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jaylver · 1 year ago

Text

SLUT! — P.JS

synopsis: experiencing love in your last year of high school was totally unexpected, especially when it’s the fact that you had fallen for the boy everyone wants. what you weren’t prepared for was the troubles that came with it. however, you were willing to pay the price just for the sake of love.

pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader

genre: acquaintances to lovers, high school au, romance, angst, coming of age (?)

warning(s): profanities, (slight) slut shaming, underage drinking and partying

wc: 6.7k

a/n: last fic of 2023! thank you for all the support �� a little piece dedicated to everyone and also those who loves this song equally as much as me! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

Finding love was the last thing you had on your list right now.

It was the final year of high school. Everyone was freaking out over the fact that they were growing older and their time in high school was over. The Californian air couldn't be any more duller after that. Senior prom and graduation preparations were already starting even though it was just the start of the year. What was stopping them anyway?

Being a teenager was art, but what they didn't tell you about growing up was the process of falling in love.

It was torture. Witnessing people in love all around you while you struggled with advancing past the talking stage. No, it wasn't fair. However, having cupid strike its bow at you unexpectedly one day was the worst of crimes.

You know the embarrassing feeling when you see your classmates outside of school? Right. That was how you felt the moment Park Jong Seong walked into your mother's clinic, your eyes widening behind the counter. Must you be responsible for the counter at this very hour?

“Hey—Y/N?”

Jay was a classmate. You didn't really know him and neither did he know much about you. It was just neutral, where you coexist in the same space until the bell rings and the day ends. You get the gist.

That doesn't exclude the point where Jay was widely known, though. He wasn't like his popular jock friends or an athlete whatsoever. Instead, he was a studious guy who kept his reputation clean. Basically, he was your typical golden boy. You knew he wasn't completely innocent to an extent, but at least he was good at hiding it.

There is no denying that everyone wants him. He was a nice guy paired with strong, distinct features. It was no secret he was also known for his looks and caring manners.

“Jay? What are you doing here?”

He was wrapped in a thick hoodie, hands hidden in his pants pocket. “Caught a cold. I thought I should drop by to see a doctor and get some medicine,”

“Oh no,” you tried your best at giving a concerned expression, though you were busy skimming through files on the laptop. “Do you have a record here?”

“I do. Not my first time,”

You tried for his full legal name instead of ‘Jay Park’ and thankfully, his record showed up. “Found it,” you glanced up just to find him staring back at you. This was probably the first time you were this close to him, enough to be able to distinguish the moles on his face.

“I'll call you in a bit,”

You did what you always do every time, inform your mother and call the patients in. But Jay wasn't just another patient to you. When you called his name, you watched as he got closer, casting you a sweet smile right before he disappeared behind the door, leaving you to your seat at the counter, overthinking the littlest details that you knew you'd have to spill to your best friend after.

Jay waited patiently by the counter once it was time to pay. His gaze followed your every move as you got his prescribed medicine and stuffed them carefully into a bag.

“Here you go,” you passed the bag over, then accepted the cash he had been holding for a while. “Thanks,” you muttered, taking the chance at avoiding eye contact when you slipped the cash into the register.

“Thank you too,” Jay said, immediately gaining your attention. He was still managing a smile even though you could tell he was shivering slightly.

“No problem. Rest well,” you took a piece of candy from your own bowl of personal sweets stash. “Here,”

“Candy?”

You nodded, humming softly.

“Thanks,” his voice was quieter, sounding as if he was in disbelief. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes twinkled, a hint of fascination lingered. “I'll see you around, Y/N.”

“See you.”

That night, you laid awake replaying the encounter you had with Jay. It was the first time you've ever talked to him, and it was barely anything, but you somehow understood why people liked him by then. Not like you didn't like him initially, you meant, romantically.

It was definitely an odd place to meet and talk to him. Out of all the possible places, it just had to be your mother’s clinic that none of your peers came to once, that was until him. But somehow, it was the right timing despite the location. It was the wrong place at the right time.

Who knew his cold and your candy would soon start something neither of you expected.

“Do you wish you made out with him or something?”

Telling Yunjin about it was probably the best and worst idea. Sure, she could be a great moral support, except she lacked filters when needed.

“What the fuck—no!” You glanced around, hoping none of the passing students heard your stupid discussions. “He's hot but not like that, at all,”

“So you admit he's hot!”

You rolled your eyes, chucking the bag of Doritos back to her. “I never said he wasn't,”

“You intended it, said you didn't get the ‘hype’ around him,”

“Until now!” You threw your hands up in surrender, only getting a cackle from Yunjin as a response. “Whatever. It's a one time thing. He's out of my league. It's a whole ‘You Belong with Me’ music video type of situation excluding me being friends with him,”

“You're yapping at this point,”

“Thanks, I know,”

“It's not that serious, Y/N. You fighting your life trying to defend yourself only makes it seem like you're in denial,” why must she always be on point?

“Whatever, whatever,” you waved her off, stubbornly ignoring what she said. “I'm at the back of the line anyway, I should be worrying about graduation and college,”

“Oh right!” Yunjin physically jumped, her backpack shook. “I need your opinion on something.”

That whole Jay discourse had swarmed your head that was currently leaning against the window. You purposely picked a seat by the window at the back of the class, hoping for some space to think since it was a class you didn't have with Yunjin.

“A dollar for your thoughts?”

To your right stood Jay, shouldering his backpack and offering a warm smile. You knew you shared this class with him, but to have him walk up to you at that very moment was something beyond unexpected.

“Hey,” you greeted rather stiffly, not knowing what to do now that you were put under the spot. “W–what are you doing standing there?” Facepalm.

“Oh—do you mind if I sit beside you?” He pointed at the empty seat next to you, and you shook your head. You usually sat with random classmates anyway, having no close friends in this class was a struggle.

Jay's face broke into a smile of relief, plotting his bag down before taking a seat. “Thanks, I don't really have anyone I know here,”

“You don't?” That's weird. You always noticed how people naturally swarmed around Jay's table, either greeting him or chatting with him.

“Not really. None of them are really my friends,”

But you were?

“You're a friend to me, though,” he added, as if reading your mind at that instant.

You were taken aback, but you hid it well, masking it with nonchalance. “Really?”

He nodded, a sincere smile that told you he meant it. You let yourself loose this time, reciprocating his smile. “I'm honoured,”

“I'm even more honoured.”

Throughout the class, you didn't miss the occasional glances from him and neither did you stop yourself from looking at him. He was much more breathtaking up close. Who were you to deny that?

By the end of the class, the bell rang and everyone started to pack up, some already rushing out in a hurry. You, on the other hand, was too caught up in your headspace to notice Jay was already done tidying up beside you and was waiting for his queue.

“Uh—Y/N?” he tapped you on your shoulder, stealing your attention at once. You stared at him expectantly, blinking with curiosity behind your eyes.

“Yeah?” You dragged the word out slightly, packing your last book into your bag.

“Would you like to go to a party this weekend?”

A party? That'd be your first.

“Where's that? Can I bring my friend too?”

“Yes and it's at Jake's house,” he winced, forgetting you're not one of those frequent party goers. “I'll text you the details—wait, I don't even have your number,” he laughed awkwardly, which only made you smile.

“Real smooth, Jay,” you signalled for his phone, and he grabbed it out of his jeans pocket without saying a word, eyes following your move as you typed in your number.

When you handed his phone back, he didn’t hesitate to press the call button. Obviously, you heard your ringtone coming from your backpack. You glanced at Jay, giving him a face that was saying ‘really?’, quite incredulous that he’d doubted you.

“Just wanted to be sure,” he smiled, scratching the back of his neck out of awkwardness. “I’ll make sure to text you,” he held his phone up, waving it a little and slowly getting up from his seat, to which you followed suit. At that moment, the classroom was already almost empty, so it was just a few lingering students with you and Jay, but it all felt like you were in a completely different universe altogether.

“Cool,”

“Cool,” Jay echoed after you, and you resisted yourself from laughing. Apparently he noticed your tight smile and smiled along with you. Wordlessly, you two communicated through each of your smiles even as you walked side by side out the door.

“Which way are you going?” he was quick to ask, eyes shining with expectations.

“I’m going that way,” you pointed to the right, down the busy corridor.

“Oh,” Jay visibly faltered, the expectations he held behind his gaze were crushed. “I’m heading that way,” he pointed to the left, the opposite direction of where you’re going.

“I guess that’s it for today,” you patted his shoulder, unbeknownst to how Jay had froze under your touch for a second. “Until our next class together, then,”

“See you,” he waved, gradually backing away.

You couldn’t help but grin. “Bye!”

You watched as he walked away, his back now fully facing you. It took you another beat before your feet were willing you away to where you were meant to go. But what you failed to realise as you concentrated on your steps was Jay turning his head back to catch a glimpse of you, his head only filled with the thoughts of you.

He’s so screwed.

Staying at the library was the last resort for you once you got to know Yunjin had an impromptu extra hour class after school. She promised she'd take you to the pool, considering the weather was only getting hotter day by day. But you suppose it'd have to wait for now.

What was worse, the heatwave or high school? Trick question.

The library was mostly empty by this hour, only a couple of students remained to either study or chill around just like you. It was one of those times where you wondered why you didn't explore more. As you wandered along the towering shelves filled with old books, you caught sight of an interesting looking one.

Instinctively, you pulled the book out of the shelf without thinking twice. But what caught your eyes wasn't the cover of the book or the book itself in general. Instead, it was the pair of eyes staring back at you through the small gap from where the book originally sat.

The most surprising bit of all was you knew and recognised who those eyes belonged to. Jay.

Your eyes widened, so did he once he saw your reaction. For some inexplicable reason, you stood up straight, unknowingly fixing your hair out of a nervous habit.

You were nervous? It's just Jay. No, wait, that's probably why. It's Jay. How were you not going to feel nervous around him?

Quick, think! Were you going to find him in the next aisle or run away. Maybe not the latter. You turned on your heel and walked forward, deciding to find Jay and greet him out of courtesy.

You were just about to turn the corner when you stumbled into the man you were looking for, perfect. Actually, not perfect. The moment you crashed into him, you stumbled into his chest and his hands flew up to catch you, the book originally in his possession dropped to the ground with a firm thud.

There you were, literally in his arms and looking frenzied. His wide eyes matched yours. It took a few beats and a moment for your mind to formulate what's happening for you to finally push yourself from him, absolutely flustered from embarrassment.

“Hey,” you dusted your front in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks.

“Hi,” he replied rather breathlessly, mirroring your rosy cheeks.

The book that fell to the ground suddenly became unimportant to Jay, but to you, it was a mark that was burning into the precious floorings. You moved fast and picked up the book, yet you weren't quick to hand it back, instead you took a look at it.

“Pride and Prejudice?” You noted from the old cover, then glanced at him, a glint of interest sparked. “Didn't know you're like that,” you extended the book out to him.

He took the book back into his possession, smiling rather sweetly. “Literature is the death of me,”

“Isn't it a selective subject?”

“It is. I was an idiot for thinking I could hold on,” he rolled his eyes, making you giggle softly.

“I'm sure you will. You're—like—Einstein smart,”

“Are you trying to stroke my ego right now?” He crossed his arms, leaning onto the bookshelf ever so casually.

“No, I'm just pointing it out. You literally rank in the top 5 every year! It's annoying,”

“Is it so?”

“Very much,”

“Should I be flattered? I'm flattered,” he bowed dramatically, unable to hide his smug smile. It was your turn to roll your eyes, shaking your head at him. He only let out a laugh at your reaction. “What are you doing here at this time anyway?”

“Oh—Yunjin, my friend, had a random impromptu class so she had to stay back. I was waiting for her since she’s bringing me to go swim, but now I don’t know if that’s happening,”

“You could always stop by my place for a swim,”

You blinked, head tilting to one side. “What?”

Jay seemed to have become embarrassed judging from the reddening tips of his ears that you were (thankfully) oblivious to. “I have a pool, and my parents are out of town for maybe a few months or so for work, so it’s practically unused,”

“What about your friends? Don’t they go over to swim?”

“They do, but they’re looking to take more advantage of it by wanting to throw a party soon since my parents are away,” he grumbled in the last part.

“Well, are you?”

“I guess? I don’t mind it,” he hummed, bright eyes flickering to you. “Will you come if I do?”

“If I’m invited,”

“Obviously you are,” Jay said matter-of-factly, eyebrows raised. “So what do you say?”

“Sure,”

“Great. I’ll hold you to it,” he snapped his fingers, and was basically beaming now. It only made you form more visible heart eyes. “But for now, I’ll see you at Jake’s party,”

“Deal.”

That day, you left the library with a lovesick smile instead of a book. You didn’t even get annoyed after knowing it was too late for a trip to the pool, and obviously Yunjin caught onto that. On the walk home, you thought about him and the party. Anxiety and anticipation were both building up, until he came up in mind again and everything disappeared.

You got lovestruck and it went straight to your head. It was almost the first time you’ve actually felt the way you’re feeling now, nobody had once made you fully experience every emotion of having a crush in your years in high school. No one was even capable of it, that was until Jay appeared into your life.

Going to bed that same night, you thought of him again. At that point, you wondered if he would materialise in your bedroom from the amount of times you had him in your head. Maybe he’d be accidentally manifested into life.

Tossing and turning, you kicked your feet at the imaginations you had of him. Upon realising your own behaviour, you covered your face with a pillow and screamed into it. Were you crazy? Oh my God, you were!

Then it hit you.

You’re admitting this now. You like Park Jong Seong.

“I can’t believe we’re here,”

Yunjin was currently having the best of her life even though nothing has happened yet and you both had just arrived at Jake’s house.

The walk in was already shocking. On the lawn of Jake’s house were knocked out drunks, then by the door were people making out and doing weird things you didn’t want to think of again. You were surprised that everything happening before you was something you’ve seen in movies and you were actually experiencing that now.

“Is this even … legal?” you glanced around, cringing at the tacky set ups and badly picked music in the background.

“No. But you’ve drunk before, so who are you to say?”

“Touche,”

Wandering further into the house, you realised there were many people here, but you weren't surprised at all. Jake was a well known footballer anyway, how could he not be popular in the first place?

"Y/N!"

At the sound of your name being called, you looked over your shoulder to see Jay approaching you. His eyes carried the same kind of brightness he has around you, the corner of his lips were curved up into a wide smile. Let's not forget how he has his hair styled up at that moment. Was he expecting you to not feel anything?

"Jay! Hey," you waved meekly at him until he was standing before you. You noticed his gaze on your friend who was standing beside you, a look of unfamiliarity clearly written in his expressions. "This is Yunjin, by the way,"

Yunjin and Jay both greeted each other amicably, though a little awkward but it was natural for it to be like that. Jay turned to look at you, eyebrows raised. "This would be a great chance to introduce my friends but—"

"Jay!"

"I take that back,"

You and your friend exchanged a brief look, stifling your laughter at Jay's demeanour. He was flailing his hand to get his friend to come closer, and by then, you could recognise who it was.

"Bro, why were you running around all night? Were you expecting someone—oh, hey," Jake, the host of the party and the popular footballer, had finally taken account of you and your friend's presence. "I'm Jake, nice to meet you,"

"Likewise, I'm Y/N,"

"Yunjin,"

"Y/N and Yunjin, you guys are new faces around here,"

"It's not really our scene," you nudged Yunjin a little, and she nodded in agreement. It's true, you and her equally preferred a night in with a romcom playing than this. But you'd make it an exception this time, and maybe the next time for Jay's party.

