#the stress of everything gets to him a bit

[stormgardenscurse]

pillow stacks

Summary: Sleeping over with them! Ace’s is longer in honour of his birthday!

Characters: Ace, Vil, Azul, Charming Stranger (that new Gojo-guy in the next halloween event)

Ace

The idea begins when Ace realises how quiet Ramshackle Dorm is at night. Sure, you say that you’re used to it and it’s not a big deal, but a part of Ace feels bad for not realising that no matter how he and Deuce may try to liven up your daily life, you still are, first and foremost, a student displaced in another world.

And with that comes a certain sense of loneliness that Ace can’t stop thinking about. At this point, it’s less pity that he feels for you and more of a desire to hang out with you after your usual hours. He wants you to feel like you have a home in Twisted Wonderland, too. And, well… He’d like to include you in his, by letting you into his personal world, if he has the chance.

…Which is why you’re here now! Doing typical things like a movie marathon, nail painting, and snacking on cup noodles. Ace claims that everyone just needs some TLC once in a while (including him, though you can’t imagine what’s stressing him out), so he’ll even let you do his nails (if you do a bad job Ace will have his revenge by doing your makeup after).

But Ace has always been a best friend who involves you in everything, so the activities up until now haven’t really struck either of you with a sense of ‘something more’ yet. That is, until you guys were fighting over the makeup palette and it stains your shirt - you didn’t bring a spare, so it was left to Ace to give you one of his instead.

That was the moment Ace realised that not only was he dressing you up, but he was doing so in his clothes; just what kind of crazy scenario is that?!

Suffice to say, he couldn’t help but stare as he saw the way one of his baggier shirts looked on your frame. It had to be one of his sleepwears too, which most people wouldn’t see him in - which only makes his thoughts race even further, knowing that this was a side of you that only he would be privy to. And he’d very much keep it like that. 

(The next day, Ace just borrows you one of his uniform’s dress-shirts so that you can escape the dorm without looking too suspicious. You get caught regardless because he’d forgotten to retrieve one of his hair pins from you, in the design of a bright red cherry.)

Vil

It’s not often that you get to spend a quiet evening with Vil (or simply a quiet, extended amount of time at all, considering how busy the both of you are). So to summarise the sleepover as therapeutic wouldn’t be too far off.

Vil wastes no time in beginning an elaborate skincare routine, and the two of you watch movies while waiting for your face masks to dry. 

You even manage to convince Vil to try one of your favourite games. If it’s for two-players, you’ll quickly get engrossed and experience a bit of drama (just typical, childish arguments about how one of you keep falling off the platforms). If it’s a visual novel or otome type of thing, you finally have the chance to witness what Vil Schoenheit, real-life celebrity and crush of thousands, has to say about romancing a 2D fictional man who is pretty, by the game’s standards, and critique how the storyline goes. 

Spoiler: he thinks you just decided to torture him for your entertainment, specifically because you chose an otome where the male leads were all pigeons. 

In the case where you played a normal two-player game, Vil will ultimately try and fail to forget about it so that he doesn’t get addicted/distracted by the game in the next few days, but of course, you soon get asked when you’ll next be free to play. He needs to get the ending over with so that he can move on with his life.

Your main souvenir from the sleepover is a new phone wallpaper — which Vil swapped for you when you were still setting up the game on your laptop. It’s a selfie with the two of you together, a far-cry from the usual celebrity and prefect personas you wear in everyday life.

Azul

No one can fathom how you managed to convince Azul to do this. Even with the pretence of this being a study-sleepover, he was generally much too self conscious about how he’s presented to let people witness him unguarded — let alone sleepwear.

Azul’s stuck; he can’t wear anything too tight fitting or hugging his silhouette because he knows he’ll just be too busy stealing glances, checking to see your reaction and overthinking about whether it’s a good one or not. So, instead, Azul wears something baggier (very unlike him), which also covers all his skin.

His plan works pretty well, up until the point where you almost roll off the bed by accident, and while catching you, Azul realises - ears red and face following - that you were leaning your entire weight on him. And your hands are right on his abs.

It’s almost phantom-like how fast the two of you dart away, trying to salvage your dignities. You’re left flustered because his muscles felt unexpectedly defined, while Azul is considering if he should make a contract with you and try to confiscate your memories of the past minute.

The paper that you both were working on is submitted successfully the next day, but Professor Trein notices an embarrassing spelling error on your names.

Just what could’ve caused this kind of mistake anyways? Well… it may have to do with your innocent question of how your names would be written together if you had the same surname instead. 

Just yours ‘and Azul Ashengrotto’ together in one line, or separately as you ‘Ashengrotto and Azul Ashengrotto’? Wouldn’t that sound redundant?

Azul had quite enough of your questions after that, scribbling your names and shutting the folder like his life depended on it. He’d forgotten to include your surname, making it look like the former hypothetical above.

Charming Stranger (Pumpkin King, Gojo twst, etc)

For a second, you thought you’d woken up in yet another coffin like the one that brought you to Twisted Wonderland. But you were soon proven wrong as someone cleared their throat next to you, causing you to jump and hit your head against the coffin door in your alarm.

It’s more spacious than you realise, accommodating a man beside you without it feeling too crushed. But judging by the lack of panic on your part about how claustrophobic it is, you assume that this was some sort of odd dream.

An odd dream with a charming-looking stranger. Perhaps you wouldn’t want to wake up just yet.

The stranger welcomes you to his humble abode, mentioning that it’s the first time that anyone has entered here other than himself. That ought to make you quite special, seeing as he doesn’t even feel irritated by the lack of space. Are you perhaps a ghost seeking some warmth? He regrets to inform you that his vessel is equally as cold as the ‘bed’ around you.

He’s also quite enamoured by your nickname for him. ‘It makes it sound like we’re in a romantic tale~ If you do not mind dancing in a graveyard of wilted flowers, then I would be more than happy to share a never-ending waltz with you.’

You bat off his comments, saying you probably won’t meet again after this - only to be taken aback by his smile.

Confident, knowing, and stretched as wide as a jack-o-lantern’s mouth. For a second it finally hits you that he is a type of powerful being, and that if he wanted to, may gain a permanent hold on your soul.

Then, the alarm flees your veins as his expression relaxes, taking your hand to place a parting kiss on your knuckles. Until you meet again…

Like how most dreams evade memory, you’ve already forgotten about this encounter the next time you see this man. His eyes land on you within he crowd of students at the college, and seems delighted that you’re there.

A wink, a finger to his lips. Just wait a little longer, and you can share that waltz he promised you atop his bed.

[darnell-la]

can i request older logan with reader who’s a crybaby… reader who cries over little things and older logan who can’t help but get hard and coddle her. wiping away tears during sex!!!

note: older Logan wouldn’t take y/n’s crying session seriously. Usually, they’d all be because of work, something he’s told her a thousand times he didn’t want her to do, so a part of him didn’t care. Instead, he loved how much she cried, taking advantage of it whenever he could.

———

“How was work today, Bub?” Logan asked, eyes glued to the newspaper he had picked up in front of the door earlier this morning. Y/n hadn’t said anything. She tried thinking of what exactly she should say, but he had spoken first.

“Bub? What up?” Logan asked, eyes looking over his reading glasses as she slipped off her shoes and hung her things up. “I-I — You know,” y/n said, but Logan in fact did not know.

“I know what?” He asked, setting his paper aside as he felt something wrong with her. “Work today — It was just exhausting,” she said as she went into the kitchen to grab a glass of any alcohol Logan bought for himself, and she drank occasionally.

“What happened?” Logan asked as she got up, listening closely to her story of the day. The more she talked, the more cracks he heard in her house.

“A-And the boss said maybe he’d fire me if I kept snapping back at the customers, but they always start it! Every day, it’s the same s-shit!”

“Baby, baby,” Logan said as he came up behind the young lady before she could pick up the glass she had just filled. “Don’t need you drinkin’ your problems away. It ain’t good for you,”

“I know, but — I just need something, Logan. This is so stressful,” she said as he turned her around to take a look at her face, and like he knew it, she was crying. Eyes glossy and puffy as always.

“Baby,” Logan tilted his head with a sigh, upset that she’s always stressed and taking in everything people say to her. He wished she could just move on with life, and stay happy with a big smile.

“Look at me, Bub,” Logan said as he lifted her head after she tried turning her head. “You need to relax — Stop letting these people get to your head,” Logan said as he wiped her tears.

“I know, but-“ y/n tried saying, but the man shushed her. “Don’t speak, Bub, just relax. And no drinking either,” Logan said as he moved the glass she filled to the side.

“You’re too pretty to be cryin’ all the time, baby,” Logan said as his faves nuzzled hers. “I-It’s just so much,” y/n cried as his hands rubbed her body, trying to calm her down a bit.

“I know, baby, and what did I tell you? Told you I’d take that easy lumberjack job, right? Get us double what an average human man could make workin’ for ‘em and put that money towards our cabin,” Logan reminded her.

“Baby, I don’t want you to work though,” y/n said as his hands tracked up her shirt. “And why can’t I? I’m the man, and you’re my pretty girl. I’m tired of being a housewife. That’s your job, or at least let me do it all. You can relax the rest of your pretty life,” Logan said in the crook of her neck.

“You’re gonna take my offer, bub. Ian askin,” Logan’s hand dug into her jeans to rub at her cunt until she squealed. “I-I don’t know,” she still cried, upset at herself for being this sensitive and also hit by the instant pleasure Logan was giving her.

“What did I say, baby? This ain’t askin,” Logan said before he ripped y/n’s jeans off of her. She gasped as he picked her up and placed her on the counter, spreading her legs as he pulled himself out of his jeans.

“You should be waitin’ at home for him to come back and give it up. Not the other way around, baby,”

Logan pushed into the weeping girl, making her hands fly up to grip shi shoulder. “Logan,” y/n sobbed, feeling his cock run through her walls in all of the right ways. He always made her forget why she cried in the first place.

“Ssh, baby — Just enjoy me. Cunts beggin’ for it,” Logan said as he cupped her face, wiping all of the tears that streamed down her face. “Mhm hmm,” he groaned as his free arm hooked under one of her legs to get a good new angle to pound her in.

“L-Lo,” y/n cried out, loving the way his body smacked against hers. “That’s it, baby — Let it all out,” Logan pulled her into his body, pounding so hard, that the countertop began shifting.

“Cry on my cock, baby — Look so good like this. So fuckin’ good,” Logan couldn’t lie as his eyes could barely stay open and tears still streamed from them. He was Jauch a crybaby, but his crybaby.

[rinnstars]

all sides of you!

the five love languages rin shows to you

itoshi rin x reader: fluff, hcs/drabble, not proofread, likes n reblogs are appreciated <3

words of affirmation

- at the beginning, i think hes a lot more averse to saying romantic stuff so its more of in a long term/after months of dating

- mainly leaves sticky notes/passes notes during class/at home with what he wants to say ar rhe beginning

- after a while tho, he’ll try to at least praise you/compliment you irl then slowly tell you he loves you (altho rarely at the beginning)

- has a bunch of scribbled notes he never passed to you all filled with confessions/ things he wants to say that he eventually says at the back of his closet in a box (because he thinks its sentimental)

- a lot better at expressing his feelings and can say them without freaking out internally or stuttering before giving up and calling you a mean nickname to neutralise the compliment

- believes in a speak not tell but he knows communication is key so he’ll try his best so bear with him

- slowburn moment for this but its 100% worth it when he comes home from competition and all he can say is repeatedly whisper i love u into your ear as he pulls you closer into his embrace

physical touch

- again, at first hes a bit touch averse / awkward with hugs/kisses but after a while of dating..

- 100% super clingy esp after coming back from competition/bllk : his hands have to be somewhere on your skin, doesnt matter where hes not picky

- has to sleep with you, hugging you like youre his plushie (drools a little too btw)

- links pinky when you guys walk together doeznt matter where “you’ll get lost” excuse except his entire face goes pink at the touch of your hands

- really likes kissing your neck, he thinks its rlly cute when he can hear you & esp if it leaves a mark :p

- has piggy-backed you before even when youre not lying about your shoes hurting or being tired to be carried by him

- enjoys being babied ngl like he loves it sm when you pepper his face with kisses while he just lies there or when you comb his hair with your fingers: he feels like hes in heaven esp after stressful days

quality time

- tries to see you everyday : either through school/going to yours/his house, dates, or even facetime call

- calls you every night when hes overseas btw and during breaks he’ll try to text you back n reply to your messages

- the type to make up excuses just to hang out with you like “oh i need to get new shoes, come with me” even though he has 2038839 different pairs and then have to huy another one because he cant be caught (you can tell)

- wld go on “study” dates where he just stares at you 3/4 of rhe time and actually doesnt finish any of his “assignments”

- has gone on hangouts where both of you just chill in silence n rlly likes it because theres no pressure to do anything and its kind of calming/relaxing esp after having to deal with teammates n whatnot during work

- wld watch you play games/do anything while he sits beside you, just enjoying your company even if he craves a little more but thats alright by him

acts of service

- lowkey such an act of service guy like even pre-relationship even if he makes excuses for him bc hes trying to be #idgaf

- the type to rush to your home with meds/food/everything if you text him youre sick after missing school

- i feel like. he just kind of enjoys the peacefulness of like cleaning and would do it whenever hes stressed (ignoring the loud music he listens to)

- would bring your necessities sometimes, and ends up at some point lending a hairtie to reo (he has a pack of hair ties bought for you at all times)

- anytime he goes out to get food/on the way home, he’ll always get a portion of what youd like just in case, and doeznt mind just eating it as leftover if you dont want it

- has a notepad on his phone on your favourite orders (drinks, meals, desserts etc)

- if youre forgetful, he’ll text you to remind you : whether that be to attend events/eat lunch at proper times/buy something

- would go back to the store if he didn’t buy what you wanted/if you wanted something else without any hesitation as long as it makes you smile even if he doesn’t admit it

- would learn how to take pictures for you on his own accord : you didn’t even realise until one day you pass him your digicam and suddenly he was an expert photographer compared to just months ago when. you started dating where his hand was blocking the camera

giving gifts

- has a matching necklace with you at all times and its his lucky charm and he’ll 100% kiss it before a game / when he wins the game

- shared wishlist on online stores except he stalks through yours and buys them for you randomly to surprise you

- if you have something spoiled/doesnt work as well, doesnt matter if its a home appliance/jeans that don’t fit etc, he’ll buy one for you without any hesitation when he goes out/on his phone

- gets you trinkets/keychains/stuff that reminds him of you including any sanrio/anime/designs you like / even your favourite food ie. chocolates/candies/chips from different countries he goes to for matches

- would notice if you wore his gifts or not and try to buy more things that you like more ie. if you like silver accessories more, he’ll buy more of those

- even during school days, he would 100% blow his money on arcades if you like to play claw machine/those rhythms games and watch you play and sometimes if you don’t get it, he’ll try to get them after his football training for you and pass it to you as nonchalantly as you can the next day

- always buys matching things: that bracelet he bought you? yup he has an exact pair in his drawers, feels its more meaningful and intimate

- if you ever ask for anything, just know he’s willing to give you that and the whole world and even the whole galaxy

-

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑─𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊

₊⊹⁀➴ : Chris had been filming all day with Matt and Nick, and the constant pressure to get everything perfect was wearing him down. His frustration simmered, barely held in check, until it felt like a weight pressing on his chest. When Y/N, sensing his stress, clung to him for comfort, Chris snapped. He couldn’t help but lash out, his words sharp and unkind.

⭑.ᐟ : AGNST, cursing, happy ending

𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐋𝟔𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋

˚⊱🪄⊰˚ : 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. I was already in the living room when he entered, and I immediately noticed the tension radiating off of him. Without a word, Chris stalked straight towards the couch, dropping onto it with an air of weary resignation. The muscles in his shoulders were visibly taunt, his jaw clenched tight.

I moved silently to the side of the couch, watching him curiously. He had been filming with Matt and Nick all day long, and I knew that the constant pressure to perform perfectly had been taking its toll on him. Chris fidgeted restlessly, unable to find a comfortable position. His eyes were dull and distant, his mind clearly elsewhere.

I couldn't stand to see him like this, so I carefully perched next to him on the couch. At my movement, he glanced in my direction, his expression guarded. I tentatively placed a comforting hand on his arm, hoping to offer some small measure of solace.

I gingerly slid my arms around him, trying to pull him into a hug. Before I could even speak, he bristled, pushing me away with a harshness that stung. “Can you give me some goddamn space?!” he snapped, his voice crackling with barely contained frustration.

Chris surged to his feet, his movements jerky and agitated. He practically wrenched himself away from me, putting a few paces between us. “God, Y/N, you're so fucking clingy!” he hissed, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. “Just give me a fucking minute to breathe!”

I stumbled back, shocked and hurt by his words. Chris had never acted like this before, even when he was stressed out. “What the hell is your problem?” I countered, my voice rising.

Chris let out a ragged sigh, running a hand over his face. “You’re my problem, bro,” he grumbled, his voice tense. “I can't breathe for a god damn minute before you're, like, clinging onto me.”

I retorted, my voice tinged with hurt and defensiveness. “I was just trying to comfort you!” I exclaimed, my words tumbling out in a rush. “I saw how stressed you looked when you walked up the stairs, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay!”

Chris threw up his hands in frustration. “Well, if you saw that I looked stressed, then you should know I'm not okay!” he shot back, his voice rising with irritation. The muscles in his jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth, bristling under the weight of his frustration.

Chris clenched his fists, his patience fraying as he snapped back. “God, you're so fucking annoying, Y/N!” he bit out, his voice taut with irritation. He raked a hand through his hair again, the movements jerky and agitated. It was clear that he was reaching the breaking point, his usual calm demeanor cracking under the strain of his frustration and stress.

I recoiled, stung by his words. It wasn't like Chris to be so cruel, and I struggled to process his sudden shift in demeanor. “I'm trying to help,” I protested, my voice small and hurt. “You don't have to treat me like an inconvenience just because you're stressed.”

Chris rolled his eyes and turned away, striding down the stairs to his room without a backward glance. I huffed in irritation, chasing after him, determined to not let him brush off the argument so easily. “Don't roll your eyes at me, Chris!” I snapped, my voice rising as I followed him to his room. “You started this argument, not me!”

Chris retorted, his voice growing heated as we entered his room. “It wouldn't have started if you had just given me some space!” He stormed across the room to his bed, flopping down onto the mattress with a frustrated huff.

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration mounting. “Well, you didn't have to be so clingy and annoying!” he shot back, his words sharp. “You could've given me space without having to be up in my face all the time! You're always hovering, always there, and it's suffocating!”

Chris continued, his voice strained with irritation. “You always treat me like a damn baby! It's so annoying, constantly fussing over me and trying to pamper me. I'm not some fragile doll, goddamnit! I can handle my own problems without you always being there, smothering me!”

