundry to finish so you could wear the clothes you wore yesterday. Lando didn’t seem to mind either. You walked out of his closet wearing one of his shirts and he responded by kissing you, muttering something about he much preferred this than a DR3 item.

But you didn’t feel hot. His clothes were baggy on you, you hadn’t showered yet today and any makeup that you had on was the result of not washing your face properly before you passed out, which you’d probably be paying the price for tomorrow. 

Lando didn’t see what you saw though. He looked at you from across the aisle and thought, no, knew, you were the most beautiful girl he would ever lay eyes on. To him, he didn’t care what you were wearing.

And if anything, you wearing his clothes made you ten times hotter.

However you didn’t want to feed into his thoughts. You had enough will power for the two of you.

“Keep it in your pants, Norris.”

He muttered something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch but you could assume it was another comment about joining the mile high club. 

He got up after a while to use the bathroom, or at least that’s what you thought when out of the corner of your eye you saw him toss his hoodie aside and stand up from the chair. 

You didn’t expect him to walk directly to where you sat and take your face in his hands before leaning down and kissing you. You sat up straighter, completely abandoning your phone as you craned your neck upwards, wanting to kiss him back with as much passion as he was giving you.  

Lando’s hand trailed down the slightest bit, grabbing hold of your jaw before he pulled away.

“What was that for?” You asked, unable to stop yourself from smiling. You could get used to this, Lando kissing you whenever he felt like it. 

“No reason,” he shrugged, which was probably the best reason. 

Your smile only grew as he kissed the top of your head, letting his hand run down your arm as he walked off, making sure to give your fingers a squeeze before he made his way towards the back of the airplane.

It was safe to say you were smitten, and horribly so.

When Lando returned from the bathroom he sat down next to you, and you were fine with that on the condition he stop it with the mile high club jokes. Not because they were annoying, but because if he didn’t stop giving you that devious look and charming grin, you could be coerced into meeting him in the bathroom.

And you really didn’t want that. 

Well, you did. But not for your first time. And Lando knew this. 

He could wait, you both could. In the meantime, though, Lando let his hands wander when you draped your legs over his lap. What started as a very innocent hand placement on your thigh slowly turned into his fingers creeping upwards, tickling your bare skin and causing very visible goosebumps.

His thumb dipped below the very loose material of the shorts you wore and your eyes shot up, warning him with a glare. The last thing you needed was for him to tease you while you were 35,000 feet up in the air.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His smirk said otherwise.

He kept his hand on you for the duration of the flight. You held your breath any time his fingers trailed up your leg. Lando’s touch was soft and you just knew it was a major contrast to what he wished he could have been doing. You saw the veins along the back of his hand, you knew just how much strength he had in his wrists alone. 

But he respected what you asked. He didn’t cross any sort of line, even if he was dying to.

So you just suffered, basically, for the entire flight. Because Lando wasn’t going to take his hands off of you but he also wasn’t going to do anything that would ease your suffering. 

It wasn’t until the plane landed in Nice did he lift his arms up to stretch, an all too innocent smile perched upon his face. You rolled your eyes but before you could get up, Lando pulled your face to his to kiss you once more in the privacy of the jet. 

There was intent behind it. His lips moved against yours in a way that told you these last few hours of subtly teasing you on the plane wasn’t for nothing. 

You were still smitten, but now you knew he was most certainly going to be the death of you.

He had the decency to tone it down once you both stepped off the plane and headed towards the car that was waiting on the tarmac. Lando gave the driver your address, and you raised your eyebrows at him.

“You have it memorised?”

He chuckled, “Is that- is that a bad thing?”

“You’ve been to my place once.”

Lando simply shrugged his shoulders and opened the door for you. He waited until you had your seatbelt on to shut it and climb in through the other side. 

“You happy to be home?” He asked you quietly, trying to gauge how you would answer. You had been in the UK for weeks now that it was genuinely starting to feel like home. 

“I’m happy that we’re both here,” you answered because it was as honest as you could be. Was Monaco really where you wanted to be right now? No. Ideally you would still be in London with Lando. But you couldn’t run from Charles forever. You had to talk to him eventually.

Lando placed his hand on your leg when you saw you pulling out your phone to call Charles after putting it off for what seemed like forever when in reality it had been less than 24 hours since you last spoke. 

The dial tone seemed to go on for an eternity. And just when you thought he was going to pick up, you reached his voicemail instead. You looked at Lando, who calmly reminded you that he might be busy and that you have another brother who was also still in Silverstone. 

Arthur picked up instantly. 

“Have you heard from Charles?” You asked, not even bothering with a ‘hey, how’s it going’. You wanted to get right to the point.

“Uh, yeah I think he’s on a plane to Italy. Pretty sure he’s spending a few days in Maranello.” Arthur recalled. “He didn’t tell you?”

You dropped your forehead to your hand and sighed, “No, obviously not or I wouldn’t be calling you. When will he be home?”

“I think Saturday?” Arthur genuinely had no idea and as frustrated as you were that you couldn’t talk to Charles face to face, you couldn’t take it out on Arthur. “Are you in monaco?”

“Sto tornando a casa,” I’m on my way home. You glanced at Lando who now had his eyebrows pinched together as you switched from English to Italian. You put your hand on top of his and gave it a squeeze, an assurance that you were not talking about him in a different language. 

Arthur and you chatted for a bit more, he told you he’d be home by tomorrow night and that he’d bring your luggage with him. He then mentioned something about getting together with your mother Saturday evening, something that you really couldn’t say no to. It was rare that all four of her kids were all in Monaco at the same time, so when you were, you had to take advantage of it.

“Je serai là pour le dîner,” I’ll be there for dinner. You looked at Lando again, who had stayed quiet for the entirety of your conversation with Arthur. He couldn’t keep up with you switching from English to Italian to French anyway.

He wasn’t looking at you, though. With his free hand, he was scrolling through some pictures on his phone. More specifically, the ones from the Quadrant shoot last week. He kept swiping back and forth between two of them. 

One, where he was so obviously looking at you instead of the camera as you stood in front of the car, you were turned away from the camera to showcase the design on the back of the shirt. He was supposed to be looking at the camera, but he wasn’t. You remembered telling him to stop looking at you because the longer he looked at you the more your cheeks hurt from trying to contain your smile.

And then the other photo was one you weren’t even aware had been taken, you hadn’t seen it yet. Lando was facing the camera and you were slightly behind him, watching as he did his best model impersonation. 

But you were really looking at him. In a way where you would have been embarrassed if he had caught you staring for too long. If he had turned around and noticed you, you would have averted your gaze immediately, but you couldn’t help it. You were enamoured with him. You didn’t want to pull your eyes off of him. Even if you didn’t want to admit it then, you knew now that you were really starting to fall for him. 

Who plans a surprise photoshoot for you to model his own brand? 

Lando does, apparently. 

He was the same guy who made sure there were fresh daisies in a vase when you walked into his flat. The same guy who picked you up without question when you were too intoxicated to even stand up straight. The same guy who had been looking at you the way you looked at him this whole time and you had no idea. 

Lando opened up the Instagram app on his phone right as Arthur repeated your name a few times, wondering if he had lost you in the last few seconds. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you said. 

He started talking about dinner again, and you cut him off before you could change your mind. 

“Puis-je apporter un invité?” Can I bring a guest?

Arthur paused, “You mean Lando?”

He took your silence as a yes.