"You're always welcomed. Any friend's of Jay or friend's of Jay's friend are welcomed to our party," Jake patted Jay's back, while the latter only rolled his eyes at his friend.

"Jake! Your toilet's clogged—" another one you recognised to be a part of the friend group appeared out of the blue. It was Sunghoon. Star hockey player and basically every girl's crush, he was known for his wits, charming good looks, and crazy hockey skills, duh.

If you told yourself from months back that you'd somehow become friends with Jay and meet his friends, you'd think you're crazy.

"Hey, sorry," Sunghoon winced, but gave Jake a pointed look after. Jake scoffed in annoyance, then left with a huff and a wave of goodbye to you and Yunjin. "Sorry 'bout that, I'm Sunghoon,"

"I'm Yunjin," when did she become this bold? Whatever it was, you were willing to support her.

"I'm Y/N,"

"You're Y/N?" Sunghoon gasped quietly, glancing between you and Jay, interest forming in his head.

Jay slapped the back of Sunghoon's head, and in the midst of the latter's grumbles, he could only smile awkwardly at you. "Shut up," he hissed to Sunghoon.

"First, ouch. Second, whatever," Sunghoon bumped Jay roughly with his shoulder. "Wanna get some drinks?"

"I'm fine, I'll pass. Maybe Yunjin can go along with you?" You eyed Yunjin, and you saw her giving you those 'i owe you my life' type of eyes.

"Sure," Sunghoon smiled at Yunjin, but gave Jay a firm nudge, his gaze alone conveying the message. Apparently bro telepathy was a thing, because in a few seconds, he decided Jay was staying with you and wandered off along with your best friend.

"It's just us two now," you said, as if it wasn't already obvious.

"Yeah," Jay was equally stiff as you were. "Sounds crazy, but do you want to go up to the room? It's a little loud here,"

"I don't think it's 'a little' but totally, sure. Lead the way," you figured Jay was familiar with his way since it was quite literally his best friend's house.

He wordlessly took your hand and intertwined it with his. It was so casual and sudden that it was unexpected, knocking the breath out of you. He made sure you were walking in front of him the whole time, hand never leaving yours and only gripping tighter as he held you close to avoid the crowd.

In a world of boys, he was a gentleman.

He eventually brought you to a quiet room down the hall upstairs, into a bedroom that was decorated much simpler. You guessed it was the guest room, it would've made most sense.

"Do you normally bring girls here?"

Jay's face contorted into a mix of shock and disbelief, arms thrown into the air. "What—no!"

"Really?"

"What makes you think that?"

You shrugged, taking a seat on the bed. "I don't know? Well, everyone wants you—"

That was your crime.

"—you're popular, smart, cute, kind and—am I talking too much?" You paused, feeling the bed dip beneath you as Jay joined your side.

"I like it," he hummed, turning to look at you. "I like you,"

You blinked. One second. Two seconds.

"What?" Your eyes were widening, whereas Jay was just staring back calmly with an unwavering smile.

"I like you, Y/N," the confession rolled off his tongue like a secret he has been keeping for too long. The eyes that were searching for yours were filled with longing and hope.

Was this really happening right now?

"I like you too, Jay,"

It felt like the world had stopped and it was just you and him there. You were taking in his confession and so was he. It might've been silent but it was comfortable.

"Can I—" he leaned in, but stopping just an inch away from your lips. You could feel his breath on yours, noses making contact. That was how close he was.

"Yeah,"

Just before Jay could press his lips against yours, the door burst open and you jumped, literally. You heard a thud too, and realised Jay was on the floor.

You turned to look at the door, finding the culprit standing there awkwardly. It was Jake, and he, too, was self aware that he had crashed an important private moment.

"Uh—I just wanted to find Jay…"

"Jake, if you don't close that door right now, I swear—"

Jay didn't even need to finish his sentence when Jake slammed the door shut, yelling out 'sorry's and saying he'd be waiting for Jay down the hall. Talk about awkward encounters.

You locked eyes with Jay, who looked thoroughly embarrassed but also humoured. It didn't take long before you burst out laughing and he joined along. Soon, he returned to his original spot next to you too.

"That was … bad,"

"It was," you were fidgeting with your hands, suddenly nervous. "I guess the timing wasn't right,"

"It really wasn't,"

Silence fell between the two of you, and there was something in your mind that was bugging you. "Does this mean we're …?" You didn't need to finish what you were saying for Jay to get the meaning.

"I mean, do you want to try it out first? We don't need to rush into anything, don't even need to be official. I just wanted you to know how I feel,"

"I can do slow," you nodded, catching a brief glimpse of Jay.

"I'll always be waiting for you," Jay took your hand in his, and that was when you finally had the courage to meet his eyes again. "Whenever you're ready."

People say dating the popular guy was a bad idea, but for once, you were willing to let loose and give your heart a go.

Who knew the start of your newfound romance would soon blossom into a whirlwind of tears, love, and scandalous teen romance.

"So you're dating him now?"

Having Yunjin scream into your ear in the morning during the first period was not surprising. Maybe telling her everything over the phone and leaving her hanging wasn't the best idea. It wasn't your fault she was hungover anyway.

"Shush! Do you want everyone to know?"

"I'm sure everyone knows by now,"

You gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"Jake kinda saw you guys, then he blabbered it to Sunghoon, and I guess others heard it because he was not quiet about it,"

Jake. You heaved a sigh, shaking your head a bit. "We're not boyfriend girlfriend official, but just … trying things out, you know?"

"I know," Yunjin let out a satisfied hum. "I think he'd be great for you,"

"Really?"

"He's a nice guy, Y/N. Judging from his reputation, he seems like a good man," Yunjin practically gave you her seal of approval, and it left you feeling happy for the rest of the period.

That was until lunch break where everything fell apart way too fast.

Walking out to the cafeteria, you didn't think much about anything else as you listened to Yunjin rant about her latest online purchase. But the moment you heard Jay's name along with yours in passing, your ears perked up. You thought nothing of it, leading up to Kim Minjeong confronting you head on and you knew that's when you should start worrying.

"Are you … the one with Jay?"

You glanced at Yunjin for a split second, anxiety bubbling in your stomach. "I guess?"

"You're a slut. Don't you know I have a thing for him? There's something call girl code—"

"Woah woah, wait, what? Look, we don't even know you like that," Yunjin quickly butt in upon seeing you fall silent.

"Everyone knows me! Everyone knows Jay and I had a thing! What is it you want? His popularity? Money—"

"Shut up,"

Speaking of the devil.

"You okay?" Jay appeared by your side, gaze softening once it landed on you. "I was searching for you, didn't know this is happening,"

"I—"

"Jay! What are you doing? Why are you with her—"

"Can you just quit it? We've been through this many times, Minjeong. I don't like you and I never have, why can't you just accept it?" He sounded exasperated, almost as if he had been putting up with this for ages. "Put my girl's name out of your mouth and leave her out of this. She's the one I want, not you,"

The only way you could describe Minjeong's face there was rageful. Her expressions were contorted and her lips were etched into a frown. She knew she couldn't defend herself further, so she eventually left with a huff.

It was quite unsalvageable at that point and you felt yourself breaking down from the inside out. Even when Jay called your name, you only shrugged him off and brushed past him. The worst part of all: he didn't run after you either.

Great. Now you were going to spend the rest of the day mulling in bed.

That didn't last long either. Once you got into bed, ready to sleep away from the day's incident and think back to Yunjin's pep talk, you heard your phone buzz. Not once, but multiple times. Who was sending messages at that time? Of course, it had to be him.

jjongster: hey, can we please talk?

jjongster: like right now

you: right now?

jjongster: yeah, send me wherever you're most convenient to meet

This was stupid. Sneaking out of your room when it's dark out and meeting Jay down the street from your house. All when your emotions were not stable and set yet. You've sent him the address and now he's waiting there, standing by his car like a dream.

"Hey," he called out softly as you walked closer to him.

"Hi," you hated this, the sudden stiffness and awkwardness that got between you two, you shouldn't be suffering because of it.

"Sorry for asking you to come out this late," he was quick to apologise, taking a step closer to you. He was always so nice, so kind and loving. "I–it's just eating me up, and I really wanted to tell you—speak to you—in person. I wanted to see you,"

"It's okay, I get it. I'm sorry too, for leaving so abrupt and ignoring you. That was wrong of me to do," you were feeling guilty about what you did earlier, letting your emotions get the best of you and neglecting Jay.

"I understand, don't worry. Are you feeling okay? I didn't expect that to happen, I'm sorry,"

"Don't apologise, it's not on you," you brushed away the strand of hair that constantly fell onto your face, occasionally avoiding his stare. "And I don't know. I don't know how or what to feel,"

He frowned. "Tell me, tell me what's on your mind,"

"Jay, what if this was all a bad choice? You're you, and I'm … me. You're the golden boy, everyone wants you! Now they're talking behind our backs and all I do is hear rumours that aren't true, names being called …"

"It's not a bad choice, Y/N! I want you … so much. No one else compares. Can't you see that?" Jay moved closer to you, his hands now on both your shoulders. "Don't push me away now,"

Jay was taking his chance, and you thought it was a big mistake, but he doesn’t. It might blow up in his pretty face, and you didn’t tell him straight on to do it anyway, yet you knew he was going to and he wasn’t going to care what others think.

"I could never," you shook your head, welcoming his embrace as he pulled you in, and before you knew it, the tears you held in all day started streaming down your cheeks.

He held you there on the pavement as you broke down in his arms, his hold on you never once loosened. There that night, under the starry sky and illuminating street lights was a connection and trust formed unknowingly between you and him, love that blossomed like a flower in spring.

"Gosh, I probably look stupid right now crying," you chuckled, pushing yourself slightly off of him to glance at his face.

"You look pretty, gorgeous to me," his thumb travelled to your cheeks, wiping away the tears that remained.

"I shouldn't have said that … us being a bad choice," you said quietly, cursing internally that you've even doubted it in the first place. "I trust you, Jay, I do,"

"Thank you," his hand travelled down to hold onto yours, a smile ever so soft. "We'll go at your pace. Whenever you're ready,"

"Whenever I'm ready." you repeated, unable to stop yourself from smiling either.

Jay knew he was already in deep, experiencing feelings he's never felt before in his eighteen years of life, but seeing you then, made him realise maybe young love was something to believe in. For once, he had a love to fight for.

Jay was true to his words. He, in fact, did throw a party at his place. But what he didn't tell you was the cleaning up, and boy, was it a headache.

Once everyone had filed out a little after midnight, it was only you and Jay left. It was peaceful. In an empty house that had music blasting in the background, you and Jay each struggled to pick up all the rubbish strewn. You liked this. You like him.

It might've taken a while, but eventually you had the place cleaned, or at least, rubbish-less. There was probably more deep cleaning needed (that was for the next day to worry about). However, for now, it was finally just the two of you, and a whole lot of space with nothing to do.

"Wanna go for a dip?"

"Now?" You glanced at the clock, then back at Jay, who was trying to convince you with his starry eyes and nodding his head like an overly enthusiastic puppy. "Fine."

You didn't even know why you agreed to it. It was a lucky decision you brought an extra pair of everything since you were staying over.

Jay was already in the pool, floating around when you walked out. The light coming from the pool was the only thing providing light. Blue reflection and wet messy hair made Jay increasingly dreamy, till the point where you stood there for a bit too long and he had to call for you.

"Coming!" You huffed, but the moment you reached the edge of the pool, you found yourself stuck and feeling nervous.

The sight of Jay's bare front and your lack of clothing was nerve wracking to even think about. Your mind was in a fuzz even as you accepted his hand and let him pull you in, the cool water invading your senses.��

His arms came to wrap around your waist, the only thing you could hold for support was his bicep, so that was what you reached for. Jay didn't mind, he only held you tighter, a conspiring glare glazed over his eyes.

"Hey," he tilted his head, gaze travelling all over your features. You were close, very close. It was almost as if you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

"Hi," you whispered back. Your hand was on its own journey, absentmindedly moving to his shoulder.

You should be dying out of anxiety by now, or even freak the fuck out, yet, you successfully kept your composure, in front of a hot man. Hooray!

"How's the water? I swear it's clean. I gated it off before the party,"

You laughed, remembering how Jake was so insistent on keeping the pool part of the party. He claimed that a pool party was way cooler than just a regular party. Jay was not convinced.

"It's nice. Chilly,"

Jay nodded for a bit, pursing his lips, thinking for a beat. "I'm glad you were here today,"

"Why?"

"I just like having you here, that's all,"

"You're so cheesy, it's annoying," you joked lightheartedly, knowing you secretly enjoyed this side of him.

"Whatever, you tolerate it anyway,"

He was right, you did. Over the few months, you've grown to memorise and remember every part of Jay. His habits, his likings, et cetera. It was crazy how your relationship grew with time, but the much crazier part was the fact that you two had not gone official yet.

"Against my will,"

"That's a lie,"

"Whatever you say," you said in a sing-song tone, which only made Jay roll his eyes, reaching up to pinch your cheek.

His gaze never left yours, not even once. It was trained on you, always had been and always will be. The eventual silence got to you, and it was just the distant noise of the water that filled the air.

It was one of those moments where you think 'was this real'. Spoiler: it was. He was testing the waters, you could tell, and you let him.

Jay inched a little closer, eyes flickering between you and your lips. It was obvious that he was nervous from the shaky breath and wavering confidence, but it only made you more relieved.

You let out a breath, meeting his lips halfway. At first, he was shocked, you were too, but for different reasons. Kissing him was a breath of fresh air. His lips moved against yours naturally as if it was his first instinct, like he has been waiting for this for ages, which was not entirely wrong. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss and you swore you felt yourself imploding.

The moment you two finally pulled away to catch your breath, you could only stare at him and hold onto him tighter as if you were afraid he might not be real. Jay chased after your lips, pressing haste pecks and smiling into every one of them. It was infectious, everything about him was and it had you intoxicated.

You realised at that second that you’d be willing to go against the world for him if you had to. Even if someone called you a ‘slut’ again, maybe it’d be worth it for once, and you knew he’d always be right there to defend you.

“I'm ready,”

“Hm?” he was still in a haze, eyes staring back at you with more than love in them.

“I’m ready to be yours, Jay, I’m serious,”

“You are?”

He has never been so relieved and happy leading up till that moment, just having you in his arms was about to make him burst. All he needed was to see you nod and watch your lips mouthing ‘yes’ as a confirmation before lifting you up, arms tight around you.

Under the moonlit swimming pool, you’ve never been happier.

The night might’ve already ended for others, but to you and Jay, it was still ongoing, and you wished for it to not end. So, there you were, in his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he lay beside you. There was barely any space between you and him, his hand brushed against yours from time to time, neither of you dared to move from your original position.

Half asleep, you were taking your time to do something. You took the chance to move your hand closer and gently made contact with his. It didn’t even take a beat for him to lace his fingers with yours, his grip ever so firm, calloused skin against yours. You could tell Jay was equally drifting in and out of sleep as you were, mind in a haze but awake enough to comprehend that you were next to him and not a figment of his imagination.

“I’m in love with you,”

It was faint, almost a whisper, but a mumble that was audible came from Jay. You turned your head to look at him, even under the dim lights, you were able to see that smile from him. The one that always made him look like a lovesick fool, that his friend would claim he’d have whenever he talked about you; it was a smile only reserved for you, and you were the cause of it too.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled out, eyes remained shut, but the smile stayed.

“Goodnight.”