I stood my ground, my own irritation bubbling up to match his. “I just want to help you!” I protested, my voice rising in pitch. “I care about you, Chris! And it's not pampering, it's just how I show that I care!”

Chris lunged to his feet, his irritation flaring into outright anger. “I don't need your fucking help! alright?!” he bellowed, his shoulders taut and trembling with the force of his words. “I don't need you constantly hovering over me, like I can't handle my own problems. I'm a grown man, not some pathetic child who needs your constant attention!”

I reeled back, shocked at the harshness in his voice and the coldness in his eyes. I had known Chris for a long time, and I had never seen him so hostile. “You don't have to be such a dick about it!” I snapped back, my voice shaking with hurt. “I'm just trying to be there for you, Chris! Is that so wrong?”

Chris's voice rose to a near screech, his anger reaching a boiling point. “Just leave me alone for once! Leave, goddamnit!” he shouted, gesturing wildly towards the door. “I don't need you here, I don't want you here! Can't you just take a hint and leave me the hell alone?!”

Chris continued to rant, his words becoming more and more unhinged with each passing second. “I'm sick and tired of your constant clinginess and your suffocating presence! You're like a goddamn parasite, never letting me have a moment to myself!”

He paced the room, his movements jerky and agitated. “I can't even think straight with you around, constantly bugging me, asking how I'm feeling. Can't you see that I just need some space?!”

My expression dropped into a sad one, my eyebrows furrowing in sorrow. “You don't mean that, Chris,” I said, my voice soft and pleading. “I know you're just frustrated and stressed out right now, but you don't have to lash out at me like this. I care about you, and all I want to do is help.”

I slowly approached him, my expression still one of hurt and sadness. But Chris recoiled, backing away from me as if my presence repulsed him. “Please, just leave,” he hissed, his voice cold and distant. “Get out of my room. I don't want you here.”

I snapped, my patience finally breaking as my emotions spilled over. “You're such a dick!” I shouted, my voice cracking with anger and hurt.

Chris fired back immediately, his own defenses rising in response. “Well your mouth is always full of it!”

I'd had enough. “Fuck you!” I retorted, my voice filled with a mixture of hurt and anger. I walked over to his green couch and grabbed my dirty clothes and shoved them in my bag. Chris let out a heavy sigh as he sat on his bed, his frustration beginning to subside. As he watched me pack my things, a wave of regret washed over him. He stood up from the bed, his voice soft and pleading. "Y/N, don't pack your things, please. I'm sorry," he said, his gaze fixed on my back.

Chris let out a heavy sigh as he sat on his bed, his frustration beginning to subside. As he watched me pack my things, a wave of regret washed over him. He stood up from the bed, his voice soft and pleading. “Y/N, don't pack your things, please. I'm sorry,” he said, his gaze fixed on my back.

I ignored his apology, too hurt and angry to forgive him so easily. “You told me to leave you alone,” I muttered, my voice cold and distant. “So I'm packing my shit and going home like you wanted me to.”

I continued to gather my things, jamming clothes and necessities into a small bag. I refused to look at him, my heart still smarting from his harsh words.

Chris' expression grew more desperate, his voice thick with regret. “Y/N, I'm sorry,” he pleaded, stepping towards me. “I didn't mean any of this. I didn't mean anything I said, please. I was just frustrated and stressed, and I took it out on you, and I shouldn’t have. Please, don't go.”

I maintained my cold demeanor, brushing past him without a glance. I headed into his bathroom, my thoughts racing in anger. I grabbed my toiletries and shoved them into my bag as well, determined to leave as quickly as possible.

Chris called out desperately as I walked past him again. He reached out and grabbed my wrist gently, trying to get me to stop. “Y/N,” he said, his voice pleading.

I refused to look at him, my heart stinging with hurt. “Let go,” I bit out, trying to pull my wrist free from his gentle grip. “I'm trying to leave.”

His voice grew softer, his tone pleading. “Y/N, look at me.” I continued to avoid his gaze, my emotions warring within me. “Please,” he repeated, gently grabbing my chin to coax me to look at him. “Baby, please.”

Reluctantly, I lifted my eyes to meet his gaze. The pain in his expression mirrored the ache in my own heart. His grip on my chin was gentle, yet firm, as if he was scared to let go, afraid I would slip away from him.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn't mean anything I said. I was just frustrated and stressed, and I took it out on you. I didn't mean any of it. I don't want you to leave, I want you here with me. I need you here. Please, stay. I'm sorry.”

Chris's expression softened as he spoke, his voice laced with regret and vulnerability. “It's not fair for me to say those things to you when you've helped me through so much,” he murmured, his eyes searching mine. “You've been there for me during my toughest times, and I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. You didn't deserve it.”

Chris's voice grew softer, his tone laced with a mixture of remorse and affection. “You're not any of the things I said, baby,” he murmured. “I enjoy having you cling onto me, and I really enjoy how you baby me. I enjoy it so damn much. God, I'm so sorry, Y/N. Baby, I'm sorry.”

Chris gently cradled my face in his hands, his touch gentle yet tremulous. His eyes flicked from one of mine to the other, his gaze brimming with vulnerability “Please, stay with me,” he pleaded, his voice catching on the words as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

“I can’t bear the thought of you leaving, of you walking out that door,” he continued, his voice quivering slightly. “I need you here, Y/N. I want you here. I don’t know what I’d do if you left.”

Chris drew a shuddering breath, the intensity of his pleading almost palpable. “I promise I won’t snap like that again. I’ll talk to you when I’m stressed, I’ll talk to you when I’m frustrated—”

I gently brought my hands to his face, tenderly wiping away his tears. “Baby, it's fine,” I reassured him, my voice soft and understanding. “I know filming has been hard on you, but just talk to me, okay? We don't have to talk if you don't want to; we can just enjoy the silence and the comfort of each other's presence. We'll get through this together, because I'm here for you.”

Chris's expression quivered, his eyes welling with emotions. He leaned into my touch, his own hands still gripping my wrists gently. “You're too good to me,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I don't deserve you. I was such a dick.”

I shook my head, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “You do deserve me,” I said, my own voice wavering slightly. “And you deserve happiness. We're in this together, remember? The good times and the bad. I'm not going anywhere, okay?”

Chris's shoulders sagged, as if a weight had been lifted. He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against mine. “Okay” he whispered hoarsly.

I gazed into his eyes, a soft smile playing at the corners of my lips. Then, I closed the distance between us, pulling his face to mine and initiating a soft, gentle kiss. Our lips met in a sweet and tender embrace, the passion between us fueled by a mixture of love and relief.

The kiss was unhurried and sincere, filled with unspoken apologies and promises. We held each other close, our bodies pressed together as the world around us faded into the background. In that moment, it was just us, our connection, and the silent vow to work through our issues together.

Chris and I reluctantly parted, our lips separating just as Nick's voice interrupted us. Chris glanced toward the door, where Nick stood, a playful grin on his face and bags of food in his hands. “Sorry to interrupt,” Nick chuckled, holding up the bags. “but we got food.”

I let out a soft chuckle at the sight of Nick and Matt making their way upstairs from the garage. I look at Chris, my expression filled with a mixture of love and determination. I take his hand in mine and run my fingers through his hair. “Let's go eat and forget about what happened,” I murmur, my voice soft yet firm.

Chris locks eyes with me, his expression softening as he nods in agreement. I lean in and give him a quick peck on the lips, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Come on,” I say, tugging gently on his hand. “I'm starving.”

We slowly make our way upstairs towards the kitchen, the earlier tension between us replaced by a comfortable quietness. Our hands stay intertwined, and every so often, I give his hand a comforting squeeze, silently reassuring him that I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.

[kurosagi-h8r]

My headcanon on the ghouls in bed 🔞

Idk if anyone talked abt this already but as always you can put them in any place, it's just how i imagined them in my head. This is for funsies ☆

Detailed explanation below. Minor DNI!

Jin would almost say no to bottoming unless he's too lazy and you're too needy. But i feel like he's too prideful to go that way so he'll probably force you to nap with him instead. It's likely that you'd wake up to him taking the initiative first. "Didn't you ask for it?" And he doesn't care if you're still in the mood or not. He is now and it's your responsibility too.

TOHMA SKDJFHSKHD definitely a service top when you're good but becomes a sadist when you deserve to be punished. Either way he enjoys playing both roles and is good at them.

I feel like Luca is one of the best when it comes to aftercare. From the beginning to the end he priorities your need above his and will switch depending on your preference. Guy probably takes it like a study when it comes to please you– excited to learn about your body and all.

Kaito is a pathetic bottom. A perfect subject for mindbreaking. Will cry upon first orgasm and a whimpering mess if you're not stopping (yay overstimulation). So much thank you and sorry despite forgetting his name during the whole thing.

To me Alan is more of a service top but would bottom at first bcs Alan is Alan– he would need guidance on what you like and what you don't like and also reassurance that you're enjoying everything. A submissive top, perhaps. The type to put your needs above his. Probably would take too long fingering you bcs he's afraid he wouldn't fit.

Leo mayyyybee secretly wants to film you going down on him. Will act all sadist at first but really he just wants to see how much it'd take to trigger you. If you give in and be submissive he'd lose interest in an instant because you're too easy. I mean come on do you actually believe people who like spicy food is not into pain? If you want him so bad then take him. The fact that he might resist at first shouldn't be an obstacle to you. He's a brat bottom at its finest.

Sho is pretty simple i guess. Top leaning and would take some convincing to let you overpower him. He'd secretly be addicted to it after the first time but it's because you look hot doing it.

Depending on how his day went Haru would either top the entire session or bottom. A service top most days but would say no to a blowjob or handjob when he has no energy left. I hc him being softer with it when he's drunk bc when the two of you do it sober he'd tease you here and there. But at the same time Haru is still Haru, he has some pent up stress and could let it out through you. So please push him as hard as you can– slap the shit out of him if you need to when it gets uncomfortable.

Should I explain about Towa 😩? He seems sweet at first but the second you show no signs of going along with his tune... also he's probably into roleplay. "Let’s reenact those love stories you've told me before, Dandelion ♡~ You'll say yes, won't you?"

Ren would absolutely refuse being the bottom. Even if he's positioned under you his hands would be on your hips controlling all of your movements. Surprisingly can hold himself being cockwarmed– gotta push rank a bit if he doesn't want to get kicked out of the guild. A bit of a masochist, would force you to be quiet as he destroy you from the inside despite knowing that's what gets you being too loud. Pretending to bottom only to tease you and make you realize how pathetic your attempts were.

Taiga is Taiga.

Romeo is meticulous with everything but everything has to be romantic and worth his while. He's secretly kinky and needs to have all the power on his hand but if you play your cards right, you might just see that side of him that he will never show anyone else. Hot top, pretty bottom.

It's tempting to put Ed in each square. Who knows he's probably the creator of this top switch bottom thingy MAYBE HE INVENTED S3X IDK. Like, he's probably had his fair share of doing everything in the bed. Want him to top? He'd love to! Just surrender your whole being and let him become your God. Want him bottom? Sure. Just be careful and don't get too rough, his joints can only take so much (lol). Either way things will likely be memorable with him.

Ritsu is a top if it's for duty and bottom if you provoke him enough. Bully him; call him a momma's boy and he'll lose his mind soon enough. He would take some time to tame but it won’t be an issue if you like the process.

I imagine even when stripping Subaru would want you to look away and when it's your turn he would be too bashful to look at you. Keeping eye contact is important for him, let him know that he is the center of your world and you'll gladly accept him with open arms. Yes, he couldn’t help but look away everytime, but as long as you distract him with your lips on his he'll ease up bit by bit. He'd probably feel bad not taking the lead but his skill lies on the aftercare (despite him being the one that needed it more sometimes) so please let him take care of you as you did for him.

Haku (lord help me again with this man) will become a greedy bastard if you keep indulging him. "No more round? What a shame. I love hearing my name on your lips." To him being with you feels like a guilty pleasure that's far more dangerous than being addicted to nicotine. He tends to be lazy with other things but will gladly take on the invitation to do it with you whenever you want. "You're tired? It's fine princess. Let me get you some water, ok? Stay right here." And if you think he's stopping after that you're dead wrong. He'll do all the work while you just lay there being pretty. Let him take care of you, ok?

Feminist king. Words of affirmation in the air every five seconds. KING OF PRAISE KINK! Everything you do is beautiful; you are simply an art sent from heaven for Zenji to witness, feel, and devour to his hearts content. I feel like he's secretly a pervert but only to the right person... You are an exclusive muse for his creations that he will never share to others. Everything you want to do to him, he'll agree with no questions asked.

Rui despite being flirty and wanting you to think he's kinky, he preferred to be a gentleman on bed. Don't know how he did it back then with the casual flings but after he's no longer cursed he would cherish every second and every inch of you. Worshipping your body with everything he has until you're sick of it. Mouth, hands, whatever and however you want he'll grant it. Just keep using him as you please; make a toy out of him, he doesn't care as long as your eyes and attention stays on him.

A bundle of nerves in the beginning but if it's driven by instinct Lyca won't even stop when you want him to. He would have his way with you bcs he's too impatient, so you have to really bare your fangs if you want to put him in place.

Yuri is a mess of a bottom. Similar to Kaito but unlike him Yuri's mind will resist before fully submitting. How will he finally submit? When you deny him of his own orgasm. The longer you edge him the more he's losing his mind. He would never admit it but he's grateful that you know when to not go all out, especially when he's tired. Even better when you simply go down on him to be his stress reliever in such state.

Doing it with Jiro is a bit embarrassing at first bc he need you to go verbal with how you want him to do things 90% of the time. Don't get him wrong his mind could break at any moment too (or pass out from exhaustion) so if you make it known to him that he can do whatever he wants... oh boy you're in for a ride. He's looking forward to all the expressions you can make with all the positions he'll try with you, and he'll only stop when he pass out.

[damiansgoodgirll]

I know this is so wrong on many levels, but would you please make something with punk cheating on her wife with reader? It can be smut and angsty at the same time, like they both are feeling really guilty but they can’t stop the sexual tension between them 🥵😭😩❤️🙏

AJ I LOVE YOU I PROMISE

cm punk x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️ +18, smut, angst, toxic phil, mean phil, cheating, daddy issues (?)

nasty attraction

what you and phil were doing was wrong on so many levels. he had a wife waiting for him at home, a wife he loved. he promised her to love and protect her, to be always by her side and yet he every week, after raw, he was always in your bed.

it started as an accident. he felt so guilty after you slept together that he avoided for a month. when he realised that he couldn’t avoid you forever, he talked with you, explained that what happened was just a mistake and that he had no feelings for you, that he was deeply in love with his wife and that he needed time to make amend.

you were hurt. you knew that he didn’t have feelings for you but the harsh way he said it, almost as if it was your fault you had sex, it hurt you.

he promised he would have never happened again but he couldn’t keep it promise much as just a few weeks later he was the one dragging you into his hotel room.

he needed to let go some tension and he thought that you wouldn’t mind. of course you didn’t mind. you were probably too focused on your crush for the old man to think that he was only using you.

that mistake turned into more and more mistakes and you couldn’t deny the immense attraction that you had for him. he was older, hot, more experienced than you, rough and cold, married.

all the red flags were right in front of you but you were too blind to see them.

“one last time…this is our last time…” he whispered while one of his hand was working on your clit as the other kept your wrists clutched to the bed.

everytime, he swore that it was going to be the last time but every week the same routine occurred.

he was happily married. he loved his wife more than he could explain. but there was something that you had that made him crawl under your skin.

you were young, in your twenties. you were inexperienced so that lead him to be able to do everything he wanted with you and your body. he knew you had a crush on him, he wasn’t stupid. and he knew it was wrong to play with your feelings but he couldn’t help it. you were like a stress reliever for him, someone he would be rough and mean, someone he could release all the past tension he had.

“fuck…” you moaned, your voice soft while his calloused hands kept harshly stimulating your clit.

“uh uh…bad girls don’t get to cum…” he loved the game he was playing “turn around…ass up” he ordered. he expected you to obey as you always did but there was some hesitation this time “i gave you an order y/n…don’t make me punish you” this was a common routine. he would tease you, he would turn you around and fuck you and then he would leave.

“i don’t want to…” you confessed, opening your eyes.

“to do what?” he didn’t meant to be so mean with you. sometimes he forgot that you were a person just like him and that you had feelings. especially after the whole situation with drew mcintyre, he was more stressed than ever.

“this…” you didn’t want to sound so weak but something shifted between the two of you. he wasn’t always so mean. sure, he wasn’t a vanilla lover but there times where he would actually take his time with you and make you feel appreciated. none of this quick fuck excuses “the way you’ve been treating me for the past weeks…i don’t deserve this phil…i’m not your whore and even if you don’t see this thing the way i see it, you don’t have to treat me like im nothing…” you didn’t meet his eyes.

guilt flowing through his body.

you were right. he knew you were right. but he knew that if he showed even the slightest bit of emotion and kindness towards you, he knew it would be over for him. he didn’t love you, absolutely. he didn’t have a crush like you had. but he was attracted by you, there was like a magnet around you that kept pulling him towards you.

he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. thinking about how your presence was so intoxicating for him.

“i know…and i’m sorry…” he apologised “i’m so fucking sorry…i shouldn’t have been so rude with you, i just…”

“you just?” you were curious.

“what we do…it’s so wrong, i know i shouldn’t do this, i have an amazing wife waiting for me at home…i love her more than anything but i can’t help being so fucking attracted to you, and i know that if i get affectionate with you everything will change and i don’t want that…” he looked at you while speaking and it seemed true to his words.

“we can stop if you want to…” you hoped he would say no.

“that‘s the fucking problem…i can’t stop, i can’t get enough of you, your body, the way you sounds so sweet everytime you cum on my dick…i can’t stop this” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“one last time?” you asked him, hoping that he would say yes.

“one last time…” and he swore that it was going to be the last time for you and him.

he gently laid you down on the bed and kissed upon your body, as if he wanted to apologize for being so mean with you. and for a second you believed him, you believed that his intentions were pure but you remembered that he was a married man, a man who loved his wife, a man who couldn’t give you the future you wanted and deserved and for that you will always resent him.

when he pushed inside of you, his movements were slow, calm. like he wanted to savour you one last time.

he moaned into your shoulder, trying to control himself. he wanted to own you, to show you who was in charge. he wanted to bend you over like he always did but tonight was different, he wanted to have you one last time.

“shit…phil…” you didn’t mean to sound so weak but he was hitting all of the right spots inside of you and you couldn’t keep your moans low. he knew your body so well, and he knew what pushed you on the edge.

“right there baby?” he smirked, taking a deep look into your face. your eyes were closed, trying to stop tears from falling.