“Do you really think that’s smart?” Arthur asked. “Don’t you want to talk to Charles first before bringing Lando to dinner? Are you two even dating? What if-”

“You’re asking too many questions,” you interjected. Beside you, Lando chuckled. He turned his hand over to interlock your fingers together. He had no idea what Arthur was saying, but it didn’t matter, Lando would always be on your side.

“If you want to bring him, don’t give Charles a heads up. Otherwise he might not show.”

You snickered, “You think I should blindside him?”

“I didn’t use that word.”

“You basically did.”

Arthur sighed into the receiver, not wanting to be more involved in whatever decision you were going to make, “I’ll let you know when I’m home. Talk to you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, have a safe flight,” you said and then hung up. As soon as you did, you rested your head on Lando’s shoulder. Without skipping a beat, he turned and kissed the top of your head. 

You looked at your hands, still connected on your lap. 

Your stomach twisted just thinking about what might happen if you really did invite Lando to the dinner. You never came out and explicitly said you would, hence why you asked Arthur in French as opposed to a language Lando would understand. 

That way you could still change your mind. 

Not because you didn’t want to bring Lando around your family, your family already knew who he was, but because you needed to really think about if his presence would be helpful or if it would cause a deeper divide between you and Charles. 

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, team_quadrant and 314,987 others

tagged: team_quadrant, ynleclerc

landonorris part time gamer part time model

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ynleclerc don't you also drive fast cars?

landonorris only sometimes, not enough to put it on the resume

team_quadrant our favorite merch drop

daniel_ricciardo ric3.com

yn_daily rip to the people who wanted her and carlos to get together

siinz55 still waiting to hear what charles thinks about this

part 9 here | masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader @f1mockingjay @topguncultleader @lclrnelliluvs @moonxblossom @dr3lover @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @noescapricho-essentimiento if i missed someone im so sorry

[animeyanderelover]

Hello again! Could I get a scenario where the darling is super emotional and cries all the time. She's not particularly scared or trying to be manipulative, just cries really easily. I thought it'd be interesting to have Ash from black Butler, Kanike from Tokyo ghoul, Shiapouf from hunter x hunter, and any other emotional yandere who you think fits. Crybaby vs crybaby. Thanks!

I’m currently on a vacation so I had to keep this limited to only a few characters.

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz @jamayah @cynniical @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59 @flaming-vulpix

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, isolation, manipulation, abduction

Crybaby vs. Crybaby

Ash Landers

▫️Tears are droplets of innocence, at least the tears that you spill are. It is a sight that he would even consider beautiful if it wouldn’t be for the grief that is piercing the essence of his soul when he sees you spilling tears of purity. Initially Ash mistakes your tears as a sign of fear, a thought that tightens his heart with anxiety and self-hatred but he doesn’t wish to bother you with his problems and keeps the stress and anxiety to himself, leading to emotional meltdowns when he’s all by himself. He’s convinced he’s doing something wrong every time you start crying and that behavior is hard to shake off even when he eventually figures out that you are just a very sensitive person. The sensitivity of yours is only more of what makes you so pure and perfect in his eyes. It is your tendency to cry so easily though that leads Ash to cuddle you even more all to not overwhelm your fragile feelings and to keep all anxiety and stress away from you. He will worship tears of happiness and joy but he will damn everyone, including himself, if your tears are ever caused by sorrow.

Shaiapouf

🎻His demeanor really depends on what stage of his obsession he is in already. If he’s still in his earlier stages where he overloads you with tons of expectations to be perfect Shaiapouf is going to be the main culprit for your tears. He may pretend to be nice but the disappointment due to your lack of self-control is written all over his face. He’s strict and his words are harsh, belittling you and even using his abilities on you to calm you and your tears down. If we’re talking about Shaiapouf after he has properly embraced his obsession things look quite a bit different. He’s using your sensitivity to manipulate you further into his arms, actively encouraging the overwhelmed meltdowns so that he can be the one to smother you and help you to calm down. He was born a servant, he needs to be needed by you and it just so happens that you need him too. That is at least what he tries to indoctrinate into your mind with attentive touches and sweet lies. What used to be a burden in his eyes has now turned into something precious and sweet which only gives him more reasons to isolate and protect you. After all the world outside would only overwhelm you.

Kaneki Ken

🔲Kaneki is already very fidgety and nervous, frightened that his darling is simply going to despise him and view him as the monster he thinks he is deep down as well. So the first few weeks after the abduction aren’t pretty. He knows that you tend to cry easily, his heart always tightened and hurt when he stalked you but it is still so much worse when he is the cause of your tears, especially knowing that those aren’t happy tears. You may as well have poured acid over his skin and it would have hurt him less than watching you spilling tears because you are frightened of him. His stomach is churning and worms are feasting through his pained heart, his own vision blurry as he stutters out apologies, longing to reach out for you yet terrified that you would only flinch away from him and only break his bleeding heart more. It is this initial trauma that has him trembling whenever you cry long after you’ve gotten through the worst parts and your tears are no longer his fault. His presence is hovering over you as soon as Kaneki senses that you’re crying, terrified that something or someone upset you.

Fudo Akira

👿Even after Akira’s transformation he has remained the crybaby boy he has been since his childhood. He’s highly sensitive and it is very likely that he may even start crying together with you when you start spilling tears first. At first he is a tad bit ashamed of it. In this new body of his he was hoping to be able to toughen up and to be your pillar of comfort yet his own tears get stained in his own tears the moment he sees you as he is just weeping with you, no matter whether you’re sad or very happy about something. Akira starts getting more comfortable the moment he realises that you actually seem to take comfort in the fact that even someone as intimidating and tough-looking as him has a very sensitive soul. So he just starts crying with you to comfort you and help you to regulate your emotions. If there is a negative reason behind your tears and it happens to be a person as well Akira may just pay them a visit later for some civilised talking but he prioritises you always first by comforting you before he weaponises his new strength and appearance. He hates it when your tears are those of grief and fear after all.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

It's a complicated topic but... how would LJ, Sully and Jason (separately) react if they had a dream (although it would seem more like a nightmare) where Y/N tricked them?

The three of them like never dream in my opinion so it's definitely angst time but I tried to go more bittersweet. I hope you enjoy

LJ:

Jack almost never dreams, mostly because he almost never sleeps, as it's not necessary for him to function, but most nights it's still just usually quiet in his mind. Tonight, however, was very much not quiet. He'd been feeling quite stressed lately, especially because the two of you hadn't been able to have as much time together, and it seemed his anxieties had manifested as nightmares to haunt him that evening. The words you'd yelled at him, as you'd turned and left him, told him to never speak to you again, it had hurt him more than he thought possible. He wakes, scared and upset, before you even notice the state he's in, chest heaving and tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He shivers as he looks at you, happily curled into his chest and sleeping peacefully, and does his best to calm his racing heart. He pulls you on top of him as he shifts onto his back, staring up at his ceiling and trying to relax.

The shifting causes you to wake, and you tiredly ask him what's wrong, giving him a tired look of concern that has him chuckling and pressing kisses to your cheeks. He tells you he just wanted to cuddle you a bit more, and of course, you're never one to refuse his cuddles, so you curl up onto his chest, snuggling your head into his neck and soon drifting back to sleep. The warmth of your body is enough to comfort Jack, after all; it's proof you're here. You're here, and you're real, and you're not going anywhere, it was just a bad dream. Although he chooses not to go back to sleep, he enjoys spending his time waiting for the morning listening to your calming breathing, and enjoying the weight of your body on top of him. He'll tell you what happened when you awake, the horrible dream he had, and he knows you'll refute the dream, swearing your love for him as you always do, and the thought makes his heart flutter as he hugs you tighter against him, looking forward to those familiar words.