There in the bed slept two young lovers, a fresh love that was unbreakable that connected the two of you together, all of it was fated. From the clinic to now, it might’ve started at the wrong place but it surely was at the right time, and you were glad to be next to him, hand in hand, anticipating what the future had in store for you two.

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey @shinrjj @kgneptun @ilovegyuvin @hyunniesvlog

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flippinpancakes64 · 10 months ago

Note

Hello, I absolutely love your work. iv re read your stuff so many times that it's getting concerning.

Can I request the cullens x artist reader who made a painting of them I just think that would be cute

The Cullens with an Artist! Reader

Thank you?!?! I suggest seeking mental help for rereading my bad stories tho

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

We all know that he is an artist too

He made Bella a whole song on the piano

As someone who can play the piano, that’s not easy

So he definitely loves that you’re also artistic

For you, he’s a muse

I mean, how could he not be

Literally the definition of perfect

So obvs you sketch him a lot

When he finds an almost finished painting one day of him, he is floored

He can never seem to wrap his mind around the fact that you are just as obsessed with him as he is with you

He hangs it up

Even if it’s not finished

If you insist on finishing it, he will begrudgingly take it down and give it back

But as soon as it’s done it’s all his

Alice:

She’s also an artist

But more with fashion

And design

She’s not so well-versed with the classical arts like painting or sketching

So she always loves seeing your paintings

She’s a coexistence girly

She loves to just be doing something while you’re painting

You know just sort of existing in the same space at the same time

The day you give her the painting, she is so surprised

It was so difficult for you to hide this from her

Especially with her gift

She absolutely loves it

She hangs it in the main room of the Cullen house

She wants absolutely everyone to see it and acknowledge how talented her s/o is

Jasper:

He loves the arts

They’re relaxing to him

Some of his favorite classes he’s ever taken in all of the schools they’ve been at have been art classes

He’s not good by any means, but he loves it anyway

Art dates with him are a must

He would love that tiktok trend where you and your partner trade paintings every couple of minutes

Never misses an opportunity to tell you that he loves your work

He honestly almost started crying when you showed him your painting of him

You made him look so happy, so peaceful

He’s used to being perceived as a monster

Definitely hangs it up

But only in his room

He wants to be the only one to see it

Rosalie:

She’s more of a technical, sciencey person

Not to say she doesn’t like art

Just that she doesn’t necessarily enjoy making it

She can definitely appreciate good work tho

And she loves everything you make

She buys you new supplies all of the time

If just one pen ran out of ink in your favorite set, she would buy you a whole new set

When you give her that first painting though, she’s obsessed

She wants at least 20 more by tomorrow

But actually, she knows that she’s beautiful

But something about the way you capture her is just so different she loves it

Emmett:

He’s not an art person either

He’s a bit of a meathead

But he can appreciate art

Probably not as deeply as other people can

But he know when it looks good

And he genuinely thinks you’re the best artist ever

He will gladly put all of your little doodles in the clear pockets of his binders

And hang them on his locker

When you give him the painting of him he’s actually dumbfounded

Like awestruck

What do you mean the best artist in the world just made a painting of him?

Get ready to be cuddled for the rest of the night

Esme:

Resident artist

We already knew that tho

I’m pretty sure it’s said that she’s the one who made the grad cap piece?

Idk

Either way she loves art

Pottery dates, painting picnics, date nights at the art museum

She loves it

So if you were to ever paint her and give it to her?

Yeah she’s gonna start crying

She just loves art, she loves you, and you put them together and she’s so in love

She hangs it in the main room

It doesn’t matter if the colors clash

And it’s never coming down

Carlisle:

Another appreciater of the arts

I mean, he probably knew Da Vinci on a personal level this guy is so old

So it’s no shock

Whenever he’s home and hanging out with you, he loves to watch you paint or draw

Especially if he’s doing some paperwork

I just feel like he would like the company while he’s working

Now I don’t see Carlisle as the type of guy to necessarily enjoy pictures or paintings of himself

The only portraits he has in his office are either him in a crowd or family photos

So when you give him a portrait of himself, he’s a little shocked at first

He doesn’t want to seem narcissistic, but damn you made him look good

He hangs it up in your shared bedroom

Even though he knows he will likely never have guests who would see it, he wants to make sure it’s hidden

He just doesn’t want people to think he’s vain

But he secretly loves it so much

Vampire! Bella:

I think I’ve talked about it before but this girl would have loved deviantart

Rip Bella you would have loved fan art of your favorite characters

But she totally had an artsy phase

I don’t think she’s necessarily good or bad

She just prefers to look at art rather than make it

So that’s where you come in

She loves just watching you work

Every once in a while she paints with you

But she always feels inferior when she looks at what you made vs what she made

So she usually just sticks to admiring

The first time you give her a portrait of herself, she doesn’t even know what to do

She’s still getting used to actually perceiving herself as beautiful

And then you capture her like she’s a goddess?

She needs to lie down

She loves it tho

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aropride · 4 months ago

Text

on the topic of special ed. i specifically remember in 6th grade one of my best friends was in both the gifted-and-talented program (we were in the same group for english, we did secret book club together) and the special ed program, and. you know those like. stool chairs with round bottoms that u could rock back and forth on, for like, kids with accommodations for adhd or whatever, idk if that's universal, but they were widely coveted and you could only have one in a normal classroom if you had it on ur disability accommodations plan. but if you were in g&t you got to use them in the Secret Meeting Room where you'd do secret book club, right. and i kind of assumed the special ed room was like that too, like you get a bunch of fun items and stuff and everyone treats you like the smartest kid in the world. well it is Not like that.

but i remember one day specifically where my friend was having a really bad day and was on the verge of a meltdown and she was like hey can i take my friend with me to the isolation room. (it was called something like that, maybe solitary room? either way it was something that even at age 11 i was like. bro what?) and i was like. the what? and she was like Oh that's where you go if you're having a meltdown or something and you're in special ed. so we went down to the room and it was in a corner near a janitors closet and i'd never even noticed the door before. and we went in and it was this. narrow, brick room, probably like 7 feet wide and 15, 20 feet long? and it had bright fluorescent lighting that was still somehow jarringly yellow, absolutely nothing on the walls or anything, and at the back wall. one (1) singular bean bag chair.

and i was like. this is where they bring you to CALM DOWN????? and she was like. yeah you get used to it i guess. if you have a meltdown they lock you in here and then screaming won't bother people since it's out of the way. I have forgotten most of my memories from elementary/middle school but i still remember standing in the doorway to that room feeling. so deeply horrified by the whole thing. while my friend thought of it as completely normal.

and like. that same year, or maybe the year before, my little brother was in another school, and he was having a lot of meltdowns and Problem Behaviors (as they were called). and the staff would tell my parents "he had some Behaviors but we Restrained him and he calmed down :)" and. while i was a kid at the time so my parents didn't tell me most of the story. what i know is my parents almost sued his school (and would have if we weren't poor) because when they say they "restrained" him, they meant they locked him in a tiny closet alone until he stopped screaming and crying and hitting the walls. and he was a tiny fucking kid. he was like, 8 at the time? weighed like 50 pounds. my parents found out bc he was coming home with bruises. it's evil it's inexcusable and frankly i hope every adult who turned a blind eye to it dies.

and it wasn't just him, it wasn't just that school, i've heard so many horror stories from my friends who were in special ed & stories my parents have told me about their friends' kids & stuff i've heard online from ex-sped kids etc etc etc. like the way these kids are treated is like, near-universally horrific.

like, if you were neurodivergent in the way where you were "smart" and didn't bother or upset anyone, while it was Very Traumatic (for reasons that have been Posted about by many many people, i don't need to explain them here i don't think). we were treated SO much better than the kids who were in special ed, or who had impulse control problems or meltdowns or anything like that that Bothered adults. and those facts can and do coexist. and it upset me when i was like 15, bc i had that kneejerk "are you saying my trauma isn't that bad" sort of reaction, but like.

being undiagnosed neurodivergent came with its own trauma obviously. and being in the g&t program could be stressful and isolating. but at the end of the day, like. as much as it could suck. they were treating us like we were special, throwing treats in our enclosure, telling us how Smart we are and how we definitely have an iq of 120 or whatever. we'd have little snacks and learn long division and whatever. Whereas they were straight up abusing the kids in special ed. objectively the way they were treated was horrific and cruel and inexcusable. and far worse than the g&t program was. like sorry if it upsets you to hear that. but they weren't locking us in closets they were throwing pizza parties and letting us use the fun chairs. it's just not comparable at all really

#text #abuse tw #ableism #ask to tag #sorry for the essay but i just remembered those things back to back

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misfits-in-motion · 5 months ago

Text

bleed me dry (vampire!frank iero x reader)

i fear i should js make it known i dont proofread. i dont word count. i write until it feels right and just GO so... yah ^^ anyways ermmm thats all i have 2 say OH and lowercase this time. feels more... good. if you guys hate it i can change it back to proper grammar n shiz

summary: you're aware of vampires. you know they exist. everyone in your town does, but they pretend like they don't. they know how to handle a vampire. they know how to get rid of one. vampires basically became part of the town like any other animal, person, or landmark. but it was a bit odder when your boyfriend of a month had been turned.

tw/cw: erm,,, lots of symbolism. a lot of it. gore/blood/biting/bleeding etc. and a lot of vampric tendencies used as symbolism/metaphors for love and smeggs,,, perhaps slight slight tensions. not smut, probably just'll get a liiiitle steamy,,, mostly fluff and a bit of silliness, too ^^

⠀in your town, vampires were like another day to day thing. curfew was advised, but not enforced. mostly because vampire related deaths had decreased significantly when townsfolk actually began carrying around holy water and crosses and stakes. things leveled out, and it became commonplace to kill vampires and call the exterminators to get rid of the body. and even then, vampires learned to stay away from people. once vampires stopped killing people, they became sort of... okay. people weren't fond of them, and occasionally you had people who befriended vampires or remained close with vampires post-turning. it was just normal.

⠀no-one really questioned or spoke about it, either. if you saw someone speaking with a vampire, you looked the other way. there were vampire-only bars. you could donate blood to a number of places to feed vampires because that was seen as a way to tamp down human deaths. you had even donated a few times. long story short, the townsfolk and vampires coexisted. a close yet distant relationship, parallel.

⠀as per usual, you went through the routine of doing your usual home lock-up. you remember doing it when you were little, walking around your house and checking every window and door after everyone else as if inspecting it to make sure it was up to par. you had just recently moved into your own place, and thus were keeping up the usual routine. at the end of the day, the last thing you wanted was death by bloody violation.

⠀with everything secure, you headed to your bedroom with a yawn. you finished up the last of your routine, getting a few things set up for the next day so that future you wasn't too pissed and past you for making you rush against the clock. you pulled yourself into bed, rubbing your eyes and yawning again when it dawned on you. you hadn't heard from your boyfriend, frank, for a few hours. usually, he would at least text you to let you know he was okay. he was childish and and asshole in that endearing sort of way, but not to the point of ignoring you. maybe he just got caught up in band practice. that wasn't too far off. frank's relationship with music was intense, and you could admire it. brushing it off as best as you could, you rolled over and attempted to let sleep overtake you.

☾•☾•☾

⠀when your body jolted awake, you initally assumed you came out of some nightmare that you'd begin to remember momentarily. but the moment never came. you were just awake. eyelids wide and staring up at your ceiling. was this sleep paralysis? you tried to move your head. well, certainly not sleep paralysis. you looked at your clock which read 2:23. good. you could at least go back to sleep. that was, until you caught the faintest bit of movement behind your curtains. a small creaking sound, almost as if something was being scraped at. picked at. great. mice. rats. something. that's what you wanted to believe, anyway.

⠀everything in your body told you to go lay back down. pretend you never heard anything and that it was some weird case of being out of it that caused you to hear such noises. that was easy enough to do, at least before you seized open your curtains and laid eyes on frank, your boyfriend, sticking a pocket knife between your window and the windowsill.

⠀bewildered, you unlocked the window and slid it open. "i have a front door. more importantly, i have a phone, and what exactly are you doing outside my window!?" you whisper-shouted. frank stopped, eyes a bit wide and face laid into an expression of realization.

"ohhh.... yeah, that would have made a lot more sense to do, huh?" he let out an apologetic, almost forgiveness seeking, giggle.

"just get your ass inside."

⠀frank complied, and squished himself into your room through the window. a slight chill followed him, and once he was inside, he shut the window and locked it just as you had. assuming nothing was really wrong, you headed back for your bed. it wasn't uncommon for frank to crash at your place just because he wanted to be with you.

"wait- wait, wait. i actually had a reason to come here, and i think the adrenaline and urgency is part of what made me... choose your window."

⠀confused, you turned and sat on the edge of your bed. frank, almost pleadingly without words, got to his knees in front of you and took your hands in his. you reserved anything to say, because quite frankly, you didn't know what to say. his behavior was strange. there was usually only one reason he liked to be on his knees in front of you. considering his expression and the tone of his voice, you didn't think this was that sort of thing.

"something... happened."

"...what?" instantly, your mind went for the wort, and it seemed like frank could tell, because he began shaking his head quickly.

"no-! no, no, no, nothing like that, no- never... i... i was... okay," he took a breath and wet his lips, seemingly trying to find the words, "i was out with the guys. fucking around like usual... and they- they fucking- they told me they got turned. like willingly, i guess. mikey's girlfriend, and then one of gerard's friends did him and ray... it's- it's a whole fucked thing but- but i- they- i did it, too."

⠀instantly, you wanted to pull away. not entirely out of fear for him, but perhaps fear of change. of the new. you had never been in close quarters with a vampire before. frank felt the slight tug of your hands, and squeezed them tighter in his own. "please, don't be scared of me. i'll loose it if you're scared of me, baby, please... just... just... just listen to me. i don't want to turn you, too, or anything- unless you want me to- but.. i... i just needed you. i needed you because no one else would understand and i just knew you would understand..."

"... what now..?"

⠀frank's eyes were shifty. glancing around to different parts of you. your throat. your wrists. your thighs. you weren't stupid. you knew what he was thinking.

"frank." your voice was soft, yet direct. "ask."

⠀instantly, it seemed like a weight fell from his shoulders. he relaxed visibly, and his eyelids slid half-way over his eyes. "i'm just so hungry, and i don't know where the blood banks are, and i'm so scared, and this is all so new, and-" you pressed a hand to his cheek, turning his face up toward yours.

"you're only going to take what you need, right? i- i don't want to die, if that's alright with you." you laughed lightly.

⠀frank nodded eagerly, and you pulled your hands back away from him. you shifted back on your bed, frank following you as if you were magnetic and drawing him in. as you leaned back, he leaned in. you were now only rested up on your elbows, frank hovering over you with one leg slotted between yours and the other over the outside of your thigh. he lifted his hand to smooth your hair back, then leaned in to press his lips to yours tenderly.

"i'll be careful. promise." he murmured.

⠀you tried your best to relax under his touch, one hand bracing your side while his other hand held to the back of your neck. you stared up at him, his features barely illuminated by the faint moonlight spilling into your room. he leaned down, and you felt your heart pound faster. his breath hitched as if he felt your blood rushing in your veins. with every inch he got closer, your heart beat even faster. then, he sank his teeth into your throat.

⠀the pain was unexpected, causing you to gasp. once you familiarized yourself with the feeling of his teeth piercing your skin, it became less painful and moreso uncomfortable. your blood being drained from your throat, the feeling of his teeth slotted deep into your neck. it hurt less than you thought, and part of you felt as if you could get used to this.

