#the one time he gets all funny in messages

[sp-by-april]

Dying To Know [Ch. 01]

Okay, so this is a slasher/yandere fic. It's also like, the first chapter and mostly laying the groundwork for everything to come.

It's Eric, Kenny, Kyle, Stan x F!Reader. No Smut this chapter, but I promise we will get there. 😭

Summary: There's a slasher on the loose and students at South Park High are being taken out one by one. You're at the center of it all, and it doesn't help that each of your four best friends is acting weird.

[Read on Ao3] [South Park Master Lists]

Heidi Turner was scared. She’d been stalking – No, investigating The New Girl again. Heidi followed her home as she walked with Stan, Kenny, Kyle and Eric. They were completely stupid about that chick, constantly following her around like fresh hatchlings that imprinted on the wrong creature. It made Heidi sick.

They walked her home, argued about walking her home – who said what, who touched her where or too much – and then they split up. Eric headed to his place, Kyle and Stan to the Broflovski’s and Kenny to… wherever the fuck of several places Kenny liked roam to instead of going home.

She considered approaching Kyle first, but she went to Eric instead.

“The New Girl isn’t what you think,” Heidi pleaded with him, but Eric waved her off.

He called her a jealous psycho and it made Heidi’s blood boil. She stalked home and fumed the whole way. As she stepped onto her front porch, Heidi heard a familiar chime from her purse. It was a text message. She pulled out her cell, (a trendy, freshly purchased LG Chocolate) and opened the text.

It said only two words: Come back.

She rolled her eyes. It was 2006 and cell service was supposedly improving but the shit was still consistently spotty in Park County. Of course she didn’t get the text until she was already home, that was just her luck.

Heidi turned around and headed back to Eric’s.

🕐 🕕 🕚

High school is tough for everyone, but I had an especially rough junior year. My father died, and my mother moved us back to her hometown. I think it was a comfort thing for her. It was a bumfuck place in some flyover state that I’d only ever been a few times to visit extended family members that I never liked or cared about.

South Park, Colorado. There were two temperatures, cold and colder. Almost everything was covered in a layer of melting ice that somehow never finished thawing. Snow crunched under my heels like skeletons of the friends I left behind.

Once we moved, my mother completely checked out. I was pretty much left to fend for myself. The whole thing was overwhelming. Luckily, I ended up with a group of new friends.

Eric Cartman was…. Weird. I thought the guy hated me most of the time. He would always make subtle digs about my family, something I said, or an item of clothing I was wearing. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to realize that he was pretty much negging me. I couldn’t escape the guy, either. He was in most of my classes and for whatever reason if there was a group project, we always got paired up. At first, I only put up with him because I liked his other friends so much.

Stan Marsh was hot in an obvious way. Great body. Started a band called Crimson Dawn and they played gigs regularly. He had this kind of tortured artist vibe that I really dug. He reeked of inner turmoil, you know what I mean? I was always a sucker for that kind of thing.

I got close to Stan first, and fast. He would walk me to class. Eat lunch with me. Invite me to shows. It was actually at one of his bands shows that I started getting close to Kenny.

Kenny McCormick was an interesting guy. Obviously, I saw him around school and knew him through Stan, but he was surprisingly social. He got along well with everyone. One night we got drunk and just talked about how much our parents sucked. He was so easy to talk to and he’s a really funny guy. I like him a lot. As I got to know him more, I realized that one of the things that made Kenny special was that he had secrets. I tried not to pry too much

As a matter of fact, all the guys were pretty easy to get to know.

Except for Kyle.

Kyle Broflovski was kind of an enigma at first. A basketball player at the top of his classes. He didn’t start fights, but he’d finish them. He had a bold streak that I really admired. I don’t know what his deal was, but it seemed like he had kind of a wall built up. He was hard for me to get to know at first. I always felt awkward around him.

Which sucked, because I was crushing really hard.

I always thought Eric would be the one keeping me out of the friend group, but from what I heard, the resistance came from Kyle. It was a huge blow to my ego.

I’m not trying to brag when I tell you this, but I’m a pretty girl and I’ve never really had trouble when it comes to guys. Attention from men is so easy to come by, it’s practically worthless… You know what I mean?

But Kyle was withholding. It just made me crush harder.

Once I was informally part of the friend group, I didn’t fit in like a missing puzzle piece or whatever poetic metaphor that would’ve completed the fantasy… It was more like we were all a bunch of feral dogs that latched onto each other for safety while we navigated the perils of young adulthood.

