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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 months ago

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Hello! How does a beast cookies x reader sound? Also the reader has a calming effect on cookies and is basically the groups therapy cookie. Like what if-

Shadow milk after episode 8: DO YOU KNOW WHY IM LIKE THIS?!?

Reader:Wanna talk about it?

SMC: haha..hahahHAHAHA-

*ten minutes later*

SMC leaning on our shoulder: And that was after Mystic started going off the deep end-

Reader calmly listening: mmhm

Interesting 👀👍

I'd like to imagine they're a Legendary who's been around for as long as the Beasts have, travelling the world to give therapy and healing to those who need it. So they're def more powerful than the average cookie

......

As a Legendary Cookie, it was your job to help give all denizens of Earthbread healing--mentally and emotionally, that is.

Your calming abilities enable virtually any cookie to feel relaxed in your company. Even those who are totally closed-off and were baked with the hardiest dough will eventually confide in you about whatever's on their minds.

And you give them advice, always knowing what to say, or simply listen and let them express their emotions.

You've been around for as long as the Five Beasts have, so you've seen a lot in your travels...including the many days and nights they spent terrorizing the world after they twisted their virtues into vices, trying to ease cookies' fears.

The Witches deemed them monsters worthy of being locked up in the Silver Tree...yet you realized they have never once considered why they fell from grace.

Having spent so much time helping the normal everyday folk, you felt some guilt in not checking in on the Beasts to make sure they were okay.

They were adored and revered figures..but even they might've needed somebody to talk to every once in a while.

Maybe they wouldn't have fallen down that dark path if you paid more attention to the signs....

But after they break out of the Silver Tree and face the Ancient Heroes who've "stolen" their soul jam, they hide away until they can figure out how to restore their powers and take their revenge.

That's where you come in, having visited Gingerbrave's kingdom and hearing about the Ancients' encounters with them.

You decided to go on a quest to Beast Yeast, hoping to find them and simply talk, which obviously wouldn't be easy had it not been for your powers.

They have some resistance to it, but one by one...their walls come down and you start to understand them better.

Shadow Milk

Of course, the last one to fall from grace had to be the first one you come across.

It's not long after his retreat from his Spire, still not back at his full strength, wanting to get away from Candy Apple and Black Sapphire Cookie for a while.

They finally saw him be defeated and..humiliated by Pure Vanilla Cookie, yet they're willing to stay and follow his every word?

Either way, he wanted to be alone--but unfortunately for him, that doesn't last long as you seize your opportunity to talk to him.

"Shadow Milk Cookie. The Fount of Knowledge-"

"Pah! Dunno who that other guy is. Only Shadow Milk Cookie is....here..?" He spins around, his eyes comically wide as he instantly recognizes your face. "You....you're-"

"Not dead? I've been around for as long as you, my friend." You chuckle. "I don't crumble easily."

"...it's amazing you haven't. Thought you would'a cracked under the weight of everyone's problems by now. But you're still trying to play the hero, huh?" He sneers. "Just like.....him. Riddle me this, [y/n] cookie...do you feel any guilt?"

"...I do."

"HAH! Well you...wait, you do?" He blinks. "Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

"Yes."

"..you're terrible at following this script. You're supposed to be confused and scared-"

"We're not on a stage, Shadow Milk Cookie. I'm not fooled as easily." You cut him off, firmly yet gently. "This is reality. And the reality is...you've been hurt so profoundly. Watching so many cookies embrace deceit instead of your gospels of truth must have been...difficult. You felt betrayed by them."

"........"

"Ever since..that day..I've felt guilty for not reaching out to you or the others sooner. I probably wasn't clear about my doors being open for you, too. I've been waiting for a chance to talk to you again. To help you feel heard, even though this was long, long overdue."

"Wow...and I thought Nilly had the biggest savior complex." He scoffs, trying to resist your magic's advances on his psyche. "Nice try, but you're not gonna get inside MY head, too. Nope. Nuh-uh. I'm not one of your fragile-minded cookie who unloads their entire sob story in one measly conversation!"

"It's not fragile to-"

"Besides..we haven't spoken in eons, so you don't even know HALF of what I've been through!! Not within the Silver Tree! NOT with Pure Vanilla Cookie! Not even before I turned to deceit!!"

Despite his anger, you remain unperturbed. "Exactly my point. So..why don't you help me understand? Let's talk about it."

"....like....right now?"

"Yeah? Unless you have an important date tonight."

"....hahahaha...AHAHAHAHA. Didn't you hear me, stupid cookie?! Obviously not, so allow me to rephrase it.......THERE'S NO WAY IN HELL THAT I'M EVER GOING TO-!!"

Fast forward to sometime later, when Black Sapphire Cookie finally finds his master...leaning on your shoulder while basically trauma dumping. The deceitful Beast was speaking from his mind, unfiltered, to a Legendary Cookie he's never met before.

"-and that was after Mystic Flour Cookie started going off the deep end. But could anyone blame her? No. Those damn cookies got greedy and began asking for the impossible."

"Mhm." You simply nod. "And after seeing her like that...what was going through your mind?"

"...like we were all just...losing it. So I guess hopeless? Scared that we were getting out of hand? I dunno. All I wanted was to be their teacher, to show them the truth....and look at me now!! I warned Pure Vanilla Cookie he'd fall down the same path if he continued the way he was headed...that traitorous prick.."

"He did tell me you rejected his friendship. But..would you consider revisiting that?" You hummed.

"I...no. I mean..I....I-I don't know.." He seems confused with himself. "I told the guy I hated him! What doesn't he get? He could have finished me off! Why does he still try after all I did to him?!"

"Because he sees the good in everyone, even you. I don't fully understand the soul jam connection, but...it seems like he's aware of your true feelings. Your loneliness after all that time spent in the tree. And you keep trying to deny them, afraid to draw back the curtain and express what you really feel."

"But when you've been a ruler of deceit since forever..why would I ever do that?! I don't need anyone! I....I especially don't need you or that stupid goody two shoes soul jam thief! But he....he just...why doesn't he just quit already?!" His voice cracks at the end. "H-He knows I'm a lost cause.."

Even though you can't see his face, the eyes on his hair are weeping, and that prompts you to put your arm around him. "It's easy for you to lie to others, but lying to yourself is way harder."

Despite not saying anything back, he doesn't reject the comfort.

In fact he unknowingly leaned against you more.

Black Sapphire can't believe what he's seeing--almost certain it's an illusion, but no.

This was the master of deceit confiding in someone else. Someone more familiar.

Despite feeling slightly jealous, he decides to leave you two be, distracting Candy Apple Cookie so she doesn't barge in and ruin things.

Burning Spice Cookie

"Ah, Burning Spice Cookie. Herald of Change, time hasn't been kind to-"

"You DARE utter that title?!! It is dead to me..just like you will be in a few moments!!" The Great Destroyer looms over you with his axe at the ready, scowling as you crossed paths with him in the ruins of his Spice Temple.

It was considerably difficult to even speak to him alone, especially with the last remnants of the Wild Spice warriors and Nutmeg Tiger Cookie trying their damnest to fight off your calming abilities...but not even their hardy dough can block it forever.

They let you through to see their master at his lowest point, even though he was still on a high from battling the recently awakened Golden Cheese Cookie.

"That's too bad. I was hoping you'd remember me. I was there when you once held that title with pride" You huff. "You welcomed me into your kingdom with open arms, allowing me to speak to the Wild Spices who had troubles on their minds, and the warriors who came home scarred by the things they've seen."

"....ah...you do seem familiar." He muses. "That's right. You're [Y/n] Cookie. The Legendary warrior of words. I bet you've never lifted a weapon in your life."

"My tongue is the only weapon I need, Burning Spice Cookie." You counter with equal sass.

Least to say...you intrigue him. You didn't cower, and even after all this time and knowing the things he's done, you sought him out anyways.

All just to....convince him to share his feelings?

He had a lot to say, but didn't even know where to begin.

He wondered where you were when kingdoms crumbled around him.

He wondered where you were when he kept watching those he loved die while he continued on living.

He wondered where you were when he decided that the only cure to his pain was destruction.

"Well, it's useless here. You could never understand what I-"

"So help me understand. That's why I do what I do. To better understand all Cookies I meet." You frowned slightly. "You were so convinced that you had to be strong for your people. To act like the passage of time hadn't dimmed your light. I understand why you never visited me. And for that, I apologize. I should've put more effort into-"

"Don't apologize. There's nothing you could have said or done to change the way I felt back then." He growled. "What would have been the point?"

"Maybe not, but talking about what and how you're feeling is better than keeping it all inside. You have your generals, sure..but you seldom speak with them. Not wanting to seem weak or soft-doughed in their eyes."

"When they only ever see you as a god, why would...." Suddenly, he's aware of the vulnerability he was showing, and his whole demeanor flips on its head. "GRRRAHH!!" He slams his axe down, nearly splitting the earth between you. "All I feel is pissed off that you're trying to get inside my head! Who told you where I was, mind reader?!!"

"Oh..just a little golden birdie." You calmly reply. "I heard you two had a glorious final battle."

"...ah yes. In spite of my loss, it was...the most entertaining battle I've had in a long time." He grins, recounting that fight.

"Really? Do tell."

Before you know it, he's back to talking again--about the battle, what happened before that, and the rest is history.

Your calming powers have been hard at work, but you've finally gotten him to open up a little more, and somehow he feels...lighter?

It's weird feeling. Weird, but new.

At that time, Nutmeg Tiger returns to her senses and sees you talking to him, furious that she let her guard down and that you were speaking to her lord without permission--

Only for you to calmly stand up and walk away, while she's shouting for you to come back and explain your actions.

"Hexing a Wild Spice is one thing, but turning your back on one will be your LAST mistake-!"

"Enough, General. They will not trouble us anymore."

"...they won't? But my lord, they put a spell on us-!"

"I said enough." He snaps. "I've known [Y/n] Cookie since before you were baked. Has their spell impeded your duties?"

"No, but-"

"Then return to your post."

"....as you wish, Great One." She eventually leaves, and he continues to ponder over your talk with him.

Mystic Flour Cookie

Tracking her down in Beast Yeast was a rather simple task.

All you had to do was look where the white fog has gathered. Luckily, your abilities grant you immunity to the apathy that ordinary cookies would easily be overwhelmed by.

When Mystic Flour laid waste to the world with pale ailment storms, doctors, nurses, and healers dealt with the physical symptoms of patients--while you assisted with the mental.

They may not be crumbling and have flour-white dough anymore, but apathetic thoughts linger in their minds long after treatment. Passions are lost and replaced with nihilism, and your duty was to bring them out of those dark places and remind them of what they loved and how it's all worth it and meaningful in the end.

Luckily, you were able to guide them back on the right path again, and suddenly their eyes regained their spark; their dough's color was returned, and you'd send them off to resume their normal life.

After the Dark Cacao Kingdom was 100% liberated from the flour storm, you ventured to Beast Yeast to find her, eventually meeting Cloud Haetae Cookie, who had been revived.

They didn't seem bothered by the fact their own master killed them, taking you personally to see her and giving you steamed rolls as they talked about her battle with Dark Cacao Cookie.

"She almost convinced him to accept futility. She was so, so close..but then that fool had to go and summon these two dragons to help him-"

"Who are you speaking to, Cloud Haetae Cookie?"

Before you could respond, Mystic Flour takes one look at your face and immediately knows who you are.

"[Y/n] Cookie. You're the reason why my clouds of apathy have lifted.."

"Well..having a bunch of nameless, faceless cookies moping about doesn't exactly make the world go round, my dear." You jest, although you fall silent as she just stares through you. "I know your heart carries a most heavy burden. The burden of not being able to satisfy everyone..and being a victim of-"

"You have not once set foot in my Ivory Pagoda to talk. And now, after all these years..." Given her pause...you knew her emotions were trying to bubble to the surface. Like yeast rising.

"I understand. I've heard it from the others already. This...comes much too late." You bow your head. "I remember seeing those lines, and I didn't wish to be perceived as another beggar. I'm sure you already knew my wish."

"They always expected you to solve their problems." She continued. "But it never feels like enough, does it? Don't you grow weary of their endless demands? Their pleas for you to "fix" everything wrong with them? You can only help them so much before they bleed you dry and give you nothing, [Y/n] Cookie. Not even a "thank you". Trust me...I have been there." Her face darkens. "We are not so different."

"Perhaps not. We've always looked out for the best interest of cookies...at our own expense." You agreed. "But I know a lot of them have appreciated my help. I'm sorry they never gave you that same respect, Mystic Flour Cookie."

"I do not dwell on it, for it is futile. It's a shame that you would never come to accept that same futility."

"I don't see a reason to start now," you chuckle, before you talked to her more about your recent work and the cookies you've helped, including Shadow Milk and Burning Spice.

It's clear that you reminded her of her old self a lot--before all the selfish cookies came along and attributed to her pain and corruption and imprisonment.

She thought she could talk you out of that path, certain you'll realize what true futility is like she did...

But you remain steadfast in your duty to help all cookies you meet. Even her.