⠀what brought you out of your trance was the sound of frank moaning. whining. small noises that came from his throat as he tasted you. as your blood coated his tongue and throat and seeped into his tastebuds and filled his stomach. he moaned like he never tasted something so good before, and good didn't even begin to explain it. his fingers dug into your side, balling up your pajamas in his fist while his other hand gripped your neck.

⠀he was taking you in a brand new way. you kind of liked it. he sounded so pretty, and he was still warm, still pressed close to you, holding you as if he'd never hold anything else so dear to him. you could feel the slight sting of his nails dug into your neck, his hand breaking free just enough to grip into your hair and hold the roots in a tight fist. you whined, and instantly he pulled back. his lips were stained at their epicenter, a small trickle of blood coming from his bottom lip down his chin. shakily, you reached up to swipe away the bead. then, as if he knew what you had in mind, he opened his mouth a bit to allow you to swipe your thumb against his tongue. his grip tightened again for a moment, just at the sheer taste of you.

"are you okay..? did i hurt you?"

⠀you then realized he must have thought you whined in pain, which caused your face to flush slightly. "no.. no, you're okay. it wasn't that."

⠀his face lit up into an impish grin. and it was that exact moment you realized he hadn't really changed. physically, maybe. but he was the same frank. that shit-eating asshole, but at heart so beautifully emotional and himself. "you liked it, huh? when i pulled your hair?"

⠀you hesitated, then nodded slightly

he only gave a snide chuckle in turn. frank leaned down, dragging his tongue over the fresh puncture holes in your throat. cleaning you. he then pulled away, wetting his lips. you could tell he was still hungry. you moved your hand to pull your sleeve down your shoulder a bit, and upon realizing what this meant, frank leaned in with a fervor. again, you felt the sting of his teeth sinking into you, draining more of your blood second by second.

⠀you were now pinned by his weight, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress by lacing his fingers with yours. he still made sure to tenderly rub the side of your hand with his thumb. frank was breathing intensely, his breath hot and heavy enough to create a thin film of sweat over your shoulder and throat. only now was a slight delirious feeling beginning to make itself known

⠀somehow, it made everything that much more intense. you could feel the way his fingertips traced down your forearm, moving one hand to brace the other side of your throat. still drinking, he began to slowly rut his hips. a subtle movement, but a movement nontheless. grinding against your thigh just because of the taste of your sweat, skin, and blood. he groaned lowly, his hand squeezing yours every once and while. you lazily lifted your hips, eager to meet his in some way, and he matched this by slotting his thigh firmly between your legs. you didn't know if he even knew he was grinding against you.

⠀seconds felt longer as they passed, and eventually you realized the room was spinning ever so slightly. you lifted your free hand, gently tugging at frank's sleeve. you hummed, trying to catch his attention in some way. and, though delayed, it worked. frank pulled away, panting as he licked at your fresh wound again and again as if it would spout any more new blood. you were his new addiction. he wasn't going to let you go any time soon.

⠀ finally, frank rolled onto his back, catching his breath most likely out of habit. "fuck... that was so good. you're so fucking good..." he giggled breathily, then turned his head to glance at you. "oh shit," he sat up, quickly taking you into his arms and helping you sit up. "are you good? are you okay? fuck, did i take too much? i'm so sorry, i wasn't fuckin' thinking and i was just tasting you-"

⠀lazily, you raised a thumbs up. he stopped his rambling and smiled.

"right. let's get you some band-aids and water."

AHHH this was so fun ^^ hope u guys likeeee comments and critiques in the notes plss !!!

#mcr #my chemical romance #american rock band my chemical romance #frank iero #mcr x reader #frank iero x reader #frank iero fanfiction #frank iero smut #mcr fanfiction #mcr smut #mcr x reader smut #vampire my chemical romance

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b33zlebubz · 1 month ago

Text

Ingydar | starve

joel miller x reader | mdni 18+ | ao3

previous | next

tags: reader uses she/her pronouns, blood gore and death, mentioned cannibalism, sexual tension, frostbite/hypothermia, amputation, everyone is touch-starved

You're a loner in the woods. A ghost story to the kids, a tale of caution to the hunters. A rumor of smoke on the mountain and a glow between the trees. Joel Miller finds himself tangled up in your story and slowly discovers that you're not nearly as dangerous as you've made yourself out to be.

You know it doesn’t do anything immediately, not really, but the first dose of antibiotics shot into your leg feels like heaven just the same. Maybe it’s the relief of knowing you’d live another day, maybe it’s just another anxiety lifted off your heavy shoulders—but you feel better. Less strung-up and desperate. Like a battle won fair and square, even though you didn’t do much other than ask questions first and threaten to shoot later.

The dental floss snapped during your tussle with Tommy, flooding your boot with blood and puss whenever you eventually took it off. You weren’t terribly upset, though, taking the time to treat the wound more properly. Draining it, cleaning it, suturing it shut and wrapping it in bandages. And then, of course, flooding your veins with antibiotics.

You sleep the next few days, only waking to take your medication every morning and every night. Weaning off the drugs, your nightmare returns, and Joel is still there. Town on fire. Falling into the ditch. Grabbing your ring. Joel.

Joel. Joel. Joel. You try not to linger on it.

Whenever your fever finally breaks and you feel well enough to hunt, you head out just to nearly trip over the box left on your doorstep, hidden by the collective snowfall of the past few nights.

Inside is food. Jerky and apples. At the very bottom, about two periods worth of tampons. The sight makes you blink, completely dumbfounded by the display of kindness clearly not put together by the two men who visited you earlier in the week. Your period was a rarity reserved usually for better weather and months of low-stress, but it's a relief just the same.

There’s no name attached, no note, but if you had to guess it was probably whoever Tommy had waiting for him back in Jackson—his boot prints and horse tracks fresh enough to distinguish at the bottom of your steps. Maybe a day and a half old.

It’s the most thoughtful thing you’ve received in a long time. You don’t deserve it, not really, but it would feel even worse letting something as precious as fruit and tampons go to waste. So, you let yourself rest another day, enjoying a light dinner of jerky and apples before returning to bed.

Slowly, everything falls back into place and things return to normal. You get better. Winter somehow gets worse. You repair your steps, your door, and your window. Tend to your pair of chickens and search for food during the height of the day while it’s warm.

Still, that isn’t the last you see of Joel. Not in unconsciousness, not in real life.

Patrols become ever more frequent; teams going out to hunt sometimes twice a day, when the weather permits. Joel is usually there, and you don’t know if it's just because you’ve gotten better at spotting him or if he really is out as often as he is.

He’s keeping an eye on you, though. Spreading the word, telling people what to look for and what to avoid. The people of Jackson have gotten better at spotting you and when their curiosity gets them too close, he calls them off. A stern stick to your routes through the radio or a let’s get going whenever a kid follows you into the trees. It's a blessing and a curse, because although his consistent presence is relieving, you’re growing fond of him. The closest thing to an uneasy acquaintanceship you’ve had in years. Unfamiliar feelings. Foreign trust. An easy understanding built on nothing but you keep your distance and I’ll keep mine.

Nevertheless, coexisting with Jackson gets easier as you adjust to the frequent footsteps in the snow along your property. You leave them food, sometimes, taking what you need when you hunt and leaving the rest for whoever catches wind of you from the bushes. Animals get more rare by the day. You only manage to shoot anything decent about once a week. Still, you leave what you can spare. Meat only lasts so long and you’re only one person, anyway. You can spare some scraps.

Nothing else gets stolen, and nobody bothers you past lingering looks from across streams and the laughing of young men and women joking and trekking up the mountain. Your presence slowly changes from an urban legend to a creature in the woods—docile unless provoked.

You’re okay with that.

***

It’s mid December—you think—the next time your quiet life is disturbed. It’s a rare warm day, warm enough that your face doesn’t sting after hours out in the snow. Sweat collects under your coat from the sun, glittering across packed snow and frozen trees. The world feels a little more alive today than it has in weeks.

Still, your breath clouds out in front of you and feels tight in your lungs as you walk to a nearby stream, temporarily thawed. Water trickles thin over rocks and ice, enough for you to wash your hands of the rabbit that sits on your sled not far from where you stand. You watch the red swirl with blue and white, the water frigid but refreshing.

You catch yourself in the reflection, one of those rare moments where you actually get to see yourself. Your jawline is sharper, now. Eyes sunken and dull. Whether it's mud in your hair or the burn of the sun across the summits of your face, you never recognize yourself. You don’t know why you keep half-expecting to look the same as you did a month ago, but you never do.

While once upon a time you might have actually cared, might have taken a second to mourn your unevenly-chopped hair or the scar on your cheek, now it just pulls a scoff from you. If anything, you look more real than you did a few weeks ago, and you feel content with that.

Gunshots echo through the mountains.

Startled, you look up just in time to see three crows burst from a clearing about a click from where you stand. A breath leaves you at the sound, a quick succession. Two more, and then nothing. Three a few seconds later, closer. Louder. Then nothing again.

The sounds lead you to a place you know well—a burnt-down, dilapidated village. A place that once could be considered cozy, walkable and closed off from most of civilization. A raided dollar general, a couple of houses, a church, a Wendy's, and a small, frozen-over pond hidden by snow. You pass a welcome sign, slapping your hand against it.

Ingydar. Now just a collection of corpses and charred wood. A ghost town, really. Half buried in snow and forgotten.

The sounds lead you to a warehouse tucked away in the trees, down a road towards the edge of town. A caved roof splintered and snaked with the brown tendrils of overgrown, dead ivy. Two pick-up trucks parked beside it, broken and raided of anything worth keeping. You would know; you syphoned the last of the gasoline out of them four years ago.

The snow around it is littered with footprints and a handful of runners, still twitching and leaking foul blood from fresh bullets to the head. You nudge one with your boot, a woman about your age, mushrooms blooming between her eyes.

There’s a grunt from inside. The snarl of another runner. Two more unsuppressed gunshots that burst through the collapsing roof, making you flinch. You raise your gun quickly, jogging around the side of the building to the double doors that weren’t open before. Sunlight spills in and a shotgun sits on the concrete.

A breath leaves you and you sit your rifle on your shoulder. It fogs into the silent, freezing air as you enter with even steps into the dark. There’s shuffling, you hear it, but it's hard to distinguish from where.

Something slams into your back.

You yelp, sputter, and gasp as the breath is knocked from your lungs. Snarls fill your ears as something bites at your clothes and you slam the butt of your rifle into the clicker’s head. It explodes into creaky, bubbling noises, falling just as another launches for your arm.

Then, the swing of a crowbar. Metal glinting against the sun. Rotted flesh explodes over your clothes and you kick the dead clicker at a live one.

Joel. He grunts as the clicker changes course and launches at him, scrambling backwards before falling against the crates. You’re quick to finally swing your rifle around and shoot, blasting infected blood on the ceiling.

Aside from you and Joel’s labored breathing, it’s silent. Your eyes go from the ceiling, to the blood on your clothes, back up to where Joel catches his breath. His chest heaves as he catches your gaze just as you find his; wide-eyed and shocked.

For a while, you both just stare. Breathe. Catch up to the moment.

You clear your throat and brush the worst of the blood off, “you bit?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, his gaze unreadable. He’s frazzled, notably so. Covered in blood, damp with snow, and eyebags deeper than you last saw him. He stares at you for a moment longer, something passing over his eyes before he shakes it off and rights himself. “No.”

“Good,” you say and push yourself back up on two feet. Still, your voice is rough. You reach out, tentatively offering a hand. He seems to hesitate at the sight before taking it. He grunts as you pull him back up to his feet.

“You’re a long ways from home,” you observe.

He places a hand against the wall to steady himself, recovering. One hand on his chest. It was a close call, closer than anything you’ve had in a while, so you don’t blame him.

“We’re out of food,” he breathes.

“What?”

“We’re out of food,” he repeats, clearer, and the deep-rooted frustration under his tone is the most emotion you’ve heard from him yet. He stands, crossing the room to rifle through boxes again as if he didn’t just almost die. “Refugees came in yesterday, just passin’ through—packed our reserves into bags and left during the night.”

You huff, shoulders dropping a little as your eyes follow him to the crates near the wall. Apparently, you were on better terms with him than you thought. Good enough for him to trust you with this information, anyway. Or maybe he just really needs to vent to someone uninvolved, you really aren’t sure.

“Sounds like you should’ve kept it locked up and guarded.”

“We did,” he snaps, rustling through old wood. “Now we’ll be lucky to make it through the end of the next month. There’s no animals around, no flour, no rice—nothin’.”

He sighs heavily, tense, as he looks out over the dead around him.

“I’ve got every fuckin’ squad out right now and everyone’s comin’ back empty handed.”

You huff, following him curiously as he moves about. “Well, you’re not gonna find anything here.”

“Says who?”

“Says me,” you cross your arms. “This was my warehouse.”

Not your’s, not really, but he doesn’t need to know that. Still, he doubts you, glancing back and shooting you a look; halfway between incredulous and surprised. A look that screams bullshit, clearly mastered through years of getting fucked over. You don’t blame him, you’d be suspicious too if a stranger told you the same. But for once, you were telling the truth. Half of it, anyway.

“Look. I’ve got rice stored up in my shed at the lookout. Bags of it. It’s yours as long as you come get it, but—” You raise a hand to stop him before he can interrupt. “I won’t give it up for free.”

He just looks at you. Considering, thinking. He shifts his weight from one foot to the next, fingers flexing against his palm. He glances to the door, to the crates, then back to you. The look of a man who needs help, but doesn’t want to admit it. It would almost be endearing if lives weren’t at stake. Almost.

Joel lets out a breath that fogs into the cold air. Slowly reaches into the pocket of his coat and pulls out a crumpled baggy, tentatively offering it. You grab it quickly, rolling the green buds in your hand—flaky. Good. Great, actually. Your eyes widen, just a little, before you glance up to look at him.

“You guys had weed this whole fucking time?”

He only huffs. He picks his shotgun back up from the floor and shoulders it before pointing a finger in your face.

“You screw us over,” he threatens, voice low and eyes narrowing. He’s got a shattered watch around his wrist. “I’ll blow your head off.”

You roll your eyes. If you really wanted him dead you would’ve done away with it through the scope of your rifle a month ago. Still, he’s suspicious, and you can’t help but admire his pig-headedness.

“No bullshit,” you say, offering a hand.

He shakes it.

***

If you had accounted for the fact that you had to travel back to the lookout with Joel, you think your conversation may have played out a little differently.

You’re at least grateful he picks up on your uneasiness whenever you follow him back to his horse. Four people are with him scouting; two older men, two younger. You hang back, just off by the trees. It's officially the most people you’ve interacted with in months and you’re not super keen on getting too close. He persists that he’ll go with you alone. A reckless decision on his part, maybe—but one you appreciate anyway. He’s more trusting than you pegged him for.

“You coming?” He says whenever he gets on his horse. You short-circuit a little, realizing he wants you up with him. It’ll be faster, definitely, but the thought of being basically against his back makes your throat tight. Uneasy for a reason you can’t quite place.

“No,” you say, too quick. “I can walk.”

You think he’s going to fight you on it, but he doesn’t. Just nods, pulls the reins, and follows.

“‘Suit yourself.”

You end up on the horse a little less than halfway there, anyway, after you collect your rabbit. The snow is too deep now to go the short way up the mountain without the help of the horse, and it isn’t long before climbing through the snow feels more ridiculous than clinging to a near-stranger’s back.

He’s hard to read, silent for most of the journey as you clutch the back of his coat, but he doesn’t seem bothered. Like he’s used to it, having people around. Living in groups and having someone at his back when he rides. Maybe even comforted by it.