When senior year started, things were pretty normal. It was our first day of our last year and I was at the bus stop with the guys. Stan was smoking a cigarette and Kenny was unsuccessfully trying to get him to share. Eric was ranting about something some celebrity said, while Kyle and I were doing our best to ignore him. I was wearing an unseasonably short skirt with a comically large sweater. The leaves were crunching under my maryjanes while I did a dance familiar to any girl who once pretended she wasn’t freezing her ass off for the sake of being cute.

Then I heard something. Like screaming. It was coming towards us.

Kyle exchanged a look with me, and Kenny’s head shot up. Stan glanced around. Eric finally got the memo but by then we all saw him.

Butters was running right for us, yelling something indecipherable. 

By the time he reached us, he was panting so much that we still couldn’t understand him.

“Hyhe!,” Butters panted as he bent over and rested his palms on his knees, “Hyhee’s gone,”

Eric frowned at him, “Try it again, but this time say it in English,”

“She’s dead” Butters continued and we all understood that.

Kyle took a step towards him, “Who’s dead?

Butters looked up, his eyes darting between Kyle and Eric, “...Heidi Turner,”

It was like the oxygen had been sucked right out of the atmosphere. I only knew Heidi because we were both on the A-Squad in Cheer, but I guess her ties to my friends ran a lot deeper. 

I’d been in town six months, but I still had a lot to learn about everyone. 

The bus ride to school was illuminating. I sat in between Stan and Kenny. Eric and Kyle sat in front of us. Neither of them said a word. Every student around us was buzzing, discussing Heidi’s death and theorizing about the hows and whys.

“It’s a twisted mess,” Stan said quietly as his eyes rolled to the sky, “She bounced back and forth between them for like two years,”

Kenny put his arm around my shoulder and his mouth hovered over my ear, “Until you showed up,” 

“Weird coincidence,” I said, tugging at the hem of my sweater.

“Maybe,” Stan lifted Kenny’s arm off of me and he leaned back against the seat, “Maybe not,”

My eyes narrowed, “What the hell does that mean?”

Stan sighed and shook his head.

Kenny’s head tilted as he looked at me, “You’ve gotta kn–”

“Shut up,” Stan groaned.

Kenny frowned and did just that.

He crossed his arms and we were as silent for the rest of the ride as Eric and Kyle were.

I know it was selfish, but I was frustrated. I had only just started making headway with Kyle and now his ex-girlfriend had to go and die. It’s kind of the worst time in the History of Everything to ask a guy out.

When we all piled out of the bus Principal Victoria was there. She pulled aside Eric, Kyle…. And me.

We sat in her office with Sergeant Yates. It was the most awkward I ever felt in my life. To make things worse, I couldn’t figure out why I was there. I was sure there had to be some mistake.

There wasn’t.

Cartman crossed his arms, “Look – Heidi died and we all knew her. We don’t need a counseling session,”

Kyle slumped back in his chair and agreed with Eric for once, “He’s right,”

Yates looked between the three of us, “No talking,”

Kyle’s face twisted up and I could tell he was resisting the urge to push back. Honestly, so was I.

The door opened and Detective Murphy’s head popped into the room, “Okay, we’ve got the cheerleaders,”

Yates pointed to me, “Take this one,”

“Is she the one–”

“Yeah,” Yates gestured for me to stand and I obeyed.

Murphy had a distinct grimace on his face as I walked towards him. His facial expression combined with the way they talked about me didn’t inspire confidence.

Waiting in the hall were my other squad members, Nichole Daniels, Bebe Stevens and our captain, Wendy Testaburger. We followed the Detective to our counselor’s office. We stood around for like a half hour and he ushered us outside and into a police van. 

They drove us down to the station and finally brought us into an interrogation room.

I sat next to Bebe and tried to ignore her as she pulled a nail file out of her purse and went to work. Nichole looked at me nervously, “Do they think we’re suspects?” “I doubt it,” Wendy said emphatically, “We still have all our belongings”

Wendy was right. They would’ve taken our backpacks and purses, but they didn’t. So what did that mean?

We waited for what felt like hours until Yates could come back to the station and talk to us. He wasn’t alone – He’d brought our parents.

He looked between us nervously, “I’m gonna cut to the chase. Heidi Turner was murdered,”

Gasps, groans and a heavy air of fear fell over the room like a shroud.