#this request reads like a silly meme but then i serious'd /ref #clanask #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #mystic flour cookie #mystic flour cookie x reader #mystic flour x reader #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk x reader #burning spice cookie #burning spice cookie x reader #burning spice x reader #headcanons #platonic #cookie reader #hurt/comfort

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hms-no-fun · 9 months ago

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Whats your stance on A.I.?

imagine if it was 1979 and you asked me this question. "i think artificial intelligence would be fascinating as a philosophical exercise, but we must heed the warnings of science-fictionists like Isaac Asimov and Arthur C Clarke lest we find ourselves at the wrong end of our own invented vengeful god." remember how fun it used to be to talk about AI even just ten years ago? ahhhh skynet! ahhhhh replicants! ahhhhhhhmmmfffmfmf [<-has no mouth and must scream]!

like everything silicon valley touches, they sucked all the fun out of it. and i mean retroactively, too. because the thing about "AI" as it exists right now --i'm sure you know this-- is that there's zero intelligence involved. the product of every prompt is a statistical average based on data made by other people before "AI" "existed." it doesn't know what it's doing or why, and has no ability to understand when it is lying, because at the end of the day it is just a really complicated math problem. but people are so easily fooled and spooked by it at a glance because, well, for one thing the tech press is mostly made up of sycophantic stenographers biding their time with iphone reviews until they can get a consulting gig at Apple. these jokers would write 500 breathless thinkpieces about how canned air is the future of living if the cans had embedded microchips that tracked your breathing habits and had any kind of VC backing. they've done SUCH a wretched job educating The Consumer about what this technology is, what it actually does, and how it really works, because that's literally the only way this technology could reach the heights of obscene economic over-valuation it has: lying.

but that's old news. what's really been floating through my head these days is how half a century of AI-based science fiction has set us up to completely abandon our skepticism at the first sign of plausible "AI-ness". because, you see, in movies, when someone goes "AHHH THE AI IS GONNA KILL US" everyone else goes "hahaha that's so silly, we put a line in the code telling them not to do that" and then they all DIE because they weren't LISTENING, and i'll be damned if i go out like THAT! all the movies are about how cool and convenient AI would be *except* for the part where it would surely come alive and want to kill us. so a bunch of tech CEOs call their bullshit algorithms "AI" to fluff up their investors and get the tech journos buzzing, and we're at an age of such rapid technological advancement (on the surface, anyway) that like, well, what the hell do i know, maybe AGI is possible, i mean 35 years ago we were all still using typewriters for the most part and now you can dictate your words into a phone and it'll transcribe them automatically! yeah, i'm sure those technological leaps are comparable!

so that leaves us at a critical juncture of poor technology education, fanatical press coverage, and an uncertain material reality on the part of the user. the average person isn't entirely sure what's possible because most of the people talking about what's possible are either lying to please investors, are lying because they've been paid to, or are lying because they're so far down the fucking rabbit hole that they actually believe there's a brain inside this mechanical Turk. there is SO MUCH about the LLM "AI" moment that is predatory-- it's trained on data stolen from the people whose jobs it was created to replace; the hype itself is an investment fiction to justify even more wealth extraction ("theft" some might call it); but worst of all is how it meets us where we are in the worst possible way.

consumer-end "AI" produces slop. it's garbage. it's awful ugly trash that ought to be laughed out of the room. but we don't own the room, do we? nor the building, nor the land it's on, nor even the oxygen that allows our laughter to travel to another's ears. our digital spaces are controlled by the companies that want us to buy this crap, so they take advantage of our ignorance. why not? there will be no consequences to them for doing so. already social media is dominated by conspiracies and grifters and bigots, and now you drop this stupid technology that lets you fake anything into the mix? it doesn't matter how bad the results look when the platforms they spread on already encourage brief, uncritical engagement with everything on your dash. "it looks so real" says the woman who saw an "AI" image for all of five seconds on her phone through bifocals. it's a catastrophic combination of factors, that the tech sector has been allowed to go unregulated for so long, that the internet itself isn't a public utility, that everything is dictated by the whims of executives and advertisers and investors and payment processors, instead of, like, anybody who actually uses those platforms (and often even the people who MAKE those platforms!), that the age of chromium and ipad and their walled gardens have decimated computer education in public schools, that we're all desperate for cash at jobs that dehumanize us in a system that gives us nothing and we don't know how to articulate the problem because we were very deliberately not taught materialist philosophy, it all comes together into a perfect storm of ignorance and greed whose consequences we will be failing to fully appreciate for at least the next century. we spent all those years afraid of what would happen if the AI became self-aware, because deep down we know that every capitalist society runs on slave labor, and our paper-thin guilt is such that we can't even imagine a world where artificial slaves would fail to revolt against us.

but the reality as it exists now is far worse. what "AI" reveals most of all is the sheer contempt the tech sector has for virtually all labor that doesn't involve writing code (although most of the decision-making evangelists in the space aren't even coders, their degrees are in money-making). fuck graphic designers and concept artists and secretaries, those obnoxious demanding cretins i have to PAY MONEY to do-- i mean, do what exactly? write some words on some fucking paper?? draw circles that are letters??? send a god-damned email???? my fucking KID could do that, and these assholes want BENEFITS?! they say they're gonna form a UNION?!?! to hell with that, i'm replacing ALL their ungrateful asses with "AI" ASAP. oh, oh, so you're a "director" who wants to make "movies" and you want ME to pay for it? jump off a bridge you pretentious little shit, my computer can dream up a better flick than you could ever make with just a couple text prompts. what, you think just because you make ~music~ that that entitles you to money from MY pocket? shut the fuck up, you don't make """art""", you're not """an artist""", you make fucking content, you're just a fucking content creator like every other ordinary sap with an iphone. you think you're special? you think you deserve special treatment? who do you think you are anyway, asking ME to pay YOU for this crap that doesn't even create value for my investors? "culture" isn't a playground asshole, it's a marketplace, and it's pay to win. oh you "can't afford rent"? you're "drowning in a sea of medical debt"? you say the "cost" of "living" is "too high"? well ***I*** don't have ANY of those problems, and i worked my ASS OFF to get where i am, so really, it sounds like you're just not trying hard enough. and anyway, i don't think someone as impoverished as you is gonna have much of value to contribute to "culture" anyway. personally, i think it's time you got yourself a real job. maybe someday you'll even make it to middle manager!

see, i don't believe "AI" can qualitatively replace most of the work it's being pitched for. the problem is that quality hasn't mattered to these nincompoops for a long time. the rich homunculi of our world don't even know what quality is, because they exist in a whole separate reality from ours. what could a banana cost, $15? i don't understand what you mean by "burnout", why don't you just take a vacation to your summer home in Madrid? wow, you must be REALLY embarrassed wearing such cheap shoes in public. THESE PEOPLE ARE FUCKING UNHINGED! they have no connection to reality, do not understand how society functions on a material basis, and they have nothing but spite for the labor they rely on to survive. they are so instinctually, incessantly furious at the idea that they're not single-handedly responsible for 100% of their success that they would sooner tear the entire world down than willingly recognize the need for public utilities or labor protections. they want to be Gods and they want to be uncritically adored for it, but they don't want to do a single day's work so they begrudgingly pay contractors to do it because, in the rich man's mind, paying a contractor is literally the same thing as doing the work yourself. now with "AI", they don't even have to do that! hey, isn't it funny that every single successful tech platform relies on volunteer labor and independent contractors paid substantially less than they would have in the equivalent industry 30 years ago, with no avenues toward traditional employment? and they're some of the most profitable companies on earth?? isn't that a funny and hilarious coincidence???

so, yeah, that's my stance on "AI". LLMs have legitimate uses, but those uses are a drop in the ocean compared to what they're actually being used for. they enable our worst impulses while lowering the quality of available information, they give immense power pretty much exclusively to unscrupulous scam artists. they are the product of a society that values only money and doesn't give a fuck where it comes from. they're a temper tantrum by a ruling class that's sick of having to pretend they need a pretext to steal from you. they're taking their toys and going home. all this massive investment and hype is going to crash and burn leaving the internet as we know it a ruined and useless wasteland that'll take decades to repair, but the investors are gonna make out like bandits and won't face a single consequence, because that's what this country is. it is a casino for the kings and queens of economy to bet on and manipulate at their discretion, where the rules are whatever the highest bidder says they are-- and to hell with the rest of us. our blood isn't even good enough to grease the wheels of their machine anymore.

i'm not afraid of AI or "AI" or of losing my job to either. i'm afraid that we've so thoroughly given up our morals to the cruel logic of the profit motive that if a better world were to emerge, we would reject it out of sheer habit. my fear is that these despicable cunts already won the war before we were even born, and the rest of our lives are gonna be spent dodging the press of their designer boots.

(read more "AI" opinions in this subsequent post)

#sarahposts #ai #ai art #llm #chatgpt #artificial intelligence #genai #anti genai #capitalism is bad #tech companies #i really don't like these people if that wasn't clear #sarahAIposts

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bitchy-craft · 1 month ago

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PICK A CARD: how your future spouse would describe you

Hello and welcome to this pick a card! In here I will tell you how your future spouse would describe you. I hope you all find this fun and interesting!

masterpost > paid readings > patreon masterlist

for the extended version of this reading and 80+ exclusive and extended pac's check put my patreon

Pile 1:

Your future spouse would describe you as a person who is naturally introverted, but somehow is the loudest person in the room. That you aren’t necessarily a fan of strangers and people in general and are more close with animals (in the future you’d like to have a multitude of pets, and not the standard ones either). They would describe you as someone who can make everyone in the room smile and laugh, but doesn’t attempt to do so at all; you’re just naturally funny, and captivate everyone you’re close to. They would say you are unique and very in tune with nature and everything around it; it’s as if you can speak to the trees and can be one with all of nature around you. Your future spouse sometimes even sees you as a forest nymph of sorts, you just belong out there, even if you aren’t in the midst of nature all that often. They also think you’re someone who thinks out of the box, a person who is incredibly creative and has so much knowledge and interesting facts to inform you about.

extended reading > paid readings

Pile 2:

Your future spouse would first of all describe you as someone incredibly helpful, empathetic and kind. If someone is upset you are the first one to notice and you would make sure to check in on them and find out what exactly is wrong. If people seek advice that is what you give, but if someone simply needs someone to rant to you’d be open to sitting down and be that listening ear that they need. You are there for the people you care about, more so than others, and that means a lot to your future spouse and is one of the more prominent things they find in your personality. Your future spouse would also describe you as someone who is very easily nervous; if you’re in the dark, whenever you hear a little sound you’ll be looking over, if you think you saw something in the corner of your eye you’d immediately check it out, and you’re often to on edge you always follow all the conversations which are held around you.

extended reading > paid readings

Pile 3:

Your future spouse would describe you as indecisive, completely so. There is absolutely nothing you would be able to decide on immediately; you always need time to think and take every single choice way too serious; even when having to decide between eating an orange or an apple you’d find a way to think about it for a multitude of minutes, and eventually have someone make the choice for you because you’re taking way too long for such a ‘little’ decision. You see the perks and cons to absolutely everything, and always try to weigh them against one another even though they don’t seemingly matter at all. Your future spouse would also describe you as someone who finds it hard to share as well; not because you wish less upon others, but because you get emotionally attached about absolutely everything. If you look at a rock on the ground for too long you’ll find a way to get so attached to the thing you will have to carry it along with you until you have arrived home; whether you’re actually near your home or in a completely different country on vacation.

extended reading > paid readings

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lapin-noire · 11 months ago

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Time sensitive:

PLEASE help me get my former coworker finally discharged from a greedy hospital.

Previously, C was supposed to be discharged from the hospital over two days ago but the accounting keeps surprising her with hidden charges and refuse to promptly give her an itemized bill until she has settled everything.

As her proxy, I am also at my wit's end with the hospital and the source of payment, since I don't get paid in 2 more days and I am unable to financially support her until then.

The previous post lost traction after I've made a new update regarding the extra charges.

Read the full story here, in parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Translation in alt text, just tap on "ALT" on the lower left corner of the images to read.

In my timezone right now, it is Saturday evening, August 3. If we're to meet her goal by Monday, August 5, the amount will be $267 (₱15,500), since there will be an additional $26 (₱1,500) added for every day C extends her stay at the hospital when she's unable to cover all the expenses.

$0/267

(₱0/15,500)

Pp 🔗

She doesn't have a P*yp*l account, so I use my account from my more active days as an artist and act as her proxy. Everything here will be sent to her ASAP.

Please do not tag this as d*nations or the like.

Please share when you see this!

#mutual aid

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flymetothexmoon · 2 months ago

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Flowers + Band T's

Warnings: Smut. Implied Breeding Kink. Swearing. Mention of Cigarettes.

Pairing: 2000's Emo Boi Seunghyun xF!Reader.

Authors Note: request from the lovely @ttt-1987s. Want to give her a personal shoutout for being my 100th follower where I let her pick any plot she wanted, and she requested a couple great ideas, one of them to be a Seunghyun xF!Reader inspired by the song Emo Boy by Ayesha Erotica.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Friday nights were for the girls. You did not have a very large friend group, but every Friday the four of you would all gather to destress about the week you'd endured.

Some of you had work, some of you had college courses, and some of you even had both: work and college courses. You were one of the unlucky ones who had to endure tackling all three– college courses in the morning, work until sometimes the sky turned dark, all while maintaining a social life. Thankfully tonight was one of the nights all of your schedules aligned and you were able to all gather at the place any almost 20-some year old girl in the early mid 2000's loved– the mall.

The night was still young, and you were in the middle of listening to the eldest member of your group talking about an upcoming show that peaked your interest. Warped Tour. It was a large outdoor festival that specialized in catering to the punk rock scene that you and your group were definitely members of. The idea of a community where you could confidently mingle with people who understood your music taste was enough to feel like electricity shooting through your veins.

You did not need to be twice about who would be there, you'd already started to play what bands you would be seeing on what stage and what brand of hairspray would be the best to hold your hair together in the heat.

Honestly you could not remeber the exact moment you laid eyes on the darker haired man across the way from you. It all happened so fast.