Sully:

Sully doesn't often have dreams, although when he does he tends to be frequented by nightmares, however, they're usually never about you. About his shared trauma with Liu, about his fears and anxieties in general, but when they do happen to be about you, it's usually about him failing to keep you safe in a nightmare, not you being the source of the nightmare. The words you tell him cut deep, and feel so real and painful, but he doesn't want to believe them. You've never looked at him with such hatred, and you'd never say such needlessly cruel things to him, you'd never run away from him, abandoning him in his misery. As he becomes aware of his dream, he fights against it, he knows you could never do this, but he can't pull himself out. It's not until you wake him up yourself that he's able to escape, his teary eyes opening to see you looking at him in deep care and concern.

He doesn't have the words to tell you what's wrong, only being able to mumble that it was a bad dream, and the knowing, loving smile you give him has his heart racing in his chest for another reason. You shift in bed, pulling him into your chest and pressing kisses to his forehead, rubbing his back in the way he's always preferred, and he feels himself calming down. He nuzzles into your neck, quietly crying out that you'd left him, that you'd said he wasn't good enough, and while he knows you'd never say that it still hurts. You hug him tighter, reinforcing that you would never, ever say that, that he's more than enough for you and you'll never leave him like that. His brain is still anxious, but his body can't help but relax into your familiarity, and soon he's drifting off to more peaceful dreams, still clinging to your body for warmth and comfort. When he awakes the following morning, well rested and greeted by your happily smiling face, he knows for certain that everything will be alright. You're not going anywhere, and he'll be able to protect you forever, just as he always does. That thought brings him more joy than he feels he deserves, so he cherishes you and your love more than anything.

Jason:

Jason, as I've said before, also doesn't need to sleep. As my Jason is robotic, he simply enters a powered-down state when he lies beside you at night, and it's rare for his mind to wander and present him with dreams, but the occasional bad dream does sometimes torment him. While normally a still sleeper, as I've previously said, he tosses and turns on nights when he's having bad dreams, and tonight was no different for him. And, as usual, he's awoken by you powering him on and calling for him, holding him close, and asking him what's wrong. All he can do at first is look up at you in confusion and pain, tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyebrows twitching as he tries to process what's happening before his lips tremble and he clings to you as though his life depends on it.

He cries out, saying he had a horrible dream, one where you left him, where you told him he'd never be good enough for you, that he didn't deserve someone like you, that you'd left him all alone so maliciously, and he was so scared because he loves you so much and it hurt him so badly. Jason is, in general, often scared that you'll realize you deserve better than him (which you always deny and say he's the best you could ever have), and it seems his worries became a nightmare for him tonight. You hold him close as he hiccups through his tears, whispering comforting words and smothering him in all the affectionate gestures you know he loves. You remind him that he's your one and only, that nobody could ever beat him for you, and when he asks if you truly mean it, you smile at him and tell him you swear your life on it. He shudders out a breath as he tiredly clings to you, snuggling into your neck and holding you close. The two of you stay up talking for a while, and it reminds Jason how much you care for him, and how much he cares for you, setting his mind and heart at ease as he finally relaxes once more.

[sk3tch404]

Yandere Donnie Darko Hcs

A/n: I finally came around to watching Donnie Darko while I was styling my hair this morning. It was so good and omgg HIS CHARACTER!!! Love it 💜 What he voices in where he rebels against authority resonates with me in the most honest and straight up sense, it's crazy.

CW: Characterizing of psychosis without research (I am in no way claiming this is how individuals who suffer some psychosis or with schizophrenic symptoms act or feel like. This is simply a work of fiction and how I see Donnie's mental state affect the scenario), Donnie is actually very tame here except for his obvious criminal record and acts of violence, and YALL HES A MENTALLY ILL TEENAGE BOY so he's a lowkey soft okay. Y'all see him with Gretchen? So caring and passionate ugh, love him sm. <33 I try to write as close to canon as possible, but sometimes that leads to really soft yans and I kind of doubt my writing. Despite that. I like to think that not all yanderes need to be possessive killing machines in order to fit into the troupe. Everyone's got their own way of dealing with obsession, and so I think I did decently with this one lol.

Proof read a few times, so sorry for wordy/run on sentences and possible wonky grammar.

I feel like Donnie is very observant and patient with his darling. He's quite analytical for a teenage boy which leads him to take time to consider the variables that weigh within your possible relationship.

Donnie is still an awkward kid, so dont be surprised when you accidentally find him staring at you for a considerable period of time in class. In school, he doesn't approach you, seeing as the setting is already suffocating enough. He'd try to catch you after school or when you two have a little bit of privacy.

He's kinda shy and clumsy at first glance--- too talkative in his speech and self-aware of his minor fuck ups. Over time, he'll be more open to what he wants with you. Donnie might not really understand how to handle love and all of its complexities, but hell try really hard to make it work.

Yeah, y'all saw how fast he dived in for that kiss in the film?... Embarrassing, but it's true that he's quite excited to show his affection for you. He'll be "so chill with it," and he is to an extent--- not too clingy at all--- but when he's around he gives you guard dog privileges. Stays at your side and defends you from any brain rotting comments made from the guys around the neighborhood. Donnie isn't much of a fighter, but he's damn well capable of planning and executing a crime if it calls for it. One count of arson, another unaccounted for, severe property damage, and murder? Don't doubt it for one second that he won't consider further acts in the future to come.

His psychosis affects him directly when it comes to you--- as it also does with most things. He already feels so shitty with how things are going in his life, Frank voicing the many thoughts he has about you day to day stresses him further. Sometimes Donnie is scared Frank will convince him to hurt you as the countdown progresses. Despite that fear, he can't keep away from you.

This distress causes Donnie to rebel more often. As he spirals down the rabbit hole Frank keeps digging for him, the anxiety that follows with what will happen to you once the world ends lingers late at night in his bed.

Donnie's main love language is quality time. He walks with you from school and chills with you pretty much wherever. He's pretty book-smart, so he'll pitch in with your projects and homework assignments. His parents don't really seem like they care what he does most of the time, so if he's given the chance, he'll crash at your place for a few before they think he's off sleepwalking or some shit.

Donnie already knows he's slipping off the rails, placebo medication or not, Frank stays to stir the pot. He's almost scared, scared to death that you'll think he's an insane lunatic and he'll scare you off. But at the same time, why be scared if it's the truth? He has evidence, the book, and his own visions. That anxiety doesn't go away when he rambles on about the six-foot-tall bunny rabbit and how that thing has led him to the method of time travel.

You're just left there dumb founded as he stares on at you with that deadpanned look. Too late to back out now. World's ending and you don't got a boyfriend. Well, you got Donnie... and Frank's there too sometimes, but either way, you're all each other's got. You don't want to be alone do you? Donnie knows he doesn't.

He trusts you more than anyone else. Yeah he's on meds, and sure he's loony, but everyone knows that already; not that they seemed to care too much anyway. He feels like he can just exist with you around. All that pent up frustration with the looming guilt of his actions festering inside can be washed out like waves on a cold shore. Of course, it's not a cure-all, but it's damn nice compared to the bone headed friends he got and the tense dinner table back at home.

He has scratch paper in his drawers that are just filled with messy sketches of you. Not sure if he'd be the type to use sketchbooks, but he is pretty organized in his own room. Donnie just finds you so easy and beautiful to draw. Art block has nothing on this boy. He hates it when his sisters barge into his room and see any unfinished piece of you lying around. They tease him so bad about it, he wishes they'd just leave him alone.

"Ooo, is this the girl you're always wasting your time with?"