“What’s this got to do with our daughters?” Mrs. Daniels said, “Surely you don’t think they’re capable–“

“We think they could be the next victims,” He continued.

Dead silence.

“We can’t divulge too much information on a current case but we found trinkets belonging to each of you, scribblings that appeared to be satanic – and an obsession with one of you in particular,”

“Who?” Mr. Testaburger asked.

Yates pointed directly at me. 

My mother was aghast. He gave no more details. He just told our parents to lock us down, and to get out of town if we had the means. ‘Think of it like a short vacation,’ I think were the words he used. Then he sent us home. 

None of us went back to school that day.

It didn’t matter, because about an hour later the students at South Park High were informed that the day had been cut in half and they were going home. About an hour after that, word started to spread that there would be a county-wide mandatory curfew for anyone under 18.

It was about another hour after that that I heard something tapping at my window.

I had been staring at my bedroom ceiling listening to the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs album, just rotting in bed. I hopped up and struggled to open the misshapen window. Once I had it up I saw the guys standing below me. Stan waved, Kenny grinned and dropped a handful of pebbles to the ground, Eric gave me a dismissive nod and Kyle had his back to the house.

I hung half way out the window so I could talk to them without my mother hearing, “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t hear?” Stan blinked as he looked up at me, “They canceled school,”

“The real question is what’re you still doing up there?” Kenny asked.

“You didn’t hear?” I playfully mocked Stan’s previous tone, “I’m on lock down,”

Kyle turned around and looked up at me. I think my heart skipped a beat as he stepped towards my window. I had an instant fantasy in my head of him climbing up the trellis.

“Do they think you’re in danger?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I glanced away from him as I sheepishly admitted the truth, “Apparently they found some creepy shrine to me or something,”

The guys all exchanged a series of looks. I thought I caught most of it, but honestly a lot of their short-hand still went over my head. 

Kyle frowned at Kenny. Kenny shook his head and then looked up at me, “When’s your mom leaving?”

“Twenty minutes give or take,” I shrugged, “Assuming she doesn’t catch you guys out here,”

Stan nodded. Kenny saluted. Kyle turned back around and Eric followed suit. I’d never seen those two so in sync. 

What a weird fuckin’ day.

It was about to get a lot weirder.

[thefallennightmare]

oh my god i can't hear that shit anymore these god damn white knights trying to "protect" Noah. That man is 28 years old, he spits on stage, says things like "fucking look at me" -- "is it too tight is that it?" etc i promise he doesn't care about fanfiction at all. He left because of weird people leaving stuff on his car and leaking baby pictures and not because people think he's hot or because of fanfiction. I promise he doesn't even look at it and if he IS on tumblr looking at fanfiction then he obviously finds it funny or doesn't mind so who cares he doesn't need some wanna-be protectors 💀

Typically I don’t respond to those hate messages because it’s not worth my time. But the amount of hate I’ve been getting the last couple of days has been ridiculous. I looked at the their profile and saw them using slurs and making fun of mental illness and I knew it wasn’t okay. None of that is okay.

The guys have NEVER talked about fanfiction besides Folio saying they’re aware of it. If any of them come out to say it makes them uncomfortable then I will be one of the first to stop.

I agree with everything you say anon!! People are always putting words into Noah’s mouth in a way they think is protecting him but in the end, it’s just making things worse.

Also IF Noah is on tumblr, I highly doubt he’s spending his time looking at my blog 😂

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART IX

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). fluff. angst. cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: here it goes. happy reading <3

masterlist!

January 26, 2023

Los Angeles, California

The ceiling isn’t even interesting, but it’s better than everything else right now. You’ve spent too many nights staring at the same spot above you, trying not to think, trying not to feel, but the thoughts always come creeping back. Anxiety’s a funny thing—how it picks and chooses moments to make your life its playground, especially when there’s nothing left to distract you.

You think about your depression diagnosis from a year ago. It feels like a dirty word, one that sticks to the inside of your throat whenever you try to talk about it.

Shame has a way of making you feel unworthy, like there’s a crack inside you that everyone can see. And Pedro…well, he was part of that too. Not because he’d judge you; no, you know he wouldn’t. That’s what makes it worse. He’d understand, and you know it. But it was that very understanding, that softness, that made you feel even less deserving of him. It was easier to push him away, tell yourself that he was better off without you, without your darkness looming overhead.