You take the time to study him.

He’s got scars, calloused hands. Ones that suggest he was a worker even before everything went to hell. A revolver that digs into your knee a little and a shotgun at his back. Worry lines between his brows, on his forehead, and around his eyes. Dark, greying hair a little long around his ears, almost concealing a scar on his temple. You have a few guesses as to what it might be from and you file them away in your mind, missing pieces of a puzzle.

His back is warm against your palms, much like his hand was whenever you helped him up. Maybe it's the fact that it's been a long time since you’ve had any contact with anyone, maybe it's just getting cold again—but every brush of his boot to yours feels more significant than it should.

For once, you’re the first to break the silence. Anything to break the quiet, distract you from the closeness.

“Tell Tommy’s wife I said thank you,” you say. “For the box.”

This surprises him. He glances back at you and his eyes are dark brown.

“How’d you know he’s married?”

“He had a ring,” Your voice is getting stronger, the rasp you've had for years slowly fading with each time you speak. “And I know neither of you would think to gift me tampons.”

He thinks for a moment, confused. Then, he lets out something that could be considered a huff, turning back to the road ahead. It’s silent again, and a moment passes. A breeze picks up through the trees, picking up snow with it and dusting it across the landscape.

“‘Just had a kid last week,” he mutters reluctantly, breath clouding out in the cold. “Tommy’s wife.”

The thought that someone might be comfortable enough in their environment to bring a kid into this world is a confusing one, for you. Too many things could go wrong, nevermind the fact that it's another mouth to keep fed and out of trouble. It explains the scramble for food, though. Tommy’s absence, too.

You think back to the teenaged girl you saw him with and wonder, again, what he is to her. They didn’t look super similar—not that you remember, anyway—but he had protected her like she was his own. Like a daughter.

You blink for a moment before you come back to yourself and recall how people usually reply when presented with such news.

“Congratulations,” you murmur, and he only grunts.

“He’s a nervous wreck, especially after last night. Nearly has the whole town in a panic.”

“How many are there?” You ask. “Of you.”

Joel thinks for a moment, considering. “About a hundred, now.”

It makes your skin crawl a bit. Not because numbers particularly mean danger, but because of what might happen if danger comes along. “Goddamn.”

“Yeah,” Joel nods in agreement. “Getting more in every few days, too. Now that word is spreading.”

You purse your lips and let the conversation fall flat.

It stays quiet after that until you both get to the base of the mountain. You give him shortcuts, then. Tell him it's safer to stick to areas that are less steep, that infected get stuck in the snow and collect at the bottom of the mountains and hills. He’s wary, but takes your advice anyway, and you both get up to the lookout before the sun sets.

It's quick. Quiet. He loads two bags of rice up onto his horse and tosses you back the bag of weed. Once it’s all said and done, Joel stops you before you can run off again.

“There was something I was told to ask,” he says slowly. “If I ran into you again.”

It’s still weird, being perceived. Knowing people were talking about you, now, knowing you existed outside of just being a whisper of a rumor in the wind. A phantom. A ghost story. You linger as he talks.

He purses his lips. If just asking for food took effort, this favor was damn near impossible to force from his throat—proud, stubborn. His hands flex again. His weight shifts, too, a nervous habit.

“You’ve been here a while,” he says slowly. “‘Know the area…right?”

You hesitate, mulling over his observation before you nod once in agreement, letting him finish.

“I need help huntin’,” he ducks his head down just a little as if in defeat. “If you’re willin’.”

You expected the question, really, ever since you let Tommy have that moose some time ago. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have opened up that communication to Jackson. If Tommy would’ve asked back then you would’ve said no, picked up your sled, and disappeared—but this time you’re just hesitant.

You see a friend, potentially, in Joel. A warmth that wasn’t there before today that burns, small but steady, under your skin. Maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t press for conversation, or force you to work with strangers, but you’re a little fond. The beginnings of something you can’t quite pinpoint, buried under years of walls, stirs something uncomfortable in your chest. Something that makes your ring feel colder, tighter around your finger.

You should say no, but you can’t. Your mouth doesn’t give your mind the chance to.

“...you bring more flower,” you say, measured and even. “And yeah. I’ll help.”

That almost gets an amused huff from him. “Deal.”

“Meet me here. Sunrise. Just you,” you tell him. “I’ll show you the best spots.”

He lets out a breath and nods, relieved. He turns to leave, yanking on the reins to make his way back down the mountain. As he turns, as you watch his horse begin to trot off, you speak up one last time. Step forward towards him.

“Hey, Joel.”

He turns. “Yeah?”

“Your watch is broken.”

He doesn’t even glance at it, turning back to the path ahead of him. Just waves you off, the face flashing at you as it catches the setting sun in broken glass for just a second.

“I know,” he says over his shoulder. “I keep it that way.”

***

Joel’s visits slowly become routine.

At first, they’re quiet. Sporadic. He shows up a couple days out of the week at the very first smudge of light on the horizon. Half the time it’s before you’re even out of bed, and you scramble to get your shit together at the first huff of his horse at the bottom of your lookout.

“Jesus, Joel,” You mutter with a shake of your head, descending the steps that first morning with a voice still scratchy from sleep. It was heavy, weighted and quiet by the weed the night before. Too heavy to properly dream. You doubt you’ve slept that well since your injury. It leaves your head foggy, and you make a mental note to cut the dose in half for future use. Your tolerance isn’t nearly what it used to be and it shows.

Joel regards you with nothing more than an indifferent squint through the dark. “You said dawn.”

“Dawn,” you huff, joining him at the bottom and pulling your pack closer onto your shoulders. “Not the ass-crack of it.”

“You ready to go or not?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

You learn just a little bit more about him with every trip, whether he wants you to or not. He drinks coffee, if the stale scent of it on his clothes one day is any clue. He’s partially deaf in one ear and the lead contractor for Jackson. Skilled with a rifle in a way that’s military, a deadly shot. You watched him level an elk that kept you and Jackson fed for a while.

Slowly, things get more comfortable. Comfortable enough for him to tell you where he’s from.

“Texas,” he says. “Spent the first ten years or so of the outbreak with FEDRA. Left on a smuggling job and never went back.”

You nod in understanding. Most people are refugees, you’re starting to learn. Escaping from Fireflies, FEDRA, or abandoning their duties as such. You’re thankful that the government is one thing you’ve managed to outrun, during all this.

“How’d you end up here, then?”

This makes him hesitate, like he’s choosing his words carefully. Like he isn’t sure how much to tell you. You watch the gears turn behind his eyes as he presses two branches together, forcing them to stand steady in the snow.

“Tommy was here first. Started a family. Started takin’ in people, repairing the city, building the hold.” he says evenly. “Building somethin’ safe.”

You nod along as he speaks, but he doesn’t elaborate. Something safe, like he was hiding from something. Protecting something. The girl, you think.

It falls silent and you watch him work. He’s picked up on your advice fast, wrapping wire around a stick. Making the loop big but not too big, just enough for the head to get caught. Good. Perfect, even.

You purse your lips and let out a breath, looking away. To distract yourself from the heaviness of his physical presence at your feet, you offer him some scraps of conversation as well.

“Nowhere’s safe. Not really,” you say, shifting your weight and adjusting your hold on your gun. “But if you’re looking for quiet you picked the right spot.”

He huffs. “On human or Infected terms?”

You think back to the last group of infected you saw pass through, well over ten years ago now whenever things were still settling from the outbreak. Whenever the air still buzzed with anger and fear, smoke still rose from the horizon. FEDRA and Fireflies, however, were very few and far between.

“Both. But it's the desperate survivors that you have to watch out for,” you glance to him. “People will say and do anything to stay alive another day.”

He meets your gaze, something passes through his eyes for a moment before he nods in agreement and resumes his work. He clears his throat.

“You should come down,” he says to you for the first time. Your heart jumps a little, surprised by the invitation, but his eyes are still focussed ahead. Brow furrowed. You’re not sure what it means, still not quite sure how to read him sometimes—but if you didn’t know any better, he almost seems shy.

You let out a breath, shifting your weight again as he tightens the rabbit snare. “Come down?”

“For the holidays,” he clarifies, pulling the wire tight. Still, you try not to focus too hard on his hands as he does. “Come meet the city so people stop thinkin’ I’m crazy.”

You huff. You should say no, but you hesitate. Grow nervous. Your brain grapples with the idea for a moment too long before you shake your head.

“Don’t do holidays,” you answer, looking away. “But thanks.”

Christmas comes and goes. As expected, Joel doesn’t show. A part of you is happy he’s taking the time to lay low. He doesn’t really seem like the type unless he’s forced, and you think maybe Tommy talked him into relaxing. Taking a break. You’re glad.

You lighten up on your rules.

You move your pelts aside for the first time in a while that New Years to study the dark landscape, light a fire in your oven and stay inside for the day. The stars—although still bright—are dimmed by the lights pressed off between the mountains. Brighter with the people of Jackson celebrating. You seat yourself at your desk and watch, a jar clutched loosely in your fist. Moonshine. A gift from Joel, although you haven’t touched much of it, wary of where your thoughts might go if you do.

Holidays were nothing, usually. Just more days on the calender to power through. You make an effort not to celebrate because you want to keep memories of before distant, dull. It was easier to keep going that way. Easier to stay sane.

It felt harder not to this year, for some reason. Watching the city between the mountains buzz with warm life while frost collected on your windows.

Tonight, though, you allow yourself to relax. Sit back and stare at the ceiling, feel the cold of your ring against the jar of alcohol. It’s strong. It sits warm in your stomach and loosens your shoulders, makes unwelcome thoughts come easier.

Like Joel’s hands.

You take a breath, tilt your head back. Close your eyes. The more time you spend with him the more he takes up your mind with unwelcome thoughts. It’s just proximity, you know this. A stupid, fleeting thing that’ll pass with time. Feelings and urges stemmed from too long alone. He brings a warmth you’re not used to, a touch that lingers, and it's something familiar. A memory that burns when it breaches for air. Something that makes you shift in your seat, thinking of him. What it’d be like, having someone else around again. Depending on someone. Having him kiss your neck. Kissing his neck.

You go to bed before the thoughts become consuming. Joel’s teeth still sink into your trachea just the same.

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#the last of us #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller #ellie williams #joel tlou x reader #joel miller/reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo

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rrezshifts · 5 months ago

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𝓻𝙚𝙖𝖑𝙞𝙩i𝙚𝙨 𝙞’d 𝙡o𝙫𝙚 t𝙤 𝙛𝙞n𝙙

this is a list of realities i compiled from three lovely people’s dr ideas posts: ellysdreamworldd, deminetly, & lalalian. this post is a way for me to clear out my likes without having to keep track of the realities i’m interested in shifting to in a notebook i’ll lose or forget about . . .

a retro high school/college reality. this could be a reality from any decade where retro still fits. the original poster wrote 70s-00s. i feel like i partly already have this with my twilight reality, it’s set in the early 2000s. but it’s definitely something i could be interested in shifting to outside of that reality

2000s victoria’s secret angel reality. see this is weird because i am a trans man. and like . . . the parts of my body that are inherently feminine and ideal for an angel, i don’t like. however, it can be what i like so put my ideal masculine but twinkish form in some lingerie and call it a day!!

professional tourist reality. a reality where i have all the money in the world and travel the world with no responsibilities seems SO fun! but like an ideal and bigotry free world. and also i get to bring someone with me!!

vampire reality. tbh i already have a few of those . . . but i’m not in love with them. that and they’re from pre-existing media, and i want one that i can really play with and make my own and just fall in love with my own mind and life through it, yk??

royalty reality. this could be so so incredibly fun. but i fear the way i view and picture a royalty reality in my mind at the moment . . . it’s off putting. i’d need a new perspective to look at these type of realities from before trying any world building or i may genuinely give up immediately

summer camp reality. as the counselors of course. like imagine being a counselor with other hot people your age and just bouncing from counselor to counselor all summer as we all sneak around camp after curfew and just go crazy!! though i technically have a reality like this already . . . my the quarry reality is basically this because i removed all the horror game elements. i should think about it more though for sure, that why i put it here

mermaid reality. like genuinely the way the original poster described it as a the little mermaid kind of romance plot almost makes me not scared of the deep ocean aspect of this reality. but i love marine biology and marine animals so like i would realistically love this too. this is another one though, that i would need a perspective shift because right now the idea of this reality is off putting to me as well

magic university reality. quite literally just hogwarts in my marauders reality. but i haven’t scripted shit and i need to get on it. so i’m adding it in hopes that’ll change. it won’t lol

small town shop owner reality. the original poster said it was a flower shop. but the idea of it being like a small business of my choice, for example a metaphysical shop, and falling in love with the small business next door’s owner?? bonus points if it’s a tattoo artist i fall for, because why can’t fanfic tropes come to life!!

planetary romance reality. described as exploration of different planets with romance specifically with aliens. and you know what . . . i’m not gonna lie. the romance with aliens is what sold me!! call me what you want! (it’ll probably be true) but this genuinely seems like such a fun reality to get to workshop!!

eco-metamorphosis reality. described as a world being colonized by aliens but instead of rejecting them you welcome them with open arms. and i was thinking this could be so fun to imagine a world that has coexisted with aliens for generations now, a good many years after, and how that looks and what daily life would be like

that’s all of them!! please look at their posts if you liked any of these and want to see what else they have shared!! i’ll tag them here so they know i used their posts for a sort of form of content @ellysdreamworldd , @deminetly & @lalalian !! thank you for the great ideas 🙏

#rrez’s thoughts #rrez’s text posts #shiftblr #reality shifting #desired reality #shifting antis dni #shifting blog #shiftblr community #reality shifter #rrezshifts

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barkingsnowseal · 5 months ago

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While I sip on my apple tea and eat my apple pie, let me tell you another my opinion of Calebs storyline.

Warning: Spoilers!

First of all, I was always a Caleb stan the moment I saw him and chapter 4 broke me back then. My worry was, how the devs will handle him in the story. It is hard writing a character who is suppose to be dead in MCs eyes.

His introduction was🥵 him in uniform and then using his evol against an assassin had me feel things and then the scene where the fleet landed and him in his sunglasses AHHHHHH!

The interrogation was also hot af! But that’s not my point, I could go on for days talking about how sexy Caleb is lol When they hugged you could actually feel the relief on both sides. Let me say this but MC in this story was better than before in my opinion.

And I know a lot are creep out by his possessiveness but knowing that he also lost his parents as a young child he probably was already traumatised and then MC came into his life, someone who gave him warmth, that little boy wanted to start protecting his sun so bad. In his anecdotes there is a hint that Caleb was already possessive like he is now. He almost lost his life too during his training as an aerospace pilot but the only thing that kept him fighting was the thought of MC. And now after the explosion he took the sacrifice to be an experiment so that MC won’t have to go through that. In his mind it’s better to be alive than letting MC fight on her own.

And that chip??? Every soldier seems to have in the fleet where they basically become cold and emotionless soldiers? Or when that kid was crying for his sister’s death and the chip realised an error? MC in his myth was implementing one into herself (Might be wrong but I think it is heavily implied) and the chip made her go crazy. She thought there is no tomorrow! Maybe that chip also makes Calebs fear even bigger and that’s why he’s like that now. And possessiveness might not be count as a “weak feeling” by the system.

His possessiveness throughout the main story makes more sense now if you keep that in mind. Am I still mad that he drugged us? Edit: A friend of mine told me that the english translation once again sucks ass. In Chinese it was just cold medicine and he just took the chance since MC was already sick to his advantage. Absolutely! But it shows me how easy it is for love turning into possession, the fear he feels makes him do things he normally wouldn’t act out. He wants to protect his sun so bad.