"No, gimme it. It's none of your business, and get out of my room."

"Geez, fine. Not like that's the freakiest thing you got in here anyway."

Donnie wouldn't be the extreme stalking type, but if he caught a glance of you, he wouldn't be able to look away. He'd also take into account what your daily patterns are as well as your likes and dislikes. He notices your little habits like if you constantly apply too much pressure to your mechanical pencil, making your lead break. He's always have had a passive opinion on the school uniform, but you made it look good, great even. Donnie likes it even more seeing you in street wear. He takes note on your style and even thinks of taking some inspiration from it to feel closer to you.

He's sensitive in places a teenager would be in most. He's irritable and closed off much of the time, even to you if it gets bad enough. Of course, it's not your fault usually. It only makes sense to be defensive in the case of anything he may perceive as a threat, even if that means any possibility of you breaking his heart.

Donnie may be a bit shy in his advances, but what he isn't is hesitant. He's quite bold in his thoughts and feelings. While he is afraid of your judgement in particular, he doesn't mind doing many things in front of you. Your collar is crooked, so let him just fix it up real quick. Talk about something that's got him thinking? He's letting his thoughts pour out like it's happy hour. He sees no issue in doing what he wants to, so if you're feeling unsure or nervous about something, he'll be the one to do it for you. Not many questions asked unless it's got his serious attention.

Kisses are passionate and deep. (Tbh when I first watched the movie I was like, "DAMN dont eat her face- shit.") I dont know if Donnie has had previous experience or not, but he's definitely got the enthusiasm. He tries to match your rhythm if you seem to have trouble following. Not too much tongue, but best believe he's devouring your lips like it's the last 6 hours in the universe. His hands are roaming around your body, feeling the dips and curves so cautiously because Jesus, you're just rocking his fucking world. If you tell him to slow down, he will. Donnie never wants to force you to do anything you wouldn't want to.

Words of affirmation aren't really a thing for him. If he says something to you, it was probably on his mind anyway. If you say "I love you" to him, he'd be almost stunned but wouldn't have a problem reciprocating that energy. He just felt like that connection between you two was already clear enough. No need to say it so directly. Although, it's nice. He really loves and cares for you. Would take a bullet for you--- cross his heart till he dies, all that sappy shit.

If you reject him, let's just say Frank and Donnie will be speaking more often. It pushes him off the edge. Frank isn't in Donnie's head just to do evil shit, but it's not like his presence doesn't perpetuate Donnie's behavior further. He wouldn't go on a killing spree or anything excessively violent like that. He'd be hyper-focused on the time travel aspect of his situation and become more forceful in his methods. He'd demand answers to make sense of all of it. To cope with the fact you didn't want him like how he needed you. Why didn't you like him enough? What didn't he do? Actually, what did he do? His mind feels like its on the brink of breaking as he tries to rationalize all the negativity in his life. He's already done too much, his world feels like it's collapsing in on itself before the actual day could even come. You were a majority of that world, and now it's just broken.

Donnie is so distraught and confused about his adolescent experiences, he almost doesn't know what to do. The only thing to do from then on is to focus on the countdown. Time travel, and how to fix it all. Otherwise, not only would he be left alone, but you would be too. Donnie wouldn't want that for you, not ever. Even with all the pain and frustration stowed away inside his still beating heart, he would never wish to hurt you; one of the only people on Earth who didn't suck so much as everyone else did.

[hauntingwriteblr]

The Worst Part of Loving You (Sumeru Guys)

A/N: weeeee back in angst hours friends🎉🎉

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Tighnari won't call you his or let you call him yours. You've been flirting back and forth for a while and he's more affectionate with you than anyone else, letting you get closer than any friend would. And yet, that's all he ever calls you. You've never heard him refer to you as more, even though you both act like it. What you don't hear is his conversations with Cyno when no one else is around, those nights when he expresses his true fear is overwhelming you. He is fully aware of his monogamous nature as a fennec fox and the moment he allows that dam to break, he won't be able to let you go, regardless of what either of you want. He can't- no, he won't make that choice for you, so he pulls as far back as he can let himself, not realizing how this borderline behavior is hurting you more.

Cyno doesn't want you to hide anything from him. Of course he understands you have a right to privacy and he respects your boundaries, but he also knows about the wary looks he receives from everyone else. Ever since he became the General Mahamatra, he has caused unease and secretiveness in those around him, and he couldn't stand for you to see him the same way. You shouldn't fear him, you shouldn't have to hide anything from your partner, so he tries to know everything he can. He always asks about your day, and follows up on his follow up questions, until it almost feels like an interrogation. If you hesitate to answer, he urges you to continue, wanting you to feel safe and heard, yet his pursuit of honesty may cause the very anxiety he is trying to prevent.

Kaveh is perfect, too perfect. The Light of the Ksharewar and genius architect behind the Palace of Alcazarzaray has a reputation to live up to after all. What kind of man would he be if he couldn't make his most beloved happy? He works so much harder than before, both to earn the money to spoil you(even if you insist you don't need it) and to make sure you never see... the less likable sides of himself. Can't have you worrying about him after all. He's not stressed about work, and no, his living situation doesn't bother him a bit! Not a trace of exhaustion or self-doubt to be found here! After all, what could ever concern him when he has you?

Alhaitham is single-minded. It's one of the traits you admired most in him in fact. The day he decided to pursue you, no distraction or obstacle could dissuade him until he was yours. These days however, you feel like less of a goal and more of an obligation. Everything has it's place in his life, and now that wooing you is no longer a priority, he's shifted focus to other things. Anytime you try to see him outside of your scheduled date nights, he brushes you off with explanations of being busy. Of course, he still spends time with you and is never late to or forgetful of your dates, so what's the issue? What's making your heart ache at the thought of him?

[sundrop-writes]

Your First Kiss With Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

The Titans have faced a lot together, but never something quite as troubling as the possible return of an inter-dimensional demon that shreds apart worlds and leaves nothing standing in its wake.

You hate to admit it, but even standing with your team - you're afraid. Dick tries his best to comfort you, but for once during his career as noble, selfless team leader - he takes a moment to be selfish, and does something that he has been avoiding doing for years.

Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader. Childhood Friends to Lovers. Angst and Fluff. Set during Season 4, Episode 6.

Word Count: 2,900

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this one is a bit more on the angsty side; this fic features major spoilers for season 4 (and for the majority of the show) - so if you're watching it for the first time or you haven't seen it yet and you want to watch it spoiler free, then avoid this fic for now; the reader character is completely gender neutral - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; the reader is one of the original Titans; the reader and Dick are childhood friends through the Justice League - the reader is the adoptive child of Oliver Queen/Green Arrow (the reader is a talented marksman and trained in combat); the reader is mentioned to be an orphan (again, aren't all good superheroes); major pining from Dick - he has had a crush on the reader since they were kids (most of this is from his POV, so it's not specified if the reader has returned his feelings for just as long); mentions of canon character deaths; a lot of this is from Dick's POV so - warnings for Dick being emotionally constipated and referring to romantic feelings as a 'disease'; this is an AU where Dickkory never happened; mentions of canon violence - not described in graphic detail; mentions of the apocalypse/the world ending (and the anxiety this can cause); the reader is feeling extreme fear/anxiety due to the possible end of the world; technically - unresolved pining. I believe that's it.