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid. But knowing didn’t make it any easier. For a long time, you felt like shit. The medication and therapy helped, though. You feel better now, mostly. At least enough to move through the days without the weight of the world pressing down on your chest.

On nights like this, when the city outside your window hums with life, you find yourself longing for him. Wanting him with a kind of ache that doesn’t make sense anymore. Not after a year of silence.

Okay, not complete silence.

There were the text messages, the likes, the little online interactions that served as placeholders for the real thing. But the last time you actually heard his voice was on your birthday. He called, and it was brief. Polite. He sounded tired, maybe distant. You’d called him on his birthday, too, but he didn’t pick up. A few hours later, a text: “Sorry! Really busy over here, even on my birthday. Thanks for the birthday wishes. See you soon.”

Except “See you soon” never came. It was nothing more than etiquette.

Sarah came over a few weeks later. You were sitting on your couch, mindlessly flipping through a book, when she dropped the news. “They broke up,” she’d said, leaning against the counter like it wasn’t a bomb that just exploded in your chest. “Pedro and Julia. Months ago.”

Why didn’t he tell me?

That conversation replayed in your head for days. Maybe he hadn’t told you because you weren’t that person for him anymore. The one he turned to when things went wrong. Life just went on without him in it. The strange became familiar, and here you were, on a Saturday night, staring at nothing.

You push off the sofa, grab your phone from the coffee table, and start scrolling through social media. It’s the only thing that takes the edge off, numbing the ache for a little while. But even that was a trap because almost every post you see is about him.

Pedro was everywhere, and you couldn’t escape him.

The world had caught on to how wonderful he was, and now they all wanted a piece of him. The headlines, the photos, the fan posts—everyone seemed to wonder what it would be like to love him, to touch him. The universe was taunting you with his presence, a constant reminder of what you’d had and what you’d lost. Every time you saw his face, you felt a pang of regret, sharp and unforgiving.

February 4, 2023

New York, NY

The invitation had come a week earlier, but not from him. His sister, Lux, had sent the text. “It would be nice if you came,” she’d written, and your heart had swelled in your chest.

“I’ll try,” you’d replied, though you knew as soon as you sent it that you would go. The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to New York, staring out the window, wondering what you were doing. You hadn’t seen him in person in over a year, and you didn’t even know if he wanted to see you. What if time had passed you by? What if everything between you had faded into the background, nothing more than a memory?

The night of the show arrived, and you were a wreck. A bundle of nerves, second-guessing everything. You sat in the audience, people asking for pictures here and there, and you smiled, happily obliging. But when Pedro took the stage, your heart stopped. He was nervous during the monologue, you could tell, but he quickly settled into the rhythm.

His breathing evened out, and he was so…perfect. He talked about his family, about his mother, and you felt the lump in your throat rise when he got emotional. He was always funny in the sketches, but especially when he almost broke character to laugh. You couldn’t stop watching him.

And you hoped—no, you prayed—that maybe he’d see you through the crowd.

When the show ended, people started to disperse, and there he was, surrounded by his family, by friends, all buzzing with pride and excitement. You hung back, watching as Lux tried to get everyone lined up for a photo. “Who’s gonna take it?” someone asked, and you stepped forward before you could think twice.

“I can do it,” you said, and Lux’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh my god, you came!” She rushed over, wrapping her arms around you, and you hugged her back, feeling a sudden warmth in your chest.

Nico and Pedro’s nephews followed, pulling you into their hugs as well. For a moment, it felt like old times, like maybe things hadn’t changed at all. But then Pedro turned, his gaze catching yours, and time stopped.

You stood there, staring at each other, and the world spun and stilled all at once. His eyes lit up, soft and warm, like they always had. He looked like he wanted to say something, but neither of you moved.

Five seconds. Maybe less. But it felt like forever.

You smiled, and so did he, a quiet acknowledgment passing between you. Lux handed you her phone, and you took the picture, watching them all gather together, laughing and chatting. You could feel Pedro’s eyes on you the whole time.

After the photo, he walked over, his eyes locking onto yours again.

“How…what are you…?”

“Your sister invited me,” you replied quickly.

“Of course she did,” he said, glancing back at Lux with a smile.

“Congratulations, you were incredible,” you said, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. “I’m so happy for you.”