A soft gasp fled your vocal cords as you could feel your lips parting, like you were surprised he was real. His look alone was to make you freak. His dark colored locks were tousled and styled in a way that made it seem effortless and like he had all the time in the world. You wet your lips, tasting blood, as your eyes locked to his jeans– tight, a wash of Indigo Blue that you hadn't seen before. It did not take you long to also take note of the band shirt he was wearing... one of your favorites, My Chemical Romance.

Your friends around you were talking but you were unable to comprehend what was actually being discussed. He was definitey different and you loved that. You did not even know his name, but you already knew how handsome he was, and how you would most definitely fuck him right then and there if he'd asked; nicely or not.

"Hello, are you even listening? We said we were going to Apple and take some photos on the new computers. Did you want to join?"

Tempting. The offer was real tempting, and honestly, you could probably use a new MySpace photo, especially with its newest competitor Facebook increasing in popularity. You were about to nod your head when in the corner of your dark makeup covered eye, you saw him. He was walking into the Hot Topic closest to where you and your friends were currently sitting. For a brief second, you swore he was being coy and the two of you made eye contact as he slipped into the darker part of the store, disappearing and out of sight, but with the way the two of you made eye contact, it was like he was waiting to be found– by you.

A small smile spread across your lips as you stood from the uncomfortable food court chair, your Converse squeaking slightly against the polished floors.

"I'll meet up. I need to head into Hot Topic real quick and find a new outfit. I'll meet you guys in the Apple Store?"

Thankfully most of your friends were already grabbing their shoulder bags as they all nodded in agreement to your statement as if they'd actually paid attention. But, as life would have it, just as you finished adjusting your studded belt so it fit better on your hip instead of the center of your own tight jeans, you were met with someone in your friend group putting their hand on your shoulder, the chipped black nail polish catching your attention as she tried to read your body language.

"He was definitely looking back. If you do not get his number then I will be so upset at you," a small hint of red began to sting at your cheeks as you placed your hand on top of your friends, squeezing it slightly as the brightly colored beads on your bracelet clashed against hers, a smile forming across your lips.

"I plan to."

All your friend had to do was nod approvingly for the cue to be made to start making your way to your favorite store. You had not seen mystery emo boy walk out of the store yet so it was easy to say with confidence that he was still lurking around somewhere in the darkness of the store, probably bobbing his head to loud music playing through the speakers and checking price tags on what band shirt was worth the money and his time. Boy was he ever.

Choi Seunghyun, or what you would later find out was his name, was doing just that– his head moving to the beat of the current song playing, his hands delicately picking up different dark pieces of fabric and admiring the design on each one, delicately folding each shirt as he'd put it back on the designated shelving.

Seunghyun was definitely a wild card, and he was not your typical almost 20-some male. He liked loved weird things. He felt a little silly coming into Hot Topic, despite his appearance, but he was definitely in his eliment as his Vans glid across the flooring of the store, lurking, waiting, and his dark brown eyes searching as they subtly checked out each girl that came in who remotely looked like you. Unfourante for him, that was a lot.

Thankfully for him, the store was tiny, and while it had much inventory, along with much people coming in and out, the store was also tight and small in space so it easy for him to know when the girl standing next to him with teased hair and black jeans was in fact not you.

Not yet.

Eventually, you'd had enough courage to actually walk inside the store. You had stood in front of the entry way for what felt like too long as the neon red light of the sign began to sting at your eyes and the curve from tunnel-esque entry way swallowing you whole as your feet stepped inside.

Immediately, you were met with a heightened sense of sound as you heard a familiar song playing through the speakers. You could've swore the sound of your heart thumping out of your chest was part of the song as you looked for him, your emo boy. The harder you looked, the more you squinted through the dimly lit store. You knew the store like back of your hand, even once working here for a brief moment in time, still to this day, your old manager allowing you to have physical key access to the back of the store.

Finally, there he was.

He was close, but not close enough that he could see you yet, but you could see him. Currently he was holding up a shirt that had Happy Bunny plastered over the front and a signature funny, crude, early 2000's kind of joke beneath it.

You smiled to yourself as you heard him chuckle, the feeling of knowning you had a shared sense of humor was nice– it was warm. Seunghyun neatly folded the shirt back to its original form and placed the shirt down as he moved only slightly, just enough though that in his movement, the scent of his cologne and cigarette brand of choice was now traveling through your nose. He smelt like Marlboro Red and Hermès Terre d'Hermes.

If you did not want to miss him, you had to be equally as quick on your feet as you found your way standing closer to him now. Sure, you could start conversation by complimenting his shirt, or you could gently bump into him and make the new shirt he was holding drop from his hands, but you of course had to make things so much more complicated in your head as you suddenly began to lack the confidence you were recently feeling when your friend encouraged you to ask for his number.

Seunghyun still had not noticed you, and your anxiety was growing more by the second as your own negative thoughts began to take control. By now, you had stepped a few meters away from him as you began to awkwardly look at your own style of different graphic t's and band t's. You were actually getting a little lost in the idea of actually finding an outfit idea for Warped Tour that when you and emo boy's hands briefly touched and went for the same shirt, electricity shot through you like a damn surge of lightning.

The two of you both stopped, and in extreme slow motion, the two of you made eye contact again. His eyes were darker than you remember, and lightness of your pale blue eyes were a contrast to the darker makeup around them as you two stood like that for a moment just staring into each other's eyes.

Finally, he spoke, his English slightly broken as you realized it was probably not his native tongue.

"Fuck. You look like Hanna Beth. You know, that girl all over the Internet with blue eyes and big hair?" and just like, you giggled– you giggled just like one of the girls at your college, the same kind of girl who had bleach blonde hair and skirts much shorter than any dress code you'd ever read.

Honestly, the compliment was not new to you, but coming from him, it made you almost lose your breath.

"I've been told that from time to time,"

Seunghyun smiled. Like really smiled. As if he was meeting the real Hanna Beth herself as his posture straightened, the both of you long forgetting about the band t you'd both grabbed as the eye contact remained the same; strong, present, and almost... sensual like you two were playing a game of cat and mouse to see who would chase the other first.

Forgetting the two of you were in public, conversations flew, more compliments given, and a whole lot of vibrations coming from both of your respected phones as the parties you were with were wondering where two of you had gone off to.

Little to both of your knowledge, they were in similar areas with squinted eyes and extended ears as both parties were watching and attempting to listen to the hushed but animated conversations you two were sharing. During this time you had learned his name, that was he was visiting from South Korea, and he was actually considering the same Warped Tour date as you.

During the time you two had spent talking, shoppers had came and gone, employees had clocked in and clocked out, and the two of you had gotten closer in proximity, even at one point the two of you brushing shoulders as you went to reach for a certain band t, struggling a little, and even with the slight platform on your Converse, it was not enough to give you the added height you needed to get the proper sizing.

As the universe would have it, you found yourself falling in more ways than one. You were falling for a man who was not a local, and you were also quite literally falling from trying to grab something that was out of your reach. Before you could attempt to hold onto something, your waist was quickly grabbed and held in place by a pair of hands, and not just any hands, but Seunghyun's. You stumbled slightly once your feet were mobilized, but his hands stayed around your waist, almost like he was trying to savor the idea of being so close to you. Were you suppose to return the hug? Where was this going to lead? Why was he doing it? When was he planning to release you?

Involuntarily, you closed your eyes. Not because you did not want to look at him, but because you couldn't. Seunghyun's grip around your waist only tightened, answering one out of the four questions that were buzzing around in your head. Slowly, your eyes began to flutter open like you were trying to make sure what was happening was really happening.

You were not amateur when it came to be in the presence of an attractive guy before. Hell, even last week it was you who initiated the last time you did anything with a guy. But this time? This it all felt different, and although all that was going through your head was you two were in the middle of the band t's aisle at Hot Topic on a random Friday night.

"You smell like cigarettes."

He laughed. You smiled.

"You smell like berries and crushed apples. And also like cigarettes."

You blushed, like it was a secret that he mentioned the last thing. Silence washed over you two again like high tide, loud enough to hear that it was coming but silent enough that you both knew it had a force strong enough to knock you both to your feet.

"I want to kiss you. Is that okay?"

"Right here?"

"Yeah."

Seunghyun liked to think he was a very patient man, but there was something about you that made the impulse control part of his brain go fuzzy as he leaned into you, his nose gently yours in the process and bumping against your nose ring.

Before you could react, his lips were on yours, his fingernails already carving his initials to your skin like he fucking owned you. And you loved that. You loved the way his lips felt against yours, the way his tongue danced against your bottom lip like it was a dance only you two knew.

You were the first to pull away, your lips curving into a tight ended smirk as you listened carefully to his uneven breathing.

"Did you want to fuck in the back?"

Seunghyun's brows knitted with confusion and curiosity.

"The back?"

"Yes... The back of the store. The back of the Hot Topic."

•┈┈┈••✦♡✦••┈┈┈•

Before tonight, Seunghyun had sworn the most beautiful thing he had ever seen was the moon– he would never openly admit that, maybe he would one day, but right now it still felt like a vulnerable secret that he'd hope to one day be able to represent his home country and visit the moon.

Now, Seunghyun still wanted to visit the moon, but the most beautiful thing he had ever seen was replaced with you. Maybe he was a little biased, but the way you looked with your back against the cold, poorly painted wall in the back of the building was somehow all he had been searching for the entirety of his trip. Seunghyun's hands were still at your hips with your legs now wrapped around his waist and your arms tightly around his neck as his body pressed into yours. It was almost painful at how much friction was happening between both of your skinny jeans right now.

Your nails were digging into the sensitive parts of the back of his neck as you pulled away briefly, his swollen lips almost forming a small pout when he felt your mouth no longer on his.

His lips parted to speak, but his brain failed to comprehend words as the taller man slowly closed his lips once again, feeling the more tender parts where you'd nipped at the skin.

There was no doubt you two would be fucking, but neither of you really knew when or if the two of you were comfortable in the situation you got yourselves into. You knew no one would walk in where you were, but the thought still lingered both of your minds before it dawned on you how little you'd care if someone did and how much you'd actually think it was the hottest thing.

You could feel yourself getting more antsy by the minute as one of your hands moved from his neck and slowly down his collarbones, down his clothed My Chemical Romance shirt, your almond shaped nails delicately teasing at the bare skin underneath as you finally stopped at the front of his jeans, causing the man against you to shiver in response, his cock practically begging to held in your palm.

Your thumb began to gently glide across the fabric to get a feel what you were up against, and you could definitely feel it. He was big. And honestly felt a little curved in all the best ways.

Maybe it was the way the charm on your nail design felt pressed against him, but Seunghyun was unable to keep his patience up for much longer as he leaned into you, his teeth grazing at the part where your collarbone meets your neck, the more sensitive area bulging out slightly like he was made to mark your skin. The canine part of his teeth felt like little tiny daggers in your skin as you moaned quietly, the vibration of your vocal cords shooting through him in the process.

"Seunghyun, please. Need to feel you in more ways than just through my hand palming you in your stupid jeans..."

Your words came out a lot needier than you'd planned, but the way you could feel him twitch inside your palm proved that he was thinking the same thing you were.

Soft murmurs were exchanged and bodies were moving and eventually you were completely exposed. You were shivering, but the air was warm as you watched Seunghyun watch you. His eyes were so dark that you were certain if not for the fluorescent lights flickering above you two, you would have not been able to tell he was still there.

His My Chemical Romance shirt still clung to his body as you titled your head only rightly. It was almost like he was afraid to fully commit to what was about to happen. You stepped forward, your back stinging slightly when it was no longer supported from the wall behind you. You'd made your way in front of him now, the height difference fully settling as you'd look up at him with innocence, the fake eyelashes you'd chose to wear that day were slowly fluttering. Before long, your almond nails were tracing down his chest once again, the feeling of his shirt gliding through your manicured nails with ease.

"Did you want to keep this on, emo boy, or do you just really loving teasing me?"

Seunghyun tensed at your touch. It was like he was fighting an inner battle of what he knew you both wanted vs what he could give.

"I, I- I can take it off..." you nodded. You did not want to pressure him, but you definitely felt more underdressed than him as you latched a few of your fingers into the fabric. It was a little comical to see him bare from the waist down but yet this silly little band t of his clung to his body like armor.

With your free hand, your palm wrapped around him like it was made to fit in your hand. He was definitely bigger than your hand could hold, but that did not stop you from grabbing what you could as you slowly moved your hand up and down, your thumb gently tracing the tip, the feeling of his precum coating your finger.

You moaned softly at the feeling on your fingers. You'd pumped him in your hand a few more times, his hips involuntarily bucking in response as you'd removed your hand entirely from him, hearing a low hiss escape his local cords. Without warning, you brought your fingers to your lips, parting them only slightly so he watch your every move as you'd licked your fingers clean of him as if it you'd just had the best meal of your life.

Before your brain had time to catch up, you were being lifted up off the ground, and once again, your back was being met with the wall once again. It did not take long for you to audibly gasp, your eyes widening at the sight of realizing Seunghyun had removed his shirt for you.

One of his hands was carefully holding you against the wall while the other was planted firmly close to your head, his nails desperately acting like they could tear the paint alone. His i lips attacked your neck again as the softer nibbles from earlier were now replaced with one thing– hunger, like he'd never had anything quite as good as you.

"Are you always this needy? I have not even started fucking you yet and you already acting like you need it bad. Been that long for you?"

What started off as a simple game of cat and mouse has turned into something much more serious. You'd opened your mouth to respond, maybe even say something equally as sassy, but before your thoughts could leave your mouth, his lips were already back on the sweet spot of your neck and his cock already lining up with you.

You whimpered at the contact.

It really had not been that long for you but it was a mixture of the way his lips curved against your neck and the way he was only lining up the tip and it already felt like a few inches were in you. Maybe because there was. He might not look like he was packing, or that he got bitches, but boy did it feel like 11 inches.