MC however wants to go back in time where everything was still alright. She sees that Caleb is in pain, that someone who had no secrets with her suddenly is not telling her everything. Unlike Zayne, who MC met again as basically “a stranger”, Caleb was constantly in her life and both of them didn’t want to be separated ever. It is understandable that she can’t grasp the “new Caleb” yet.

Both of them yearn for each other so badly and want whats best for the other one but they need to understand that none of them is the same as before. MC is not a child, she knows things about herself which she can’t ignore anymore and Caleb needs to accept that. MC on the other hand needs to accept that after the explosion, Caleb due to circumstances is not the Caleb she knew before.

I was so happy when the start of his myth told us that they found a way to coexist but you could feel that they don’t fully accept it 100%. Yet both of them are ready to die for each other.

And let’s not forget that MC is possessive herself. In his 4* where MC kisses his cheek, the story was about how MC thought he got a love letter and knowing how Caleb never accepted one before, she got curious. She vaguely asked Caleb in 3rd person and he thought she had a crush on someone. Both of them were restless and who tf gets restless not knowing your best friend crush?? UNLESS you yourself are possessive for that person. And the promise they both made at the end? “You promise to not ever get a girlfriend!” That is one cruel promise to make UNLESS again, you are possessive if each other and deep down you know you’ll end up together😂Crazy finds crazy😂

I really like how the devs wrote this story. It is exactly how I thought the vibe would be between those two and I can’t wait for the next story cards and main story.

What is your thought, dear reader?

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where-dreamers-go · 1 year ago

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I love your Dbh Connor writing 😍 can you please write something (if you'd like) in his pov of him realizing he *feels* for the reader, though he'd likely not know what that entails and what to call it. Just something introspective exploring his inner logic when it comes to his newfound deviancy? Thanks so much ❤️ I hope life treats you well!

“Feelings And Deviancy” Rk800 Connor x Reader

(A/N: Awh! I’m glad you’re enjoying them. Here’s a little something where Connor finds himself in a new routine with feelings he can’t pinpoint just yet. Warnings: Use of (Y/N) for your name. Word Count: 1,072 words)

Detroit held much to be discovered, especially when living was a new concept.

No more demonstrations or frantic humans in the streets.

It was almost quieter.

Connor took up walking to explore the city upon his deviancy. To rediscover the world.

Androids and humans were coexisting again. Nothing was perfect. Never was.

On one of his walking routes he had noticed a change. More life in a small bookstore beside an always popular coffee shop. The display window no longer appeared as a physical advertisement or thumbnail. No longer the attention-seeking images. Lined, stacked, and decorated with air plants were books. Physical books. Yes, there were always tablets for sale, but the display was not leveled. Nothing about it was symmetrical.

He was compelled to enter.

That was two months and two days ago.

Blinking, Connor found himself there again. The colorful bookshop in the shadow of quick service caffeine. He stood in front of the display. New books had been added, angled to show their spines, designed in detail to allude to the story’s tone.

Spying movement from inside, Connor moved to open the door and entered.

Familiar bookcases remained in their usual placements. Each shelf neatly arranged with books categorized by genre, author, and title. The usual.

I wouldn’t expect anything less.

Connor urged himself to search by sight and not scan. To take his time was a skill in need of practicing.

Light display flickering to yellow, he stepped further into the shop. He wasn’t alone inside. Towards the back, a couple of older individuals could be heard in hushed tones. They were regulars, almost every Friday.

He’s probably holding a stack of books for her again.

Connor found himself doing the same; visiting every Wednesday and Friday. Creating another routine.

What interest could a deviated android have in a bookshop?

Connor pondered on that question each day. Every time he would picture you instead of a simple answer. A connection to books, stories, and knowledge. The person responsible for decorating the shop’s window.

He found a particular interest in you, one of the shop’s employees. It started the first day you greeted him with your friendly smile and had yet to be stored away.

“Connor, hi.” Stepping around a table display, you waved to him while balancing three volumes in your other hand.

“Hello (Y/N).” He smiled, feeling something akin to happiness.

“How are you?”

Opening his mouth, ready to respond, Connor said nothing.

What was a truthful answer?

Connor sure wanted to know.

I am functioning properly, Connor thought. I’m not feeling any negative emotions. But they don’t want to hear that.

“I’m well.” He answered. “Thank you for asking.”

“No problem. I’m glad you’re well.”

At your smile, Connor took notice of his thirium pump increasing its speed. Something he was trying to look into over the past few weeks.

“How are you? Do you need help with anything?”

You laughed lightly and shook your head. “I’m pretty good.” Stepping over to the main counter, you added, “I can handle a few books. Just double checking these are in shelves too. Someone’s doing a pickup later. But thank you for asking. Again.” You sent him a teasing smile.

“Oh.” Connor stood still beside the counter, eyes downcast.

Embarrassment, he knew that emotion. Connor knew how it felt and it wasn’t his favorite. Feeling it while around you made him want to reset his system.

Do I ask to help them every time I’m here? Connor thought back to previous encounters and his embarrassment grew. I’m being polite. He urged himself to be more neutral with the fact of him wanting to help you.

Why wouldn’t he want to help you?

You were kind, had a good work ethic, and you made time to talk with him.

Connor appreciated you.

He appreciated other too, but he didn’t find himself trying to consistently learn their interests. That happened when he was with you, asking you handfuls of questions.

The more Connor learned about you, the more he could talk to you. Information one could not find online or in databases. Time one could not simulate.

“So what brings you here today, mister questions?” You inquired as you walked around the counter. Pulling out a tote bag, you placed the books inside one by one.

The corners of Connor’s lips lifted. A jolt of something registered through him. Not physical. An emotion that made him want to remain standing in your presence and perhaps hear you give him another nickname.

“I was wondering…”

You hummed shortly, letting him know you were listening.

“If there was a book you think I should read.”

Your eyes lit up in joyous surprise. “A million times yes.” You rushed out from around the counter and headed between a row of bookshelves.

Connor followed after you without hesitation.

“I don’t think I can just pick one,” you stated with two books in hand already. “So you have some options.”

“That’s great. Thank you.”

You sent him a smile over your shoulder. Then you resumed scanning the shelves, not wanting to miss a book you had in mind for him.

Knowing you already had options for him made Connor smile endlessly.

You thought of him.

They’re thorough. Connor thought as he got lost in watching you search.

Connor had never been around someone who he felt such a variety of emotions for. Deviancy hadn’t lasted long enough for him to name them all.

How could he?

The situation and environments he found himself in was calm and new. Full of books, unique displays, and people going about their business. Seeing you had become a constant. Something he could count on even if each time would be different, lively.

Connor did not have anything in his past to compare his present to.

If I had more context, he thought, I could figure out what I should be doing. I like their company. I know that, but big deal. That doesn’t tell me what to do about besides visiting them twice a week. But…I do like being with them.

Slightly frustrated with himself, he made sure to keep it to himself.

So, Connor remained standing, keeping you company during your shift, and making you laugh. Soon three books purchased and all his own.

What would come from him having feelings for you?

Connor hoped he would find out in his new way in life.

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Detroit Become Human Tags: @shewhobreathesfire @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

#dbh connor x reader #connor x reader #dbh connor #dbh fanfiction #dbh rk800 #rk800 x reader #requested #where dreamers go #detroit become human

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howlett-dekarios · 4 months ago

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𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝�� 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢

▏Hugh Jackman x Reader

▏Summary: You didn't handle breakup with your boyfriend well, and Hugh ended up picking you up from the club in the middle of the night.

▏Word count: 3,8k

▏A/n: Scenario of him despite it being fucking 3 am, picking you up while you're shit-faced drunk and him taking care of you? It's just too much to handle. I used the "abcdefu" fragment and also obv inspired the title on one of Fergie's songs.

You’re the fans favorite. Even though you are one of the most recognizable actress in the whole industry and still young, you’re also down-to-earth woman. Not hiding from the world or doing anything special to look better, coexisting with fans, which was the reason of many arguments with your manager. But that was the promise you made to yourself when starting it all; being true to yourself, modest and just polite to the world which gave you a chance. Enjoying every day without acting like you’re anyone special. Because in your opinion, you really weren’t. Of course there was no doubting your pure talent and hard work you put into your development but still, a horrendous part of your successful career was just a pure luck. Right place, people and time.

One of these people was sitting beside you, laughing his ass off because of the joke you’ve just made. You knew Hugh for a few years now, almost instantly clicking the first day on set of one of the x-men movies. You just understood each other, having similar characters and valuing the same things in life despite the age difference. That’s way your energy on screen was probably such an impregnable thing, natural chemistry of two friends off the set pass on the final products.

“Y/n our source gave as an info about you breaking up with your long term partner, is it true?”

How the fuck did they know it? You couldn’t tell. It was still fresh and honestly you wouldn’t have been surprised if that ‘source’ would be your ex himself, wanting to put you in a bad light. Make you embarrass yourself in public eyes. The look Hugh was giving you wasn’t making it any easier, since you haven’t told him yet. His eyes full of worry and damn knowing him, he really would like to talk with you outside of the cameras before you’d answer this question.

“Well, yes, unfortunately we separate our ways.” You forced yourself to smile “But it was a mutual agreement. We decided that it wasn’t working for us anymore. Wish him all the best, though.”

Best your ass. He was a controlling freak who was so scared of you cheating on him with one of your co-stars that he ended up having some lady sucking his dick himself. It all started months ago, arguments about what you can and cannot do, his family pressuring you to help them out, saying how you will never be enough for their saint and lovely boy. His tantrums about you spending too much time on sets, or how you’ve been wearing too revealing clothes on premiers or other events. For the last months you’ve been feeling like a prisoner, used only for money. Which was only worse considering your public image of strong and independent woman, a feminist who would never allow that to happen. You felt ashamed of yourself for it, for how you’d been okay with him treating you like a complete trash.

Hugh knew about it all. He has been giving you advices, being your arm to cry on after another fight in the middle of the night, suggesting a break up long before that asshole cheated. But of course, you’ve been to blind to do anything. Blindfolded by love and old memories when he had been a good guy.

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Interviewer smiled apologetically, but you knew better than that to know hoe pleased he was with all of it. Having a hot take to treat media with. “Well, I’m sure a lot of guys gonna stand in line offering his hearts to you.” You really did not need that now. You have enough of ‘fans’ both men and women posting nasty comments online. “Thank you guys for your time and wish you further successes.”

“Thank you very much.” A forced smile once again appeared on your face and Hugh did the same.

After all the cameras went off and you were on your way out, Hugh stopped you, feeling of his big palm on your arm too familiar to mistake it for anyone else.

“You okay? Why haven’t you told me?” His eyes full of concern. He isn’t mad about you not telling him, rather about that he found out this way.

“It’s just.. it’s still getting to me, okay? I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. He was a dick who didn’t deserve to breath the same air as you.” But Hugh also was quite aware of how deeply you loved that asshole. If that was up to him, he would’ve knocked the shit out of him long time ago but just for your sake he stayed silent. “You’re sure you’re fine? Want to talk about it?” It was the least he could think of right now. Knowing your character and how young and unpredictable you were.. well it was the best for everyone if you won’t be left alone for a while.

“No, no, it’s okay. As you said he was jerk anyway. I’m completely fine, no need to worry, Hugh.” You smiled, no really sure who are you trying to convince now.

“Okay, just.. call me if you need anything. And I mean anything, Y/n, you get it?” If you gonna do something stupid, he’ll rather like to know what.

“Thanks, but everything’s fine. I got it.”

He has been reading at his place when Ryan texted him. Nothing unusual especially considering how the last adjustment to the schedule of shots to new Deadpool were made. But the time got him curious.

‘You should check it out.’ And two twitter links below.

One took him on your ex’s profile where this scumbag posted some teary statement. Rearranging whole narration of your relationship, how he was the hurt one, how you aren’t the person you’re showing to public and many, many more words that were just bunch of lies. At this point he was fucking sure that this scumback was the one who spread the information about your breakup to the media.

Not good.

But the latter one.. it was even worse.

Video of you in the club, dancing and drinking with random people. Your pupils were enlarged, forehead sweaty and your voice a bit more rough than usual, which gave him enough insight to know that you are very drunk.

It was like jumping in a rabbit hole. After one post, there was another, and another. All from the same club and all very recent. Fans being overjoyed how you were taking photos and socializing with them. Drinking shots and paying round after round on you. You dancing and singing at the top of your lungs in a top that showed almost everything that was to show and pants that were put low enough, displaying straps of your thongs. Of course in the comments people were sharing the exact address of club where the party was hosted, saying how you confidently agreed to stay until closing time.

“Shit.” He sighed. Not a chance. He checked the hour and there is no way of you staying there any minute longer. “Fuck, no.” His fingers deepen in his hair, gripping them tightly.

Thank god that he hasn’t had any drink tonight.

‘I’m on it.’ A quick text to Ryan, as a way of thanking his friend for his effort.

When he got there, the music was rumbling even outside of the club.

“I’m too old for this shit..”

At first crowd of people standing in line tried to protest, but as soon as they’ve realized who is it, the flashes of their phones were on his face. Fortunately enough for you the bouncers didn’t let paparazzi in, probably due to the club policy. Some guard at the entrance stopped him, but having a recognizable face had its advantages and now Hugh wasn’t in any position to not use them now.

As soon as he entered the lights and heat hit him. The place crumped to the brim, drunk people trying to ask for autographs or photos.

“Not now, guys, please back off.” He really tried to be polite but after a minute he realized there is no point. When another guy pushed a camera into his face, he got enough. “Not now!”

Pushing through the crowd wasn’t an easy task, but he had to do so, knowing you are having your time on the stage. The Dj at that point was your personal service, playing whatever you asked for. All fans with their hands up and phones out recording the footage that’ll be definitely a one big headache foe your agent.

“Come on, guys! A-B-C-D-E, F-U! And your mom! And your sister! And your job! And your broke-ass car! And that shit you call art! Fuck you and your friends that I'll never see again! Everybody but your dog, you can all fuck off!” You yelled out, cheered by crowd, zeroing your drink that you honestly couldn’t remember the amount of you already had tonight. “Love you all! Fuck him!” Your drunk laugh was probably one of the most disappointing things Hugh has heard in his life.

He finally got in front of the crowd, when you’ve been dancing like your life depended on it to one of Ariana Grande’s song. And then when he was just a step ahead of you, you finally realized who it was.

“Hugh?!” You sounded surprised but not disappointed at all.

The next thing you did though.. it caught him off guard. How you tried to close your face together and only because of his reflex he had stopped you in the process, holding your wrist tightly. If this happened.. it would’ve ended up as a disaster. A true nail in your coffin considering how many people were recording the whole situation.

“Party’s over, Y/n. I’m getting you out of here.” His tone stern.

“What?! No! I’m just starting!”

“You are not. It’s the opposite, you’re finished, princess.” His arm tried to pull you off the stage but instead he was the one brought up it which was met with cheers and screams. Just freaking perfect. For a girl who probably couldn’t walk straight you were damn strong. Or maybe it was just him not wanting to hurt you by using full strength.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Hugh Jackman is joining the party!” A forced smile appeared on his lips, not wanting to give away how this all was out of control.

“Thank you for tonight, but unfortunately the party is over! We need to go but it was lovely to meet you all!” A quick damage control when he dragged you down and to the exit in accompaniment of flashes and yells.