He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, like you were the moon and the stars. Your heart raced, and you could feel it thumping against your ribs. He smiled, a half-smile, and his voice softened. “Thank you. I think I butchered a couple of lines, but…"

“No, no,” you insisted, shaking your head. “You were perfect. It was perfect.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, his eyes doing that thing they always did when he was holding something back. But then he cleared his throat, looking flustered. “I have to go get changed and say goodbye to a few people, but come to the afterparty, okay? Oscar and Sarah will be there.”

As if you needed a reason other than him.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to sound casual.

He took a step closer, his big brown eyes fixed on you. “Thank you for being here.”

You smiled, trying to keep your composure. “Always.”

And then he turned and disappeared backstage.

•••

Later, at the afterparty, you felt like a ghost, drifting between conversations. You caught up with Oscar and Sarah, the comfort of their hugs bringing unexpected tears to your eyes. It felt good, to be surrounded by people who loved you unconditionally. But you couldn’t help yourself; you kept looking for Pedro. From across the room, your eyes would meet, and the significance of everything unsaid hung between you.

Twenty minutes passed like that. Stolen glances, quiet tension. Until you saw him slip outside to the rooftop, away from the crowd.

Without thinking, you followed him.

He stood there, looking out over the city, his broad back to you, the skyline of New York glowing in the distance. For a moment, you thought about turning around, about going back inside. But then you stepped forward, standing beside him.

“This city,” you started, “is so beautiful from up here. Makes you forget about all the bad things—like the rats and the traffic.”

He laughed—that booming, wheezing kind of laugh you loved so much—and you smiled.

Pedro smiled at you—that same familiar smile that hadn’t changed in all these years. His eyebrows lifted playfully, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all. But as you looked closer, you saw it—he had changed, and yet the essence of him remained.

His hair was longer now, curling just at the ends in a way that made you want to reach out and touch it. His beard, fuller than before, had streaks of gray decorating his jawline and his hair. The lines around his eyes had deepened, like stories waiting to be told, crinkling when he smiled, as if life had both weathered and softened him.

He turned to look at you. “Hi again.”

“Hi."

“You look good,” he said, the compliment slipping from his lips with ease.

You chuckled softly. “Thanks, so do you, Mr. Popular.”

He clicked his tongue, amused. “What can I say?”

The rooftop was hushed, only the chatter and music from the party drifting up from where you stood. The world below a distant hum, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft glow of green and gold light from the city. The air was cool but not cold, wrapping around you both in a way that felt intimate, protective.

How Deep Is Your Love started playing, and you looked towards the party, a small smile playing on your lips. As if he could read your mind, he chuckled and said, "How fitting. What are the odds?"

For the first time in what felt like forever, you were under Pedro’s gaze—not the chaotic, feverish attention you were used to, with cameras flashing and crowds screaming your name, but something deeper. His attention had always been different. It was quiet, but focused, like a steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you without a word.

For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. The pull between you too strong, a tether stretched thin by years of disconnect but never broken. You felt it—the weight of all that had gone unsaid pressing against your chest. You had to say it. Now, before you lost the courage.

“I was debating whether or not to do this here,” you began, your voice low but steady, “today of all days, but I feel like the right time will never come for us, so I’ll just say it.”

Pedro’s eyes searched yours with anticipation, perhaps fear or hope, watching you with that unwavering focus that made your heart race.

In that moment, you realized, you didn't know where to start.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat. “I disappeared like that, and I know I hurt you. I was... I was dealing with so much, and I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t move. Some days were harder than others, and I felt so ashamed. So lost. So sad.”

The word sad hung between you, fragile yet heavy. You could see it in his face—how your words cut him deeply. His lips parted, and you saw the pain flicker in his eyes, the understanding that only he could offer.

“Baby,” he said, the word tender, rich with affection. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming yet calming all at once. His hand moved to your hair, fingers brushing it aside before resting gently on the side of your head. The touch was so familiar, so comforting, you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of it wash over you.

“No,” Pedro said softly, his voice breaking just a little. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not doing more. For not being there when you needed me. I’m a fucking coward.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. “I pushed you away because I thought… I thought you were happy with her.” Your voice cracked, but you pushed through the pain. “And before that, I pushed you away because I thought you just didn't want me. I figured it was better to let you be.”

He let out a breath, stepping even closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I got with her because I couldn’t escape you,” he confessed, the words raw and full of regret. “You were always there, in my head, in my heart. I thought if I could be with someone else, maybe… maybe I’d forget you, but I couldn’t.”