“yes…” and that was all he needed to hear since he started moving a little faster, hitting your sweet spot.

“i wanna feel you coming around my dick…one last time…” there was a little of sadness, maybe resentment.

his lips left some kisses over your neck and collarbone, mixing with the pleasure he was already bringing you. this was a sweet phil, a side that you never saw. and you thought about how lucky was his wife to have him, to having him kiss her goodnight every single night, how lucky she was to have him in her arms and hold him every day. you wanted to be that girl and you knew that someday you would get your chance to be loved, just that it wouldn’t be phil to love you like that.

a tear rolled down your eye, both from sadness and pleasure, he was easily bringing you over the edge “phil…i’m so close…” you moaned as your hands moved to mark his back. you didn’t mean to but if that was your last time together, you needed to have him as close as possible so you brought him closer to you. your chest meeting with tattooed one.

he sped a little more, you could hear the cracks from the bed, wondering if your hotel neighbours were hearing those too.

“come for me baby…” he whispered against your skin. those words making you clench hard around his dick that released inside of you. with a deep growl phil came, spilling inside of you. your legs still shaking a bit from the stimulation.

you both looked at each other, speechless. you hoped he would say something first but nothing came out of his mouth.

“our last time uh?” you tried to laugh, but deep down all you wanted to do was cry.

he chuckled, trying to ease the tension “yeah…our last time…i should probably go back to my bedroom” he whispered.

“you should” you didn’t want to hear more words coming out his mouth. you wanted to be left alone and never see him again.

he quickly stood up and he dressed himself. he took one look at you before leaving the room.

you stayed there, watching the ceiling and let all those tears fall.

“she’s so lucky…” you whispered, knowing that you’ll never have him.

[pdriesta]

PROLOGUE

“even when it’s bad, i love you”

pairing — trentxblack!girl

genre — angst, angst and more angst

word count — 1.8k (for prologue)

summary — y/n and trent's once strong relationship is strained by his growing distance and her unexpected pregnancy. as they clash over their future, y/n faces the painful choice of leaving behind the love and they love they worked so hard creating. will they overcome their struggles and rebuild their love, or will their fractured bond break beyond repair?

an — i’ve been so excited for this series! it was on my old blog but i never got to start it out. i’m so happy to finally post it! let me know if anyone is interested in a taglist <3

masterlist

he morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the bedroom. y/n lay beside trent, listening to the sound of his breathing, steady and familiar. she shifted slightly, her heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid between them. even in sleep, there was a tension in his body, a distance that had grown wider with each passing day.

trent stirred, his eyes fluttering open. he turned his head to look at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “morning,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

y/n forced a smile in return, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “morning,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong—something more than just the usual stress of their lives.

trent reached out, brushing a strand of hair that fell out of her stain scarf from her face. “you okay?” he asked, concern flickering in his eyes. “you’ve been quiet lately.”

she hesitated, wanting to tell him everything that was on her mind—the worry, the fear, the uncertainty that had taken root in her heart. but the words caught in her throat, and instead, she just nodded. “i’m fine,” she lied, the weight of her own doubts pressing down on her.

trent studied her for a moment longer, his brow furrowing slightly. he could see through her facade, but he didn’t push. “you sure?” he asked again, his hand lingering on her cheek.

she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth and familiarity of him. “yeah,” she said softly, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. “i’m just tired.”

trent sighed, his own exhaustion seeping into his voice. “you’ve been sick a lot lately,” he said, his thumb tracing circles on her cheek. “maybe you should see a doctor, get checked out.”

y/n swallowed, the knot in her stomach tightening. she hadn’t told him about the nausea, the way she had been waking up every morning with a churning stomach and a feeling of dread. “i’ll be okay,” she said, forcing a smile. “i just need some rest.”

trent didn’t seem convinced, but he nodded, not wanting to press her further. “if you’re sure,” he said, his voice laced with concern. he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “i’m heading to training in a bit. you want me to pick you up from work on the way back?”

y/n shook her head, the weight of her secret growing heavier with each passing second. “no, i’m good,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “i called in sick today. i just... i don’t feel well.”

trent’s eyes darkened with worry. “you’ve been sick a lot lately,” he repeated, his hand slipping from her cheek to her hand, squeezing gently. “if you’re still feeling bad tomorrow, promise me you’ll go to the doctor.”

she nodded, not trusting herself to speak. trent searched her face for a moment longer, then leaned in to kiss her softly. “take care of yourself, yeah?” he whispered against her lips before pulling away.

trent didn't say much more of how she was feeling because he was already deep in his own head. his mind was a maze of doubts, insecurities, and the weight of expectations that had been pressing down on him for weeks. as he pulled on his training gear, his thoughts were a tangled mess of worries about his performance, his place in the team, and the gnawing feeling that he wasn’t enough—not for his teammates, not for the fans, and maybe, just maybe, not even for her.

y/n watched him get out of bed and start getting ready, her heart aching with a mix of love and fear. she could see the lines of stress etched into his face, the weariness in his movements. he had been carrying so much on his shoulders, and she knew how much he doubted himself, how much he questioned his worth, even though he would never admit it.

but he couldn’t say any of that, not when he knew how much y/n was already dealing with. so he kept quiet, hoping that his silence would protect her from the storm raging inside him. he didn’t ask why she’d been so quiet lately, or why she’d been sick so often. instead, he just leaned down to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering there a moment longer than usual, as if trying to pour all the words he couldn’t say into that one gesture. he paused, to look at her, his eyes softening. “i love you,” she whispered, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

trent’s expression softened, and he leaned down to press another kiss to her forehead. “i love you too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “more than anything.”

“take care of yourself, yeah?” he murmured, his voice soft but tinged with an edge of desperation. he didn’t look back at her as he left the room, the door closing with a soft click that echoed in the stillness.

but as he pulled away, y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that love might not be enough to bridge the growing distance between them. she watched him leave, the door closing with a soft click that echoed in the silence of the room.

the quiet settled over her like a blanket, suffocating in its intensity. y/n lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, her mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. the nausea that had plagued her for days returned with a vengeance, and she curled up on her side, clutching her stomach as if that could somehow ward off the dread that had taken root inside her

as soon as he was gone, y/n curled up tighter on the bed, the emptiness beside her feeling more pronounced than ever. she had seen the way his eyes had darkened with worry, had felt the tension in his body when he kissed her. but she couldn’t bring herself to voice her fears, not when he was already carrying so much. instead, she buried her face in the pillow, her heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

after a while, she forced herself to get up, her body moving on autopilot as she reached for her phone. her hands trembled as she dialed the familiar number, and when her mom’s voice came through the line, warm and comforting, y/n felt the floodgates open.

“mum,” she said, her voice strained and broken. “i don’t feel right. i’ve been sick every morning for a while now, and... and trent’s been so distant. i don’t know what to do.”

her mom’s voice was like a balm, soothing the raw edges of her anxiety. “oh, sweetheart, that sounds awful. have you been under a lot of stress lately? sometimes that can make you feel sick.”

“i guess,” y/n replied, though the words felt hollow. “but it’s more than that. something just feels... off. i can’t explain it, but i know something’s wrong.”

there was a pause on the other end of the line, and y/n could almost hear the gears turning in her mum’s mind. “y/n, when was the last time you had your period?”

the question hit her like a freight train. she froze, her mind racing as she tried to remember. she hadn’t even thought about it, too wrapped up in everything else—the tension with trent, the constant nausea, the overwhelming sense of something being wrong. but now that her mom mentioned it, she realized it had been a while—too long. panic began to set in, her heart pounding in her chest.

“i... i don’t know,” she whispered, her hand unconsciously resting on her stomach. “mum, do you think...?”

“it’s possible,” her mom said gently. “why don’t you go get a test, just to be sure?”

“no,” y/n said quickly, the word spilling out in a rush. “i mean, i’m not ready for that. trent and i... we’re not ready for kids. we talked about it, but it was always something in the future, not now.”

her mom’s voice was soft, soothing. “i understand, honey. but it’s better to know. and if it’s positive, we’ll figure it out together. you won’t be alone in this.”

y/n’s mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and fears that threatened to consume her. “but what if i’m not ready?” she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of her doubts. “what if i can’t do this? i’m too young, mom. i don’t know how to be a mom. what if i’m not good enough?”

“oh, sweetheart,” her mom’s voice was thick with emotion. “no one ever feels ready. but you are strong, and you are capable. if you’re pregnant, then this baby is already so loved, just by being a part of you. and you have trent, and you have me and your dad. you’re not alone in this, y/n. you can do this, one step at a time.”

y/n’s tears flowed freely now, her chest tight with a mix of fear and love. she clung to her mom’s words, letting them anchor her in the storm that raged inside her. “i’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“it’s okay to be scared,” her mom reassured her. “but you’re not alone, y/n. you have so many people who love you and will support you, no matter what happens.”

after a lot of convincing and a few more reassurances, y/n found herself at the pharmacy, staring at the rows of pregnancy tests. it felt surreal, like she was watching someone else’s life unfold. her hands shook slightly as she picked up a box, paid for it, and headed back home, her mind numb with fear and uncertainty.

the next hour was a blur. y/n sat on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the test in her hand, waiting for the timer to go off. the minutes dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity. her mind raced with thoughts of what this could mean—how it would change everything, how it might push trent even further away.

when the timer finally beeped, y/n took a deep breath and looked down at the result. two lines. pregnant.

her world tilted on its axis, and she felt like she was drowning. tears welled up in her eyes, and before she knew it, she was crying—deep, heaving sobs that shook her entire body. it wasn’t that she didn’t want children. she did, but not like this, not now. she felt too young, too unprepared for the responsibility that was suddenly thrust upon her.

y/n tried to calm herself, taking deep breaths and reminding herself that trent would be there for her. he loved her, and they had built a life together. but as she sat there, alone in their bathroom, she couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change, and not for the better. she clutched the test to her chest, her tears soaking into the fabric of her shirt . the only through running through her mind was one question, “what am i going to do?”

© PDRIESTA 2024

[cherie-doll]

Omg I realise I’m probably flooding your ask box Cherie, so sorry about that.

But gosh today nearly drove me nuts(in a bad way) and I went home and accidentally went back to binge eating by accident.

And so I thought “Hey, what if the COD men have a S/O who binges on food when they are stressed or angry and they don’t realise it until they feel quite unwell, on the edge of puking sort. And then they calm down and feel a bit guilty about ‘wasting’ unneeded food and calories. They’re also worried about putting on weight cuz in the past they did had to go through that process of being teased and went through a process to slim down and control their eating habits.”

Heavily projecting myself here ngl 😂😂😂 Of course, this might be uncomfy for you to write so all’s chill!

Thank again for writing and posting Cherie 💖 your social media presence is always so delightful

Never apologize for sending an ask, I love having my inbox flooded with asks!

𖧧̣̥ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach

Price

He has learned to pay attention to your behavior

You never ask him to buy it for you, you rummage through what's already in the house

It's addicting, and so easy to pop in another cookie, a couple more chips, a handful of m&m's... until the container is empty

Would pick you up in his strong arms when your body starts to feel the effects, whispering softly "oh, lovey" over and over again in your ear until the guilt is washed out and nothing else is stagnant in your mind but his touch and voice

Ghost

He's always been the observer, so he notices before you catch yourself doing it again

Did research when he was alone because it hurt him to see you crying in the bathroom afterwards, hearing your sniffles through the door

Once he found out that it wasn't the food but the behavior that was harmful he started working on tackling that next, with lots of patience and the guidance of a professional

Soap

He knows you likely won't stop until it's gone

And when you come to him, embarrassed of his reaction when he finds out how much food you've eaten only for him to comfort you

Broke it down for you and explained that even if you consumed a lot of calories it won't show overnight, he kept you focused on being easy on yourself

"You're resilient, I know you are. You can do this"

Gaz

When he noticed you being unusually quiet after a social event where foods of many different kinds had been served, he knew what had happened

It's easy to get overwhelmed, he understands you

Knows what foods and drinks will help

Made tea to make you feel better whilst you were lying in bed

"Tomorrow is a new day, and we'll take control of it"

Roach

It's a vicious cycle: going to sleep scared after another day of wallowing in shame, curling up in bed afraid of the next day being the same as the last; painful

The overwhelming emotions and inability to stare at your bare body in the mirror do not go away easily, yet he's always by your side

He makes it your focus on how you feel rather and how you look, and so every day he cooks for you to make sure you're eating and drinking plenty of water

He even accompanies you on your walks and says assures you everything will be fine

[thebluester2020]

[TWST] "In Another Reality"

Summary: After returning to your original world, you swore that you wouldn't miss anyone there. Especially a certain someone, yet despite the ache you get in your chest when you think about that world. You can't help but reminisce on the moment you fell in love with a draconic prince.

Warning(s): Angst, Yuu!Reader is in their original world, Inspired By Anastasia's "Once Upon A December", Wholesome, Fluff, Malleus being all princely in true Disney fashion.

Side Note(s): I love Leona but after seeing the absolute masterpieces that folks write for Malleus + just recently finishing Anastasia. I gotta throw my hat in the ring too 😔

Also, I struggled between titling this "Once Upon A Dream" or "Once Upon A December". I only went with the first option cause it fits the theme of this fic. 😔

How was it that you could miss a world that wasn't originally your own?

For the last week or so, since you had arrived back to your original world. You've been trying to figure out the answer to this question while also trying to get used to "normalcy" once again. No longer did you have a mouthy talking cat next to you at every turn, calling you "henchman" and practically clawing your leg whenever he wanted tuna. No longer did you hear the chiming of multiple bells across a large campus that was all boys, you were a tad bit unnerved by it at first but...then it simply became an everyday thing.

You had even missed the friends you had made there. Ace and Deuce were the first ones you thought of immediately when you arrived back home.

They were always there for you when the loneliness and longing for your old home grew too much, immediately, they would rush over to your dorm and stay with you until you were having too much fun to be sad anymore.

Oh, and despite the constant smell of mold and dampness. You missed Ramshackle Dorm strangely enough.

You welcomed the constant sounds more than the silence of your own room to be frank.

Grimm's quiet snores as he slept by your head aside, the walls of Ramshackle were often filled with the noises of the local ghosts that haunted the building. On some days, you'd hear laughter, other days the ghosts would argue and yell at one another for the most strangest of reasons. And other, more rarer times? They were silent.

But you enjoyed it when they made noise.

All of it combined into a unique lullaby that made you feel right at home and sometimes made you chuckle in your sleep at the antics they tried to keep down.

Yet...all of this dulled in comparison to the love you held in your heart, then and now, for the draconic prince Malleus. Perhaps it was cliche to say but you enjoyed everything about him, you enjoyed his fascination with gargoyles and his gentle nature. You enjoyed how sweet he was with you when it was just the two of you, how the tips of his ears would turn pink when you complimented him, how—you just missed him.

Even more so now that you remember that...you were supposed to go to a ball that he invited you to. One located in his homeland of Briar Valley, you remembered how you stressed to Grimm about how excited and nervous you were. You needed the best dress in the world if you were going to a ball that a prince personally invited you to!

A little late to feel bad.

A little late to be upset that you wouldn't be able to go but...that's what dreams were for, right? Imagining the impossible and wondering about what could've been. So, you did just that, imagine.

| Somewhere In Briar Valley... |

Your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest as you stood along the pathway that led up to the large mansion where the ball was being held. An intimidating structure made of dark stone, gargoyles stationed in front of the giant doors like unmoving guardians whilst the eerie windows, long vines and moss blanketing them halfway but not too much to where you weren't able to see the golden light that emitted from within.

Even from where you stood, being passed by all manner of fae-folk alike. You could hear the enchanting music, soft violins, and the haunting keys of the piano playing the lower notes. "Should I have even gone to this thing?" You murmured to yourself as you continued up the steps, the clacks of your heels only serving to make you more nervous as you held up your dress just enough to where you wouldn't accidentally trip and make a fool of yourself.

Even if the prince of this valley personally invited you. You still stuck out like a sore thumb!

A human walking up the way to a mansion where a ball was being held.

Briefly, even, you wondered if some type of cruel prank was being played on you by Malleus. Perhaps the second you stepped inside, you'd be greeted by everyone inside immediately staring at you and then laughing, would Malleus join in the laughter at your foolishness for thinking that you'd have the chance to dance with a prince? Would he call you out and even dare to make you say how excited you were to be invited—

No. No.

Malleus wouldn't ever think to do that you. The same man who loved to rant to you about the history of gargoyles and how they've been used throughout history, the same man who would flush at the tips of his ears when you gave him a compliment— "Y/N." A familiar voice called out for you at the top of the steps.

You couldn't help the smile that immediately came onto your face as you stopped to look at Malleus. Was it appropriate to bow to him at this moment? As the other fae-folk passed him by, they made sure to bow as they did so! "O-Oh!" You said before you bowed. Then, you felt a hand on your shoulder before you steadily looked up to see Malleus smiling at you.

"Please, don't."

"Everyone else is doing it," You said with a shy giggle. "It felt right."

The fae prince shook his head with a sigh before he offered his arm for you to loop your own with. "You are my honored guest for tonight, I personally invited you. I don't need you to bow to me."

You mentally rolled your eyes at how sweet he was being towards you, your mouth opening to retort back to him until...you immediately lost your train of thought once you were inside of the mansion. Although it reminded you of a mansion on the outside, it seemed like the entire inside of the building had been made specifically for ballroom dancing. The open floor was huge and appeared to be made out of gold (although you were certain it was just colored marble), with people of all manner of species and races dancing and spinning around! Farther out in front of you, to the right, the musicians was playing the music on a slightly heightened stage.

"Do I look alright?" You said as you looked down at yourself, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Malleus tilted his head at your question, as if the answer was obvious. "You look beautiful." He reassured you before leading you to a buffet table where all manners of drink and food were being served. You didn't know if you were oozing nervousness or not but...you appreciated him not immediately leading you to the dance floor and allowing you to adjust via stuffing your face with all of the delicious foods. "I am glad you accepted my invitation." Malleus commented as you took a bite of a frosted cookie, your eyes practically gaining stars in them at the taste.

After wiping your lips, however, you chuckled at the prince's words. "I would be stupid to decline." You laughed. "A personal invitation to a ball from a prince? Isn't that every person's dream more or less?"

"Had I known that such a thing was a goal for you, I would have done it sooner. These events happen often in the valley."

You blushed. "Well...thanks but, hopefully, you'll come with me? I mostly came because I wanted to hang out with you more." And tell you that I like you, is what you thought in the back of your mind as you watched Malleus' eyes widen before a handsome smile graced his features. You wanted to tell him that you liked him so badly that it nearly hurt you.

But all too often, you'd crush your confidence underneath a foot made of "What ifs?".

What if Crowley found a way for you to go home tomorrow?

What if Malleus didn't like you back?