“I didn’t finish my drink!” you tried to tell him but he had none of it, his grip on your wrist still tight.

“You had more than enough, Y/n.” In attempt to shield you from all the paparazzi outside, he covered you with his body, walking you like this until you both reached his car. “Get in.”

The drive was rather silent, him focusing on getting you to his place safely while you’ve been trying to stop your head from spinning so much.

“I can go back by myself..” When you got no reaction out of him, you continued. “My place is the other way..”

He sighed, knowing that arguing with you when you're like this is pointless.

“I'm not taking you to yours. You're coming to mine where I can keep an eye on you and ensure you're safe."

Once you two arrived, him helping you out of car, ensuring you won’t stumble over. Steadying you, hand on your waist while gently making you sit on the couch. The way your head fall backwards and your eyes are squeezed tightly, he could tell you probably gonna puke. It was a miracle you haven’t done it in car.

"Are you feeling nauseous at all?" He asked, concern evident in his voice.

But the sound you were making were enough answer. How you tried hard not to do it there.

“I-“

Seeing the signs, Hugh quickly hand you a nearby trashcan, gently guiding it towards your face.

"Go ahead, let it out. You’ll feel better afterward."

He rub your back soothingly, trying to comfort you as you deal with the unpleasant sensation.

“I don’t want to..” But the alco in your stomach is trying to get out more frequently. You won’t be able to hold it longer, no matter how hard you’d have tried to.

“Princess, you have to let it out. Holding it in will only make the nausea worse. It's okay, just let your body do what it needs to do."

And with that you started to puke your guts out, one oh his hands holding your hair, the other gently soothing over you back, trying to give you any comfort and reassurance that it’s alright. Tears rolled down your cheeks, your mascara all over your eyes now.

Once you finish puking, he offered you some water and a tissue to wipe your face.

"Feeling any better? Take your time."

Instead of answering you lay your head on the back of the couch, crying in embarrassment, trying to catch your breath, all events of the night slowly forcing themselves through your cloudy mind.

Your tears streaming down your face made his heart clench, all anger gone by this point. He gently place a hand on your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"It's okay, princess. Let it out. Cry if you need to. You're safe here and I'm not going anywhere."

He grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around you, trying to provide a sense of warmth and security.

“It’s so embarrassing. I’m so pathetic. I’m sorry.” You stammered out.

He shook his head, voice gentle but firm. "No. It’s not embarrassing, and you’re not pathetic. You made a mistake tonight, yes, but that doesn’t define you. We all make mistakes, it’s part of being human. What matters is that you learn from it and take care of yourself. You should’ve called me but you’re not alone anymore, okay? I’m here for you, and I’ll support you through this.”

“My head is spinning..” You close your eyes again, trying to focus but without much success. “I’m sorry, Hugh.. I shouldn’t have made you do this for me, shouldn’t have to be your problem.” You recall all the night, or bunch of information that stayed in your mind and you started sobbing even more. “Fuck, so many people had seen me..” it’s clear for him how you’ve started to overthink everything. A light panic attack is on the way from your organism being overwhelmed.

“It’s nothing we can’t deal with later, princess. Now I need you to calm down and breath, in and out, alright?”

He didn’t leave your side even for a second, you swinging back and forth in attempt to get in control again. After you sobered a bit and calmed, your breath steady you tried to talk with him again.

“Sorry for the bother, Hugh.. I’ll pay you back for gas..”

“I don’t fucking care about the gas.” He couldn’t believe that it was your biggest concern now. He gave your shoulder another gentle squeeze, hoping to reassure you. "Just focus on resting and recovering. We’ll talk more in the morning when you’re feeling better, alright?" He stood up, offering his hand to help you up. "Come on, let’s get you into bed so you can sleep this off."

“W-what? No. I-I should get home, I can call a cab..”

“There is no way I’m letting you walk out of here tonight, let’s make it clear.” The paparazzi had enough of content for one night. “You’re not in any condition to go anywhere right now. You’re tipsy and you need rest. Let me take care of you for tonight, alright? I have a guest room where you can sleep and recover. In the morning, we’ll see how you’re feeling and figure out the next steps."

“Hugh..” The shame which build up inside of you showing up. Especially remembering what you’ve almost done. Kissing him would’ve not only effecting you, but probably ended u being a big mark on his career too.. fuck you were so freaking dumb.. “Why are you even helping me?” Yes, sure he was your long time friend, but picking you completely shit faced from club in the middle of night, getting caught on many records… you definitely weren’t worth the price he’ll pay for it later. “What have I done to deserve it?” His kindness and care..

Considering all what happened it made him chuckle softly, touched by your question.

“You don’t need to do anything to deserve a friend like me, N/n. That’s not how true friendship works. I’m here for you because I care about you and want to help you, plain and simple. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, right now you need someone to care for you, and I’m honored to be that person." He gave you a gentle smile, hoping to lift your spirits. “Now, come on. Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

“I’m serious Hugh.” Your voice most sober now than the full night. “Why me?”

"You have so many qualities that make you a wonderful person. You’re talented, passionate, and kind. You have a great sense of humor and you always know how to make things fun. But most importantly, you’re loyal and genuine, and those are qualities that I greatly cherish in a friend." He paused, studying your expression. "And that’s why I’m here for you now, Y/n. Because I know that you’d be here for me too, if the situation was reversed."

But deep down he knew it wasn’t the full truth. The feelings he had towards you.. obviously he was worried when he found out about your breakup, but some part of him was happy about it. As selfish as he could sound, it gave him a chance. Chance that he has been waiting for so long now. Maybe if you weren’t drunk and fans weren’t recording everything that happened.. he would be more than okay with what you’ve tried to do in the club.

“I won’t change your mind on me staying the night?”

Hugh only chuckled on that, shaking his head. He lead you to the guest room and after giving you one of his shirts and making sure you had everything you needed, he left to finally have some sleep himself.

The next morning you woke up before him. As a form of apology you’ve prepared him a breakfast and fresh coffee, just so he could go through the day after lack of sleep you were responsible for.

"Morning." His voice still groggy but a smile formed on his face, showing the wrinkles that so many fans were crazy for. "You didn’t have to do this, you know."

“Yeah, I wanted to make it up for you.”

He took a seat at the kitchen table, watching you finish up the eggs. "Well, it’s certainly appreciated. Thank you,". A quick study you for a moment, noticing the dark circles under your eyes and the lingering signs of the previous night. "How’re you feeling this morning?"

“Like shit.” You didn’t see a point of lying to him since he had seen you in worse condition. “Been throwing up all night, honestly I’m surprised my guts are still in tact.” A deep sigh left you, while serving the food. “But other than that I’m fine. Bit hangover.” A glass of water and a package of paracetamol being a clear evidence of it. “Gonna be out of you head soon. Used enough of your hospitality.”

“Don’t say that-“

“Seen the posts of my party and you dragging me outside went viral all over the internet.” You bit your lip, knowing how you’ll have to fall on your knees in attempt to apologize to your manger. Since he hasn’t called you yet, you assumed that before going to bed, Hugh made a few calls here and there.. another thing to be thankful for.

“You’re young, Y/n. You’re allowed to make mistakes-“

“Yes, but not everyone’s fuckups are getting caught by paparazzi.”

“Called Derek.” Here it comes. “He will try to get rid off most of the footage.”

“You know better than me that things like this just don’t magically vanish.”

“People gonna get bored. Follow the next big affair and forget about it in a week.”

You only nodded, not being in any position nor feeling like arguing with the man who literally saved you ass last night.

“As soon as I will do the laundry I’m gonna give it back to you.” Your gaze dropped to the too big tshirt you’re wearing.

“Don’t worry, you can keep it.”

The silence echoed the room, him eating the only sound around. You knew hot you have to apologize for one more thing.

“Listen, Hugh, there is no explanation for what I’ve tried to do, it was inappropriate and-“

“I don’t mind it either.”

What.

“What?”

“I said, I don’t mind.” He looked up from his plate, looking in your eyes.

“But I-“

“Yes, I know what almost happened. Believe me, if we were alone and you weren’t intoxicated.. let’s say, it could’ve ended up other way.” It made you stunned, eyes wide open, your brain not sure if it’s still some drunk daydreaming or the reality. “When you’ve said you two broke up.. I admit I wasn’t as concerned as a good friend should’ve been.”

“I-I don’t think I’m following..”

A low laugh got to your ears and the next thing you knew he was standing next to you, his big posture towering compared to your small body.

“Okay, what if I told you I don’t want to be just friends? That I never wanted? That every time I’ve seen you miserable around him I had to stop myself form kicking his balls and stealing you so his nasty hand couldn’t reach you ever again?”

“Hugh I-“

“And what if I want to finish what you started last night?” His finger cupped your jaw, leaving your lips a bit open. Shit, you looked so fucking good like this. In his clothes, in his home, in his hands. “Would you like that?”

“Fuck, please, yes.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Your lips met in a desperate kiss that was postponed too long for his liking. When you two finally get apart he smirked teasingly. “Knew it would be perfect. No screen kiss ever compares to a real one. So.. Date? Tonight?”

“I-I should talk with Derek..”

“I’ll handle him. Besides we got rid off one issue.. In the end I’m allowed to pick up my girl from the club, ain’t I?”

#hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlet x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett #deadpool and wolverine

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saritapaleo · 8 months ago

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Archovember 2024 Day 3 - Gorgosaurus libratus

The apex predator of Western North America during the Late Cretaceous was Gorgosaurus libratus. Found so far in Alberta, Canada and Montana, USA, it lived several million years before Tyrannosaurus rex would appear. While it was a tyrannosaurid, it was more closely related to Albertosaurus, so much so that some scientists consider it to be another species of Albertosaurus. Gorgosaurus is the most numerous tyrannosaurid in the fossil record, known from dozens of specimens. This abundance of fossils has allowed paleontologists to investigate Gorgosaurus’ ontogeny, life history and many other aspects of its biology. For example, in 2023, a 5-7 year old juvenile Gorgosaurus was discovered with stomach contents consisting of two intact Citipes juveniles about a year old. This showed that younger Gorgosaurus’ were mostly eating prey much smaller than them, and were probably not hunting in packs, as the meal would not have been large enough to share. That being said, only the remains of the hindlimbs and caudal vertebrae of the juvenile Citipes were present, suggesting that this Gorgosaurus may have had a preference for the muscular hindlimbs. Many Gorgosaurus specimens also preserve evidence of facial scars, a result of intraspecies facebiting.

Gorgosaurus would have lived on the coastal plain along the western edge of the Western Interior Seaway, an inland sea which divided North America in half during the Late Cretaceous. The area was subtropical with periods of drought. Conifers would have dominated the forests, while the underbrush consisted of ferns, tree ferns and angiosperms. Gorgosaurus is best known from the Dinosaur Park Formation. Here, it would have lived alongside another apex predator: Daspletosaurus wilsoni. While these tyrannosaurids were roughly the same size, they may have preferred different types of prey, allowing them to coexist without too much competition. And there was a wide diversity of prey here, from many of the most famous ornithopods like Parasaurolophus walkeri, Corythosaurus casuarius, Gryposaurus notabilis, and Lambeosaurus lambei, to beloved ceratopsians like Styracosaurus albertensis, Centrosaurus apertus, Chasmosaurus belli, Spinops sternbergorum, and Vagaceratops irvinensis. There were also ankylosaurs like Anodontosaurus inceptus, Dyoplosaurus acutosquameus, Edmontonia rugosidens, Euoplocephalus tutus, Panoplosaurus mirus, Platypelta coombsi, and Scolosaurus. Pachycephalosaurids included Foraminacephale and Stegoceras validum. Gorgosaurus also shared space with other, smaller theropods, like the ornithomimids Ornithomimus and Rativates, caenagnathids like Caenagnathus, Chirostenotes, and Citipes, dromaeosaurids like Dromaeosaurus and Saurornitholestes, and troodontids like Latenivenatrix and Stenonychosaurus. Dinosaurs were not the only animals here, and Gorgosaurus would have also had to share space with the giant azhdarchid pterosaur Cryodrakon, as well as alligatoroids like Albertochampsa and Leidyosuchus, and choristoderes like Champsosaurus. Gorgosaurus is also known from the Two Medicine Formation and Judith River Formation.

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timkontheunsure · 5 months ago

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Ozzie's not perfect but that so good 😊

Intersectionality of classism, racism and ableism

Ozzie's a pretty lovable carebear of a sin, it's honestly great seeing the nuisance this guy gets in the writing. I love seeing a nice bloke who is a little bit classist, racist and ableist; because these are traits anyone can have.

Like how Stolas' and Millie's are there for character development, so is Ozzie's. 🙂

And none of these things feel like they'll be unsormaounable for Fizz and Ozzie.

Classism

Alot of foke have asked if Fizz gets to be mad that Ozzie didn't try very hard to save his best friend. And well yer he probably will be mad in s3.

He begged his partner to keep his best friend safe, he gets to be mad. Doesn't matter if Ozzie thought he had a good reason to not do so, like keep his head down to try to keep Fizz safe; Fizz can be mad for not being listened to.

But that's not the only thing Ozzie got coming due, and means we'll get some really interesting stuff.

Ok you know how Stolas is only just started to understand how his being born in a position of privilege has affected his and Blitz's relationship? And that alot of the things he did wrong weren't out malice, but from unthinking ignorant?

Well Fizz & Ozzie's power dinamic is worse, because he's 1 of the 7 actually responsible for settling up a lot of that cast system...

And while Stolas got a bit of a mixed bag with his privilege. Never having to think about money, and given housing for himself and his kid. But also getting almost no choice in his life, and being forced into an abusive marriage.

Ozzie by contrast has it all good. His big day to day headaches being his own safety record on vibes. And his own reputation making him want to try to keep a loving relationship on the down low. (His own fault).

His bacis maybe unthinking, but he's not actually ignorant of the way hell works for imps.

They've been dealing the extremely class divided by pretending it doesn't exist; leaving any fallout for Fizz to deal with alone.

Like how till recently him and Fizz were in the closet. Something Ozzie felt so uncomfortable about, he outed another royal/imp couple to shove under the bus to help them hide better. His wanting them safe isn't from a bad place, but his actions aren't clean.

Fizz was happy attacking Blitz, someone he believes hurt him out of spite. But Ozzie's the one who physically drags Stolas in, mocks him for slumming with an imp, then take the piss for lossing his wife and kid.

It really isn't a compliment when someone says "You sold your life for a thrust" and to "Pretend you don't see that crust", and equates their downfall to dating an imp. That's mockery.

I'm glad Blitz got to push back a little with when it's proven Fizzmodeus have a romantic relationship. Cus yep they are massive fucking hypocrites.

Even with harassing Moxxie for singing a love song to Millie, it's not Ozzie that takes the heat. It's Fizz.

Ozzie's need to hid them, is directly the reason to tell Moxxie off for the love song, because he's pretending love and lust can't coexist. And Millie wouldn't bonk Fizz over the head he'd if they didn't interrupt her husbands song.

The need to hid, to keep Ozzie's reputation; stops Oz from being aloud to be visibly too pissed at M&M.

Ok that the lightest fallout that Fizz takes from them not dealing with the power imbalance. But cus of staying closeted Fizz gets kidnapped, and nearly killed to keep 'their' secret.

Then attacked by stalkers cus Ozzie can't be seen caring about him;

(Making every other year of the clown pageant something Fizz must face solo).

All for Ozzie to out them both without checking Fizz ok with it first. Stopping Mammon blackmailing him, like Crim did.