You felt the tears sting at the back of your eyes. The truth of it, the weight of his words, felt like a key turning in a lock that had long been rusted shut. You wanted to say more, to tell him everything, but before you could, Pedro’s hand slipped to your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

“I was afraid that you'd be the only person I ever actually wanted. And now I'm afraid that my one and only chance at happiness has passed me by.” He whispered, his voice low and intense. “And I…I think about kissing you more than I think about anything else, literally in the world. It’s my go-to thought when my mind has a minute to spare.”

You could barely breathe. The air between you felt charged, electrified by everything he was admitting, by the love you had both buried for so long. “I was so scared,” he continued, his eyes glistening. “So scared of fucking up our friendship, scared of what people might say, and scared of losing you because… I’ve never known what to do with pain, mi amor. All I’ve ever done is hide from it. But I don’t want to do that anymore.”

You reached up, covering his hand with yours.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if your touch was too much, too overwhelming. Then, slowly, he opened them again, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity it made your heart ache. “I was such an idiot,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I thought I could live without you, but the truth is, I’ve never been able to. Not for a single day.”

You smiled, your own tears finally spilling over. “Well, that makes two of us.”

"You're my favorite person to talk to," he said, "even when we're fighting."

There was a beat, a single breath in which the world seemed to pause, and then he kissed you. It wasn’t a tentative kiss, shy, or unsure—it was everything. Every moment, every longing look, every stolen glance over the years poured into this one, perfect moment. His lips were soft but demanding, his hands slipping into your hair as he pulled you closer. You knew people could be watching from afar, but you melted into him, because nothing else mattered right now.

When you finally pulled back, foreheads pressed together, both of you gasping for air like you'd been drowning and only just found the surface. His forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky, and in that moment, you saw it all—the vulnerability, the fear, the anger, and beneath it all, the raw, unrelenting love.

Pedro’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke, “I hate myself for waiting this long.” His hands slid down to your shoulders, gripping them with a desperation that made your heart twist. “I watched you disappear, and I told myself it wasn’t my place. But it was. It always was.”

His eyes bore into yours, deep pools of brown that always saw you, even when you didn’t want to be seen. His hands turned and pushed you slowly to the railing, and you could feel the cold biting into your back even through the thick layers of your jacket.

“I hated myself too,” you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush, messy and imperfect, but true. “I thought about you every day. And I hated myself for it because I couldn’t let go. I tried, God. I tried with everything I had to move on, but it was always you. It was always you, Pedro.”

His lips trembled, and you saw the tears in his eyes—the same tears that were stinging yours. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“We wasted so much time.”

You nodded, your own heart breaking at the realization. All the years you had spent avoiding each other, convincing yourselves it was for the best, when deep down, you knew the truth.

You had been running—both of you—from something that had always been there.

“I know,” you said softly, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the scruff on his jaw. “But we’re here now. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

He nodded, a slow, deliberate movement. “I love you,” he said, the words a soft confession.

You smiled, face wet with tears, your heart finally free of the burden it had carried for so long.

“I know."

a/n: aaaahh finally!!! these idiots got it right it only took like 20 years lol.

an extra final chapter is coming very soon. i had so much fun writing this. i started writing this silly little fic right after a breakup because i was feeling lonely and it was the best way for me to not feel like that sooo i wanted to thank everyone who read, liked, reblogged or commented, it means the world to me that someone else enjoys something that takes so much of my time. love you all so much!!!

[mymanythoughtslive]

It would be funny if xie lian had a spy Network in the mortal realm only he is completely oblivious to the fact it is a spy network and calls is his many acquaintances and friends he talks to after he helped then or they helped him so imagine him getting random notes or messages from random strangers or beggars or him turning to a random beggar and asking something crazy or whatever for a mission and in 1-3 days having all of the needed knowledge for it

It would just freak everyone out it would be hilarious because you would just have a incredibly better knowledge network than anyone in heaven and ghost realm or imagine this hundreds of years prior or more this happening, and it leading up to having an entire sect made of spy network beggars being created just for him and and helping out the common people only everyone doesn’t know about it, except the people in the sect and him being considered a honored God or elder to them and their worship being the main reason he ascended for the third time only no one really knows 

[royalarchivist]

It's been six months since Forever called Phil "Philza senpai" and got a (virtual) kiss.

[hydrachea]

I think if Blade ever does send a text directly it should be a single sentence of the most basic kind, and then it never happens again.