What if he was engaged?! You knew that royalty had a tendency to do that, arranged marriages and all that. The last thing you wanted to do was accidentally cross a royal and make your life in this strange world even harder than what it already was from time to time! But...you were certain that, had Malleus had a fiance of some sort, he would have mentioned them. He would have brought them instead of you.

So you focused on your main worry.

Home.

You didn't know what would hurt you more. Telling him that you liked him and then promptly had to choose between going home or staying in this world with him or keeping your feelings close to your chest and constantly wondering about what ifs— "You're really in your thoughts today, aren't you? What's going on in your mind, perhaps I can alleviate them?"

You shook your head. "It's-It's nothing." You said before the lights suddenly dimmed.

"The slow dance is about to begin, shall we?" Without a moment of hesitancy, you took his offered hand before he led you to the middle of the dance floor.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, I'm going based on the movies but...aren't slow dances supposed to happen later in the night?"

An embarrassed squeak escaped your lips as you felt the fae's other hand wrap around your waist, steadily pulling you in until the both of you were nearly chest to chest. And, he smelled good...like mint and spring rain mixed with a touch of something stronger. Yet, as Malleus smiled at your embarrassment, he did his best to avoid making you blush even harder for the sake of you. "It's late," He answered simply. "Fae parties, especially our balls, they start later in the night. More opportunity to see the stars and witness the fireflies at their most beautiful."

You felt a certain tinge in your chest at the words of "It's late".

You didn't want this night to end so soon.

"Well..." You licked your lips as you tried to find your words as Malleus took the lead in your dance, his hand tight around your own as he kept his eyes focused on you. "...I-I don't want this night to end so soon." You admitted.

"Neither do I," He admitted.

As if time froze...and maybe it was cliche to say but, it felt like it was just the two of you in the entire ballroom when he said that. All of a sudden, the music became a gentle buzz in the background and the people around you faded into meaningless blurs. Yet, it only enhanced the rapid beating in your chest as you mind waged war with itself about whether or not to confess your feelings here in the now or to continue to keep it to yourself.

You gulped. "M-Malleus."

"Yes?" God you wished he wouldn't smile like he did whenever you said his name, you wished his eyes wouldn't appear to brighten up like lights on a tree whilst gaining a look that...you thought was excitement, a certain expectancy of something in particular.

"How- S-Sorry if I'm such a bad dancer." Way to blow it brain. "I should've taken dance classes beforehand,"

He laughed quietly as his arm around your waist tightened ever so slightly as the two of you spun a couple of times before you fell back into a gentle two-step, back and forth, back and forth. "I think you're a fine dancer, perhaps not as experienced as myself but good." He joked.

"I don't think there's anyone in this world that can match your skill."

"I don't know," Your eyes widened a little when his face got closer to your own. You were certain he could see your face turning as red as an apple with how close he was. "I think you would be able to catch up to me in no time if...if you continued to remain by my side."

Was he...? "Malleus?"

Suddenly, the two of you stopped dancing, Malleus' hand falling from your waist to take up holding your other hand as he gained a pleading look in his eyes, one that you had never seen before. "Child of man, I would prefer you to be frank with me. Something is on your mind, please tell me."

As if a dam had suddenly been torn open, all the water had rushed out as you quickly found your ability to speak to the prince. "I like you—no, I love you. I know it." You blurted out.

"I...I don't know how long I'll remain in this world but, I wish I could've spent it with you. I never should have—"

"Y/N." He interrupted. "What are you—"

"I didn't get a chance to tell you that I liked you beforehand, I just wanted to do this before—" You looked at the clock that hung on a wall behind Malleus.

One minute before midnight.

One kiss. That's all you wanted and swore you forget everything about Twisted Wonderland, that you would move on with your life and never think about Malleus again. Just one kiss.

"Do you love me Malleus? If you do...please kiss me, please." You begged as tears began to brim your eyes. The prince's eyes were as wide as the moon that hung in the sky outside. But...he had wanted to kiss you since the moment he figured out what this emotion in his chest was, he had been waiting so patiently for you to admit your feelings towards him. So, despite his curiosity at how eager you were all of a sudden. He leaned towards you and—

You were awake.

Your eyes snapped open to look at the dark ceiling above your bed.

No ballroom music or dancing fae-folk around you. The taste of the cookies you had "eaten" just a few minutes earlier were suddenly gone and left your mouth feeling dry and parched. Before you had awoken, you could've sworn that you left a wisp of Malleus' lips on your own and...they felt like pillows upon your own. But, this cruel reality...to know that everything was only just a dream, a whisper of another reality you could have lived.

It hurt.

And all you could do now?

It was to cry yourself into a dreamless slumber.

[the-thing-withfeathers]

exceeded caution part 2

first time for everything

series masterlist

a/n: heyy y’all!! so this is part 2 of exceeded caution. a lot of it follows the actual movie because i needed set-up for ghostface. there’s still a lot of interaction between the reader + sam & tara but some of it is from the first 30 minutes of scream vi essentially.

warnings: violence (gun usage, knife usage), cursing. he/him pronouns for ghostface.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

a few days ago, sam was nowhere near the forefront of your mind. you had stayed with the group as they navigated their way through accepting that ghostface might be back.

you hadn't spoken to tara much, you felt like you wouldn't be any help to her. she didn't need her ex-girlfriend that she only dated out of convenience around her constantly.

instead, the other carpenter sister started to find solace in your presence.

you found yourself over quite a bit, you noticed that they valued strength in numbers. you even all set a rotation between the group for who would cook that week.

during your week to cook, sam insisted on joining you when grocery shopping. as you promised her that she wouldn't be alone, she mentally promised you the same thing.

"it's just a simple beef stroganoff recipe, sam. you really don't have to come." you smiled sheepishly as you pulled up outside her apartment, she was hopping into your passenger seat.

"ghostface won't let a grocery store stop him from taking lives." sam was firm in her words, you sighed in defeat and drove off towards the shops that were only a couple minutes away from her place. you wanted her to feel safe still.

she pushed the cart while you took ingredients off the shelves, mumbling to yourself as you chucked them in the cart.

"tara used to say your food was amazing. where did you learn to cook?" she asked you, you looked away from your list to smile at her.

"my mom, she's amazing at cooking. she gave up her career to support my dad and become a fulltime housewife." you explained. "i used to help her cook all the time."

"that's pretty cool. i find myself never having the time for new foods. i should probably get on that."

"i can teach you some. or make some for you, i like cooking for people." you shrugged, taking another ingredient off the shelves.

sam would normally decline if you were anyone else, but she felt the urge to accept.

"sure. that would be nice." she nodded at you.

sam had enjoyed you being around more often and getting to know you outside of tara. she even found herself calling you a friend.

or rather, she tried to keep it at friend. she was trying to hide the fact that she felt a pull to you, she didn't know how to explain it. although, one thing was sure, there was an element of guilt to it.

she wasn’t the only one feeling guilty. you felt almost dirty with how much you thought of sam. because of the frequency of your contact, you found yourself wanting to see her more.

was this against some form of girl code that you shouldn’t want to hang out with your ex’s sister?

“um… how are you?” she could see that you were nervous to ask her that. “i know you probably get asked that all the time but i never ask… and i want to know.”

“that’s fine. i figured you would get curious. you always seem to be.” sam commented.

“is curiosity bad?” you teased a little, noting her phrasing.

“no! not at all.” she perked up, shaking her head.

“don’t worry sam, i’m joking.” you realised that the carpenter sisters weren’t used to bantering with someone they weren’t extremely close to— or someone they didn’t love.

“right.” she bit her lip. “but no? it’s not bad at all.” she chuckled. “but i’m… not okay?”

you nodded, respecting her answer and silently thanking her for being honest.

“i hoped that we would escape this when we moved. and i’ve been doing everything to protect tara but it didn’t end for sidney prescott— so i assume that it won’t end for us.” she scratched her brow, the stress getting to her. “i’m sorry you got involved.”

“it’s okay, sam. i knew what i was getting into when i dated tara.” you nodded. “if it happened again, i already knew i’d stick around.”

“that’s admirable.”

you felt your heart clench a little when she said that. nobody had ever told you that your desire to stick around was admirable. you always got “clingy” or “overbearing.” that was the first time you’d ever gotten a compliment on it.

“oh! um… thank you.” you stuttered out, a blush flooding your cheeks. you knew that sam meant it too, she wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better. she was genuinely saying it.

“it’s true.” it was.

you tried to push your flustered down into the depths of your mind as you struggled to reach the top shelf with the last of your ingredients. you were definitely taller than tara— everyone was. but not tall enough to face this eight layered shelf.

sam was.

sam was taller. and she made that perfectly clear when she basically pressed up behind you to grab this damn dijon mustard for you.

oh no… oh no… you had to stop those thoughts. you had turned around too quickly, basically coming chest to chest with the girl. she didn’t seem to mind— and you refused to mind.

you had never been this close to her before. your eyes trailed over all her features, taking them in. she looked just like tara… maybe that’s whats got your heart beating at the speed of light.

but she wasn’t tara. no, she was sam. and you found that to be what sealed the deal for you.

you found her pretty.

you remained silent as you finished off the last of the ingredient collection. you walked over to the self check-out, scanning the items as the blush continued to make its presence known as sam hovered.

you shuffled some things around in your pocket to try and find your card but before you knew it, sam was paying for your groceries.

“what—“ you tried to protest but the transaction had gone through already.

sam didn’t know what overcame her.

it was her way of taking care of you.

it was even her way of apologising to you.

"sam, you didn't have to do that." you shook your head at her.

"my treat, i didn't get to cook for everyone so this is my way of contributing." she shook you off. you knew that was a lie because mindy sent you a photo of meals you missed, one being sam's.

there was no undoing it now. you sighed and reached for the bags, but sam was one step ahead of you, grabbing them and walking out of the store.

you wished you could wash the blush off with soap.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when you arrived for dinner with your groceries. everyone was already at the carpenter’s apartment. they were spread out across the entire floor, conversing with each other.

you got to cooking almost immediately, knowing that everyone had potentially been there for a while. sam left your side to talk to quinn.

you kept feeling eyes on you.

the shorter carpenter sister was talking to mindy when she felt her attention turn away from her and onto you. she watched you cook, she actually always loved your cooking.

she loved when you would make a dinner catered just to her. she actually missed how lively the kitchen used to be when you were in it. you were even dancing around now, your headphones tucked over your ear.

she smiled a little at how you shook your waist to the music. everyone knew not to bother you so you could get it done quicker.

but tara wanted to bother you. she wanted to approach you and say something, anything to break the silence.

you were friends before everything went down. she thought that maybe she could at least salvage that, that would be her way to redemption.

mindy kept talking and talking before cutting herself off suddenly, realising that tara was no longer paying attention.

“tara, don’t.” mindy said, disappointment clear in her tone. “this is something you need to give time to.”

“there’s been a lot of time.” tara muttered, glaring at mindy.

“you can’t just break her heart and expect her to let you back in so quickly.” mindy held her shoulder back.

“i know it won’t be quick, but i have to try.” tara said through her teeth, pulling her shoulder out of mindy’s grasp and starting to make her way towards you.

tara stopped on her heels when she saw her sister already take your attention. she thought that she’d better not interrupt you.

“whatcha listening to?” sam asked you, her arms crossed over her chest.

you pulled your headphones back a little.

“sloppy jane.” you said.

“sloppy jane? what kind of name is that?!” sam laughed.

“she’s cool! i promise!” you raised your hands up in defense. you took your headphones off your head, you gently placed them on sam. your hands nicking strands of her long hair before you pulled them away.

she held eye contact with her as her head bobbed to the music, you matched the bobbing, knowing which part of the song she was on.

a smile formed on her face while you two were in sync. your eyes started to crinkle up with a smile as your hair started getting in your face when you headbanged. she joined you until the kitchen was filled with laughter.

“okay… okay. i see it now. she has a good sound.” sam agreed with you, placing the headphones back on you but leaving an ear open.

“thank you.” you chuckled, moving the beef strips into the bowl you intended to serve it in.

“this smells soooo good.” sam practically moaned out, you laughed at the noise she made.

“well, you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else!” you teased.

she groaned and rolled her eyes. you liked seeing her loosen up a bit more, you were grateful she was getting more comfortable around you.

as you two laughed, tara stared on.

she remembered when she was in sam’s place. she even felt herself grow jealous at her sister. why did she ever think that what she was doing to you was okay? your heart was gold and tara thought she had turned it dark— she realised your golden heart’s integrity never faltered. you were still just as good.

she was cruel and she broke your heart. she didn’t think she would regret it— until she suddenly felt all that guilt wash over her. was she regretting it?

you enlisted sam to help you bring all your dishes to the table.

“beef stroganoff, pasta, and rice. choose your carb to go with it and enjoy!” you presented your meal to the group.

everyone admired your work and sat down at the table. you ended up sitting beside mindy who talked your ear off about some pottery class that she and anika took.

you glanced over at sam first, her eyes meeting yours during her conversation with ethan. you two exchanged heartfelt smiles, you had a good day because of each other.

then you looked at tara, who was already looking at you. her first serving was practically gone. you knew that she loved one thing about you, and it was your cooking. she held a sadness behind those eyes, you saw into it, but you had your doubts that it was sadness.

when you noticed her plate, you felt yourself flash her a smile too. she returned it, it was shy but still genuine. her plate was cleaned up just seconds after everyone served themselves.

crumbs of you, tara would take. she cherished that smile you gave to her, even if it was forced or accidental. it filled her brain.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

washing up had to be done, you wanted do it yourself, saying how you were on a roll from cooking that you wanted to do the cleaning too.

sam was about to speak up but suddenly, tara found her voice.

“i’ll help!” she said, chirping up. everyone looked at her with confusion. they didn’t expect that she would do that for you.

“oh… okay!” you said, making your way over to the kitchen.

you scrubbed the plates and handed them to her to dry. it was a good system that worked.

“you did well with dinner today. your cooking is always good.” tara smiled at you.

“thank you, tara. i appreciate it.” your lips pressed into a thin line.

“i just wanted to say that.” she put the plates onto the drying rack. “we haven’t spoken in a while.”

“i know. i just wanted to give you space. i felt like i wasn’t much help to you ever. and i felt like i wouldn’t be much help now.” you confessed. “but i want to stick around, i would be a pretty shit person if i didn’t.”

she felt horrible that you thought that you wouldn’t be help. in fact, there were some nights that tara found herself longing for you.

“we were friends before this, do you think we’d be able to get back to that?” she asked, searching your face for hope. but all she saw was doubt.

“maybe, tara.” you turned to her, handing her the last of the dishes. you saw the dejected look on her face and sighed. you wanted to go back to that too, you missed the tara that was a good friend to you. “but we can try.”

tara’s face lit up, a bit of shock also hidden between the lines. “okay! yeah… let’s try.” she put the dish away and held her hand out, you chuckled but you shook it.

what you failed to see was your maybe friend’s sister staring at you both from the living room, her jaw tightened as tara touched you.

sam zoned back into the conversation, realising that the show they were watching was long gone and replaced by the news again.

there was another death.

sam erupted in her anger, suddenly storming into the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife that she owned.

you had no idea what just happened, tara followed her sister back to the living room, the commotion having everyone sit up.

“sam! slow down!” tara yelled after her sister, you joined them after putting the dishes away. “can we please think about this before you decide to abandon my college education?!”

you couldn’t blame sam for wanting to leave. this was something that she just wanted to escape. as much as you would be upset, you would understand. you’d help, even.

you would help them pack up if it meant they were away from everything. you were prepared to never speak of the carpenter sisters again, in hopes that they would never have to go through this again.

“this can’t just be a coincidence, tara!” sam yelled back at her. today was the day where you saw the genetic stubbornness displayed by the carpenter sisters.

“quinn, can you please call your dad?!” tara asked their roommate, quinn immediately nodded. you could tell she didn’t want to get yelled at by sam but it was a reasonable point of action.

ring!!!

everyone flinched. you didn’t. it was just a phone ringing to you, but to everyone else, it was so much more.

sam’s phone blared on the table, she walked over only to see that it was gale weathers, she declined the call without a doubt.

you watched as quinn travelled across the room, telling sam that her father wanted to speak to her. you heard the muffled voice of mr. bailey from where you were standing.

“okay, thank you. i’ll be right there.” sam hung up. “he wants me down at the station.”

“i’ll drive you.” you said, grabbing your keys. “i live close to the station.”

“you shouldn’t have to—“ you cut sam off.

“no. i will. no man left behind, remember?” you said, firm in your decision. sam sighed but nodded.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you, sam, and tara made it out the door and started to walk to your car.

suddenly, sam’s phone rang again. the two girls stopped when they saw the name displayed on the screen.

richie kirsch.

richie? you recognized that name. you huddled closer to the sisters, closing your eyes to rack your memory for where you knew that name.

no. wait.

it couldn’t be. he was dead, wasn’t he?

“don’t pick that up.” tara said, looking up at sam.

sam hesitated, but it could be important. these calls were life or death for them. she picked up.

you looked at your surroundings. you suddenly felt so exposed, like anything could happen to you now that you weren’t in the comforts of your own home— or anyone’s home.

“who is this?” sam asked into the phone. you couldn’t hear the responses, only sam’s facial expressions changing as time went on.

her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes changed. you saw woodsboro glaze her pupils, you knew she was thinking back to her life before the city. everything was resurfacing.

“i want you to think long and hard about whether or not you wanna do this because the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead.” she said, planting her feet down with determination.

your eyes started to tear away from sam, not absorbing the conversation.

bad gut feeling.

you had to stop ignoring those.

“you better watch your back, asshole.” sam said.

and tara yelled.

a cloaked figure sporting a ghostface mask suddenly grabbed tara, you sprung into action. tara elbowed the figure and you shoved him into the bike rack.

“go!” you said, running just behind the two sisters.