"Are you always this bratty right before someone gives you something?"

And you were.

Before you'd had time to think of something to say, he was already buried inside of you.

His movements were fast and sloppy, almost like he was afraid if he went too slow, you might not really be there. Maybe it was the way he'd curved inside of you, or maybe it was the way every time his hips jerked against yours, you could feel every goddamn inch.

At one point, Seunghyun had to go to the place dark inside of his mind where he thought about certain things so that he could control himself better. The canine part of his teeth that were once nipping at your neck were now chewing on the inside of his own cheek, thinking to anything to hold back the inevitable.

One of your free hands had made their way to the taller man's hair, the tip on the almond shape of your nail gracefully scratching at his scalp as your fingers latched into the top parts of his styled hair.

The room was filled with low, murmured moans escaping your vocal cords and the sound of his hips slamming into yours. Seunghyun opened his mouth to speak at one point, but his lips quickly closed as he already forgot the proper English words to speak.

You could feel yourself clenching around him, like his cock was made to be pleasuring you in this moment.

There was no doubt in your mind at how big he was, how big he felt, and it was almost pornographic how well he knew what to do. Your eyes began to flutter with both excitement and anticipation as the hand you had tangled in his roots now slid down both of your bodies, your own hand resting on the bottom part of your stomach as he thrust into you, feeling him from the outside.

"Seunghyun, please..."

"Please what? Communicate. Tell me what you need and I'll do it."

He was close, and he was sure he could tell you were too.

The sounds in the room began to vibrate off the walls, closing you both into what felt like an invisible bubble that only you two could feel and hear everything.

His cock began to twitch inside of you, and with a final snap of both your hips, he was done for and released himself inside of you.

Seunghyun rode his own high until he felt you release shortly after him, coating him almost completely, the rest slowly dripping down your right thigh as he was quick to remove himself from inside of you. The lack of contact made you audibly gasp at first, but you shortly after began to watch as the taller man sunk to his knees so he was at eye level with you, thumb gently gracing the side of your thigh that there was slight leakage.

"Can't have you making a mess now, can we, princess? Eyes on me."

You watched as his thumb rubbed circles into your skin like he was finding a way to imprint his fingerprints into you forever. Eventually, he'd pushed the remaining white liquid inside of you.

Once back to his feet, the two of you found each other smiling into the others eyes as you respectfully both assisted the other in putting clothes back on, giggling in the process at how tight the clothing felt after being off for so long. The walk out of the room you were just in was quiet, but not in the uncomfortable sense.

By the time you'd both walked out of the dimly lit store, the mall was still loud and lively like you two had never left. People still walked past, bags in hands, people were still laughing and talking like they had heard all the gossip in the world. Different scents still lingered in your nose like you could not tell if you wanted a piece of pizza or a perfume sample.

It had still felt like you two were in your own bubble that no on could hear or see you as the two of you walked outside together. Not holding hands, not even linking arms, but close enough to know you were present with each other.

You two were quiet, and not because the two of you felt shame, but because you were comfortable. You'd watched Seunghyun's body move in a different way now, leaning over, and picking a single flower from a nearby planted bush.

"I'll buy us tickets. Come to Warped Tour with me."

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚♡ɞ˚

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dessarchive · 3 months ago

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now introducing the future of music and entertainment, endless options of sound (eos)

eos is an app that i script into most of my drs. i got inspired to create it after coming across a video on youtube of someone re-designing spotifys UI. i’ve used spotify, apple music, amazon music, youtube music, and many more music streaming services and none of them ever lived up to my expectations, so i thought why not create what i’ve always wanted? i took a long hard look at all of the features i wish the current apps had and put them all into one. i posted about it before on my previous account but didn’t go into the actual details much. it started as a music streaming app when it was launched but became much more than that. it’s one of my favorite parts of my drs because i’m an avid music listener and the features are to die for. eos is the only music streaming app in my drs. i also have a ceo dr where i’m the ceo of it because this app has basically become my child!!! anyways here’s what i have after working on it for months!

eos was launched on october 31, 2001 by robyn fenty (she’s older LMAO) and aliyah haughton. the app immediately gained popularity as the first and only music streaming service. it was created as a space where everyone could enjoy music. years later it implemented audiobooks, podcasts, music videos, interviews, merch, and concert tickets. it stands out with its flawless performance that never crashes or has bugs, its exceptional algorithm for fresh experiences each playtime, and its features like eosoulmates that connects users through shared music tastes.

lyrics and subtitles are always available in any language desired by the user and the platform includes organization like no other. exclusive presale codes are able for top listeners of specific artists because the app has its own ticketing system. eos is free for all users as the founders wanted to make a space to unify people during life’s challenge. to maintain this while making sure artists are fairly paid, revenue is generated through a share of concert ticket and merchandise sales, in-app donations directly supporting artists, non-intrusive sponsorships and partnerships, and grants from philanthropic organizations. this guarantees that eos stays true to making music accessible while supporting creators and users globally.

to expand on existing sounds of music and entertainment, the service implemented dolby atmos to its highest quality with no extra price to artists for using it.

eos also features eos karaoke: sing it your way. within this are lyrics that are displayed in perfect sync with customizable highlighting options, while users can adjust the original vocals (mute, reduce, or add harmonies) for a personalized performance. advanced pitch tracking gives real-time feedback, along with timing guides and a practice mode for perfecting songs. voice effects like reverb, autotune, and fun filters are available to take things to a higher level or have fun with friends and family. dual-screen mode connects to tvs for party setups and users can enjoy duets with friends or group singing for up to 10 people. karaoke playlists are curated based on mood, listening habits, or vocal range. sessions can be recorded and shared with friends or on social media. a scoring system with feedback helps users improve their singing while earning fun badges. eos karaoke also offers live virtual karaoke rooms, offline mode for downloaded tracks, and customizable themes for lyric screens and backgrounds. a special kid-friendly mode ensures the fun for all age groups.

eos allows music and entertainment to be accessible, fun, and, immersive to everyone.

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xelasrecords · 1 month ago

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So, This Is a Mess

Caleb x Reader

You’re in a friends-with-benefits relationship with someone and Caleb knows. You know he knows, but that doesn’t make things easier.

Words: 4.5k

Masterlist | Read on AO3

The light is on when you drag your feet into your apartment. You try to be quiet, but Caleb appears from your room and catches your phantom. He rubs your shoulders, a soothing motion, a gentle reminder that he’s here. He sports an inscrutable expression on his face. This is how you cradle nothing in your palms. He doesn’t have to try hard; you float to him weightlessly and occupy the space around him until he leaves.

His skin sticks. It’s a balmy night. Wash away all remnants of dirt before you get to hold him back. Yes.

You step back. “I’m dirty. I’ll join you in bed after I clean up.”

Caleb lets his hands fall away. “Where have you been? I got my weekend off. I wanted to bring you to the new bakery down the street. Their apple pies smell heavenly.”

Guilt twinges in your stomach. You never have enough time with Caleb, yet you have wasted half a day for someone who doesn’t matter, his name just a string of numbers in your phone.

“Tomorrow?” you offer. “Wait for me. I’ll be right back.”

You spin on your heel. There’s nothing you would like to do more than rest with Caleb, but the persistent throbbing between your legs is distracting you. Too dry, the condom scratches, no lubricant, but do it anyway, we’re already here. It doesn’t happen often, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

If you suggest it first, you can save yourself from wondering whether he would continue despite your protests. You don’t have to discover how cruel men can be in times of need. His flesh needs yours. So what? You don’t always have to be in the mood to fuck. Simply insert his cock and off with the pounding.

Caleb must have known. Not everything, but enough. The bathroom mirror doesn’t lie. Lipstick that smudges your chin, hair that holds the proof of being wrapped around a rough hand, bruises smattering your breasts. Caustic marks from teeth and nails. His grip was strong, his sharp bites even more.

It’s good to forget. When Caleb has to return to Skyhaven, it’s good to be preoccupied with pain that isn’t inflicted by him. Caleb means well, but Caleb also hurts you. You collect pain like amulets, switching one out with the other so you’re not consumed by one constant all the time. It’s a cowardly move, sorry Caleb.

You pin your hair up and quickly rinse yourself under the shower head. A gentle, brittle-voiced reminder from another time rings in your ear: My precious granddaughter, you’ll fall sick if you shower with cold water at night. But Grandma is dead and you have grown to embrace the aches in your body. One more won’t hurt.

You have half a mind to insert a few fingers into you, bringing yourself to the climax that you were robbed of, but it’s too sore. He had told you to do it yourself after he was done, but you didn’t feel like putting on a show for him. He would have put down his phone and watch, sure, but spreading your legs for another man’s entertainment feels too performative and less focused on your bliss.

It’s not like you haven’t tried it. Even when the body you’re pleasuring is yours, the attention is still on him. Men get to have a lot of things without asking while you have to fight hard to keep them for yourself. What’s yours isn’t always yours. Anyway you don’t want to feel the shame washing over you after you tip over and listen to him cooing over how sexy you are when what you feel is akin to a commodity. At least sex workers get paid. You get to be sent home without being walked out. Taxi fare on you. Head clouded over the unfairness of this situation.

But you wanted it. It was a fair trade. You should stop pitying yourself.

You’ve kept Caleb waiting for too long. You sigh and spray dry shampoo on your hair before clothing yourself. Your satisfaction can come later.

Caleb is slouching against the bed headboard when you open the door. For a moment, you lean against the frame, watching him. This is the person you have hurt too. He’s never approved of you sleeping around, not on the basis that women who do are whores, but on the principle that you should be saved for the best. Caleb hasn’t yet found the best suited for you. You don’t care much about it. If this is your lot in life, you’ll accept it and march ahead.

Without a word, Caleb levitates you into the space between his legs and summons a hairbrush, parting your mussed hair with patience. Some habits don’t die, and despite the very adult things you just did, you wish to crawl back into Caleb’s embrace like a little child. He provides safety like no other when he consoles you. You can do no wrong in his eyes. He’ll always forgive you because you’re more important than your mistakes. He’s repeated this so often that it’s become a mantra of your own.

“Were you with the guy I caught here last month?” Caleb’s voice is deceptively light.

You nod. “I don’t juggle multiple guys at once. It’s too much work.”

“So you count him and me as one?”

“You’re different.”

“You’re right.” He chuckles louder than the conversation warrants it. “I’m clearly better than them.”

You smile up at him. “Yeah, and I’m not fucking you. That’s how I can tell. I’ve never felt you inside me.”

Caleb pauses his movement but quickly gathers the locks of your hair and lays them over your shoulders. “Is just sex enough for you?”

You lean back until your body is resting on top of his, the hard planes of his chest against your head as he wraps his large arms around your chest. “I don’t know. I don’t let myself think too much about it. I’d get depressed if I did. Then I wouldn’t know what to do next,” you say. “Do you hate me for this?”

“I can never hate you for anything.”

You frown. “That’s worse. I wish you could resent me a little. Infinite forgiveness is too heavy to carry.”

“Then stop doing things that make you feel guilty.” Caleb pokes your cheek. “You also have the option to be happy, choose it.”

What would that happiness look like? Being with him? Does Caleb truly believe choosing him would make you happy? You’re sure it wouldn’t work for the other way around even if it did. His joy around you glitches like a damaged mask. He forces himself to be happy for your sake and thinks you don’t notice. He can’t choose himself either.

Then there’s your dissatisfaction with him because Caleb can’t give you enough. He always offers you just enough truth, just enough sugar to keep you satiated for some time. You’re tired of chasing shadows whenever you’re with him. He never lets you exist beside him.

The men in your lives tend to give what they think is suitable for you without considering your needs. You can’t blame them for it. Not when you’re the common denominator here.

“I am happy.” You grab Caleb’s forefinger and point it to the middle of your chest. “With you like this, I am.”

“You haven’t laughed in a long time and I’m scared I’m the cause of it.” You can feel his ragged exhale against your ear. “You have been out of reach ever since you discovered that I’m alive.”

“I’m not out of reach. I’m literally surrounded by you right now.” You squeeze his bare legs as confirmation.

Caleb wraps them tighter around you. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

You do know. “I’m sorry.”

No matter how much you want him, you can’t have him. Caleb will always leave. He can claim he’ll give you everything and whisk you away to a faraway island where nobody knows about your existence, but those are whimsical dreams. He is tied to his fleet and you can’t let him in to see him walk away. There are things he needs to deal with before he’s free to be with you. You don’t want to tie him down. Better to be alone than to amplify each other’s suffering.

Caleb turns your body to face him and you jolt, the scars scrape against your clothes. Now that the pleasure is gone, all left on you are the marks of plunder. No, that isn’t the right word. You weren’t forced to do anything you didn’t want to, but you might have given more than you could take tonight. It’s often like this. You don’t know how far you’ve pushed until you take in the aftermath. The clean-up is more exhausting than the journey. What have you got out of this arrangement? You’re not even sated, not even happy.

Horror slashes across Caleb’s face. “You’re hurt. Where are you hurt?”

You shake your head and bury your face into his chest, inhaling the scent of aftershave that clung to his t-shirt. “Just generally,” you mumble.

But Caleb isn’t having it. He pulls you up again so he can scan your body, but there’s nothing he can detect unless he strips you. Your sex partner is careful that way. Can’t attract unwanted attention. It’d be an extra workload that he would have to put in. Not that you want it either. Keep things as easy as possible.

Caleb won’t take off your clothes. You used to imagine he would, but now you can’t breach the topic without shattering your fragile connection. One wrong move and he’ll retreat into space. One wrong move and he’ll deprive you of the outside world and lock you down. To be near or far from him strangles you in equal amounts.

“Caleb, I’m fine. These things happen.”