So a good action, but it's acting unilaterally for both sides of the couple without any planning ahead. (Ozzie's is the biggest himmo).

Telling everyone he loves Fizz comes from a good place, but it's stepping on a boundary without checking it. When any possible backlash will likely to fall again on Fizz, not Ozzie.

But it's not the only boundary of Fizz's Ozzie's over stepping for a while.

Racism

Ozzie a pretty risk adverse guy, but also doesn't have a cool head in crisis.

This makes him less likely to stand up for what's right, untill he's backed into a corner. (Making some of the stuff he'll do to get out of a bad situation abit of a shit show).

Ozzie's of a both chicken, and also a little bit of a cock lol. (Viv did well with making him a cockerel).

He doesn't yet want to stick his neck out for people he really should be. But is happy to tag in when Bee says Blitz is a good guy. Even though he owns Blitz for saving Fizz twice, and Stolas stopping him himmboing into getting Fizz killed.

In comparison Bee and Tex's relationship isn't a secret. All the Sins know, and basically every hellhound knows. Both their communities know they are in a stable loving relationship.

She stands up for her man to Mammon. And even non verbally tells Ozzie to back off, that it's her fight.

She doesn't need it to be a life or death situation to tell people to feck off if they don't like it.

Bee is willing to give Blitz a chance, and speaks up for him first. Ozzie's more of a tagalog. He does speak up for Blitz, a guy he has much more reason to want to help; but only after Bee.

And then doesn't do more even though IMP are legally under his jurisdiction. And his partner begs him to. (There's a good chance Ozzie could have told Satan to back off, and it'd have worked. But Ozzie isn't a planner in a fast situation).

Even though he knows that Blitz will die at the hands of a corrupt racist political system without someone stepping in.

Ozzie even has the neve to look a bit put out when Blitz calls him and the other Sins on their shit. "All I was trying to do was raise above this stupid fucking place YOU ALL FORCED US INTO!"

Doesn't Blitz know he's one of the 'good ones'?

But Oz is just not a strong person yet, and honestly think this might be something he eventually gels with Stolas over. Learning to be less passive.

But with them out Ozzie is able to tell Ma to do one for being rude about Fizz. Yay! 😁 He's becoming more free in what he can do. Love that characters development.

Ableism

And while taking about Stolas we can highlight the last character flaw Ozzie has, that's not immediate obviously.

Ok I actually think making the loving, and supportive partner to the physical disabled guy just a bit ableist too is A+ writing. 🙂

Ozzie has a pretty big problem with Stolas. (I'm going to need a thesaurus for all the ways Ozzie is a mardy over Stolas being autistic).

He gets arsy when Stolas doesn't take the chair he draw out.

Gets pissed when he's get a real answer to if he's "Still gettin' yo' kink on with that feisty imp?" Not treated as the verbal wallpaper it was. And treating Blitz like all he can be is a race kink.

Assumes the worse intentions of Stolas by suggested he's after date rape drugs. (Going chalk this up as ableist thing too, as assuming the worst in autistic people cus they're weird is really common).

Is creped out by Stolas stimming, and angry at Stolas being excited to help with his special interest.

Is annoyed that Stolas stops him signing a contract to have Fizz decapitated. (Ozzie's just really isn't a planner. No wonder Fizz does all that for him day to day. 🙂 They work well together).

Then sets Stolas on fire for making him a speedy viable contract, because the lawyer is slow.

And after Fizz is safe and sound at home, Ozzie complains that he got stuck all day with Stolas, and bragged how refused to help Blitz... (He's being unthinkingly ungrateful here, because he's used to getting things as he's top of the heap).

Some neurotypicallys really do just hate you on sight for missing social cues, and Ozzie is being that guy.

He can't even hide how much he dislikes Stolas while Stolas busy doing the thing Fizz asked him to do.

(Ozzie, you contempt is showing again bud).

This is all ableism, because the underlying message 'Why don't you just get it, and read my mind for me?! Why do I have to make allowances for your disability, and communicate what I want clearly. It's your fault I'm mildly inconvenients'.

Ok getting back to Fizz, because how he treats Stolas, leads into his attitude around Fizz's care.

Ozzie does a common mistake that all carers will do at somepoint. He reduces the ability of the disabled person to be autonomous. And he does this primarily for safety; but it's also out of a paternalistic view that he knows best.

(He's older, has more experience, more powerful; surely he can't get this wrong right?)

When Fizz has a knock to his confidence about being out and about by himself, Fizz is being hyperbolic about hating going outside. And Ozzie over corrects tells him he never had to do that again.

And Fizz's face drops.

It's infantilizing him, by removing some of his choices. He does this again when he goes behind Fizz's back to ask Blitz to bodyguard him.

Things can be done for a place of love, and still be removing someone's autonomy. Yes without Blitz there Fizz wouldn't have had the strength to tell Mammon to fuck off, but things can be both good and bad.

(Honestly I could probably have written 'things can be both good and bad' with pics of Ozzie doing shit, and call it a day 4 drafts ago)....

This has happened with me and every disabled person I know. Fizz needs to talk with Ozzie and redraw boundaries. They'll have to do this after each situation comes up.

Like Ozzie really wasn't happy with Fizz going out alone at the start of Opps. But they compromised on having his phone on him, and a driver giving him a lift.

With Fizz no longer working for Mammon, and their relationship being public, arguably there's less immediate danger now.

But it's the intersectionality that's making it hard for Fizz to start that conversation. He's not just a imp dating a royal, he's a disabled imp who's prosthetics are gifted and maintained by Oz, dating a Sin who was instrumental in putting his whole race near the bottom of the ladder....

Fizz is likely going to need Blitz and Stolas' input to feel comfortable redrawing those tightening boundaries.

It's the reason he feels like he does have to apologise for getting hurt and kidnapped.

(Ozzie did great reminding Fizz he doesn't have to apologise here).

Alright cards on the table when I've had to tell my SO/carer to back off, it's always started by talking to a friend outside our dinamic. And that healthy. You get a different view, your able to sanity check what you want Vs what practical. And it gives you backup.

Making a conversation more likely to be constructive not destructive.

Because this is only insurmountable if they don't try and climb it together.

#I love Ozzie but think he's got some work to do. Same as the rest of the cast #Helluva boss #fizzmodeus #Characters as shades of grey in helluva and it one of the things I love #fizzarolli #Character analysis into character arc theory

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cod-dump · 2 years ago

Note

Has teen Gaz or Price ever walked in on Teen Simon and Teen Soap making out or just kissing when they finally get together?

Holding Your Hand (teen!Ghost au)

———

Three months. It had been three months since Johnny confessed to Simon and Simon stuttered out returning affections. The mall parking lot wasn’t the ideal place for such a thing, but Johnny couldn’t hold it back anymore.

They were together, but no one has exactly been able to actually notice. They were so nervous, barely able to hold hands. Sitting close enough that their shoulders touched was as much as either could manage. It was cute but also sad. Kyle expected more from them, at least more eagerness to hold hands.

Alejandro was there when they confessed. He was in his car, waiting for Simon to get in when it happened. His father’s stolen cigarette fell from his lips in shock before he called Rudy. Simon had to deal with Alejandro for those three months. His near insufferable best friend who wanted to know every detail that has happened between him and Johnny.

“You two are driving me crazy! You think Val and I waited that long to-“

“I’m not a whore like you!”

Alejandro cackled before he pressed his body against Simon’s side, “Si! C’mon, man! You’re Los Vaqueros! Not a little, shy church boy!”

Simon refused to look at him, muttering, “I think I would burst into flames if I stepped foot into a church…”

“Exactly! Show your new man how much you’ve been wanting him! Get it on!”

Simon snorts as Alejandro shimmies a weird dance. One of the Los Vaqueros, Peter, ran up and said something about Rudy before running back off. Alejandro smacks Simon’s shoulder before running after him.

“Rudy’s here!”

Simon watches Alejandro dart out of the garage, mind immediately going back to Johnny as soon as his friend disappeared from sight. He hung out with his friends before heading back home. If it got too dark Nik would probably come grab him and take him home and his friends had just finally stopped teasing him about last time it happened.

When he made it back home, he chose to go through the kitchen side door rather than the front. Kyle liked hanging in the living room around this time and Simon wasn’t prepared with the possibility of coming in and seeing Johnny. Seeing him without a warning, a heads up, might be a bit much. He felt like since the confession he’s been drowning, confused. He hasn’t had a romantic relationship before. Hell, his only genuine friend was Alejandro. The Los Vaqueros were his friends, they were inclined to be friendly with him.

Nik was in the kitchen, drinking coffee like the madman he was, focused on his phone. He didn’t even look when the door opened, just took a calm sip of his coffee before he sighed.

“Kyle’s friend is here.”

Simon tensed and Nik just looked at him with an all-knowing look. Wordlessly, he points at the chair next to him, and Simon sat without a comment. He couldn’t help but glance towards the hall, knowing Johnny was in the house, probably expecting to see him at some point.

“You don’t look like the kid that had his affections returned by the boy of his dreams.”

Simon jerks and turns to Nik, “What does that mean!?”

“It means you look lost. Kind of scared.”

Simon blinks, eyes drifting away from Nik as he thought about what he said, “Scared?”

“I know English well enough to know that is the correct word, no?”

“Debatable.”

Nik glares with an amused smirk as Simon snickers. He takes another swig of his coffee before he puts the mug aside and leans over the table. Simon tries to avoid looking at him, sensing a conversation waiting that he didn’t want to have.

“Si.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You’re not? This is new territory for you. You sure you’re not a little bit scared?”

“I feel like this is something Dad should be talking to me about.”

Nik grins, “Oh, your father and his emotions are as in sync as a cat and dog. Sometimes they understand each other but they mostly coexist.”

Simon groans and lays his head on the cool table. He hated it when Nik was right, which was surprisingly often. The man was smart, crazy but smart. He was more capable of talking about this than his father. Simon sits up, taking a breath before he looks at Nik.

“I feel like I’m not doing things right.”

“Oh? Talk about it, tell me what’s going on in your head.”

“Everyone is just… they seem to know what to do. You get with your crush, you take them on dates, hold their hand, kiss them— I’m not doing any of that! I feel like things are the same, like he didn’t confess to me! Like we’re still dancing around each other!”

Nik hums, thinking as Simon breathes for a moment before continuing, “Ale and Peter and June— All the Los Vaqueros keep asking if I’ve kissed him yet. What dates we’ve gone on, if we-… If we’ve done anything… God, I can barely hold his hand and I’m supposed to do all these other things!”

“Kid, you need to breathe and relax. There is nothing wrong with taking your time with him, going your own pace. Everyone has their own speed.”

“What if Johnny’s speed is different than mine?”

“Well, then you’ll have to talk to him and figure that out. No one can read minds.”

Simon blinks before nodding, Nik reaching over and rubbing his shoulder, “Talk to him, be honest. Things will work out.”

“Thanks, Nik.”

“Of course. Now, go on. Tell Kyle to come in here, I need to talk to him about something.

Simon nods and gets up, grabbing his bag and walking into the hallway. He stopped by the stairs to compose himself, feeling nervous. He takes a deep breath in before straightening his back and letting it out. Then he continued on, refusing to falter when he heard Kyle and Johnny talking. He threw his bag by the threshold to the living room, even though his father told him to stop that since he left a hole in the wall, before walking in. Simon stops when he sees Kyle stretched on the floor, rambling as Johnny laid across the couch listening. They both turned and looked at him and Simon almost lost his confidence.

“Hey, Mr. Warrior Cat,” that earned him a glare, “Nik wants to talk.”

Kyle rolls his eyes, “Ugh, fine. If I’m not back in five minutes-“

“We’ll mourn.”

Kyle glares, Johnny laughing. Simon tried focusing on Kyle as long as possible before he eventually turned his attention to Johnny.

Why is he so handsome? God-

“Hey,” Johnny said softly, sitting up on the couch.

Simon couldn’t help but stare, his hair was getting long. The scruff on his face was showing signs of a promising beard in the future. Oh, his smile-

“Hey, just gonna stand there and stare?”

Simon flushes, clearing his throat before he walks over and sits down next to Johnny. His skin lit up when he felt Johnny’s knee brush his. The warmth pierced through his jeans, seeping into his skin in a pleasant manner. Johnny seemed to be a warm person, both metaphorically and literally.

“Kyle said you were hanging out with… what was it again?”

“Los Vaqueros. Cowboys.”

Johnny looks like he wants to laugh but chooses to just grin. God, he was bright like the sun.

“It was Ale’s idea. He loves old westerns and the Wild West and all that.”

“Right! I figured. Cowboys aren’t really your thing.”

Simon flushes. He was so pathetic. Unable to even look at Johnny without getting flustered, unable to hold his hand without feeling like he’s going to catch fire. Simon takes another breath, calming himself before he looks at Johnny, almost losing it when their eyes met.

“I think we need to talk.”

“You think?”

“I- We do! We… I need to make sure we’re on the same page.”

Johnny hums and turns his body to face him, “Right.”

“I-I don’t want to seem like I’m delaying or holding back… Fuck,” Simon turns, now mirroring Johnny, “I can barely hold your hand. I know you were expecting something else.”

Johnny frowns, “What do you mean by that? Expecting something else? I’m expecting you.”

Simon feels his face grow redder and Johnny leans forward, “It’s cute. The-the shy thing. I don’t want to rush you into doing anything you don’t feel ready for!”

Johnny rubs his hands together, face flushing as he avoids looking at Simon, “I don’t have experience in relationships… Unless you count my sister’s because she’s dating a new guy every week! Which I won’t do- I haven’t done! Of course not! I just said I don’t have much experience! Oh you fucking idiot…”

Johnny turns away in a attempt to hide his red face. Simon felt his nervousness melt away as Johnny displays his own. It was comforting knowing he wasn’t the only one nervous about this. Not the only one worried they weren’t doing something right. Johnny continued talking, trying to fix each thing he had just said. Simon puts a hand on Johnny’s face and turns him so he’s looking at him.

He wasn’t sure what came over him but it felt right. It was a peck, nothing steamy. Simon felt Johnny’s warm lips, felt him melt against him and grab his shirt. It felt right. When they pulled apart, both flushed and speechless, Simon finally felt like he was on track, the flutter in his chest only confirming such.

Then he realized there was someone standing in the hall.

Simon slowly turned and saw his father staring at them. He had a mug in his hand and his phone in the other. It looked like he was talking with someone when he came by. Johnny stood up quickly when he saw the man, stammering away.

“Mr. Price! I- uh- was just leaving! Gotta go… go help Gran with dinner! Gotta walk the dog!”

Simon’s father blinked, “I thought you didn’t have a dog?”

Johnny had already shoved his shoes on and was by the door with his bag, “It’s a- uh- metaphor! Scottish!”

Johnny was out the door in a second, Simon could see him running across the street to his house at lightning speed. Simon blinked as his dad walked over to the door and shut it, Johnny having left so fast he didn’t even check to see if he closed it. John was too quiet, seemingly processing everything in silence.

“So… birds ‘n the bees-“

“Dad- No! Oh my god! You already put me through that!”

“That was the censored version! This is the full, educational version!”

“DAD!”

The yelling would attract Kyle and Nik to the living room. Simon blocked it all out, face on fire as he thought about Johnny. And his chest only fluttered in response, even with the embarrassment of it all.

#ghost is los vaqueros #valeria and ale used to date before him and rudy #teen!ghost au #call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #simon ghost riley #cod nikolai #alejandro vargas #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #john price #soapghost #ghostsoap #drabble #fic #ficlet #ask #thanks for the ask <3

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