“there!” sam redirected you into a little corner store. you stood with your front to the door while the girls yelled at the cashier to help them, starting a fight with someone in line.

suddenly ghostface walked in.

you backed up into sam, pushing her backwards a little bit while one of the customers stood tall in front of the infamous killer.

you watched as ghostface drove their knife into the man, multiple times.

you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth. you had never seen anyone get killed before. you thought ghostface had specific targets, this wasn’t just an ordinary killer, this killer wasn’t afraid to take any life that stood in his way.

you turned around and the three of you flooded into the back of the store as the clerk wielded his gun.

when the first gunshot rang, sam’s arm flew to cover you as chips flew everywhere. tara was crouched just beside the two of you.

suddenly, there was a second gunshot. but only after you heard the clerk start begging for his life.

you tried to stay quiet, you didn’t realise where parts of your body were. you had a hand on sam’s abdomen, bunching her shirt into your fist. you were terrified, you had never gone through this before. you couldn’t imagine what sam & tara were feeling.

you couldn’t move— or else he would know where you were.

the corner store was quiet, it was like a cruel game of cat and mouse. you heard crunching as the sound of boots got closer to you.

all three of you rounded the corner to avoid detection. sam hid behind a freezer while you and tara hid behind the shelving. you saw sam’s eyes flicker to a can on the ground and you knew what she was trying to say.

carefully, you reached out and picked the can off the floor. it was disgusting and sticky. was this what they had to result to when defending themselves? putting themselves in disgusting situations? you felt twisted picturing them going through this once— now twice.

you threw the can across the corner store, hearing boots walk in the other direction. it was a successful distraction. the three of you started crawling towards the exit.

when you heard the boots stop moving again, you paused. sam leaned forward, you could tell that she could see a lot clearer than you. she slowly inched towards the shelving, then she suddenly shoved it with her shoulder, knocking it down.

god, she was strong.

had she been training herself to get stronger? in case this happened again?

the three of you hauled ass to the exit, being met with cop cars and their sirens.

the three of you were escorted into the cars. the sisters rode in one while you went in the other. you fidgeted with your fingers. then it was daunting on you.

baby’s first ghostface attack.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you sat in an interrogation room at the precinct. the walls were closing in on you.

you had been close to death before. you remember when you and your parents got into that gnarly car accident that had you coming out with several broken bones and whiplash. you cradled your arm, feeling the after-effects of the worst injury you sustained.

but this wasn't a car t-boning yours. this was a killer.

and you felt like death was kissing your cheek.

you didn't know where sam and tara were, you assumed a different interrogation room. you were waiting for ages, you thought that maybe someone was attending to them first.

you sat in silence for about ten more minutes, trying to decompress the situation.

the lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing detective bailey. you had met quinn's dad in passing, never really speaking to him.

"mr. bailey. how are you?" you asked him, sitting up in your chair. you noticed he had files in his hand. this was going to take longer than you wanted.

"i'm good. thank you... how are you doing? you weren't around for woodsboro, i'm sure it's a bit of a shock to be involved now." straight into it.

"a bit is an understatement, sir." you let out a dry chuckle. "i'm assuming you're going to be asking me more than just 'how are you' though..."

"i'm sorry. i know you're probably tired." he sighed, you nodded. you were trying to hold back a yawn.

"it's fine."

he sat down across from you, opening the file and putting its contents in front of you.

"you're the newest addition to the group, quinn has talked about you. i know you and tara had a past relationship. were you frequently in and out of their apartment?" he asked.

"yeah... tara and i were together for a bit. i usually visited her and i also hang out with mindy and chad, so yes, i was frequently at theirs." you nodded, you often found that honesty was the best policy with these things.

"i know that your relationship with her ended badly." he stated, you scoffed.

"surely a bad break-up isn't enough motivation to go on these killing sprees, right?" you asked, a bit offended.

"sometimes it might just be."

"did you have access to sam carpenter's belongings?" he followed up. what did sam's stuff have to do with this?

"um... no. not really. i never really interacted with sam until ghostface was rumored to resurface. and even then, i don't really have that access." you crossed your arms across your chest, your eyes scanning the photos on the desk. you spotted a photo of sam's license, bloodied and dumped at the scene of the crime.

someone was trying to frame her.

"we found sam's license next to the body."

"well she was with me all day. we went grocery shopping and i cooked everyone dinner." you quickly jumped at the chance to defend her. "tara was there too."

mr. bailey nodded at you confirming their alibi.

"sam said the same thing." he reassured you. he leaned in a bit closer to you. "although, i'd be cautious about those sisters. especially sam. i wouldn't get too close."

your brows furrowed in frustration.

"i'm sure i have nothing to worry about. they're good people." you didn't want to speak any further on the matter.

you hated that the thought of either of them being responsible for these deaths even crossed the detective's mind. he was supposed to be helping them.

two knocks against the door turned the detective's attention to another officer walking into the room.

"the fbi is here." the officer said. detective bailey looked confused.

"the fbi? where?" he stood up then turned to you. "you're free to go. i think sam and tara are waiting for you."

you stood from your seat and followed him, making your way over to the two dark-haired sisters. tara was the first to spot you, nudging sam until she turned around.

you sped up, you didn't know what it was. you just had to make sure she was real.

you wrapped your arms around sam. you felt her tense up out of shock but return the gesture.

"i'm sorry." you apologised for the sudden hug.

"it's okay." sam smiled warmly.

you turned to tara and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly.

tara's eyes met yours. those pleading doe eyes, they wanted more than just a squeeze on the shoulder. she wished she was sam in that moment.

"i'm really glad you two are okay." you cleared your throat. sam smiled at you, even if it was forced, it was nice to see.

you heard two voices chatting just a little bit aways from you. sam started moving towards them, you and tara followed behind.

"kirby?" she spoke, getting the attention of a blonde woman.

"hey sam." kirby replied, moving to hug sam as well.

"do you know each other?" bailey asked.

"yeah... we went to woodsboro high together. she was a senior when i was a freshman." sam clarified. you studied the woman in front of you.

all you could say was that she looked cool. she was an fbi agent that had been monitoring the sisters for a little while. you realised that this had been the kirby involved with the killings too. they shared a very unique experience between each other.

you stayed behind sam while they conversed. kirby was handed the mask that was left at the scene. the mask used in the 2011 killings. kirby lifted her shirt to show the scar that charlie walker gave her.

sam looked uncomfortable. she realised then that this was bigger than just a killing spree, they were trying to send a message.

kirby proposed you all worked together but sam interjected, not giving her the chance to finish.

"we're getting out of town." she pushed through kirby and detective bailey.

"i'm sorry, that's not possible. you're both persons of interest. all three of you are." bailey warned.

"are you serious?" tara stepped forward, the growing frustration evident in her voice.

"he's right." kirby confirmed. "but if we work together-"

"we're going." sam basically barked an order at you and tara.

"my car's back at your place." you said. sam nodded. a small part of her brain was happy that you would be around after that.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when the three of you made your way out of the precinct, you had never seen so many cameras before. reporters swarmed the three of you, immediately asking sam questions like if she had an alibi or if tara felt safe with her sister.

they didn't pay you any mind, how could they? you were fresh meat to the group, they didn't care about your story. luckily, it allowed you to mercilessly shove them back, helping make space for sam and tara to walk through the flood.

you found yourself holding onto sam's waist, pulling her towards the open spots you've created with your body pushing against the reporters.

"gale weathers." a voice sounded out in the crowd, causing the sisters to stop in their tracks. you knew that name too, it felt like an endless revision on who was who, if you had studied well enough. "do you ladies think that you're the reason that the ghostface killer has come to the big apple?" she asked.

you saw it in sam. she snapped. she'd had a long night, she nearly lost her life. she nearly lost her sister. and her... friend.

she swung with her fist out.

"sam!" you exclaimed as gale ducked, avoiding the punch. you pulled sam's waist back, you knew she didn't need another video of her going viral. she put her hands over yours, allowing you to hold her back. you had to admit, it felt nice knowing you had a bit of pull on her.

although, you failed to account for the shorter carpenter sister. you failed to catch her pulling her elbow back and swinging at gale with a force of her own.

you jumped at the noise made by the contact and had to hold back a laugh at gale's shocked face. sam cracked a smile, she couldn't help herself.

"stay away from us." tara spat at gale.

you two turned to walk towards a cab that was parked outside the station. you pushed sam slightly by her waist, hoping she wouldn't turn back around.

but gale weathers just had to say something.

"are you two seriously still mad about what happened?"

"you wrote a book. about them." she didn't expect you to say anything. she didn't know who you were or what you were to the carpenters. she looked at you as if you were irrelevant, like another body that ghostface could dispose of just to raise the numbers.

"and who are you?" she asked, a snark in her voice.

"doesn't matter. you took advantage of them. of the fact that they lost their friends, they nearly lost each other." you shook your head. "i remember you, from tara's stories."

tara watched you fight back. how could you still do that after she hurt you? you were full of surprises. she had never seen your tongue so laced with venom before.

"you lost someone too. dewey... if someone kept shoving that down your throat, how would you feel?" you asked, glaring her way as sam and tara entered the cab. gale's stance shifted, she was uncomfortable with a stranger knowing so much information about her personal life. but then again, she put the carpenter sisters' life out there for the whole world to see.

"i remember your book too. you called sam unstable, you painted her in the worst light possible. and i thought you had been through enough with her to know that that's not true." you turned back to the two girls, opening the door to the back of the cab for them.

sam's face was unreadable as she hopped into the car. she stared at the back of your head, or more like the back of your seat. you stood up for her, breaking your kind and golden-hearted demeanour. she was worried that being in this situation would change you for the worst.

you sat in silence after telling the driver where to go. leaning back into your seat, you tried to keep your eyes open. you hadn't gotten any sleep since last night, your time divided between the carpenter residence and the station.

there was so little to say and yet so many words were jumbled in your brain.

when you arrived at the carpenter's apartment, you yawned as you exited the cab. sam caught you do so and stopped you before you could unlock your car. her hand covered yours, gripping it in her own.

"you should rest here for a little bit. you're too tired to drive." she said, looking down at you. you wanted to get home and sleep in your own bed but you knew she was right.

you put your car keys away and walked upstairs with them.

tara immediately made a beeline for the bathroom. she always showered after coming home, she couldn't go a day without smelling like vanilla.

sam put pillows and blankets down on their couch and walked into her room, coming back out with some clothes.

"you can change into these for now, you might as well make yourself comfortable. and you can sleep for as long as you want." she said, you took the clothes and nodded at her.

she sat down on the couch and pulled the blanket up slightly to cover herself, you grabbed the blanket to stop her.

"what are you doing? i'll take the couch." you said, furrowing your brows.

"no. you'll take my bed." she looked up at you from the couch.

"it's your damn bed, sam." you didn't mean to sound so ill-mannered but the tiredness was getting the best of you.

"i know. so i'll do with it as i please." you know it was just her trying to show that she cared. "so you're taking it."

you sighed sharply, you were about to take a massive risk.

"share it with me." you said, holding your ground. you didn't want to kick sam out of her own bed.

she saw the determination on your face. you two were going to sit here and bicker if she didn't give in now. she nodded, standing up and making her way back to her room.

you changed into sam's clothes, her scent wafting as the shirt fell over your figure. then you cracked the door open enough to slip yourself into her room.

just as you entered sam's room, tara came out of the bathroom. she had the look of a shattered woman on her face, you should have been going into her room. she should have offered first.

you shut the door behind you, walking towards the bed where sam was sitting. you spotted her nursing her hand, spotting a deep cut from crawling on glass at the bodega.

"sam, you should've gotten that taken care of." you scolded her a little, walking to her bathroom and grabbing a medkit you knew was there. tara had told you that she put one in every bathroom.

you knelt in front of sam, unpacking the kit to grab the antiseptic and a bandage.

"it's fine, it's only a cut." she protested.

"if ghostface doesn't get you, an infected cut will. and i think that's extremely embarrassing." you tried to make light of it, your exhaustion washing over you. "this'll hurt."

you dabbed the antiseptic into sam's cut. she hissed at the sting. but the sight in front of her was better. you, in her clothes, patching her up. this was probably the worst time for her to form a crush, and probably the worst person to form it on. her sister's ex-girlfriend, who was now involved in the ghostface killings. but your soft features, your concern for her, it was hard to resist you.

she chalked it up to exhaustion, maybe this crush would fade away when she was in her right mind.

but when you situated yourself next to her in bed, your respectful nature forcing you to leave ample space so you two weren't touching each other, she hoped that she would one day earn the honour of closing that gap.

as she closed her eyes, she listened in to your soft breathing. and even when you accidentally ended up shoulder to shoulder in bed,

sam refused to move.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

author's journal okay i actually spent way too much time on this chapter, i had to write out the first 30 minutes of scream vi with a reader insert so it was a little bit more cohesive with the storyline. i don't know how i feel about this one chapter in particular but i'm starting to see the vision for the rest of the series teehee. i promise it wont just be the whole movie written down but it'll definitely have canon events. next chapter is most likely going to be non-canon as much as possible just cause this is a romance fic at the end of the day.

also this is the song i intended for the reader to be listening to with sam

[koshiaoi]

More sif from In Galaxies And Eons, he gets a bit worn-out whenever he loops.

My hc is he is affected by the craft exhaustion way more than normal sif, by way more I mean while in the loops, and that's because it's not just local to Vaugarde and is instead just reversing time completely! But his body does still feel the effects of it harshly, as each time he dies the scar on his cheek and the black bits of his hair, hat, and the inside of his clothes gains another star. All the black bits slowly turn a dark blue! Just cuz I wanna and I love blue.

If anyone is wondering, the scar on his cheek he got from loop, this loop spent way longer in the time loops than the original loop (around 10k I think?) And doesn't really talk to siffrin because of this. Loop attacked sif because he wanted to replace him and get back his actors.

From everyone else's perspective, they were a few days before they got to dormant and were taking a break when they heard sif scream, they rushed over and saw him almost dead being attacked by a "sadness" that somehow could talk? They hear it say something about ripping his skin off and replacing him, at which point they were able to save sif. Frightening loop, causing them to run away. Isa and odile noticed something in its eyes though... a weird shade that gave them a visceral feeling.

Bonnie wouldn't be able to leave sifs side after this, as they were told that he was 'just going to take a nap' and he ended up getting attacked. So bonnie sees this and knows that they can't leave the rest of the party anymore, but what's worse about it is that even though frin looks half dead, they're not bleeding, like at all. Instead, every scratch and wound is this weird back nothingness, which is even more reason to not let him alone ever again!

Mira tries her best to heal him, but nothing happens, almost like its permanent damage, like its scars, which stress her out even more! The person who she thought she could trust with her life is now badly injured because of her! If she just didn't ask him to come along, he would never have gotten hurt! It's all her fault! Its-

And isa would hide his true feelings about the entire thing, just trying to cheer sif up by telling him how cool he is for being able to hold his own against that sadness, they that couldn't even damage... wait what? Why couldn't they damage it? Why could only sif damage it? Well that doesn't matter! Sif looks really cool now! He tries his best to help out the freaking out siffrin.

Odile on the other hand would take that thought and run with it. When she saw that when they tried to attack the sadness, not only did it not flinch, like at all, it's form also didn't even react! No small bits of water, nothing. And then there's the fact that whatever it did to siffrin is permanent and can't be healed, what it said was weird to, not to mention that IT COULD TALK? No something wasn't right here... they should really talk to siffrin later.

Yes! I am using some headcannons for this! Specifically the loop appeared before the loops and was just hiding, the loop being sap!sif but I made him worse, and one thing that's just true, is that odile will know that isa also saw the weird thing and will talk to them about it and everything.

[14thcommander]

best kept secret and your biggest mistake | hange zoe x reader

summary: your relationship with eren is a facade, and hange is your secret lover. they wish it was more than that, but they’ll take what you’ll give them. (inspired by nobody puts baby in the corner - fall out boy)

cw: smut, 18+ ONLY. angst, cheating, drinking, sex under influence of alcohol, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praise. afab!reader, they/them pronouns for hange zoe. the characters are flawed and reader has a personality. 

Parties have never been Hange’s scene.

Not in a superiority complex way – at least that’s what they like to think – it’s just that people aren’t really Hange’s thing. Although the consumption of alcohol has become an increasing habit in their life, the noise and social interaction are the worst parts of attending parties, they figure.

“Tch, can’t believe we’re being dragged to this shit.” Levi comments, rolling his eyes at his own boyfriend. The short man always seems to be stressed or annoyed, but this time it feels genuine. When it comes to his partner, though, it never lasts long – not really. “This is your fault, Erwin.”

Erwin Smith, ever the social butterfly and recognizable persona, is able to fluctuate through almost every social group in Mitras. Which is precisely the reason why they are entering Zeke Yeager’s birthday party, crossing the threshold of a luxurious two story house — Hange wonders if the guy isn’t a bit too old to throw parties like this anyway, but hey: it’s free alcohol. 

“Sorry eyebrows, gonna have to agree with your boyfriend.”

Erwin snorts at Hange’s words and Levi simply huffs in agreement. A typical conversation so far. The living room is crowded, the atmosphere pumps a generic pop song, and Hange already wants to leave. There are so many people Hange recognizes, realizing that they will have to greet most of them in order to be polite. They look around, scanning the room for something they know will hurt them. 

You.

“Don’t be so pessimistic, Levi.” The blond says, placing a hand on the brunette’s shoulder. The gesture is suggestive, something only lovers could share. “You’ll have fun, I’ll make sure of it.”

Hange scoffs at the scene before them, with a roll of their eyes and a bitter taste on their tongue.

“Ew, get a room, you guys are fucking disgusting.” They say, face contorting with faux discomfort. “I’m getting a drink.”

-

There’s a golden locket hanging from your neck, a collar as heavy as prison. The photo inside, blurry and bright, is of your boyfriend — which was an anniversary gift from last year, or something. The both of you are always breaking up anyway, so Hange doesn’t fully understand what the point of celebrating an anniversary really is. The jewelry doesn’t fool anyone when it comes to deceiving the mess that is your relationship. It isn’t like a necklace would make them forget how he treats you.

As if it would make you look away from his affair with Mikasa Ackerman. 

Hange can’t help but eye it, as it gleams viciously, almost as if inviting them to destroy it. Instead, they take another swing from the sweaty beer bottle in their hand. 

Everything about you is more complicated than it should be. Someone like you shouldn’t be dating Eren Yeager of all people — he’s petty, childish, the embodiment of everything you’re not. You are no saint either, however being with someone like Yeager is something that Hange takes as a personal offense. 

This is bullshit. All of it. 

“Gonna grab another beer. Want one?” Levi says, the baritone voice is somehow louder than the music that plays from somewhere in the living room. 

“Sure.”

It has been an hour or so since they have arrived, and Hange is a few beers deep in

Your boyfriend has a hand on your thigh, marking his territory just in case anyone dares to look at you with lust in their eyes. Hange fights the urge to punch him. This is bullshit. All of it. 

You mutter something to Eren, lips close to his jaw, pressing a kiss to it after you are finished speaking. Hange assumes it is something about wanting another drink. They wonder if your boy toy knows what you like, at all. For starters, you prefer silver — why would he gift you a locket that is fucking gold? 

-

Hange decides to go upstairs in order to escape from the hell that is this party, unable to watch that circus any longer. The house is crowded, causing the atmosphere to feel even worse. It’s almost claustrophobic.

And, for some unknown reason, your friends are into that. 

The bathroom — third door on the right — is thankfully empty. It is clean, too: no signs of drunken regret in the form of vomit. 