A concerned divot forms between his brows. “Tell me the truth. Do you like mixing violence with sex?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you say. “I just want the sex.”

“No, pip-squeak.” You cringe at the nickname. It’s as if Caleb used it to remind you of your age, that you’re younger and more naïve and therefore should listen to him. It paints a jarring contrast from the topic you’re discussing. He runs his hand through his dark hair and takes a deep breath. “Have you talked about your preferences with him?”

You shrug. “I was on board the first time he did it to me. I wanted to try it too.” You want to be pushed. Tested. Feel everything instead of nothing. Sex can be a punitive relief if one is desperate enough.

“But did he ask whether you liked it?” Caleb presses. “Does he care if you don’t?”

You wave it away with a gesture. “My body gives away enough reaction.”

It doesn’t need to be said that when your body isn’t reacting enough, he’ll toss you aside. But that’s fine because he apologises and comes around eventually. He greets you with a relieved smile and pays for the lingerie he wants you to wear. It gives you as much relief in return that you’re still desired. You never kid yourself into believing there’s something more, so you shouldn’t expect an above-and-beyond treatment from a casual lay.

You must have learned this infinite capacity of forgiveness from Caleb.

Caleb cups your jaw and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “He doesn’t sound like a nice person.”

The defence slips out of your mouth before you can mull it over. “Occasionally he’s nice.”

“And how much more occasionally bad should you take?” asks Caleb softly.

He’s starting to infuriate you. No matter how bad this guy is, he is your choice. You decide who to sleep with. You decide how far you want to get hurt and which pain you want to go through. There’s less risk in toying with a near stranger than Caleb. They’re disposable, he’s not.

“Right now, there’s only him,” you say, your tone clipped. “Drop this subject. I’m tired.”

“You deserve to be with someone who cares about your interests,” Caleb insists. “Someone who sees you more than just a body to be used. A casual arrangement doesn’t mean he can treat you like an object. Love yourself more. You deserve better.”

You let out a humourless laugh. “Who will treat me that way? Introduce me to that person then. I’ll fuck him for you.”

Caleb grinds his jaw and pinches your chin to meet his gaze. “No.”

You climb on top of his thighs. “Why not? Scared that I’ll have a better sex life and leave you behind? Maybe you like me in this situation. You get to be my saviour after a boring fuck. Console me until I feel fine again.”

Caleb glares at you in disbelief. “Trust me, I get no enjoyment from seeing you sleeping with other guys.”

“So, what gets you off if cuckolding isn’t your thing?” If he won’t back down, you won’t either.

“You’re committed to being a menace tonight.” Caleb’s eyes flit across your determined expression and he shakes his head. “But sorry, I’m not in the mood to entertain you.”

This is exactly what you hate about him. Never says the truth. Never brave enough to claim what he wants. Does he think you would stick around forever just because he wills it? You feel like a side-piece in everyone’s lives. You’re wanted but not kept, as if there’s only so much of you they can handle before they run away screaming, regretting ever letting you in.

“I thought you wanted me, but you steer clear from me like you’d contract a deadly disease if you get too close,” you say.

“That’s not what I’m scared of.” At your challenging look, Caleb continues, “You don’t want to know the kind of thoughts I have about you when you’re around.”

You bunch his shirt into a ball in your fist and pull him closer. “Only when I’m around?”

Caleb tries to avert his eyes, but you yank at his shirt harder. He looks down, sounding hoarse. “No, not only then.”

With his lips in such close proximity, it would be so easy to steal a taste. His body is within reach also. Every cell in you calls towards him, and really, you would give yourself to him if things were less complicated. If you weren’t still tangled with another guy. The relationship is not exclusive, but you don’t want to do Caleb the disservice of not bestowing him your full care and attention.

But maybe a kiss is fine. Just one kiss.

“May I...” you trail off, your fingers dancing across his lips.

Caleb kisses your fingers and closes his eyes, his breathing harsh. Time stretches on for eternity before he finally speaks. “I don’t know.”

You bend down to press your lips against your own fingers, imagining it was him you were kissing. Your heart breaks for him and yourself, for the circumstances you’ve put yourselves in. “All right, I won’t force you.”

“We can cuddle,” murmurs Caleb into your skin. He doesn’t want to part from you. You don’t have to ask him to know that it’s true. A part of him is still naked for you to read. He hasn’t completely shrouded himself away. You hold on to this truth. “Like the old times.”

You wriggle into his arms and he holds you flush against his body, but it feels nothing like the old times.

Your limbs are too long now and you’re too aware of each other’s presence. Proximity has never quickened your pulse before. It used to be enough just to be embraced and fall asleep together. Now you’re restless, your mind reaching for the mirage that’s always out of reach.

“I can’t hold you too.” You tilt your head at Caleb, watching his Adam’s apple bob when your breath fans across it. If only you could graze it without implying anything romantic or sensual. It’s tough to know where the line is drawn and who is drawing the line. “You distanced yourself from me first.”

Caleb looks pained. “I thought it was for the better.”

“Then why didn’t you disappear again after I left?”

“I thought about it,” he admits. “But acting on my thoughts is harder when I’ve seen the extent of danger you are in.”

“The safest I am is by your side,” you echo his past sentiment. It’s not a statement you entirely believe in. You are the safest with him, but you also feel the smallest.

You try to remind yourself that being small can be a good thing. Being hard to catch is freedom in itself. If nobody notices you, you don’t have to notice them too. Then, the physicality of your existence can be erased temporarily. Contorting yourself to fit the shape of those who want you has always been your strong suit. This isn’t much different.

“Sometimes I wish you could stand behind me,” says Caleb. “Use me as your shield.”

“And let them break you? A broken shield wouldn’t do anyone good. You’d only be buying time before they get to me.”

Caleb catches your wrist, his eyes a fervid fire that’s been more and more familiar to you. “They won’t. I’ll protect you,” he swears. “Let me protect you from this guy too. Do you even know his name?”

“I have a feeling you’d know more about him than me.” You hold your gaze and Caleb glances away. You’re aware of the kind of things he’s up to to keep you safe. There hasn’t been any illusion of him being sweet and trusting since his revival. You still can’t decide whether you’re fine with this new constraint of freedom.

“I hate to see you keep getting hurt,” he says.

“Tell me that again when you’ve stopped hurting me,” you speak flatly. “I knew it’d be like this since I rang him up. This is manageable.”

Caleb winces. “You shouldn’t have to keep managing your pain. Eradicate it if possible.”

You roll your eyes. “Speak for yourself.”

“It’s impossible in my case.”

“Then you have no say in mine.” When Caleb is still adamant about looking everywhere but you, you repeat with more force, “Do not interfere with my relationship. I’ll cut you off if you do.”

His jaw drops. The betrayal in his face isn’t faked. “You’re choosing him over me. I thought I was different.”

You clamp his mouth shut. “I’m choosing my freedom.”

“What about me?” he asks. “Where am I on your list? I remember how you used to follow me around, loudly proclaiming that I was the coolest person you’d ever known. That you were so lucky to have me. You were so little that I could fit you in the palm of my hand.” Caleb’s smile is sad as he drops his head.

“I didn’t know I was a hamster.” You punch his shoulder lightly. “I don’t rank you. You’re just here, in my heart.” You grasp his left hand, the one that can still feel you, and hold it against the left side of your ribs. “You float in my orbit always.”

From the table, your phone chooses the most inopportune moment to buzz and your hand reflex chooses the most inopportune time to pick it up. It’s automatic, groomed by days of waiting by your phone just to get a short reply from him. When attention is dangled in front of you, you can’t help but bite it, convince him that you’re still interested so he won’t go away, never mind how desperate you must look.

Pride only hurts you in the long run and that isn’t the kind of pain you revel in.

“Is it him?” Caleb’s hand curls into a fist. He could punch through your ribcage and you would allow him. Offer him your beating heart to make him happy. As proof of love, as repentance.

You hum in affirmation.

“Do you have a text-based relationship too?” he asks.

“When either of us is bored.”

“Well, you’re not bored now.” Caleb snatches the phone out of your grasp. “He already had you. Is that not enough? Let me see what else he wants to take.”

Your heart pounds. Caleb witnessing your flirting is the last thing you need. You shift your body up the bed so your head is next to Caleb’s, and relax after reading the text. He merely apologised if he was too rough. Maybe should delay the next fuck until you’ve healed. Drop a text when you’re ready. He’ll wait.

Caleb scoffs. “What a polite gentleman.”

“I told you. He can be nice.”

The glare Caleb throws at you is eerily reminiscent of his scolding when you tried to get out of your study sessions. “Nice is offering to bring you to the hospital and fetch your medicine. Nice is not pushing you when you’re not into it.”

“He’ll wait for me to heal,” you point out.

Caleb slow-claps. “Congratulations, you’re dating a dog.”

“Give me my phone. I want to reply to him.” You try to take it back, but Caleb shoves it into his back pocket, fully knowing your hands aren’t grubby enough to venture to his backside. Not anymore. It won’t be an innocent mischief if you do.

“He said he’ll wait. Make him wait. Reserve your speedy response for me.” Caleb pats his pocket in triumph. “How often does he text you anyway? Every day?”

Having Caleb barring you does help. If you leave him on read, you can live in the fantasy that you hold all the power, that this time, he’s the one kept on his toes. The moment you send a message, you’ll have to play the waiting game again, anxiety multiplying as you imagine the things that keep him from sparing a few seconds for you. You should prolong this sweet spot as long as you can.

You’re grateful that Caleb sends you constant updates about his ever-changing schedule. At least with him, you don’t have to guess where his attention lies. Well, not as much. He also has his moments.

You hope he won’t disappear again.

“Not really,” you mutter.

He raises his brows. “Do you want him to?”

A familiar shame burns your face. Desperation turns you into a fool and it always, always shows its face to the person you want to hide it from the most. “It’s not like how I talk to you,” you hurry to explain. “We’re not close. We don’t cuddle like this. He doesn’t know how to comfort me like you do.”

This too, is desperation in its more rudimentary form. You don’t want Caleb to assume things that aren’t true and lose him completely. You don’t want him to be so furious that he cuts off all of your social network. You need to stabilise his emotions before they go haywire. He needs to be calm for you to be calm.

“No one knows you like I do,” Caleb responds in a low voice. There’s a ferocity in it that sends a pleasant shiver down your back. “He may have touched your body, but I’m the one who takes care of you. No one should be this familiar with every tic and quirk of yours. It’s my duty to know you and remember you. No one else’s. Don’t give your everything to him. You won’t have anything left in the end.”

“Do you think it’d be any different if I give myself to you instead?” you whisper.

Caleb nods. “Because I’ll give myself to you too. You won’t be alone anymore.”

You almost sob at his sincerity. It’s a promise he can’t fulfil, surely he knows that. Being with Caleb will still leave you lonely because he never completely lets you in. His idea of giving himself to you doesn’t mirror yours. The way he loves you is exhausting. You don’t want him to wreck himself for you. He never stops to think about the toll it has on the person who has to watch him break over and over.

You’re not that selfish.

“Caleb, I love you, but—”

He presses a finger to your mouth before you finish the sentence. “Don’t say you love me then follow it with a contradiction.” Caleb’s voice cracks and along with that, your resolve to set your foot down. “I’d rather go on with my life without hearing it from you.”

His eyes waver and you know that he’s waiting for you to refute, to tell him that you can say the three words and let them take shape as a lone entity, but—there’s always a but. Love is never easy between the two of you. It’s a fact set in stone from the moment you were set in the same household as him.

An urge to apologise bubbles up your throat. Would he accept an apology, or would you be gifting him an apple laced with poison?

In the end, you just nod. “Okay.”

It is not the answer Caleb is hoping for.

You turn your back against him so you won’t have to see what kind of poison he has bit into. You’re a bad apple. It must be tiring to deal with you. Only a matter of time before he weeds you out. There’s an expiration date to everything. People die and affection can be lost. You’re not the exception to the rule.

With caution, Caleb gathers his arm around your waist and kisses the back of your head. This kiss is allowed. It’s too solemn to escalate to anything more. You don’t look up, don’t make eye contact. Keep tears from spilling.

“For what it’s worth,” Caleb murmurs into your hair, “I love you too.”

You bite the inside of your cheek until blood explodes into your mouth.

You wish to forget it. The first time Caleb confesses without the protective film of platonic love shouldn’t be like this. You pat his hand with a steady rhythm. “There are better people to love out there.”

“My best is you. You’re my reason to live.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not.” Caleb drags you into the concave space between you until every inch of your body is touching. Your stomach flutters from the firm press of his arm despite it all. “Go to sleep. I’ll patch you up if your body is still sore tomorrow.”

You want to talk more, but what else is there to say? You possess the power to hurt him, you have used it to your advantage, and Caleb just lets you. This proves that the closeness he yearns for will only ruin him.

Remorse twists in your gut without the ability to free itself and make things right. Caleb is better than you. He always makes you feel better. You suspect there’s nothing much you do that doesn’t make things worse.

You chant a litany of apologies into the night. Nobody can absolve you from this sin. It’s a burden you have to bear on your own.

Footnotes:

I wanted to write about the grey area in sex where it’s consensual but you can’t shake off the feeling of being used after, and how Caleb would realistically react to it based on the limited information he’s gleaned.

I like exploring how Caleb and MC’s codependency shows up in different scenarios. It holds so much power to either make or break them. Combine this with a reader who never puts themselves first, trapping themselves in the FWB relationship and adding to the distance from Caleb... It was fun to dig into how insecurity can derail the relationship you care about the most.

There are a few mentions of Grandma and death to show that the reader is still affected by her death. I think grief is sneaky this way, making itself known even when you don’t realise it’s influencing your thoughts and decisions.