A/N: The second part of the First Kiss series! I had a lot of fun with this one. This is the first really romantic fic I have written for Dick, and I enjoyed it so much omg. I was so tempted to write an enemies to lovers version with him, because he annoys me so much in the canon, and I feel like 'kissing in the middle of a heated argument' would work so well with his character - but maybe we'll save that one for Jason (or Hank, idk). instead, I went with emotionally constipated Dick Grayson, because that is sooo canon. he would not admit his feelings for someone if he had a gun to his head. and I had a lot of fun writing this mostly from his POV. I feel like he is such an interesting POV character to work with, so I might do more from him in the future. anyway, please enjoy!!

...

Stress. 

There were few other words to describe the horrible feeling that was dense in the air around them. 

Everyone was looking to Dick for answers, and unfortunately, he had none. Sebastian was missing, likely kidnapped by Mother Mayhem in order to complete a ritual that would likely mean the end of the world. Rachel had lost her powers and the Titans needed her unique form of magic now more than ever. Tim was impatient, annoyed because Dick wasn’t letting him use the minimal training that he had. But of course, Dick was hesitant to let the next would-be Robin off the bench after what had happened to Jason. 

(Dick could barely bring himself to think about Jason these days.) 

Kory was having difficulty controlling her newfound powers, and so was Gar. Which left the team weakened on all sides. Jinx was helpful on the magic front, but she was far from easy to control when it came to executing plans and corralling her rather wild personality. 

And Dick didn’t even want to think about what was happening with Conner. He just had to pray that this whole shaved-head, Lex Luthor impression was part of his mourning for his would-be father, and hopefully - it would be temporary. 

All of the chaos among the team left Dick leaning on you. As usual, you were likely the only person on the team who wasn’t experiencing any extreme drama. You were the only Titan with some true stability. 

And you were the person on the team with the most experience. Even more than Dick himself. Beyond being part of the original Titans team that had helped to found The Tower, you had been trained under Oliver Queen, who was part of the Justice League as Green Arrow. Ollie had taken you on as his own child when your parents died and left him as your carer in their will. Naturally, early into your childhood, he had started training you in the art of combat and marksmanship - so you grew up with intense skill. 

You and Dick met soon after he was adopted by Bruce. And much like Donna, you were a kind face and a wise voice that kept him mentally grounded well into adulthood. But you were also someone mischievous that made him smile; someone he could always turn to for a well timed laugh. 

You always kept him sane. 

And very much unlike Donna - soon after he met you, Dick started to develop feelings for you. 

Of course, back then, it was just a silly crush. When he told Donna about it at the time, she laughed. And when he had hidden his face in embarrassment, she then told him that it was ‘cute’. She told him that you two would be good together when you got older. So naturally, Dick took her words as biblically concrete advice. 

He decided that he should wait for you. That the two of you would be good together when you got older. 

So he waited. 

And he waited. And eventually - life got in the way. 

He had a huge falling out with Bruce, things at the Tower went south. It was never the right time to tell you. How the hell could he tell his best friend that he had those big, terrifying feelings mounting inside of him, worsening each year like a disease? 

It was never the right time to tell you because he was dodging disasters left and right and he needed you more as a friend than as a lover. He needed you as a brick wall to lean on. He needed you as that voice of common sense in his ear - the leader’s loyal first mate, giving him advice behind the curtain and keeping his head on straight. 

He didn’t need to tell you about his awful, festering feelings and have you gone from his life too. 

When Garth died, and then Jericho died and the Tower shuddered, it still didn't feel like the right time. Wounds were tender and even if you were never downright angry at him like everyone else was - you needed your space. Dick respected that. 

That day, you stood at the mouth of the elevator, about to leave for Star City to go and lick your emotional wounds at Ollie’s for a while, and you looked at Dick with tears in your eyes - looked at him like you were waiting for him to say it. But it wasn’t the right time. 

He still thought about you every single day when he was in Detroit. And then - he showed up at your door with a scared little girl, needing more advice, needing that brick wall again. It was only natural that when chaos found him, he needed your help. 

He hated that your advice was to call in Dawn and Hank. He relied on you, and you relied on family. And he hated that they were waiting at your apartment, called against his will once he had left to do some more sleuthing. 

But he found that you were right when he saw how Dawn bonded with Rachel, when Hank put up a vicious fight against those strangers who came to collect her in the name of her father. 

Watching you get thrown off that roof sent Dick’s heart through his stomach. As he clung onto the rooftop with his fingers and the muscles of his arm burned, all he could think about was you. As you sputtered out blood and he cradled your head, unsure of how to help you, terror gripped him in a way that it never had before in his life, because he realized that he might actually lose the most important person in his life. 

As you lay in the hospital, a set of machines barely keeping you alive, with Dawn loyally holding your hand in comfort and Hank seething to get revenge on the people who had hurt you - Dick ached with regret and not having told you. 

Still, when you showed up at that house in Ohio, somehow magically awakened from your near death by Rachel's powers - Dick felt that it just wasn't the right time. He swallowed his regrets like ash in his mouth when he reunited with you, hugged you tight. He didn’t even consider telling you about his feelings to be on the radar of possibility. 

When you came back to the Tower to help bring in Doctor Light - it just wasn't the right time. When you showed up in Gotham to help bring down Red Hood - it just wasn't the right time. 

Even when Dick died and was brought back to life by some strange magical pit, a pool of waters that brought him dreams of a far off life with you - it still wasn’t the right time. 

You were there to Dick's call, loyal and waiting, every single time. You looked at him with as much love and longing in your eyes as he needed (at least, according to Dawn and Donna you did) - but still, it never felt like the right time. 

It never felt like the right time to destabilize his entire life by uprooting the one good friendship he had. It never felt like the right time to truly fuck things up with you. 

Now, because of some cult that Dick believed to be long gone and a stupid blood ritual, the world was ending, and it still didn't feel like the right time. 

He wasn't the son of a demon from another dimension, but he still felt cursed. 

When Dick saw you slip out of the room, clearly trying to sneak away from the group, his stomach twisted with nerves. It was rare that you of all people cracked under the pressure. It was rare that you needed to escape from the madness for a breath. He mumbled an excuse to Kory and then chased after you, knowing that it wouldn't be hard to tell where he was truly going - but truthfully, he didn’t care. 

He easily caught you in one of the late night deserted halls of STAR Labs. 

The many glass walls overlooked the city - a collection of bright lights that made up Metropolis. Thousands of people that you never knew, that you had never met before. People that all seemed too important now as you contemplated their lives; thought about the fact that you might not be able to save them. 

Dick saw the sickly look on your face, the glassy sheen of guilt in your eyes even from far off as you leaned on the polished titanium railing that separated the upper floors from the atrium. His footsteps echoed in the empty hall and you heard him approaching from far off. He made no effort to sneak up on you or conceal himself, not wanting to startle you when you were already in such a distressed state. 

The minute you looked over your shoulder and saw him, your face broke from that dark, doomed frown into a haste smile, and you reached up to wipe away your tears, attempting to be subtle with that motion. You were trying to hide yourself from him. 

Dick came to stand beside you, resisting the urge to pull you into his arms. He desperately wanted to shelter you away from any fear you might be feeling. Maybe it was selfish; wanting to hold you, wanting to protect you from anything in the world that could possibly harm you. Maybe it was downright idiotic - because realistically, he knew that couldn't protect you from this kind of harm. He couldn’t protect you from the world ending. 

“Y/N-” Dick murmured your name gently, clutching a fist tightly by his side to resist the urge to reach out and soothe a hand over the trembling muscles of your jaw. 

You were holding in a sob, and it came out as a harsh, sarcastic laugh instead. 

“I know.” You said. “I know. You're doing that Team Leader Guy Thing.” 