The luxurious bathroom is covered in marble with gold adjacents, from floor to ceiling. There is an enormous bathtub on the end of it. Hange if the Yeagers ran out of money when renovating the house: the bathroom is all marble but there isn’t fucking decent lighting. 

Hange locks the door, back pressed against it. They let out a sigh, something from deep in their lungs and even deeper in their heart. They adjust the thick oval glasses on the bridge of their nose, feeling emotionally exhausted after watching you play pretend with Eren.

“Fuck.” They mutter shortly before splashing their face with cold water, feeling droplets fall down their neck. It refreshes them, sure, but the sinking feeling in their stomach is still there. 

Objectively speaking, Hange knows it doesn’t have anything to do with them, or they are – the whole situation is entirely your fault. You are the one who is – allegedly – in a happy, committed relationship. Hange was merely caught in the crossfire of your desires. The jealousy that bubbles in their stomach every time they have to witness you kiss him is your fault. 

But they can’t bring themself to hate you for it. 

-

After all, is it greedy to want both of them? 

You dream of dark, charcoal eyes only to wake up to an ocean gaze staring at you. It is confusing, complicated. You wish you were not pulling and pushing, stuck in between two different worlds.

The party was becoming too much for you – too much noise, too many people. You go upstairs, to the second floor of the house, needing to get away from everything and everyone. Wondering if there is an option — begging for a sign from God — to escape all of this, your hand grabs the doorknob of the bathroom, only for it to twist magically.

And, on the other side of it, is Hange Zoe. Dimly illuminated, the first few buttons of their shirt undone, tanned skin glowing — almost reflecting, luring you in. 

“Oh.” Is all you can come up with. 

Standing face to face with the truth isn’t funny — or easy — in the slightest. The sight of Hange before you feels like the universe is taunting you with the possibility of a life you could have.

“Hi.” They greet you, voice as buttery as you remember. 

You are overwhelmed with flashbacks of car seats, foggy windows, whispered sweet nothings. The ghost of Hange’s mouth still sends chills down your spine.

And, here you are — red solo cup in hand, filled halfway with a nasty drink your own boyfriend made for you, apparently unable to know the basics of your likes and dislikes. The golden locket around your neck is so heavy, so heavy you almost drop to the ground and as your skin turns blue.

“Hey.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Hange is a few inches from you, and you can breathe in their scent, as it intoxicates your lungs. They smell of cologne, and a subtle undertone of cigarettes. You want to ask, since last time you talked they had quit the poisonous habit – it’s as awkward as it is already, though. 

You haven’t seen them in a month, since the last time you got back together with Eren. Hange took the message when you started ignoring their texts, and posted a picture with him again on your social media. Still, they don’t understand why. 

“How long are you planning on avoiding me?” They ask, shoulder leaning against the door frame. Because fuck this — fuck all of this. Fuck Eren Yeager and his superiority complex, and how he has the only thing Hange has ever truly wanted.

You.

Considering your options, you realize you have the chance to play dumb and pretend you don’t know what they are talking about. Except, this is Hange, who knows you better than anyone else in this world — who knows your soul and brain and heart like the palm of their hand. 

“Hange,” the sound of their name tastes unbelievably sour on your tongue. “You know. You know it’s complicated.”

They know this – at least that’s what they tell themself. Hange does their best to understand you, to feel empathy about your situation. Your relationship is obviously unhealthy, maintaining you in a chokehold. Eren always has a short leash around your neck – in the form of a gold necklace, mainly. He is always around, always with an arm snaked around your waist or a hand on your shoulder. Well, except when he sneaks around to cheat on you with Mikasa. 

“Is it?” Their words make your heart beat heavily against its organic cage, begging to be freed from its confines. “You say that every time, yet you won’t leave him. I thought you had a bit more self-respect than that, to be honest. You don’t seem like the person I met anymore. Not at all.”

They take a step towards you, bringing themself unbelievably close. 

“What happened to you, huh? Little Eren made you his pet?”

Their words drip with venom, poisonous and ready to kill. They want to hurt you as badly as you hurt them, but truly, they would not be able to do so. Hange is all bark, and no bite. You, on the other hand…

“Fuck you. Fuck you from even saying that.” There are stubborn tears threatening to spill from your eyes, a mixture of anger and plead.

Hange knows they might have gone too far, their words intended to stab you in the heart and apparently they did. Alcohol doesn’t suit their anger issues, after all. 

“Tell me to step away. Tell me to fuck off and I will. I’ll go downstairs and pretend I haven’t even seen you.”

You know they would do it, in case you requested — or better, ordered. These days, you wonder if there is anything Hange wouldn’t do for you. There’s a brief moment of silence, voices echoing from the party downstairs, music pumping through the walls. 

They move closer, so close, until their forehead is pressed against yours. 

“Hange.” You mumble their name like a confirmation, like a warning. What it implicates sits heavy in your stomach. 

It is messy, you don’t know who moves first, however your lips end up moving against theirs, with a synchrony that should be long forgotten.

The disgusting liquid that you were once holding ends up splattered on the floor. Your drink of gin, that tasted like kerosene, stands out on the marble floor. Someone would have to take care of it, but not right now. Not now, that your tongues are intertwined. Hange tastes like beer, and you probably taste like something similar.

And just like that, Eren Yeager’s empire falls, right into Hange’s hands. 

They grab your waist, moving you towards the dimly lit bathroom, in order to give a bit of privacy. Smoothly, Hange closes the door and presses your back against it, the rage of Hange burning from deep in their heart — you can feel it on your bones, in your marrow. You know this isn’t a hate fuck, but it isn’t making love either.

No, this is way more intense, as they press open mouthed kisses on the warm skin of your throat. They notice you still wear the same perfume they once complimented, and they can’t help but think it’s because of them. Hange can’t help but wonder about the impact they have in your life, or if they have any at all.

They whisper something that sounds like your name, and it sounds so different from how your boyfriend says you. In this very moment, with Hange gripping your hips tightly, canine teeth grazing the side of your neck, you feel no empathy for Eren. You feel no regret at all, and if that makes you an asshole, then so be it. Being a goody two shoes, a people pleaser, has never gotten you anywhere.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this.” Hange confesses, as they pull your skirt up, guiding you to lay in the empty bathtub, on the other corner of the bathroom.

“I know. I missed you too.” You reply in the form of something in between a whisper and a moan. It's not what they said at all, but you know they mean it anyways. 

Your tits are exposed, bra tossed somewhere on the ground. Your skirt is a puddle around your waist, panties moved to the side — the sight of your glossy cunt exposed to Hange, as they offer you a smile that isn’t nothing short of wolfish. 

“Aw princess, your cunt is so wet already. So messy.” The condescending tone drips from their voice like honey, much like the wetness that drips from you.

Biting their tongue, they fight the urge to ask, is it all for me?

They take a moment to appreciate your body, fingers dancing along your soft skin, occasionally running through scars, unevenness, and a birthmark. Details they want to remember for the rest of their life, but would much rather be reminded of those every chance they get to see you strip for them. 

“Please.” You whimper, as your hips buckle. 

They shush you, fingers lightly grazing your pussy, teasing you through your wetness.

“I know, baby. I’ll give it to you, I promise. Just be good for me, yeah?” They say, pressing kisses under your year, on your neck, towards your collarbone. “Think you can do it?”

You whimper in agreement. They’ll take it

“Gotta be quiet, or someone might notice.”

Digits find themselves playing with your cunt, spreading your inner lips apart as Hange presses a single finger against your entrance, touching you just enough to drive you crazy. It sends a white hot feeling through your body.

“So fucking pretty, princess. Prettiest goddamn pussy I’ve ever seen.”

Given Hange’s history, that means something. Even if it didn’t, the praise would still make your body sing underneath them. It’s hard to properly explain the effect they have on you. 

Their experienced fingers finally find their way inside you, as a thumb rubs against your clit. It’s magical, it’s heaven. If you could choose to die like this, you would. 

This right here should make Hange feel bad, overtaken by a sense of regret at least, but they can’t. Not when you look this good, moaning and whimpering and begging. You have a boyfriend, and they couldn’t care less. 

Their fingers start pumping in and out of you, slowly at first, but growing in speed. Hange knows just how you like it, they right amount of pressure to press on your clit, and curling their fingers inside of your cunt.

“Fuck, ohmygod.” You pant, dignity long forgotten. It’s shameless, you are horny like a fucking teenager, but it feels so good. “It’s so good.”

Hange swallows another moan from you, mouth pressed to yours messily, a mixture of tongue and teeth and spit. 

“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” They ask, not showing you any mercy, already lowering their body in between your legs. “You have no idea how much I missed this pretty pussy.”

“Please, please.” You whisper in response. “Need it, Hans. C’mon.”

They smile wickedly at you.

“Know you do.”

And then, finally — finally, they press open mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, careful to not leave any marks. If there isn’t any proof of your crimes against Eren, then he can’t hold it against you. This is how it works. 

You want all they can give you, unable to quit them. 

Tiny explosions spread through your entire body, as you grind your hips against Hange’s greedy mouth. Now, this is greed — the overwhelming lust, the need to make you theirs. 

The bubble of warmth on your lower abdomen only grows, threatening to pop at any given second. 

The way Hange takes care of you with subtle touches, making it clear that they pay attention to your every reaction brings a bittersweet taste to your tongue. The contrast between them and your boyfriend is even clearer, starkly obvious. This is too intense: a mixture of passion for your lover and regret for your relationship. Somehow, it feels similar to falling in love.

Your hands find home in Hange’s dark hair, like they have many times before. For some unknown reason, this time is bittersweet – perhaps, the emotions, the touches that are so fresh on your body, send you into sensory overload. Tears escape from your eyes, like a broken dam. 

Your mind is a mess, and so is your body – wetness clings to your inner thighs, a thin layer of sweat covering your entire body. 

Their name falls from your lips like a mantra, as if your body is solely devoted to Hange – no one, not even Eren, is capable of earning such a reaction from you

You are so close – your hands pull on Hange’s hair lightly, just enough for them to moan into your cunt. Their teeth lightly graze your clit, sucking it like their life depends on it. The Earth stutters on its axis as you come, the bubble of warmth on your lower abdomen finally exploding, creating a mess out of you. Your legs tremble in pleasure, as Hange carries you through your height. 

It is quiet for a while, only your heavy breathing and the bass of music bumping from downstairs creating noise around you. Hange helps you get dressed, adjusting their hair and glasses shortly after. It isn’t silent, however wordless – an old choreography you have smoothly executed many times before. 

But, really, what is Hange supposed to say? See you next time? Can’t wait to do this again? Is this-

“I’ll leave him.” You mutter, while fixing your makeup in front of the mirror, attempting to clean it in the dim light. You look at them through the mirror, fixing your smudged eyeliner as you do so. It is still unclear if your boyfriend knows about your escapades with Hange, but you make sure to return to him as impeccably as you arrived to them. Maybe it’s better this way. 

They scoff once again. You sound like a broken record at this point, and they are tired of believing you. 

“I will-”

“Yeah, you said that last time.”

You sigh, turning around to look where they stand behind you, with a shoulder pressed against the door. Supporting your body against the sink, your gaze falls to the ground. 

“I mean it. I’ll leave him. I don’t know when, or how, but I will.”

Hange sighs.

“Alright.” They turn to you, one last time before opening the door. “But you gotta do this for you, not for me.”

With that, Hange leaves you – you wonder if this is what they felt after the countless times you were the one to leave them.

[espers-n-espurrs]

OFFSCREEN POST

Olive Branch

TWs // CWs : Hospitals, Discussions of Child Death, Discussions of Kidnapping / Child Abduction, Panic Attacks, Violence, Injury, Gore, Blood

Connected to Connecting Roots and Uprooted.

No one liked being in the hospital. 

It was mind-numbing and draining, having to stay in one little room for days on end all the while doctors and nurses poked and prodded at you. It wasn’t just the medical staff that had been bothering Esper though. Police and other official looking people came and went, asking her questions that made her uncomfortable and forced her to reevaluate so much about what she knew. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like being told she was “safe now”, she didn’t like being told she was “in good hands”, she didn’t like how they talked about her da and mum, she didn’t like any of it. 

Esper stared up at the ceiling with an unfocused gaze, listening to the ticking of the clock. Her face almost seemed ghostly pale if not for her reddened cheeks and nose from hours of crying accompanied by the deep bags beneath her eyes from lack of sleep. Her hair was out of its braid, white threads spooled around her in messy strands like the roots of a tree, branching off into different paths. She looked like a mess.

Everything was out of her hands. She didn’t get a choice in any of this. Her entire life had changed in a matter of days and she wasn’t sure how she was meant to feel. Her da and mum had lied to her. They had been lying to her for so long. And yet she couldn’t even begin to understand how she felt about it all. Was she angry? Sad? Happy?

A small knock on the door cut through her thoughts.

Esper’s head slowly turned toward the door, her brows furrowing slightly in aggravation. It was probably more pushy cops coming to ask her about her da. Fucking wonderful.

With a roll of her eyes she called out to them, “Come in.”

The door creaked open slightly to reveal an exhausted-looking Victoria. Despite her attempts to appear composed, the stress lines and dark circles beneath her eyes betrayed any semblance of imperturbability. Clearly, the recent revelations had been taking as much of an emotional toll on her as they had on Esper.

Esper gasped as she snapped into a sitting position, “Tor–!” She was swiftly cut off as a sharp pain shot through her chest, causing her to double over in the bed, her arms wrapping tightly around her torso as she let out a hiss of pain. “I… I shouldn’t have done that…”

Victoria instinctively lunged forwards and reached a hand out to her, but slowed herself the moment she realized Esper was not immediately dying in front of her. “Are…” She began to ask something, but trailed off with a pause before saying, “I was going to ask if you were alright, but I suppose that would be a bit redundant of me, now would it?”

The white haired girl slowly sat back up, wincing as she let out a small laugh, “Just– Just a bit, I think.” Esper looked at Victoria with a small smile, “Though I’m not the most happy about people seeing me in such a state… with my hair being down and all.”

“Oh. I can leave if you—”

“I’m joking, Tori.”

To Esper’s surprise, Victoria chuckled with a slight smile. “I thought you were—” She instantly shut her mouth right before the punchline, her face falling into a frown. She looked at her friend with an unsure tilt of her head.

“Esper.” The girl stated without hesitation, “I want to be called Esper. Or, as you have been calling me, Esp.”

“Right.” The young heiress drew in a quiet breath and nodded. “Then… Esp it shall be.”

Esper smiled in turn. She wasn’t ready to be Estelle, she didn’t know if she ever could be. It was strange really, finding out that your name isn’t your name, at least not in the way you thought it was. But she could understand why her da did it, at least from his point of view, it would’ve made everything easier for him if she didn’t have her legal name. 

Though that did make her wonder…

“Why the hells didn’t my da change my brother's first name?” Esper suddenly asked aloud, tilting her head to the ceiling in thought, “Why’d he keep his first name?”

Victoria shifted uncomfortably on her feet, uncertain of how to respond. 

Esper continued, “And it’s not like I can fuckin’ ask him since he fuckin’ vanished after the second Darkest Day…”

“Vanished…?”

Esper blinked in response, turning her attention back to Victoria before glancing away with an awkward chuckle as if it was funny, “Ah– Yeah. I was the last one to see him that day, he found me during the chaos and promised to go get help. He… uh… never did. No one’s found him so we don’t know what happened to him.”

The other girl’s brows furrowed. “Forgive me for asking, but how are you so certain that he never sought help?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean like he didn’t try–” Esper vaguely gestured with her hand, “It’s just that my da and authorities were the ones to find me and Juno. And they hadn’t been told by Flynn that we were there, so they tried to interview anyone they could and no one stepped forward about having been spoken to by Flynn during the disaster. So, he may have tried, though he never actually managed to get help.”

She tilted her head. “Juno?”

“I– I should just give the rundown.” Esper responded, shifting in her bed to get more comfortable before continuing on, “So. Juno was my closest friend in Spikemuth and we spent a lot of time together. On the day of the big championship match, he was over at my old flat. It was just him, me, his Nickit named Polaris, and my da’s Obstagoon named Maverick. We were having a good time until, well, the second Darkest Day started in which Maverick… was one of the Pokemon to dynamax.”

Victoria winced slightly. “In… the house?”

“In the flat building… yeah.” The girl nodded as she began to fidget with her gown, “With both me, Juno, and his Nickit in the flat with him. And so many others in their neighboring flats…” 

She thought back to that day. Roars and calls of Pokemon shook the earth around her, echoing throughout Spikemuth and the surrounding area. The weight of concrete and brick crushed her body so tightly that she could barely fill her lungs with the dust-filled air. Metal debris pricked at her skin, jabbing at her sides and mudding her hair with crimson. She couldn’t move, she could barely cry out as all her energy was dedicated to keeping her alive and awake.

If only Juno could’ve been as lucky. 

He was alive for a while, whispering promises of life and safety to Esper in the darkness of their prison, though his body laid frighteningly still as crimson slowly pooled around him. His mind and body grew weaker by the second. He had been impaled when the building collapsed on top of them— a large, jagged piece of rusted metal had been lodged straight through his shoulder and into the debris below. Polaris was curled up to his side, beaten and battered as much as the two children, chirping and crying to his trainer. 

She remembered the way Juno’s eyes grew duller by the hour. Until they were cloudy and lifeless.

Victoria looked past the girl before her with a thousand-yard stare. The ticking second hand on the clock came to a stop, filling the room with a discomforting silence.

“We were trapped for nearly the whole day– But Flynn found us early on. He promised to go get help and… well… he never came back.” Esper let out a shaky breath, her face feeling hot, “And by the time help did arrive… Juno had been dead for several hours.”

The other girl shut her eyes and turned her head away, reaching a trembling hand to her chest. “Excuse me for a moment, Esper.” She took several deep breaths until her hands stopped shaking and the stress lifted from her face. The clock resumed its ticking, returning the familiar ambiance to the once silent room. 

After a moment, Victoria cleared her throat with a wince and gestured to her head. “Um— Mind-reading.”

Esper blinked before flushing red, waving her hands frantically, “Ah– I’m sorry– I forgot– I’m sorry I’ll just stop now I’m sorry–” The girl promptly tried to fill her mind with other things such as memories of Fauna and Deerling.

“No, no, it is through no fault of your own,” Victoria tried to reason with her. “It simply caught me off-guard is all.”

“Are you sure…?” Esper looked up at her with big eyes.

“Positive. You needn’t apologize, Esp.”

“Okay…” The girl nodded in return, “I was done anyways though. That’s about everything… Well not… everything… but all the really important things.”

“I see,” she said, finally turning to look back at her friend. “If I may be so bold to ask, do you… think Flynn is…?”

“Alive? Dead?” Esper hesitantly shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t know which I would rather, which would hurt less… If Flynn is dead then… he’s gone. But if he’s alive… then he left me to die.”