[taegularities]

some men are textbook villains fr

[nomairuins]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[triglycercule]

This is a question related to the mtt hobbies answer that you wrote, the murder trio go around the multiverse and live in a place together, then what happend to horrortale au and horrortale papyrus? If the murder trio got to meet horrortale papyrus how would it go? (The meeting propably wouldnt end well with more canon mtt haha)

aaaaa i dont think it through to be honest when i talk about that concept. they just do. maybe horrortale's issues are already solved and aliza's already gone through horrortale and somehow fixed the hellhole (ALIZA MY GOAT PLEASE SAVE HORRORTALE I DON'T CARE IF IT TAKES 10 YEARS‼️‼️‼️) by the time that horror somehow meets dust and killer (since i dont see a feasible way that horrortale could be fixed outside of aliza or outside intervention.) or maybe he just visits from time to time. and by time to time i mean probably quarterly weekly. idk sorry i cant be bothered to think about it,,, they just do. anyways bad answer i KNOW I KNOW put the tomatoes down pls PLS

if the mtt met horror paps? horror would obviously do his little bantering thing with paps (he's probably revealing every single one of horror's embarrassing moments to them as they speak and horror's desperately trying to get him to shut up because he can tell. dust and killer are piiiiiiissed.) dust is probably like eerily calm during the whole thing. he manages to hold up a conversation pretty well with horror paps and gets along with him good enough without mentioning that theres a ghost version of him screaming asking why dust is ignoring phantom paps. meanwhile killer is mostly silent during it too probably only responding when he's spoken too. i mean like killer already doesn't like being around papyruses (papyri? papyri is so shitty i dont like it we will be saying papyruses) and then seeing horror's papyrus??? what the FUCK happened to horror paps??? sunken in eyes and cracks in his bones and those jagged teeth AND THEN THE FUCKING CROOKED SPAGHETTI????

needless to say once horror paps is gone all of them get into a biiiiig fight. dust drops the cool act because he's not gonna lose his cool around a papyrus but also he's absolutely fuming. he can tell that the changes that phantom papyrus has gone through have something to do with horror with the way that he's acting. killer is also incredibly irritated too (surpringly. being around papyruses just gets him like that) and seeing papyrus like that just gets him upset and angry. like wtf horror did you even TRY with keeping your papyrus safe??? at least killer reset his au and now papyrus is living an unharmed life (with minor concerns about killer's whereabouts but he'll ignore that for now) but horror paps looks so fucked up that there is no WAY that horror tried to prevent him from getting to that point

obviously they fight and many many many many MANY words are said about eachother's characters and the state they left their respective papyruses in. horror knows damn well that horrortale paps's state is because of him but he regretted telling paps to eat humans and neither dust nor killer knew the struggle of living with that guilt and how much he regrets it so they dont get to drag him for not trying hard enough to keep papyrus safe. dust is definitely getting some low blows here and there (but he's getting fucking assisted by phantom paps so he's got some of the deepest hitting insults) and he's definitely getting ganged up on for killing his papyrus and like. not even attempting to leave him alive in someway shape and form aside from the absolute insult that is phantom paps. surprisingly killer is winning this fight because he left his papyrus in a relatively good state. even though he's in a more emotional state than he normally is and would've absolutely OBLITERATED dust and horror in the fight in stage 2 he's actually doing pretty well. probably because hororr and dust dont really have anything to drag him on. they might bring up how something new papyrus is searching for killer but like,,,, is that really that bad compared to how they left their papyruses

[l0v3c0r3e]

i need opinions on the barbie movie from the ppl who have seen it as i really want to love and understand this movie more but i can't

[ladiesoftheages]

Someone remind me sometime to post my essay about the way people talk about Henry VIII

[tardis--dreams]

I actually realized i hate work. Won't be putting any effort into this anymore ♡

[bmpmp3]

the really beautiful landscape/skyscape animation in makoto shinkai's works tends to be the big thing i see focused on and that is understandable and deserved like the weather and lighting effects are unREAL but i do think we should also appreciate how absolute insane the plotlines of his original movies get. at least two movies with in universe catastrophes with major ecological implications. the guns and explosions. theres that one movie i havent seen yet with the guy who turns into a chair (?)

[yeonban]

There was a "kill yourself" version of this meme that Tobias ALSO deeply resonated with but we're keeping it nice For Once ❤️

[thefloorisbalaclava]

..

[skunkg1rll]

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