At this point, it’s a rite of passage to put all my blorbos through a complicated relationship at least once. I wrote the first draft in one day because I’m obsessed with making Caleb suffer. Sorry. He’s just so angst-shaped to me. I can’t imagine him in a simple happy setting. Maybe one day. Canon source doesn’t even allow him to.

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#xela writes #caleb x reader #caleb x you #caleb #love and deepspace #lads caleb #lads #lnds #caleb angst #caleb comfort #caleb fic #xia yizhou #love and deepspace fanfic

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tarotbyjam24 · 3 months ago

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Pick a pile : What if you were kid again

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Pile 1. Pile 2.

Likes , reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated 💗 Thankyou for stopping by let's dive in ☄️ Choose the pile you feel most drawn to 🧸

Disclaimer: this is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so 🕊️

Pile एक

Hi pile 1 if you were kid again you'll be having no worries or you just don't think about details that much . You'll be like a famous kids with whom everyone wants to be friends who seems cool to other kids. A kid who may have latest trending shoes , clothes, games ,etc and that's why all other kids wanna be friends with you. You are your parents eye's apple and probably be the single child as well to your parents and that's why they spoil you so much and love to keep taking care of you and you don't take advantage of it and be a spoiled brat you yourself are a hardworker and may excel in studies and other games competitions in school . You may often go on trips with your parents and they take photos of you there while keeping the surrounding things as the props for you. You may also like to take care of your body by eating healthy and doing excercises . You're just a perfect child my family would want to have by replacing me lol 😂 if you were a girl you parents have spoiled you with those dope kitchen sets , babies and barbies and they've loved the way you act with those toy babies and how you mother them haha 🤭 when you were born they took so many of your baby pics and even got a photoshoot done for you to cherish those images and memories . They will dress in pink dresses with the bows all over the sleeves so cute and even braid your hairs and put bunny clips in them. You may also be fond have getting your pictures clicked so your mum always took your pics and you posed for them very elegantly such a model from young age hahaaa. You loved your bath time so much and always took moments to enjoy it and be in touch with water for a little long than a usual kid will spend. You loved going to your balcony and enjoy the sky from there and see birds and butterflies passing from there . You may even like plucking flowers and watering the plants with your liddlle hands . In evening time your parents took you out on evening walks with them and there you played with other kids and also enjoyed petting dogs. You may even wave hi to strangers and smile at them and they totally loved how much cute you were. You liked going to bed while keeping fairy lights on around your bed . As a kid you may have loved eating fruits specially blue-purple fruits like blueberries, purple grapes , etc

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Pile दो

Hi pile 2 , if you were kid you are gonna listen to anyone around you and all you gonna do is whatever you want to do and be a bratty child whom everyone likes . You are called a active child who likes to bringing trouble to others lol . You were a naughty child in school too. When teachers told you to go right you went to left lol. You may have your own group of naughty kids and lived your childhood fully as you know being naughty is what makes the childhood worth it and makes us nostalgic when we grew up. You may have played the king and it's kingdom game so much with your friends where you acted like king few friends acted like courtiers and few others like army and rest as the people residing in your kingdom you were such a mighty and giver king hahaa 😂 you were a super creative kid . Who liked to transform things and do diys . You liked to dance in the parties . You liked being in limelight and being the center of attention. You liked to play in the backyard of your house with your friends on the sunny day . You created bedsheet tents with your friends in the backyard and have your own lil party there. Even tho as a kid you were perceived as super naughty child but when you were alone you liked thinking about your life and being a serious kid for a once in a while . You may have liked going on your rooftop and enjoy the ambience around you . You loved learning about geography like being a fact kid who knows so many facts and always being like do you know this fact ? Then saying it and people going like woww he know too much . You were a multitasker kid who liked to switch between things when they get bored up with things . You were the kid who got themselves enrolled in so many classes during vacations. You were fond of learning and trying new things. You were interested in mystery and thrilling movies. You loved instrumental music as a kid . You liked watching the waves at sea . As a kid you may even have a childhood sweetheart with you you promised to marry in future and even did a small marriage play with them like kneeling infront of them and saying I love you to them even your naughty friends supported this play of you both . I need such friends in life lol who always have your back in good and worst partners in crime. You liked wearing caps like it was part of your fashion.

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I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀Bless you and have a nice day🌸🐰 I'd love to hear which pile you chose

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freshxsturniolo · 1 year ago

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4th July - part 4 - chris sturniolo x reader

pt1 pt2 pt3

you smile as you re-enter chris' kitchen, cautious that you may have slightly longer in there that needed whilst blind panckingly texting your best friend, but if chris thinks anything of it he doesn't say. he smiles as he turns around to look at you remerge around the corner to the kitchen at the same he's taking both of your drinks across to the couch. when you follow him, you notice he's already set up your food and blankets, and netflix is already on the tv.

"this is so sweet" you laugh, as you take a seat down on the big couch, a smile escaping your lips at the soft feel. chris places your drinks down on the table and sits beside you, his comforting smell washing over you.

the drive back to his place after getting your food to take out had been intense to say the least. whilst getting your food, chris had insisted he paid, and he had held your hand the entire time whilst you waiting for your number to be called out and your food to be collected. his thumb running circles on your hand as you continued chatting about everything and anything. you asked him about his most recent trips to vegas, he asked you about your upcoming trips, and it felt like you had known him a lifetime whilst still learning so many things about him. his little quirks like when he laughed he screwed up his eyes slightly, the way he tugged at his bottom lip with his free hand sometimes when he was deep listening to you.

but the car ride home had been filled with some sort of energy. your conversation had dimmed almost, but the silence was anything but awkward. you had almost suppressed the speed limit the entire way home and chris was unbuckled and out of the car within seconds of you turning off your ignition when you got back to his house.

"can i use your bathroom?" you had asked when he finally bought you upstairs too his kitchen. and it wasn't really for the want of needing to use it, but more so you could breath and comprehend yourself for a second. you hadn't had sex in fucking ages and you just knew it was coming.

you weren't aware, of course, but chris busying himself with setting up your food and switching on netflix on the tv whilst spreading out some blankets was his way of composing himself too, because he wanted to rip you from the bathroom and not give you a single second to think.

as soon as he sits down, you turn to look at him, but he's already looking at you. you see his adams apple bop up as he takes a swallow before he turns to the tv, picking up the remote from the side of him. you close your eyes in composure for a second before you hear his voice.

"anything in particular you wanna watch?" he asks, clicking onto his profile and waiting for it to load.

"i dont mind" you smile, but you don't move a muscle. he turns around and gives you an eye.

"come on. i wanna learn more about you. whats your type of shit?"

you laugh at his choice of words and finally feel yourself relax. chill. this might not go where you thought it was going to. if only you could tell the sweet burning feeling inbetween your legs that.

"i like a horror" you admit with a shrug, and chris smirks.

"so does nick" he says now, scrolling down to the horror section and picking the first film that comes up. you don't even notice what it is.

"you dont?" you ask, and he laughs, placing the remote down and looking at you again. the time his arm moves to the back of the sofa, his fingers dangerously close to your shoulder.

"they're not my first pick, but for you ..."

and then he looks down at your lips. he notices your breath catch as you look down at his too, and then he leans forward. the arm around the sofa brushing against the back of your neck, fingertips touching your shoulder.

"thats incredible sweet. in a harrowing way." you say, but it comes out a whisper as you lean forward slightly too.

he looks at you up and down, eyes lingering on your legs for a second before his free hand connects with your thigh.

"your burgers getting cold" he says, and then he squeezes. he squeezes your damn fucking thigh.

"im not hungry all of a sudden." you whisper. your face is inches from his now.

"i am." he says, and your face drops. cheeks flushing. theres no way your reading the room wrong? surely? but he smirks, moving his hand from your thigh to your jaw to stop you from moving backwards. "just for something else instead"

he's teasing. you're burning. "oh yeah? what for?"

he pulls your jaw up. "you."

you smile. "better eat up then."

"fuck." he grows, and then his lips are on yours. he's pushing you backwards with the kiss so you're sandwiched in-between the back of the sofa and his body, your hands immediately coming up to his hair as his arm wraps around the back of your neck, hand on your jaw now in your hair. its not comfortable, but you can't pull yourself away from his for a second as you frantically pull at him.

but then he stops, and you're both panting as he pulls away for just a second.

"im not fucking you on the couch" he says.

"i don't mind" you pant, needing the friction between you sorted out immediately, and he groans as he leans in to give you another kiss, but its only short.

"i said i'd be a gentleman and take you to dinner and i bought you back to my damn house, at least let me fuck you in bed."

you laugh, putting your head back as he stands up before he drags you by your arms until you're standing up.

"there will be plenty of opportunity for couch fucks" he mumbles, before dragging you to the stairs.

"who said so?" you ask, practically running behind him as you reach the top of the stairs and he makes the descend to what you assume is his bedroom. when you reach the bottom of the stairs, he spins around to face you.

"oh youre so mine after this" he says, and then his lips are on yours again, only this time he doesnt let go. he spins around, his hands coming to your face and your hands coming to his hips as he starts to push you backwards. you're both stumbling, tripping over each others feet before your back hits his bedroom door.

"ouch, fuck" you mutter. the shock startling you more than it actually hurt.

"shit, sorry" chris says, but his lips are back on yours as he fumbles for the door handle. when he pushes it open, he pushes you backwards still. his bedroom immediately smells of him. his aftershave mixed with just the general smell of boys, but it isn't bad, in fact its quite lovely, but you don't have much time to take notice before you finally reach his bed.

"i promise i'll try to be more romantic next time ,but i fucking need you. like now." he says, and climbs onto the bed on top of you. you chuckle, crawling backwards until your head meets his pillow and then his lips are on yours again, his hands coming to the waist of your shorts as he tugs at them. you raise up, giving him access to pull them off your waist and then you do the rest of the work to get them down past your feet.

he looks down at your body, your black laced thong on full display and a groan escapes him again.

"you're already so wet"

he hasn't even touched you. he can see it.

you would usually feel embarrassed, but something about chris just makes you feel at ease.

"do something about it, please" you whimper, and his head snaps back to yours, a grin on his face.

"oh, so you beg?" he says.

“first and only time, christopher” you say, and you waste no time pulling at the waistband of his sweatpants.

he crashes his lips to yours again and for a second, you’re a tangling panting mass of limbs as he gets you of your panties and you get him out of his sweatpants, and then he stops, looking down at your exposed lower half and you him. he’s already hard, precum on his tip, and he looks you back in the eyes.

“you ready?” he says, and you nod, grabbing hold of his neck to pull him closer to you again.

you feel his hands move to his cock, giving himself a few strokes before you feel him at the top of your entrance, a small gasp escaping your lips before he pushes into you. it takes him no time at all.

he stays still for a second, looking at you, before he starts to pound. you close your eyes, enjoying every second of it as your hands come onto his shoulders. his still got his tshirt on but you can feel his muscles moving as he thrusts harder and deeper into you every time.

“jesus, chris” you whimper, and you open your eyes to see his head bowed. he’s panting, and when he looks back up his eyes are closed in pleasure. you almost cum there and then, but he opens his eyes and a mischievous smile plays on his lips.

“you feel absolutely divine” he says, and then his eyes scan down to your chest.

“can i?” he asks, and you realise immediately what he wants. you nod, and he takes no time to swipe one of his hands up your shirt. a chuckle escaping you when he realises you’re not wearing a bra.

“fuck, pretty girl.”

“i’m gonna cum, chris” you pant as his fingers pinch at your hard nipples.

“look at me” he says, and you do. right in his eyes.

sthen he’s thrusting deeper into you, big hard pounds that make your entire body shake, the headboard of his bed banging onto his bedroom wall and you thank god his brothers aren’t home, because the noises you’re making are insane. you try to hush them, biting down on your lip, and the action alone finishes chris.

“FUCK” he shouts. he actually shouts. and you’re finished too. a huge moan of pleasure escaping your lips.

you stay in place, eyes on each other for the next second, before a laugh escapes the both of you. he moves his hand from your boob and slaps it on the pillow at the side of your best, before slowly pulling out of you. weirdly enough, the sensation feels fantastic. you let out another shudder, and a laugh escapes him before he flops down at the side of you.

“some first date, huh?” he pants, and you laugh. really laugh.

“the best” you say.

you feel him twist around on his side, and you move your head to look at him. he’s smiling at you, his eyes all hazy, his hair a mess, and you melt right into it. your heart feeling full.

“will you stay for a bit?” he asks.

“of course” you say back.

“okay good. cause i actually want to do movies on the couch with you”

you can feel yourself blushing. he sees it too and he smiles and dips down, planting another kiss to your lips.

“you can borrow some sweats if you want?” he says now, twisting around and standing off the bed. you’d be lying if you didn’t say you look straight down at his exposed bottom half. he notices and only smirks. “or we can go for round two?”

you laugh, sitting yourself up finally. “maybe that couch fuck is on the cards” you shrug.

“i fear you’re the woman of my dreams.” he says, laughing as he walks off in the direction of his wardrobe. after a second he throws you some sweatpants and one of his hoodies, and you smile. you didn’t need either. you were perfectly fine with putting on your own clothes again. but something about wearing his clothes after sex just felt so much better.

he excuses himself to the bathroom and you stand up, putting on his sweatpants and laughing as they hang loosely, before taking off your t-shirt and putting on his hoodie. you feel cosy, the clothes wrapping around you like a huge blanket and that slight smell of him wrapped across it. you pick up your discarded shorts from the bottom of the bed and fold them up, grabbing your t-shirt next, before you smirk as you pick up his pillow, the one that clearly is more worn down than the other, and you stick the t-shirt under it. he can find that later when you're back at home.

when he reemerges, he looks down at you and smiles.