Before Victoria had time to respond, there was a knock at the door.

The girl raised an eyebrow, then looked to Esper. “Are you expecting company?”

Esper huffed in response, grimacing at the door, “No. It’s probably another officer or doctor or something. Let me just–” She raised her chin to the door and called out, “Come in!”

The door slowly opened to reveal a lanky man in a black and green jacket, his hood pulled tightly over his head and casting his face in shadow. His attire was worn and dirty and his demeanor seemed akin to a kicked dog with how he hunched in on himself and how his hands trembled at his sides. He hesitantly stepped into the room, closing the door behind him before turning in the direction of the two girls in an awkward fashion. 

Esper and Victoria exchanged glances for a moment, then eyed the man wearily.

The man stood there silently for a minute, staring at Esper specifically for an agonizingly long before clearing his throat, “So– Um–”

At that moment, a flash of recognition and utter hatred crossed Victoria’s face. An invisible force suddenly yanked the man towards the girl while she winded up her fist and connected it directly into the center of his face. The force of her punch snapped his glasses in half and knocked the hood off of his head.

Flynn Wyrmwood was knocked to the ground, clutching his nose in pain.

With a snarl, Victoria looked down at the man and hissed, “Hablando del rey de Roma, por la puerta asoma.” She raised her leg to stomp—

“VICTORIA–” Esper shouted. “DO NOT… stomp… on….” Her voice trailed off as she looked down at the older boy. A boy with darker skin than hers and yet had the same pure white hair and lavender eyes with white pupils shining brightly. Esper repeated, her heart leaping into her throat as she took in the sight of the boy, “Victoria. Stop.”

The young heiress looked back towards her friend, then to the coward at her feet. She narrowed her eyes at him, but gently lowered her foot to the floor and stepped away. “Get up,” she spat at him. A sudden force lifted him off the ground and flipped him onto his feet— not too kindly, however. The momentum from the flip threw him forwards and he bashed his face into the side of the hospital bed. 

Flynn grunted in pain, barely managing to catch his footing before slowly dragging himself into a standing position, blood dripping from his nose. “Yeah– Yeah no– I deserved that–”

“Indeed you do,” Victoria cut him off.

“Victoria. Stop harming him.” Esper scolded before turning her attention to the bloodied boy infront of her, her eyes scanning his face. It was him. It was actually him. He was alive. He… he was alive. 

That hurt.

“Esper…” Flynn stared back at her, seemingly also studying her. A ragged breath left him as he spoke, “You’re alive.”

“You left me.”

“I know. I’m sorry–”

Esper cut him off, her chest tightening, “You left me to die. You left Juno and I to die.”

“I’m sor–”

“Juno is dead!” Esper spat. Tears had begun to well up in her eyes, “And you’re alive.”

Victoria glared silent daggers at Flynn. If looks could kill, he’d have perished where he stood.

He paused, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again and looking down in shame, “I’m sorry…”

The white-haired girl stared at her brother in silence for a while. The ticking of the clock was the only indication that time hadn’t stopped. 

“Why now?”

Her brother looked up at her, blinking.

“You had plenty of chances to come back. And yet you didn’t.” Esper asked, her body aching as emotions welled up inside her.

Flynn glanced away, “I… I was scared. I am scared. Father scared me, I was scared if I came back or told anyone then…”

“You knew.”

“I…” He winced, “I did. Yes.”

“You knew the entire time.” Esper’s gaze was hundreds of miles away, “That’s why he didn’t change your name.”

Flynn only nodded in response.

The white-haired girl gripped her blanket between her hands. Her thoughts became foggy with all the questions she wanted to ask him, but one stayed at the forefront of her mind.

“Why are you here?” She asked. “Da is gone now, you could no longer be a missing person.”

Flynn took a deep breath and looked his sister in the eye, “I… I wanted to give you the choice on if I did or not…”

“What?”

“I hurt you, Esper,” her older brother swallowed, “I hurt you a lot. I didn’t want to suddenly come stomping all over it again. So I wanted to give you that choice.” He wiped the blood from his nose as he knelt down by her bedside, “Do I come back home or do I go back to whatever hole I crawled out of?”

Victoria furrowed her brows and wrinkled her nose at him.

“I…” Esper trailed off, staring down at her brother with teary eyes. Why was she being asked to choose? Why did she have to make that choice? Why was this the only choice she’s been allowed during this whole fiasco? Why this of all things? She hadn’t seen her brother in nearly two years, she had thought he was dead somewhere, possibly eaten by some Pokemon or the like. But… here he was. Asking her to make a life-altering choice for him.

She felt sick.

“I…” The girl blinked, tears running down her face before she sharply turned away from her brother. As she spoke her voice seemed almost devoid of emotion. Almost. “Stop being missing... Come out of hiding… You…” She glared at him from the corner of her eye, “You don’t get to run from this.”

Her brother gave a small smile. Tears began to run down his face, dripping onto his now bloodstained jacket. “I won’t. I promise.”

Scene End.

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

Victoria belongs to @victoria-vd

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 124]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54 Part 55

I have been sick as a dog since I last worked on this story. I'm not even doing any work today lol. I just want to get this chapter finished. Will probably do a couple rounds and then cook myself dinner, so there may be a gap at some point. Mostly I'll just be, like, reading when not posting. Wish me luck.

“Good day for a picnic,” Helen commented as she handed over the basket Thomas had requested from her a few days before. He was taking Logan, Patton, and Virgil to the cliffs today and it was perfect weather for it. Spring was truly here, which meant that those of Thomas’s duties that had laid dormant over the harsh winter were about to start up again.

The world had been on pause for a bit considering no armies or agents from any kingdom could get through the snow the last few months, but the concerns of last fall were showing their heads once again.

Thomas had just gotten word a day ago that the queen of Lamir had routed out a second assassin hiding in her ranks over the winter. The assassin had been sent shortly after it was made clear that the queen wouldn’t bow down after the assassination of her mother. Luckily, the assassin sent for Queen Cecil had not managed to complete her mission during the winter months.

While there had been no similar attempt on Prijaznia soil, Thomas couldn’t help but feel it was only a matter of time now that the snow had melted. They were already working on increasing security in the coming weeks and, though it was doubtful an assassin had managed to hide in the castle all winter without revealing themselves, they’d be closely scrutinizing all of the newer staff members.

It would be a stressful time in the coming months, which is why, despite everything Thomas needed to do, he was still going to take his son and his son’s friends on a picnic today. Logan had already started taking on royal duties as of late, but he still hadn’t taken them all on quite yet. Considering this was last summer before Logan was of age, they should at least try to take advantage of it where they could. Patton was a year younger, but the sentiment held for him as well.

Then there was Virgil. Despite their best efforts, they still didn’t know enough about Virgil, but Thomas was fairly sure he’d never had a summer to enjoy until now.

“Thanks for prepping lunch for us,” Thomas said to Helen with a smile.

“No problem,” she said waving them off. “I put in some of Virgil’s favorites.”

“Great,” Thomas said. “Do you know where the kids are?”

“Patton said they were going to go pet the cats, so I’d guess they’re in the gardens.”

Thomas thanked her again and told her to have a good day before exiting the kitchen. There was a nearby door that led straight towards the part of the gardens Patton and Logan had always favored. He figured they’d either still be around there, or they would have wandered towards the stables by now knowing that they’d be taking horses to the cliffs. So, he decided to simply walk the normal path from the door to the stable, hoping to find them.

His prediction ended up being hilariously correct. They were indeed on the path Thomas had chosen. It was clear they (or at least Logan) were attempting to make it to the stable. However, as was typical, a portion of the party had been waylaid by whimsy.

Logan was standing further down the path, arms crossed and frowning as he watched his friends. Patton and Virgil were surrounded by cats. Patton was sitting down, holding two of them in his lap and watching Virgil’s legs being swarmed by the rest of them, maybe two dozen in total.

Virgil looked confused, but not unhappy about the presence of so many cats. He was leaning down to try to pet them all.

Logan met Thomas’s eyes as he approached and waved a frustrated hand at the two of them. Logan couldn’t help but smile.

“Virgil fed one of them,” Logan complained as though he wanted Thomas to somehow go into the past and prevent this crime.

Patton and Virgil looked over at Thomas, noticing him when Logan addressed him.

“You’re going to make Princess Marisol jealous,” Thomas said. Logan frowned at Thomas as he used the ‘Princess’ label for the cat.

“Princess Marisol decided not to come,” Virgil said with a shrug. He continued to pet one of the cats.

“She’s probably sleeping on my pillow,” Logan said, sounding grumpy.

Thomas just chuckled. Princess Marisol was technically Logan’s cat, at least that’s what the kids said, and she did spend much of her time in the royal rooms. However, she was very clearly actually Virgil’s cat. Virgil just spent a lot of time in the royal wing as well.

In fact, Thomas still didn’t know where Virgil was supposed to be sleeping. He and Mr. Deknis had gone so far as to tail him a couple of times, but he always ended up sleeping in Logan’s room those nights.

Knowing Virgil, he might just sleep in the walls. Though that still did not answer the question of where his parents or guardians were. They still had not figured it out. Thomas would assume he was an orphan who’d snuck onto castle grounds for safety, but Virgil had told Mr. Deknis during their first meeting that he was supposed to be in the castle, and it had not been a lie.

Then again, it had slowly become apparent that Virgil was good at dodging the multrum’s powers. It was starting to seem more likely that he’d somehow inserted a second meaning into his answer to Mr. Deknis that night than he somehow had some ghost guardian no one was able to locate working in the castle.

“She deserves the pillow more than you,” Virgil said, bringing Thomas’s thoughts back to the situation at hand. The look of audacity on Logan’s face made Thomas chuckle.

Thomas cut in before it could become a fight. “I could get Princess Marisol a pillow, so she doesn’t sleep on yours. Or we can get you a new pillow if you’d prefer, Logan.”

“It’s not about the pillow for her,” Logan argued. “It’s about her inflated sense of superiority.”

“She deserves it,” Virgil declared. Thomas could tell he was just trying to rile Logan up, and Thomas was sure Logan knew it too, but still his son reacted exactly in the way Virgil wanted him to.

“You have enabled and encouraged this behavior from the start!” Logan seethed.

“She’s a princess.”

“She is not a princess!”

Patton shook his head while squeezing the cats in his arms, completely used to this behavior. He ran a chin idly over one of the cat’s heads while watching the argument.

“We’re never going to make it to the picnic at this rate,” Thomas said to him, “and after your mother made all of this wonderful food.”

“You’re the dad,” Patton said. “Make them stop.”

And, of course, Patton did just mean that he was Logan’s dad with that statement. However, when he glanced back up at the silly argument still going on between his son and the cat covered boy, it did almost look like a fight between siblings.

Especially with the dark hair and stubborn but mischievous look in Virgil’s eyes, Thomas could almost imagine the boy being his own child.

He shook away the thoughts and glanced at the picnic basket in his hand.

“We do have a lot of food in this basket,” Thomas said, pitching his voice up so that Logan (and more importantly) Virgil would hear them clearly.

Virgil immediately turned to look at him, abandoning all interest in antagonizing Logan to look at the basket curiously.

Thomas was never sure if he should be amused or worried about how food motivated Virgil often was.

“What’s in the basket?” Virgil asked.

“I’m not sure,” Thomas said. “Patton’s mom made it. We’ll just have to see once we get to the picnic area.”

Virgil nodded in understanding and began to gently extract himself from the droves of cats. Logan rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem inclined to continue the argument he’d been dragged into. Virgil and Patton got to their feet, and they continued on their way towards the stables.

The horses Thomas had requested be prepared for their trip were already in saddles, though the stable hand who had been handling Mr. Apples seemed a bit dirtier and more exhausted than the rest.

The stable hand seemed as happy to hand Mr. Apples over to Virgil as Virgil was to have Mr. Apples handed over to him. Thomas received Bella with a smile and Logan and Patton got their own horses as well.

The cliffs were about half an hour's ride from the main castle. There was a mostly well-maintained path to them, though it was easy to get lost if one didn’t know the way. Mr. Apples knew the way perhaps better than Thomas himself and seemed annoyed by the fact that Thomas was trying to lead the way. Virgil and Thomas ended up side-by-side whenever the path allowed it to placate him.

Thomas still marveled at how willing Mr. Apples was to let Virgil ride him, especially when he tossed his head in Thomas’s direction, a horse’s equivalent of giving Thomas a stink-eye.

“Are you excited for the picnic?” Thomas asked the boy beside him.

Virgil glanced over at him and nodded.

“I am too,” Thomas said. “It’s always beautiful this time of year. I’m glad I could find the time to take you all there this year.”

“Are you very busy?” Virgil asked curiously.

“I am king,” Thomas reminded, “and now that the world isn’t snowed in anymore things will be busy.”

“With the war?” Virgil asked.

Thomas paused for a few seconds. “Yes,” he confirmed. ���With the war, but you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Virgil asked.

“You’re just a kid,” Thomas said.

“I’m 14,” Virgil said.

Thomas glanced at him. “Exactly,” he said, “a kid, and luckily, you’re in a place that can afford you the luxury of being one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The war has been mainly fought on Mocnejsi soil in recent years. Our boarders have held strong against invasions. Unless something goes horribly wrong suddenly, it would take a long time for the main conflict to get here. The only real threat in the castle would be assassins sent after me personally.”

“Right,” Virgil said. There was an awkward pause in conversation before he spoke again. “You’re winning the war then?” he asked.

“Something could always happen,” Thomas said, “but for the most part, yes, we have quite the advantage right now.”

“Oh,” Virgil said.

Thomas shook his head as they were coming up to a narrowing of the path. “Anyway, today is a day to not think about war. Today we’re going to have a lovely picnic and do some bird watching.”

“Right,” Virgil agreed from behind Thomas as Bella took the lead (to Mr. Apples discontent.)

When the path widened again, Thomas did his best to direct the topic to lighter subjects and soon they made it to the cliffs.

Chapter 57 (Virgil)

Virgil had never been to a picnic. At least, that’s what Patton had informed him when Virgil had described his past experiences of eating outdoors. Logan had agreed even though he’d admitted that the definition of “picnic” was only eating a pre-packaged meal outdoors which Virgil had done plenty of times.

From what Virgil could tell, the main difference was just how much stuff one brought to a picnic.

In addition to the basket full of food (that Virgil still hadn’t gotten to look in yet), the king had brought a large soft quilt that he had Logan and Virgil spread out on the ground for them all to sit on.

Patton and Logan had also packed some things themselves to bring along. Logan had brought along a book to read, and Patton had brought along a board game (thankfully not checkers but something Virgil did not recognize). Virgil hadn’t brought anything (except for the fire knife he was definitely not supposed to have and was definitely not letting the king see) because he hadn’t known he was supposed to bring things. He wouldn’t have known what to bring anyway.

The blanket was soft and a much better alternative to sitting on the ground, especially because, while there was grass at the top of The Cliffs, there were also a good number of rocks.

The king set the picnic basket in the middle of the blanket once it was spread out and then lowered himself down to sit on one side. Patton quickly followed him, already fiddling with some of his board game pieces, though he wasn’t setting it up yet. Virgil highly doubted that Logan was going to be allowed to read his book unless Patton eventually got bored of the game.

However, they would, hopefully, be allowed to make use of the basket the king had brought along.

Virgil followed the king and Patton’s lead and got to his knees on the blanket across the picnic basket from the king. He peered at the basket curiously.

He didn’t quite know what picnic food was, but Patton had told them they’d be getting ‘picnic food’ and he was very curious about what that meant.

King Thomas smiled at him. “Let’s see what Patton’s mom packed us, huh?” He reached for the basket and flipped it open as Logan sat next to Virgil. “There is a lot more food than usual in here,” the king said, sounding amused. “Let’s see.”

He began to pull out packaged food and glanced in each package to identify it before setting it out.

“We have a few types of mini sandwiches,” he said, putting them down, “and some pasta salad.” He set down the bowl.

“We also have… er something else.” He showed it to Logan.

“They’re hot cauliflower bites,” Logan said instantly upon seeing them. Virgil perked up in excitement. That was one of his favorite foods.

“Ah,” King Thomas said, but shrugged and set it down. “We also have two desserts apparently: cookies and mini apple pies. That last one’s a bit extra for a picnic.”

“They’re very good,” Virgil said happily.

“And we also have.” King Thomas paused, looking confused. “Chicken alfredo?”

“Yes!” Virgil said.

“Why do we have chicken alfredo for a picnic?”

“It’s a Virgil picnic,” Logan groaned. “She packed us a Virgil picnic.”

“Hey, at least momma sent us something too,” Patton said.

“I think I’ll stick to sandwiches for today,” King Thomas said. He looked at Patton and Logan. “Do either of you want…?”

“No,” Logan said. Patton shook his head.

The king nodded and offered the entire covered bowl of chicken alfredo to Virgil. “Here, this one’s yours,” he said.

“Really?” Virgil asked tentatively. It wasn’t exactly strange for people here to offer him food, and he’d expected and anticipated getting to eat on this venture, but the king of the country offering him an entire bowl of his favorite food was something else.

“It’s not really my idea of a picnic food and you seem excited for it,” King Thomas said with a warm smile, still holding it out.

Virgil took it reverently. Despite the time it had taken to get to the cliffs, the bottom of the container was still warm. Virgil assumed it was one of the heating spells the kitchen sometimes used.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, setting it in his lap.

“Of course, Virgil,” the king said.

The bowl was enough for four people to have a little bit, but for one person it was a lot. Still, Virgil was offered a little of every other food in the picnic basket (and he ate a good number of the hot cauliflower bites).

“Where do you put all of that?” the king asked when Virgil finished polishing off the chicken alfredo bowl.

Everyone else seemed to have finished eating long before Virgil, though Patton still had a small plate of grapes, and he occasionally popped one in his mouth. King Thomas was currently setting up the board game they’d brought on the blanket between all of them.

Virgil shrugged in answer to his question. “It’s good,” he said, “and I don’t want to waste any of it.”

“You know we can just take the leftovers back to the castle and eat them later,” King Thomas said. “You don’t have to eat it all now.”

Virgil just shrugged again, watching as the king set out a group of 8 figures on the board.

“Here, which character do you want to be?” the king asked Virgil, gesturing at the group of figures. Virgil had not noticed the figures were different at first glance. They were all copper colored and about the size of his thumb, but they had slightly different shapes. He squinted at them each carefully, finding they all looked like people, but with different clothing. Some worse pants and some skirts, a few had hats, and one was even carrying a book.

After a few moments, he pointed at one that looked like it had vines wrapped around its arms and was wearing a floppy hat that almost covered its eyes.

“That’s the druid,” King Thomas told him with a grin. “Good choice, and luckily not one that anyone usually fights over.” He glanced at Logan who didn’t react to his father’s gaze. He just plucked the figure clutching the book off the board for himself.