You tried to make it sound playful and joking, but with your voice wet and soaked with worry and fear, it came off as a pathetic bid to deflect. 

Dick wasn’t sure how to reply. Because yes, he was doing that ‘Team Leader Guy Thing’. He was trying his best to, anyway. 

“You're gonna ask ‘are you okay?’ and I'm gonna lie and say ‘I'm fine, boss. All good.’” You continued. 

At least you were being straightforward about it being a lie. 

Dick wished that he had something genuinely helpful to say, but his throat stalled with dryness and his chest ached at seeing you so distraught. It really wasn’t something that he was used to. 

“I mean, it's not like it's the end of the world.” You let out another dry, sarcastic laugh. 

Then, there was a moment of silence - a beat of realization as your chin quivered and more thick tears rimmed your eyes. 

“It's - it's only the end of the world.” You spoke these words heavier, dropping any false laughter in your tone - it truly hit you. Any further jokes you could make left you. 

Dick choked on his own tears when he heard the aborted sob in your chest - something that came out as a whimper when you reached up to clutch at your heart. 

You were genuinely terrified. Terrified that the Titans wouldn’t be able to find a solution in time. Terrified that everyone was going to die. Not just the people you loved, but - everyone. 

“Hey, come on.” Dick said, his leader instincts, his natural caring for you kicking in. “We've been through worse.” 

Working with the Titans, you had been through a lot. Drug busts, battling against costumed psychopaths, the loss of a dear friend to a dangerous assassin. But you weren’t sure that you had been through something worse than this. Everything the Titans had been through had never affected the world on such a large scale. 

“Have we?” You argued gently. 

Perhaps not. Maybe the only time the team had been in such dire straits was the first time Trigon attempted to come to earth. But that had been when Rachel had been armed with her powers and had been prepared to take him down. But Dick wasn't going to voice those thoughts to you. 

You waited in agony for him to say something, and your tears finally breached - rolling down your face in hot tracks, laying marks of the true fear you were feeling, laying it all bare for the first time. Dick knew that his own eyes reflected that same glossy hurt now, if only for the pain he felt in seeing you cry - something that was so incredibly rare over the time he had known you. 

Dick reached out and gently cupped the side of your cheek, running his thumb across your face and wiping some of those tears away. You were so startled by the tenderness of the touch that you couldn't help but to let out a whimper, and you felt frozen as Dick spoke his next words. 

“It's gonna be okay.” He told you, trying his hardest to sound confident in the words. “We're gonna get through this. I know we will.” 

This time, unlike many before, you couldn't be inspired by his confidence. 

“Have you - have you considered what happens if we don't?” Your voice barely reached above a whisper, barely daring to tempt fate with this possibility. 

Honestly, Dick had not. In these kinds of situations, he didn't allow himself to focus too much on the negative. As the team leader, he did have to take all the possibilities into account. It was something he had to do in order to keep everyone safe. But if he focused too much on death and darkness, much like Bruce did, then he knew that paranoia would overtake him and his team would get caught in the crossfire. 

He had to spend his time coming up with solutions to fix the problem rather than spending his time caught up in knots, worrying about what would happen if he fumbled and didn't actually fix things after all. 

The literal end of the world? It just wasn't a possibility in this mind. 

But right now, standing there, staring into your big eyes, glossed over with fear as you looked to him for answers - there was only one thing that Dick could think of. 

And it was so incredibly selfish. It didn’t have anything to do with the team or being a good leader. It didn’t have anything to do with helping the others. 

Dick brushed his thumb over your cheek again, an incredibly tentative touch that had your skin tingling. You let out a small sigh, and the world froze around you when he leaned in - slowly, moving toward you at a pace that more than gave you time to escape if you wanted to. But you found that you didn’t want to. You found his closeness to be an incredible comfort in these moments of mental chaos. 

And so, he gently planted his lips on yours. 

It should have come as a shock - your childhood best friend kissing you. But in that moment, it just felt right. All you could do was shut your eyes and lean into the kiss, reaching up to grip his wrist, keeping him close to you as you leaned into his smothering heat. His lips were surprisingly soft, and he tasted like coffee - using caffeine to keep himself awake for days, trying to marathon a solution against the impending doom. 

His kiss was firm but so giving - a touch that easily swallowed you up with heat from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. It was a sensation that pushed out the rest of the world, smothered any worries about who or what might bring an end to it. 

It was the most tender, but most wonderfully passionate kiss that you had ever experienced in your life. 

When he pulled away, you sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly feeling incomplete without his lips on yours. The shock then began to set in, like pulling the knife from a stab wound and feeling the blood rush out of you freely. It created a dizzying mixture with the heat that was now boiling under your skin. 

Why? Your brain screamed out as you stared at him. When? How long had he wanted to kiss you? How long had you been missing out on Dick Grayson? 

Dick could see all those questions bubbling beneath your surface as the fear in your eyes shifted to confusion, and he finally decided to speak. 

“I'm sorry.” He said quietly. “But if the world does end, I couldn't die without knowing what kissing you is like.” 

“Dick-” You sighed, about to go on a long rant about how he could have done that years ago, about how he should have - and the end of the world was a shitty excuse. 

But you abruptly cut off your own words when more footsteps squeaked down the hall - the rubber soles of sneakers scuffing against the polished floor. 

Dick jumped away from you as though he had been burned, clearly wanting to keep the interaction private. Both of you tuned to see Gar approaching. 

“Dick?” He posed. Gar had a look of confusion, clearly wondering if he should question what was going on between the two of you but swallowing it. 

“Yeah?” Dick replied. 

“Um - Conner's missing.” He announced this in a nervous, meek tone, not wanting to bring the team leader any more bad news. 

“What?” Dick gaped. 

There was no time to further discuss what Dick had said to you. With the end of the world in your hands, it easily fell to the back of your mind. 

...

If you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.

[homelanderbutbig]

My Hero (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1082 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

The first time you went to Homelander's cabin.

This is the first time Homelander's invited you to spend the night at his cabin. You know that him even asking you to come with him is something special as his cabin is the place he goes to get away from the rest of society. It was a pretty sudden question too, as he asked you the second you entered his penthouse after your evening shift. In fact, he didn't even give you time to pack your pajamas as he was already scooping you up into his arms to fly off the balcony.

A few minutes later he touches down hard in the middle of a dense forest, causing leaves to float up all around him from the force of his impact. As you begin to regain your bearings, you try and grasp where exactly you landed. The area is pitch black, with the foliage blocking out the moonlight from above. The only sounds you can hear are a few crickets chirping in the distance, and the crunching of leaves under Homelander's feet while he walks. You're still held tight in his arms, so close to his chest that you barely even see the outdoor lights illuminating his secluded hideaway's exterior.

The cabin itself is dimly lit, with a chandelier being the only source of light inside. It's a challenge to make out any of the interior decorations, though it's impossible to ignore the sheer size of the furniture. Similarly to his penthouse, everything in the cabin had to be built oversized, larger than life, just for the supe who towers over everyone.

When he finally releases you to the ground, he stands silently in place waiting for you to break the ice. Entertaining company is not a type of situation where he has much experience, and he's already fairly stressed from his exhausting day being paraded around by Vought. He wants you to tell him what to do, or at least what you want to do.

You decide to start exploring the cabin's main floor, sauntering over to the massive couch where you expect to spend the majority of the evening. Directly in front of the couch is a fireplace, and you discover that it's already been prepped for a roaring fire with a hefty stack of logs. There is also a matchbox on the hearth, perhaps left behind by someone else. Picking up the box reveals that there are still a few matches inside, so you take one out and attempt to strike it. You aren't having much success, but you aren't giving up quite yet.