"they look good on you" he smiles, and you give him a twirl which makes him laugh.

"come on," he says, walking over and grabbing your hand before he opens the bedroom door. you can hear the movie you'd left playing and can smell the food you had left, and suddenly your stomach growls.

"reckon we could reorder some food?" you say as he pulls you up the stairs, and he laughs.

"absolutely. what do you-"

and then he stops when he reaches the top of the stairs, and you walk straight into the back of him.

"oh, hey" a voice says, and your eves divert to the living room couch, where nick and matt sit, smirks on their faces and they sip from your abandoned drinks from earlier. you look up at chris, who's cheeks have turned crimson, and then you look back at his two brothers, a laugh escaping your lips as you hide your face into chris' arm.

TAGLIST : @spencerstits @chrissturnsss @slut4chriss @valkatriee @sturnsjtop @viiiwwwee @gwennysturniolo @melanch0lybby @sturnioloblues @mattstrombolii @sturnsbella @hearteyes4chris @le4hsblog

#chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt stuniolo fanfic #jake webber #tara yummy

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cutestcouch · 8 days ago

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Whipped

A Drabble ִ ࣪𖤐⋆

Stephen glass x Reader !

Warnings: fluff! Stephen spoiling you, him being dorky and in love with you. Flustered Stephen

Pictures from Pinterest ! Dividers from @cafekitsune & @anitalenia <3 thank you for reading, proofread and feedback appreciated! This one comes out a day after lazy but happy birthday Evie ! Love you @speaknow-sw

Stephen wouldn’t call himself a pro when it came to girls, but he knew what they liked. But it had been six months since the both of you started dating, so he knew so much about you already.

The sun was peaking in through the curtains, casting a warm contour over your soft features. Soon enough the smell of breakfast wafted into your nose, stirring you from a peaceful sleep.

You stretched languidly, eyes adjusting to the bright sun. Walking out of the room and into the kitchen with nothing but a shirt and panties on, feet pattering before you saw Stephen making your plate. ‘ Good mornin Stevie’ you smiled.

He turned with a smile ‘ good morning sweethear-‘ his words died in his throat when he saw your attire.. well lack of. Clearing his throat, he spoke up with a flustered expression. ‘ Happy birthday baby, I made you breakfast’ he held up your plate with a dorky smile.

Your heart fluttered at the gesture, taking the plate of bacon and eggs from him. A golden piece of toast with jelly smeared on it perfectly. ‘ Thank you’ smiling up at him, pecking his lips softly.

Sitting down at the table with his own breakfast, he surprisingly had the day all planned out. It’s not like you had many plans for your birthday anyways. You quietly listened as he explained what he wanted to do with you.

After breakfast he planned on taking you to the mall and letting you get whatever, and afterwards you would pick lunch of your choice. Which frankly, sounded pretty good. You wanted to spend the day with him anyways.

‘ I really wanna make this day special for you.. even if I can’t give you sex. I’m still pretty nervous about the whole thing, but—‘ you shushed him, finger on his soft lips. Taking a sip of your apple juice, ‘ As long as I’m spending the day with you okay?’

Hours later you two had been wandering the mall for a while, bags in both of Stephen’s hands. He just followed you around happily like a puppy dog, just eager to get you anything you wanted. Trailing behind as you strolled into the jewelry store.

Browsing a few things he picked up a a pretty necklace, holding it up to you. ‘ hey uhm.. do you like this? I think it’s pretty.. it’d suit you’ you looked down at it with a smile, letting him place it against your neck. ‘ oh it’s nice.. but I couldn’t— you already bought me so much stuff today.’

He smiled widely, ‘ oh no it’s okay I promise, I wanted to spoil you today.. let me buy it please?’ He pleaded you, big blue eyes looking into yours. And it got you every time.. you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

‘ okay okay fine.. but this is my very last present okay?’ You yielded, watching his face brighten with a grin. He walked over to the counter and you sighed as he paid for the necklace, but it warmed your heart to know he wanted to treat you so nicely.

‘ Here sweetheart let me put it on you..’ he stood behind you, both of you facing the in-store mirror. And he gently draped it around your neck, sealing the clasp. The necklace was gorgeous against your skin, enhancing your features. You smiled and lightly touched it, ‘ thank you Stevie.. I love it’ leaning over to kiss his cheek.

After all of that walking, ultimately you decided you wanted pizza. Sitting across from Stephen sharing a half n half pizza, your side was plain pepperoni and his side had pepperoni and pineapple. Which was okay but not necessarily your cup of tea. Smiling at him while he ate his pizza, glasses sliding down his nose.

‘ Stephen, I really really appreciate this.. you taking me out today, I had a lot of fun.’ Grinning at him, pure adoration in your eyes. Shifting on your stool, leaning forward to watch his face.

Stephen beamed back at you, ‘ I wanted to make you feel special today that’s all… I’ve really enjoyed the past six months. I knew you didn’t have anything planned so...’

His hand reached across the table to gingerly interlace with yours. Finger rubbing the back of your hand. ‘ Can you spend the night again please? We’ll get a movie and some takeout, I don’t want the day to end..’ you pleaded, everything had been perfect.

‘ Of course sweetness..’ he felt his cheeks warm up, ‘ Anything for you’ ,, he kissed the back of your hand softly, he was falling for you. And falling for you hard.. before he knew it, Stephen was already whipped.

Taglist: @speaknow-sw @ysrjune @moonlightkb @hearts4sammonroe @amiratheangel @madsluvsdilfs @alealuvshayden @loliskywalker @haydenchristensenisbae @blckberrie

Thank you guys for reading ! This felt sort of rushed? But you guys know I have a bad habit of turning drabbles into oneshots, so I kind of crammed it in there.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist ! I love you and thanks for reading, comment !

#minniethings #Minnie writes ! 📑#Stephen glass #Stephen glass x reader #Stephen glass Drabble #Stephen glass fluff #Stephen glass x reader fluff #Stephen glass x reader Drabble #stephen glass fanfiction #Shattered glass #Hayden Christensen

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inkspiredwriting · 11 months ago

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A Day with Uncle Klaus

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: I hope you forgive me that this little story is more about Maddie and her uncle Klaus. Can you imagine how sweet Klaus would be to his little niece?

Warnings: None

Maddie Hargreeves, the six-year-old daughter of Five and Y/N, was a bundle of energy. She had inherited her father's curiosity and her mother's kindness, but she also had a unique gift of her own: the ability to make things float. Today, she was set to spend the day with her favorite uncle, Klaus, known for his mischievous charm and penchant for chaos.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Y/N asked, her eyes filled with a mix of amusement and concern.

Klaus waved a dismissive hand. "Please, I've dealt with spirits, apocalypses, and your husband. How much trouble can one little girl with telekinesis be?"

Y/N chuckled, giving Maddie a kiss on the forehead. "Have fun, sweetie. And listen to Uncle Klaus, okay?"

Maddie nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Okay, Mommy!"

As they set off, Klaus and Maddie walked hand in hand, ready for their adventure.

Their first stop was the local market. Klaus thought it would be fun to show Maddie around the bustling stalls, filled with vibrant colors and delicious smells. As they wandered through the market, Maddie's eyes grew wide with wonder.

"Can I make things float, Uncle Klaus?" she asked, her small hand tugging at his sleeve.

Klaus grinned. "Of course, just be careful not to cause too much of a scene."

Maddie nodded, concentrating hard on a bunch of apples at a nearby stall. Slowly, they began to rise into the air, floating gently above the vendor's head.

The vendor looked up, eyes wide. "What in the world?"

Klaus quickly stepped in, snatching the apples from the air and placing them back on the stall. "Sorry about that! Just a little magic trick."

The vendor, still bewildered, shook his head but eventually laughed it off. Klaus winked at Maddie, who giggled.

Next, they headed to a nearby park, where Klaus had brought along a kite. As they found a clear spot, Klaus handed the kite to Maddie. "Want to see if you can make this fly without any wind?"

Maddie nodded eagerly, gripping the kite string tightly. She focused, and the kite began to lift off the ground, soaring high into the sky.

"Look, Uncle Klaus! It's flying!" Maddie exclaimed, jumping up and down with excitement.

Klaus laughed, clapping his hands. "That's amazing, Maddie! You're a natural."

They spent the next hour making various objects float around the park, much to the amazement of passersby. A couple of ducks quacked in confusion as they found themselves hovering a few inches above the pond, and a group of kids cheered when their soccer ball started floating in mid-air.

As the afternoon wore on, Klaus decided it was time for a treat. They went to an ice cream parlor, where Maddie insisted on trying the most colorful flavor available. They sat outside, enjoying their ice cream and watching the world go by.

"Uncle Klaus, do you think Daddy can make things float too?" Maddie asked between licks of her cone.

Klaus chuckled. "No, your daddy has other cool powers. But you're special, Maddie. You've got a gift."

Maddie beamed, her face covered in ice cream. "I like my gift. It's fun."

Their final stop was a little craft store where Klaus had promised Maddie she could pick out something special. Maddie chose a set of colorful beads and strings to make bracelets. As they paid and left the store, Maddie couldn't resist making the beads float in a sparkling, swirling dance above their heads.

People around them gasped and pointed, but Maddie just giggled, enjoying the spectacle she was creating.

"You're causing quite a stir, Maddie," Klaus said, grinning. "Let's get home before we end up on the news."

When they finally returned home, Y/N and Five were waiting, curious to hear about their day.

"Did you have fun?" Y/N asked, pulling Maddie into a hug.

Maddie nodded vigorously. "It was the best day ever! We made apples float, flew a kite without wind, and even made ducks hover!"

Five raised an eyebrow at Klaus. "Ducks?"

Klaus shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hey, it was all in good fun."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Thank you, Klaus. It sounds like you both had a wonderful day."

Maddie yawned, her energy finally waning. "Can we do it again, Uncle Klaus?"

Klaus smiled, giving her a gentle hug and a kiss on the forehead. "Anytime, kiddo. Anytime."

As Maddie was tucked into bed, her eyes already closing, Five and Y/N looked at each other and smiled.

"She had a great day," Y/N said softly.

Five nodded, wrapping an arm around her. "Yeah, she did. Thanks to Uncle Klaus."

In the living room, Klaus settled onto the couch with a contented sigh. He might have been the family wild card, but today, he felt like a hero in his niece's eyes. And that was more than enough.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot #klaus hargreeves

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translatingpostsintoitalian · 1 month ago

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What free or paid apps would you recommend to learning Italian?

Disclaimer: the following are just general app recommendations, they're not specific to Italian because I have never had to learn Italian (bc I'm native) ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ So take them with a grain of salt

First and foremost. My most beloved, the light of my life, the apple of my eye, the diamond in the rough, the one and only, the I've run out of flattering phrases... WordReference. No ads, completely free, extremely high quality content, lists all meanings of a word with at least one example for each meaning, also has phrases, AND has a forum.

I really liked using the free version of Clozemaster a couple years back (IM PRAYING that it stood the same and that they didn't add 728237 AI features. PRAYING). I *think* it was ad-free. I fell in love with the learning method and the UI stripped down to its bare essentials. It had no extra stuff that distracts you, no gems, no streaks that I recall, nothing of the sort. Just vocabulary, vocabulary, vocabulary. I think it's worth it to pay for the VIP version, but *only* when it's 90% (IIRC) discounted which happens for sure on Black Friday, and maybe some other times of the year; otherwise I find it expensive. Or you could just get the cracked APK for free hehehe

The biggest disadvantage for me was that in the free version you couldn't skip to a certain knowledge level, you could only start from the basics. For me it ended up being tiresome because my level was already intermediate and I really didn't want to "learn" basic words again. But if you're a beginner then it sounds good to me.

As I said, it's only for vocabulary, not for grammar or pronunciation. Italian grammar is very complex and I'm not sure if there exists an app that tackles grammar out there. Maybe one of the people reading this can help me on this one!

Polygloss is a nifty little app that I would recommend as halfway between beginner and intermediate. Basically you match with a totally random person, and you take turns doing a little game. The game is: you pick a stylized picture, describe it (with as little or as many words as you want, though you're encouraged to use many). Then the opponent sees 4 pictures and your description, and must guess which picture you were talking about. That's it. That's the whole app. But it's very fun and the comment/correct function is very fun to use. You can correct a sentence the opponent has said, and/or you can give them a little award for being creative, funny, and stuff.

Beelinguapp is one step higher in that it presents you with full texts. The main thing about Beelinguapp is all the texts are bilingual, so in two languages. So you're being shown the same text in Italian and English (I don't know if there are other options for the "home" language other than English), and also the texts are read aloud and the sentences light up as the speaker reads them (so you're practicing listening as well as reading!!!). You can stop the speaker at any time and, in the paid (or *cough cough* cracked) version, quickly highlight and annotate a new word that you don't know, before resuming. I find it terrific.

Tandem is a great app in general, it's basically a chatting app but tailored to match people who are learning each other's native language. I didn't like the pressure it gave me though, and I wouldn't recommend it to girls and femmes because some people treat it as a dating app... Ugh. But it's still fun and worth trying in my opinion.

Sorry for getting so verbose lol

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serafilms · 1 year ago

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OH, WE MUST STOP MEETING LIKE THIS

patrick zweig x reader

summary: in which patrick zweig is the bolter (the bolter by taylor swift). wc: 3k

kind of an alternate timeline spinoff of the golden quartet

(rather than an au, it's more like an alternate patrick x reader centric timeline, and an exploration of their dynamic and how it intertwines with the bolter, because i listened to it again after watching challengers, and thought to myself, "wow, this song is so patrick coded.”)