Patton and the king picked pieces for themselves. Patton picked one with an apron that kind of reminded Virgil of his mom and the king picked one that was in a suit of armor before putting the other 4 figures away.

Unlike checkers, this game wasn’t just for two people, and so no one had to sit watching people play while bored out of their mind.

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They played a practice round so Virgil could figure out how the game worked, though honestly it wasn’t that complicated, so it wasn’t really necessary.

The theme of the game was all about stealing. They were supposed to steal special tokens from other players as well as characters in the game and the first person with 20 tokens won.

The other three players argued that stealing was not the point and not the main mechanism of the game, but considering Virgil was consistently winning the entire time, he would argue they were just playing it wrong. He managed to collect 20 tokens before anyone else. In second place at this time was Logan with 9 tokens.

Logan insisted on continuing to play the game to determine 2nd and 3rd place, so Virgil ended up watching them play for a bit. Virgil didn’t mind sitting and watching other people play this game, mostly because he still had the joy of victory running in his veins.

Thomas was definitely going to lose, he noted. He kept wasting his money feeding the nonplayer characters who lived on his lands. Virgil didn’t mention this faulty strategy to him in case Virgil ever played him again.

When Logan took too long thinking about his next move, Virgil took in their surroundings.

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He’d been a bit too distracted by the prospect of food and then trying to understand (and then win) the game to truly take in The Cliffs. They were settled a good distance away from the cliffside but Virgil could still see how quickly the edge dropped off. He couldn’t see the large river he was told was at its base from where he was sitting, but he did see a few of the promised wild birds (including doves) flying around. The king had promised they’d bird watch for a bit, and Virgil figured that would happen after the game was over.

A cool spring breeze brushed across Virgil’s face, and he put his hand in his hoodie pockets to warm them. Instead, his fingers hit something icy cold.

For a moment, he didn’t remember what it was. The crescent shape of it was familiar when he put his hand over it, but he had never felt it cold before.

It was the protection charm: the first charm Virgil had ever made with Logan so many months ago. It was meant to ward off small threats as well as warn you about larger threats by changing temperature…

It had always been warm.

“What?” Patton asked, having noticed Virgil suddenly tense. Virgil, despite how he drilled into his friend’s heads to stay alert had gone soft. He’d let himself be distracted by a full belly and warm blankets and fun games.

He didn’t answer Patton. He filtered the other boy’s worried face out as well as Logan’s face as he glanced at him and the king’s still focused on the game for now. He filtered out the picnic blanket and smell of food still lingering in the air and the vine covered figure set in the middle of the board on the winner’s space. He filtered out the sound of the breeze and the breath of his companions and the distant chirping of birds.

And he heard a whoosh.

Chapter 58 (Patton)

If Patton hadn’t already been looking, he probably wouldn’t have had any idea what happened.

Everything had been fine. Virgil had been sitting cross legged, idly watching the conclusion of the game they’d been playing when his posture had suddenly changed. Patton had looked over at him only to see an expression on his face he didn’t recognize, but it didn’t seem good.

“What?” Patton had asked, but the question didn’t seem to register to Virgil.

Logan had glanced up confused and also noticed Virgil’s face. He’d just opened his mouth to also ask what was going on when chaos descended.

Virgil was suddenly moving, crashing into King Thomas who hadn’t even looked up to see something was wrong at that point. Patton realized after the fact that Virgil had swiped up the board of the game they’d been playing as he jumped over it, the pieces previously stacked on it scattering all over the blanket. There were three thumps as some things hit the thick board, imbedding themselves into the surface.

When Virgil discarded the board in favor of the picnic basket, Patton saw there were small darts in it oozing a dark black liquid. The parts of the board they touched were dissolving, the grass under the new holes beginning to wilt rapidly.

Logan seemed to notice the oozing liquid the same moment Patton did and was quicker to realize what it was. He grabbed Patton’s arm and yanked him away from the board so hard he almost dislocated Patton’s shoulder, not that Patton was too worried about that. He scrambled away from it when he realized what it must be himself.

He could hear the sound of glassware smashing above them. Logan and Patton had rolled off the blanket in their quest to get away from the smoldering, melting board and apparently Virgil had pulled the picnic blanket fully over the king at some point.

Virgil himself was now gone from where he’d been the last time Patton had looked and it took him a moment to figure out where the boy had gone. The person who had been shooting poisoned darts at them had been drawn out of the wooded area they’d been hiding in by Virgil’s attacks.

They were cloaked in dark green from head to toe, explaining why they’d been difficult to spot when they were in the woods. Whoever they were, they were significantly larger than Virgil, possibly an actual adult or almost adult assassin, but they were also clearly a long distant fighter. They had not been expecting resistance let alone resistance in the form of a so quick he was almost a blur fellow assassin.

They had a bow strapped to their back, but they hadn’t had a chance to get it. Instead, they were trying to fight Virgil off with an arrow they’d managed to draw from their quiver. Virgil, meanwhile was lunging at them with a broken piece of plate in one hand and the picnic basket in the other.

Virgil dodged out of the way of the arrow striking towards his arm, though Patton didn’t think it was because he was afraid of getting scratched by an arrow, but because it may also be poisoned tipped.

Virgil was distracted by dodging for long enough that the older assassin managed to hit him in the face with the arm not holding the arrow.

He went down, but he took the older assassin with him, sweeping their legs out from under them. Patton hadn’t noticed (his mind working too slow for how fast they were moving) but they were on a slight incline. They went rolling in a tangle of arms and legs towards the edge of the cliff and skidded to a stop only a few feet away.

Virgil ended up on top, his piece of broken plate in his hands. He moved to slash it across the other assassin’s throat and managed to draw blood, but the assassin’s fist came out to shove at Virgil’s chest at just the right moment, causing the strike to veer off course and slice across the assassin’s cheek instead.

Virgil jerked to the side to avoid a second strike to the chest and went back for another slash. The other assassin rolled to the side as he did and the plate only managed to nick their ear. The point of the motion hadn’t been to dodge, however. They were lunging for the arrow they’d dropped a few feet away while they’d rolled. They grabbed it with their right hand and in the same motion stabbed back behind them towards Virgil.

Virgil rolled to avoid the hit, already slashing up with his plate as the assassin turned back towards him.

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He didn’t hit them this time but his swipe managed to stop them from stabbing him when they tried again. They shoved themselves back to avoid Virgil’s swing, putting a bit of distance between them. Both of them managed to make it to their feet during the momentary reprieve, but both also stayed crouched, eyeing each other.

They both lunged towards each other at the same time. The assassin went for a stab to Virgil’s neck with the arrow, but Virgil was already ducking down. This time, he wasn’t going for a kill shot. He grabbed the assassin’s wrist and at the same time drove his piece of plate into the assassin’s arm, slicing down from the elbow to wrist. The assassin spoke for the first time, cursing in a language Patton didn’t recognize as they were forced to drop their arrow.

Virgil took a moment to kick the arrow away from the assassin and it ended up falling off the cliff.

However, this pause gave the assassin enough time to regroup. Despite their arm bleeding profusely, they still decided to use it to backhand Virgil across the face viciously, leaving a long line of their own blood across his face.

Virgil lunged back forward, but the assassin was able to get a leg between them, kicking Virgil squarely in the chest and sending him flying back a few feet parallel to the cliff’s edge.

The assassin went to grab their bow and another arrow from the quiver still strapped to their shoulder.

Virgil, however, apparently went for another weapon too and he was much faster with a knife than any archer. A knife appeared in his hand, having been strapped to his ankle and was embedded into the assassin’s chest before they could even full remove an arrow from their quiver.

The assassin promptly burst into flames, fire catching their clothes (and from the smell of it their skin) ablaze. Panicked and dying, they stumbled two steps to the side. They stepped directly off the cliff.

There was a second of silence. They heard the sound of the body hitting the ground far below and then the flap of wings and screeching as birds below fled from the startling sound (and possible soon to be forest fire).

…

“Uh, Virgil?” King Thomas said. He had managed to get the blanket off his head at some point. When, Patton didn’t know, but seeing any of it was probably enough.

Oopsie.

Chapter 59 (Logan)

Logan and Patton had been useless during the fight, but that may have been for the best. Considering the skill differential when it came to fighting (and that differential had never been as clear as it was in this moment), that was probably for the best. They likely would have just gotten in the way.

The moment Logan’s father spoke, however, they both jumped into action.

They both knew their jobs in a situation like this. Patton pushed himself up to his feet ungracefully and all but sprinted over towards Virgil. Logan, on the other hand stood to face his father, putting himself very purposefully between the man who had no idea what was going on yet and the boy who was two seconds away from remembering what was going on.

“I can explain,” Logan said.

His father was still sitting on the ground. “You can explain,” he said slowly, “how Virgil just threw an assassin off a cliff.”

Logan thought pointing out that Virgil hadn’t thrown anyone off a cliff and instead had set them on fire with a magical knife causing them to walk off a cliff, would not be useful in this moment. He glanced back briefly towards where Virgil and Patton were standing and then turned back to his father. “Yes.”

“And what would that explanation be?”

Before even starting to speak, Logan found himself making large dramatic ‘explaining hand gestures’ that he’d thought he’d long since trained himself out of. When he was younger and in trouble, he always used to give himself away as guilty by being overly expressive with his hands (and arms).

“So,” Logan said. He was still not able to stop the hand motions. “Virgil was an assassin. He came here to kill you last fall, but he accidently went to the wrong room in the royal wing. Patton and I were having a slumber party and caught him in the act. Then we reformed him and now he doesn’t kill people anymore.” He paused and glanced back, remembering the body that had just toppled off the cliff. “Er, uh, he doesn’t kill people who haven’t shot poisoned darts at people recently anymore?”

“What?”

“Look,” Logan said. “You’re going to have to tell him you’re not going to execute him soon. Patton can only keep him from bolting for so long.”

[ilovedazaiosamu]

wasn’t that what you wanted? || megumi fushiguro !

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

★ • genre : angst

★ • megumi x reader !

•𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟•

october was a stressful month for megumi, including you. there were so many missions to do, to the point you both obviously didn’t have time for each other. it bothered you, but it didn’t to him. he was acting like you were nothing to him. and your relationship grew apart, as megumi could barely spare any time. you were confused. he had his day offs, but he couldn’t even spare a conversation with you.

this morning, he was in a bad mood. usually, he would do his morning routine. he didn’t this time. he was occupied on his phone, texting yuji. he was complaining to him about how annoying you were. that’s why he has been ignoring you. he didn’t wanna hear your stupid bullshit. somehow, you saw his messages with yuji. it was heartbreaking, it tore you apart. how could he say that about you? you mean, you knew you were a chatterbox, but you thought he didn’t mind it.

”what the fuck, [name]?”

megumi was behind you. he wanted to know why you were on his phone. megumi felt so much anger in him. a little piece of resentment was building up inside him. he snatched his phone away from you.

“is that what you really.. think of me?”

you asked, trying to bottle up the surge of emotions in you. you wanted to ask why, so you could fix it. you wanted to know why. you were befuddled. why would he be with you if you were annoying.

“you weren’t supposed to see that. what the fuck were you thinking? you’re so meddlesome! do you know how annoying it is to live with you?! constantly being questioned, especially nagged! you know what? i’ve had enough of this. just leave. i don’t wanna look at you right now.”

now i was in distress. i didn’t know he had loathed me so much. i thought he still had a little bit of love in me. it looked like he didn’t. tears were staining my cheeks, as his fierce gaze was upon me.

“i thought you—“

“i don’t wanna hear it. i said leave.”

was he always this mean to you? what was stressing him out? you needed to know. but you just couldn’t. not with him ignoring you.

“i’m done, megumi! i’m done! do you know how long i’ve been holding onto this relationship for? how hard i’ve been trying to rebuild our relationship?! i’m trying, but you aren’t! just why? if i’m that annoying, why didn’t you say so? it kills me when you don’t communicate with me! i can’t do this anymore. our relationship is futile, you know why? because of this disrupted communication going on! everything would be just fine if you didn’t leave me hanging! i’m out!”

megumi was silent. through all this time, he was only thinking selfishly. he didn’t see his own mistakes, because his self centered mind only saw others’. sure, i wasn’t perfect, but i tried really hard. while he was distraught, i left. i ran outside, where the rain was pouring down on me. the clouds were crying with me. you knew it was never a good idea to bottle up your emotions. it’s like when a grasshopper comes out of its box, the others will end up escaping too. you bawled as you ran out of the building. everything was such a pain. your legs were strained, your voice too. why was it so hard to find love? to be loved?

i ended up at a cafe, where yuji was inside.

‘shit! i didn’t know he was here. i can’t get out now, i already ordered something..’ you thought to yourself as you panicked.

‘oh my god, he looked at me! shit he’s pulling out his phone.’ you knew yuji was texting megumi.

in a few seconds, megumi somehow arrived. his clothes were soaked. it looked like he was crying to. he was looking around, as if he was searching for you. you caught up on what he was doing, so you hid. you were too scared to see him. you were too embarrassed. you attempted to cover my face with my hair, but he could recognize you from a mile away, so what’s the use? he went over to your seat, and sat himself down. he had an apologetic look on his face. his nose was red, and he was blowing his nose with a tissue. it was so awkward, you felt an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

“i’m sorry. don’t leave me, forget about everything that i said.”

megumi intertwined your fingers with his, laying his head on my shoulder. you were a little mad at him, but you smiled.

“i’m also sorry, gumi. i lashed out on you..”

you responded to him, with a sincere look on my face. my food arrived, and he kept on staring at it. you giggled at him. he was hungry but didn’t say anything.

“you should start talking more, how are we gonna avoid miscommunication if we don’t communicate?”

“yeah, maybe we should.”

megumi opened his mouth, letting you feed him your fries. he didn’t really like them, but food is food. and for the rest of the day, you both finally spent time together alone.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

★ • notes : i’ll gladly quit if this flops ! the ending is so unilateral LMAO

[randomfoggytiger]

What a difference in the two interviews - Duchovny's in 1997 and Anderson's in 1998.

Duchovny was super arrogant and pretentious, thinking he was the King of Cocada Preta, trying to pass himself off as an intellectual, bored with fame. Winona Ryder never came out to David because she was much more famous at the time.. Thankfully, in the years that followed, he had to tone it down. Less Duchovny, much less…

Anderson, on the other hand, looked like a working mother, working non-stop to support her daughter, zero glamor, a bit depressed, like a middle-aged woman broken by life.

And in none of the interviews did the geniuses who interviewed them talk about Mulder and Scully, who were the soul of the show.

I'm slowly working on a progress-through-Season-8-based-on-the-burnt-out-interviews post, so this was timely. :DD

To be fair, David was suffering. Both of them were. The X-Files was simply a job to DD and GA; and they coped with its insane hours and insane stresses differently. For Gillian, she internally imploded: eating disorders, panic attacks, anxiety so bad she wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy. She was afraid to put a foot wrong because she'd gotten pregnant so early on and could have threatened the longevity of the show; but she kept putting a foot wrong due to a shoot-from-the-hip personality. Then she was a divorced co-parent trying to do everything herself. David, meanwhile, didn't have that stress; but instead of marrying quick to escape the unbearable loneliness (like Gillian did), he tried to escape by getting outward attention... or through porn, joking in Playboy that his favorite pornstar had gotten him through some very, very lonely days. He also outsourced constantly, making connections with other entertainers and etc. to try to establish himself in Hollywood away from the show. Part of that persona-- that he had everything together and was living the dream-- was part and parcel of selling himself to the business for, in turn, more work.

Secondly, DD WAS arrogant. It wasn't until AA that he learned gratitude, per his own words. Until that time, he'd overachieved into such heights of success that he, naturally, developed an ego. But that wasn't enough-- it never is-- and he kept devising other ways to get attention. Per his old interviews, he described being 'shocking' or 'funny' or etc. as a way to keep others' eyes (and attention) on himself. He always feared they'd lose interest in him and walk away, otherwise (still does.)

That mindset, he's stated here and there, was a result of habits he'd formed in his childhood-- the middle child caught in a turbulent divorce: father suddenly gone, mother heartbroken, and older brother and younger sister taking sides. He had to become intermediary for his siblings and shoulder-to-lean-on for his mother. He became his mother's pride and joy: a shy kid who thought he wasn't a looker when he was younger, who transferred to a better school on a scholarship, who was "captain of the basketball team and the baseball team and a straight-A student, and I was in my last year of high school, and I'd applied to four schools–Harvard, Yale, Princeton and Brown–and I got into all of them." Who was, in short, an over-achiever; and became arrogant because he achieved everything through his own efforts. But he was also a kid who fainted in senior year, breaking his front teeth, because the stress was too much.

And he was also a man who spent long hours overworked on a show he wasn't particularly passionate about. One who spent long, isolated hours alone (in the bathtub) in Vancouver when not working. And one who always had to be "on" when he was out with his friends or spotted by people on the street. Further, no one wanted (wants) to hear the rich and successful complain about the hardships of their success. So, he turned on the charm for attention, instead; and resented having to "sell himself" for people to care about his work. And his performance, on and off screen, earned him fifteen years of public backpatting and"Fox Mulder"ing everywhere he went.

He didn't deal with the stress perfectly, and created his own problems that had to be worked through later on. But Gillian did, as well (per her own words); and they've both owned up to their mistakes and have, seemingly, moved on from the past.

Lastly, there are other interviews where his truer self comes through: those are sadder, pre-marriage; or more stable and happy, post-marriage. Gillian had happy interviews, too; but her life was much more accelerated than his (marriage, pregnancy, divorce on close heels), and thus sounded more burnt out than he was.

I don't like to pit or compare faults because I'm sure they both handled global fame and nonstop work better than a lot of people would have (David was rock-bottom depressed and Gillian was afraid she'd quite literally go insane; but they made it.) And there are always interviews where he looks like a cherub and she a hag, or he an arrogant scumbag and she a hard-done-by saint. Neither were either.

About the Winona Ryder speculation:

Even in interviews from the early days, DD kept personal details close to the chest, referring to romantic partners as "my girlfriend" unless his significant other had an established public persona (or an upcoming project.) The person he spoke the most about was Tea-- and that was after their marriage, and only during interviews to promote their next tv series or movie. Tea was a talker, and she didn't mind when he talked about her; so, she rubbed off on David for a good chunk of their relationship-- even after the rehab stint-- until their divorce. (Now, she's taken a vow of silence and enforces it strictly with Tim Daly, as stated by both.)

I'm not up-to-date on Winona, but I'm sure the relationship wasn't serious enough for either to really acknowledge it. She looked happy in their picture together; and I don't think she's the type to deny a relationship because it might not be advantageous to her "brand." But what do I know? XDD

Those are my thoughts, anyway~ :DDD