Wordlessly watching from the entrance, Homelander sees you struggle with your task. The more you keep failing, the more he can feel his own frustration growing. You're spending so much time on this activity that you've assigned to yourself; you aren't even paying attention to him. With a deep exhale and a roll of his eyes, he storms over and kneels down beside you. Before you can utter a sentence, he uses his laser vision to quickly set the the logs on fire.

As his lasers dissipate, he notices that you are frozen in place, hands halfway through another attempt at lighting the match. He feels a wave of anxiety constricting throughout his chest, and angles his head away from you. Did he go too far with his powers? He's scared you, he knows it. His abilities frighten everyone around him, even when he's restraining himself. If his powers are too much for other supes to handle, how could he have expected that you would be any different?

Suddenly, he feels your gentle touch caressing the side of his face, shaking him out of his compounding thoughts. When he looks back at you, there isn't even the slightest hint of fear anywhere on your face. As a matter of fact, you look… appreciative.

"Thank you for helping me Homelander," you compliment, your voice so easily soothing the self-inflicted scorches to his ego. "But…" you trail off, your words taking him hostage. But what? Did he do something wrong? Did he not do it to your satisfaction?

"But… you missed one sweetie," you remark, pointing to the one stray log in the corner of the fireplace, the only one not sporting a flame.

Oh.

He huffs a short laugh at that response, letting go of the breath he didn't even realize he was still holding. You see him start to smile from your sneaky little bait-and-switch reply as the uneasiness drains from his body. You're pretty sure that is the first time he's had a genuine smile on his face all day. Even if nobody else can tell his real smile from his 'in-public fake celebrity smile', you take solace in knowing you get to keep this secret all to yourself.

With the utmost precision, Homelander uses his laser vision to ignite the one log. He then turns back to you, waiting with a shy smirk for you to continue your praise.

"My hero," you giggle, readjusting yourself to your knees so you can give him a proper kiss. It really doesn't take much for you to have him wrapped around your finger, just a simple kiss and your hands on his cheeks. But those small acts speak a thousand words to a man who was neglected of that love his whole life. You hear him practically purring into your lips with each stroke of your fingers as he becomes enraptured by your affections. He's leaning closer and closer towards you until he finally just picks you up to place you on his expansive thighs. His hands are formed perfectly to your hips as you feel his big fingers rubbing along your back, a small gesture to return your own caresses.

Breaking from your kiss, you get the chance to look into his eyes, shining as radiant blue windows into his soul. He may have entered the cabin as a frazzled mess, but right now he completely relaxed. He is a mountain of a man that is putty in your hands.

"Hey, why don't we cuddle on the couch?" you say softly, nuzzling your forehead into his. "We'll have the perfect view of the fire."

Homelander nods as he hums happily at your request, knowing full well that your cuddle session also means he gets to have some head scratches too. A perfect ending to the evening, one that he hopes he gets to have again… the next time he invites you to the cabin.

[karmarox]

Kallamar the Coward

Thinking about Kallamar in Cult of the Lamb, with how the lore and even his own siblings taunt him for being a coward and he even tries to bargain and sway you away from getting your revenge and killing him, even ready to throw Shamura under the bus to save himself, but then when you finally push him into a corner and he's forced to fight he not only busts out a bunch of weapons and starts quad-wielding them but he was once regarded by the fandom as being among the hardest bosses of the base game.

It got me thinking, was he always like this? Narinder certainly thinks so, but there's bias there. It's easy to just write him off as always being a mess like this...

But there's no denying he's the second in power after Shamura, Anchordeep is known for its beauty, he takes personal pride in the way he took care of his cult/area, and when in Purgatory out of all the bishops he's notably the most lucid/aware of where he is.

So I present this: After Narinder's sealing, Shamura was in no state to lead or give orders. The Bishops all had massive injuries that refused to heal. Who out of the 4 would immediately be assumed to be the one to take a leadership role? Who had comparatively more "manageable" injuries to take care of the other 3? And who would you assume is most likely to have medical experience to at least try to lessen the impact of all of their wounds?

Kallamar, Pestilence and Cure.

Early on after The One Who Waits was sealed away, Kallamar would have had to effectively take over the Old Faith while also caring for a broken beyond repair older sibling, who had always been the "Wise" one that the others blindly followed, yet was now barely even there at the best of times, and two younger siblings, one who was now permanently blind (and young/weak enough that they couldn't even muster a single Curse towards the Lamb before being crushed within days of their resurrection even years after the sealing, so just imagine how new to godhood they were back when this all started), and another who had had her throat torn out, all while downplaying his own wounds.

What if, then, at some point, he simply broke?

He resents Shamura, even potentially sincerely blames them for causing the entire thing (which Shamura confesses to), both leading them to turn on Narinder and also for leading everyone to killing the Lambs. He's still fond of Leshy, but from how quick to take charge Heket is, it's clear that after he proved unable to take the stress of it all, she was next in line as the "leader" of The Old Faith. There's gotta be some resentment there on both ends because of that, particularly with how quick he is to criticize how she took care of her territory.

And then compare how he is as a bishop to how he is as a follower. I think it's very very interesting that he goes from a dirty coward and absolute pathetic mess of anxiety and fear, to pleading directly to his own executioner for help, to being almost perfectly happy and content to simply be a Follower of the Lamb's cult. The others (minus Shamura, due to their condition) are resentful and quick to give sharp words to the Lamb, but Kallamar? It's like all his anxiety is gone with his godhood. He has nothing to fear anymore, and is almost ridiculously quick to be friendly to the Lamb and share his tastes in decor and pride in appearances with them. Not even in the "kissing up" way, he talks like they're equals. Is this what Kallamar was like, before everything? Is he actually HAPPIER as a Mortal now that all of the responsibility and fear of death is gone? Even secretly grateful?

There's no denying his cowardice. There's no denying it crossed a line when he was ready to betray Shamura when his nerves reached their limit. There's no denying that as much as he'd like to believe that he is absolved of guilt for The Old Faith's sins simply because he was just doing what Shamura told him to even if he claims he thought it was a bad idea.

But you also have to wonder what caused that cowardice to form, and what other feelings motivate his actions besides fear.

(tldr: sad squid was not ready to become the responsible one, especially not after going deaf and being traumatized. Has a mental breakdown halfway through raising the others due to not being able to actually deal with going deaf or being traumatized because it turns out being the god of physical health is different from mental health. Little sister ends up having to step up and be the mom now. Their relationship never recovered because of it, and he now blames the eldest for failing them and also for his own failures to cope. As a bonus developed an attachment to his own killer out of some weird warped perception of them "rescuing" him from his stress and then from death itself.)

[yandere-kokeshi]

Yandere Gyomei and Rengoku with a gn darling who has a fear of men

Request(ed): Yes! - how would rengoku and gyomei react to the reader, whom they’ve been trying to befriend but everytime they see them, they runs off in fear. Turns out, reader has a fear of men (specifically demon slayers) and was formally in an abusive relationship? Hope this isn’t too heavy. — requested by anonymous.

Warnings: Yandere behavior and conversations about trauma.

Authors note: I hope this turned out okay! This is my first time writing Rengoku. Love you <33

Gyomei Himejima:

It hurts him whenever you run off in fear, it makes him feel bad. At first, he believes it’s his height, I mean… he’s had children, women, and even elders avoid him out of intimidation because of how tall he is; he understands he seems scary, especially with how strong he is.