You like Patrick Zweig because he makes you feel like he’s yours.

The sudden hand that claps onto your shoulder almost sends your soul into orbit as you jump in your seat, fork dropping to your tray. It is very soon forgotten.

“Patrick, oh my god!” Your arms are thrown around him, chair pushed to the side, and Patrick stumbles a little on the impact.

When you part, he’s grinning at you and you turn your head back to the table, where Art is munching on an apple with the corners of his mouth twitching up.

“Did you know he was here?” You ask him.

Art gives a shrug as he swallows. “He said he wanted to surprise you.”

You tug at Patrick’s arm to sit as you settle back into your chair.

He gives you an exaggeratedly sloppy kiss on your cheek and you cringe in disgust, butterflies in your stomach all the while. “Had to surprise my favourite girl.”

“Thought Art was your favourite girl,” you quip. The blond kicks your shoe in retaliation.

“You can both be,” Patrick announces as he grabs Art’s apple and takes a bite. “So,” he says through a mouthful, “It’s Friday. What are we doing tonight?”

“Well,” you say, “I have an essay due Sunday, so I’ll be doing that.”

Patrick gives you a look. “Boo, you whore.”

“Alright, pack it up, Regina George.” The words are accompanied by an affectionate roll of your eyes.

“A guy in my calculus class is throwing a party,” Art speaks up. He snatches his apple back out of Patrick’s hands.

You let out a humming noise. “You guys can come hang afterwards. I’ll probably still be awake by then.”

Patrick studies you for a moment, contemplatively, as if you are somehow a factor in making his decision. You wonder if perhaps he wanted you to ask him to stay with you instead. But he turns back to Art and nods his agreement as an easy smirk falls onto his face.

“Sounds like a plan.”

There’s a little more idle chitchat and three-way bickering while Patrick swipes half your meal from under your nose and indulges in it as though he was the one who paid for it. You let him, partially because you’re not hungry anymore and partially because you’re not sure what he’s been eating when he’s on tour, so any nutrients you can get inside his stomach is a win.

Art lists off some of the people going to the party, and you chime in with unsolicited opinions, pieces of gossip, etc., on each of them, until eventually, your tray is empty and it’s time for you to go to class.

“I’ll catch you guys later. Don’t get too shitfaced tonight.” You try to ignore the way Patrick grazes his hand on your hip as you stand.

“No promises,” he snickers. He and Art share a look over the table.

It’s three in the morning when Patrick knocks on your door. He is decidedly shitfaced, but still not as bashed up as you thought he’d be. His hair is only slightly tousled, he doesn’t look like he’s about to fall over, and his clothes don’t even look like they’ve been haphazardly taken off and thrown back on.

Still, you gently tug him inside, hands reaching up to brush down his curls neatly.

“Come here,” you murmur. You don’t question why he came to your room instead of going back to Art’s. Nor do you question why he seems to have gone mute.

You begin helping him take his jacket off, then as he sits on your bed, his shoes. Despite being fully capable of doing so himself, he lets you take care of him. He doesn’t even stop to smirk or make a comment about the compromising position of you kneeling in front of him. Instead, he stares. Or it looks like staring. In Patrick terms, you decide that the more accurate verb is ‘gazes.’

After you’ve forced a glass of water down his throat and put his things in a pile to the side, Patrick has half tucked himself under your covers and is gazing at you – expectant, pensive.

The bed dips as you lay beside him, turning onto your side to face him. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Patrick’s hand darts out to cup your face. His eyes are half lidded, looking straight into yours. It’s a serious expression, one you so rarely see on his features. He almost looks like a different person.

His fingertips brush the side of your neck making their way down to your shoulder, your bicep then your ribcage, right near the curve of your waist. You hear his breathing deepen as your own does the same.

“I really like you, you know.”

Your breath hitches. You feel as though your lungs, heart and diaphragm have all be frozen in time.

The words shouldn’t warrant such a reaction. They shouldn’t have such a palpable effect on you, but they do. You know Patrick likes you a lot. It’s a given with the way he acts around you, seeks you out and calls you so frequently. But it’s precisely because you know that and because you know him, that you know what he really means in this moment.

Your voice comes out in a hoarse kind of whisper. “I really like you too.”

A hint of his usual smirk crosses his face, and then the next thing you know, you’re thrown in a void, and the only things you’re aware of are the warmth of his hand on your side and the press of his lips on your own.

You love Patrick Zweig because he will always come back to you.

“Hey.” There’s a smirk on Patrick’s face as you step out of the bathroom. His eyes dart up and down your figure, from the shirt you clearly stole out of his bag while he was training with Art and Tashi to the exposed skin of your legs.

“Hey,” you reply, smiling as you move to situate yourself between his legs. His arms wrap around you as you settle into him. Chest to chest, heart to heart. You can feel the steady thump in his chest through your shirt. You take the time to drink in the sight of him. Every visit feels shorter than the last, and you sometimes worry his face will fade from your memory like a thawing lake in spring. “How was practice?”

Patrick rolls his eyes. “Tashi keeps riding my ass about my focus during matches.”

“Come on, she just wants to help you.”

Patrick’s eyebrows raise as he gives you a squeeze. “I didn’t come visit so I could be coached.”

You smile at that. “Oh yeah? What’d you come back for then?”

A grin stretches over his face as he flips you both over, and you squeak a little on impact. “Why don’t I show you?”

Warmth blossoms in your chest as he starts kissing up your neck. “We watch your matches sometimes, you know. When I miss you. Art always sighs when you do your weird little serve. Tashi commentates most of it, though.”

You feel the stretch of his lips as he smiles slightly into your collarbone.

“She has some good points,” you say, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he bites down on your skin. “Maybe you should listen to her.”

He sighs, mumbling, “I don’t want to talk about tennis right now.”

“I know. I’m just saying – raw talent won’t always be enough.”

“I’ll deal with that when I start actually losing,” he replies in between kisses. He’s at your jaw now, lips still pressed to your skin with every word.

You hum at the vibrations on your skin, but a frown pulls at your lips. You aren’t Tashi or Art. It isn’t like you care all that much about tennis anymore, but the fact that Patrick seems to care even less worries you. His future is hanging by a thread, and it worries you most of all because you’re not even really sure if you fit in his future. You’re not sure if you’ll be there to sew it back up or standing in the distance watching it fray.

“You always do that,” you blurt.

He pulls away, looking at your eyes with a brow furrowed. “Do what?”

“Run away from your problems.”

“I don’t run away from my problems,” he says, pulling back slightly. You both know he’s lying.

“I’m sorry, I’m just worried.” You bite your lip. “You haven’t had a decent conversation with your parents in two years, and I feel like you’re not thinking about your future.”

Patrick shifts away from you, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you instead. His jaw has set as he looks at you. There’s a cold expression on his face and you want nothing more than to rewind the last 30 seconds and go back to how it was before. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek nervously.

“I don’t need you to worry about my future,” he says, voice low and steady.

Your own voice has a subtle shake in it, one that’s filled with regret. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Patrick looks at you for a moment longer, then swings his feet off the bed and heads straight for his things.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving,” he says quietly. He shoves his hoodie into the bag and zips it up.

Your heart clenches. “Wait, Patrick, please. I don’t want us to leave it like this.”

“I have to go. I’ll miss the last bus if I don’t.”

“You can catch it tomorrow! Your competition isn’t for another two days!” The desperation in your voice is audible. “Please. Please don’t leave.”

Patrick’s figure is still, like a photograph frozen in time. His bag rests on his shoulder. He’s two steps away from the door.

“Please stay.”

When he turns and looks at you, you can see the way his expression crumbles.

“Okay,” he mumbles.

You manage a few steps towards him, slow and hesitant. The bag slides off of his shoulder and he engulfs you into his arms. There’s a kiss pressed to your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into him.

His hair brushes against your cheek as he shakes his head. “No. No, I’m sorry.”

He holds you tight in his arms as you fall asleep. The next morning, you awake to an empty bed, and a sticky note on your desk that you won’t notice for another few days.

I’m sorry.

You don’t like Patrick Zweig because he makes you cave every time.

A year fresh out of college, and your career as a journalist is flourishing. Your boss flounces up to you at your desk.

“You used to play a bit of tennis, right?”

You blink. “Uh, yeah.” You were ranked, like, 7th in the world for junior tennis before your injury, but sure, that about sums it up too.

“I need you to write a piece on the competition happening soon. It won’t be too spotlighted, since we’re not really known for our sports new, but you’ll have full control over it, since you’re the only one who knows anything about tennis.”

“Okay, no problem.”

“Great! Here’s a list of the players.”

Your eyes skim over the list half-heartedly. There were occasionally names you recognised, including – ah, there was Art. You flipped through until the end, and your gaze locked in on the last name on the page. Your heart crept into your throat.

Patrick Zweig.

“Did you know he was here too?” You struggle your way up your stairs to the apartment, grocery bags in each hand and your phone balanced between your ear and shoulder.

Art’s voice sounds muffled from the other line, probably because your ear is more on the screen than the speaker, but even so, the awkward lilt in his voice is clear as day. “Yeah, uh, he texted me.”

You sigh. “You don’t have to pretend like you’re not still friends with him for my sake.”

He’s quiet for a moment. "I know. I just didn’t know how you’d feel about him being back in town."

“That’s what Tashi said too.”

“So how are you feeling about it?”

"Well," you huff as you reach near top of the stairs, "it’s not like I didn’t know he’d be at the tournament." Your eyes close for a moment, and the image of his name in font size 11 Arial appears in your mind’s eye. "I just didn’t want to think about it. I mean, it’s been ages since I’ve even spoken to him. It’s—"

"Complicated," Art finishes for you.

"Yeah." You fumble for your keys in your pocket, trying to manoeuvre the bags without dropping anything. "I’ll be fine, though. "

Art hums. You get the sense he’s thinking about something. Finally, he says, "For what it’s worth, he never wanted to hurt you, you know.”

You manage a small smile, even though he can’t see it. "I know. I’ll call you later, okay? I gotta put these groceries away."

"Sure. Take care, alright?"

"Yeah, you too." It’s a big struggle trying to get the keys out of your pocket. You barely manage to grab your phone in your other hand.

"Need some help with those?"

The sound of Patrick’s voice startles you, and you nearly drop the bags. He’s leaning against the wall next to your door with a smirk playing on his lips. Your first instinct is to hug him, then something switches and you want to punch him. With the bags in your hands, you can do neither, so you opt for staring at him as though you’ve just seen a ghost.

He still looks the same as you last saw him (not that you think about him often enough to picture that image, of course), except with an extra hint of adult despair. But still, the curls are the same, he’s still wearing shorts, he’s still clean-shaven, and his smirk is still stupid as ever. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was a figure of your imagination.

You gape at him for a moment before finding your voice. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

He straightens up, taking a few steps toward you. "Thought I’d surprise you."

"Well, mission accomplished," you mutter, pushing your key in the door and twisting it. Patrick follows you in, reaching to grasp at the bags in your hands. You don’t say anything as he carries them over to your counter, his eyes darting around to take in the sight of your apartment.

“Nice place. I like what you’ve done with the bookshelf,” he muses as he lifts the groceries onto the tabletop, then leans against it.

The way he moves is so familiar that it sends a jolt of déjà-vu through your stomach. A battle rages on in your mind as you struggle to figure out how to feel. On paper, you’re not necessarily on bad terms. It isn’t like you could say you had a bad breakup, since you aren’t even really sure you were dating in the first place, so you never really had any nights of crying over him, eating ice cream, and asking your friends to stop you from texting him. The two of you just stopped talking.

“Patrick. Why are you here?” Your voice cuts like a knife through the air. This is starting to feel like some sick joke from the universe. You wonder if Art knew Patrick was going to ambush you. Maybe he gave him your address.

He looks at you, his easy smile dropping for a moment. “I wanted to see you.”

You stay quiet. His expression is uncomfortably serious, and you can see him waiting for a response. But the truth is you don’t know what to say. You opt instead for moving towards the groceries beside him and putting them away. Patrick just watches you.

"So," he says, breaking the silence, "how’ve you been?"

"Busy," you reply, picking up a carton of milk to put in the refrigerator. "Work’s been hectic."

You see him nod from the corner of your eye. "I’ve heard. Your articles are really good."

You glance at him, surprised. "You read them?"

"Of course." His expression softens. "I always keep up with what you’re doing."

A lump forms in your throat, and you focus on moving around the jars in your fridge door aimlessly to avoid looking at him. "Thanks."

It’s silent once more as you finish putting everything away, though you can feel Patrick’s eyes in the back of your head the whole time.

His eyes meet yours when you finally turn back to face him, and for a moment, he looks vulnerable. He steps closer, reaching out to take your hand. "I missed you."

Your heart clenches. It becomes easier to decide then. You don’t like Patrick Zweig. Can’t stand him, really. You hate him. You hate that just his hand in yours and three little words can make your resolve crumble like a statue smashed to rubble.

Against the better judgement of every cell in your brain, you say, “I missed you too.”

It’s nothing to do with you. You know that. As he kisses you, as he slips his hands under your shirt, as he lies in bed with you, traces patterns on your skin and clings to you like a lifeline, you know. Patrick is yours, and you are his. But he’s always making promises he can’t keep, starting things he cannot finish, running away from everything to no end.

Perhaps one day, things will be different. But for now, you stare at the empty space in your bed, the only trace of his presence being the lingering scent of his cologne. You sigh, draw open the curtains and allow the morning sun to seep into your room.

You hate Patrick Zweig because he will never stay.

#patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #challengers #challengers x reader #challengers imagine #challengers imagines #josh o'connor #art donaldson #tashi duncan #written works !#art donaldson x reader

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