But, when Gyomei hears you talking to your friends, saying that Gyomei seems like a nice man but you’re scared of him; specifically all men and Demon Slayers? It makes him cry. He hates seeing you suffer, so once you say those words… he’d be quite sad. Of course, not at you but what caused you to have this trauma.

From then on, he’d try to do anything to make you feel safe or comfortable in his presence, even if it means keeping his distance, putting away his hand ax-flail, and sitting down in the corners, trying to be ‘as small as possible’.

When he does want to meet or you want to talk to him, he will make an arrangement for some tea outside; a place where it’s open, near a river and people walking by.

He will get you gifts: flowers from outside in the courtyard, showing you that he means no harm whatsoever. Whenever he senses that you’re unsure of his presence, he will leave the room.

Gyomei will never, ever make you feel pressured to do things. If you don’t wanna hang out, there’s always another day. Or if you don’t feel comfortable going somewhere, rather staying home, he’s fine with that too.

Gyomei always has a ‘safe room’ for you whenever you’re overstimulated or upset. He never, ever goes in that room, always leaves it up for you and respects your boundaries when you put them on.

If and when you do start to feel comfortable with him, Gyomei will praise you on your forwarding: “I’m happy you’re slowly expanding on your fear. I understand it’s hard, please do tell me if I can do anything to help in any way; shape, or form. I’m proud of you, darling.”

When you’re ready to talk about your trauma, he will be there, holding you and rubbing your back; comforting you with reminders of deep breaths. Once he learns what happens, he will praise you on telling him and make sure you never meet the person that caused you so much anxiety and fear; he will make sure of it.

Kyojuro Rengoku:

It confused him to no end when you always ran off, I mean… he’s not scary, right? He’s a big ol’ teddy bear that may or may not be very warm and comforting to be around.

Sure, Rengoku can be loud and immediately jogs to get to you; but everytime he comes near, you run off.. A type of fear in your eyes that stresses him out. Due to him not wanting to stress you out more, he starts to ask around: your neighbors and friends to reason and find out ‘why’.

But, when he finds out the reason ‘why’ you fear him, he immediately fixes his approaches towards you and tries to seem as friendly as possible; not wanting to stress you out or scare you more.

Rengoku immediately stops yelling at you from across the room, rather approaching you with a gentle smile and keeps his distance. When he wants to hang out, he lets you pick the place, even if he disagrees or doesn’t like it. He will try to keep his volume down, making sure to talk in a comfort-level voice to make you feel okay.

Much like Gyomei, he will eat somewhere with you outside; wanting you to feel as free as possible and realize you don’t have to fear him, rather feel at ease with him. Rengoku will even take off his uniform, put away his haori and katana, and stay away from the exit; sitting in front of you so you can see what he’s doing.

He will never, ever approach you when your back is turned, rather asking someone to get your attention and trying to never touch you; always asking for your permission first.

Rengoku will buy you gifts, much like Gyomei, he will give you flowers, clothes, and jewelry to show that he doesn’t want what you think and he just wants to get to know you.

When you do feel comfortable and open up about your trauma, he will be there, comforting you whilst holding hands with you: “That must’ve been hard for you. I’m sorry that happened, I just want you to know I’m proud of you; I have and always will be. Why don’t we get your favorites and watch the stars, yes?”

Rengoku will make sure to never, ever make you witness the man ever again. Not that he will be alive that is.

—

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Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Love you all <33

[spotty-bee]

I watched the three Troll Movies the last few days and got inspired to make an Au! I was like, what would happen if a troll didn't turn grey all the way? What if they had lost hope, but not all of it? So I thought drew some fun designs and here they are!

Basically King Peppi was separated from Poppy's group and ended up with Viva's, causing poppy to think her dad is dead and is more frightened of the Burgens because of it. She starts to get grey marks on her body, but thanks to her still somewhat happy, bubbly personality, she doesn't go fully grey. The group has leadership issues since Peppi is gone, with a lot of infighting about what they should do and where they should go. Rebuilding society is a lot harder on the group, which is why it's so easy for kids like Poppy to get lost in the shuffle, nobody to really, fully take care of them.

Branch, still grey after the loss of his grandma and abandoned by his brothers, is there for Poppy when the adults are busy fighting or Poppy's friends have to go home. The two have a lot more in common in this Au, both fearing Bergans and their possibly return. So Branch gets her to help build his bunker with him, as well as explain his backstory to her far earlier than the movies.

Eventually the Burgans DO find them as the adults make too much noise both partying and fighting over what to do. Poppy and Branch are the only ones to realize and Poppy manages to convince her friends and a few others to hide in the bunker with them. More Trolls are lost to the Bergans but Poppy is fully recognized as leader by the ones she's saved. Branch and Poppy both agree to abandon their current location, going deeper into the woods where the foliage is so thick no Bergan can enter. Though there are a lot of dangerous wild animals and very little light. The entire town starts living in bunkers interconnected by tunnels. Rarely singing or dancing. They remain pretty undisturbed until the events of either the second or third movie... depending on weather Poppy got the pop string or if Peppi took it with him.

Other than that, Viva and Clay are the ones who carry out the events of the first movie. (Its not quiet the same, Creek is with Poppy's group and still a coward that gets kicked out, but he doesn't effect Viva and Clay's story.) For the second I'm leaning toward Peppi taking the string with him (but that can be changed), so Barb attacks the Putt Putt Trolls instead. However Viva and Clay also handle that, and Viva manages to steal Barb's heart in the process. (I'm not sure if Barb is the same age as Poppy or not, but in my Au she's between Poppy and Viva in age, so its fine.)

So right now its not until the time around the third movie that Branch and Poppy make contact with their siblings. Branch is more cold and doesn't talk much outside of to Poppy. Poppy is more withdraw, reserved and nervous. Both have continually greyed under the stress of taking care of their people, fighting off predators, getting supplies and hiding from Bergans. However Poppy's hope for her people has kept her going and Branch's belief in Poppy keeps him going.

Branch and Poppy also get together sooner than the movies, as they knew each other longer. (Poppy has a brief stint of dating Creek first before he betrays them and gets kicked out. ) Their relationship is good, they can talk without words and are almost always on the same page, but they also feed each other's anxieties and pessimism. Once reunited with their families and the more nitty gritty details have been sorted out (Who's the Pop Queen, ect, ect.) the two actually have to be separated for their own health, as they keep feeding each other's fear, dreaming up worse case scenarios and how to get out of them, trying to make a new bunker, hording supplies, ect. This temporary separation gives them a chance to get to know their families again.

Poppy didn't remember Viva at all in the third movie, so I don't think she'd remember her father either in this AU. So she has to build a relationship from scratch with people who already love her in Putt Putt Pop Village. Branch, meanwhile, hates being away from Poppy and hates his brothers who abandoned him. (Though deep down he really wants them back in his life.) It also doesn't help that he has essentially gone from a perpetually dark, dangerous forest to the brightly lit, busy beaches of Vacay Island, getting constant over stimulation. He's very resistant to his brother's help at first, but eventually realizes that their just trying to improve his health (Physically and mentally) and that fighting it is just hurting Poppy. (Poppy makes a turn about much easier than Branch does, reversing some of her greying. However when she and Branch get to visit during the temporary separation, Branch actually causes some of it to come back, which is when he realizes the others are right and tries to do more to get better himself.) After they do improve they're free to do as they please and reunite as an even better couple.

As for the events of the third movie with Floyd, either Viva helped the brother save Floyd by stealing him back, still inside the diamond prison, or Floyd gets taken after these events.

Anyway! Thats what I have for now! Let me know what you think and if you have any ideas or questions!