#'why the fuck did you hit me ?' 'i think you'll find i KICKED you actually'

[pencildragons]

'well at least it wasn't both legs' alice dyer you are a cool amputee now i hope you know this

[pastel-peach-writes]

Hello!! I love your Korra X readers so I’m just gonna ask if you could do a Korra x Fem!reader (or GN up to you!) with the cliche plot of Reader being injured and not telling anyone until later? Hope you are doing well!!

YURR lets go. I initially wrote this as a fem!reader, but I didn't even use the reader's pronouns in this so, gender neutral reader it is!

Kiss It Better | Korra x Beifong!Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: With your girlfriend saving the world all the time, you take it as your job to not worry her with your own problems. If you needed help with something, you'd figure it out or get someone else's help. What happens when your "selflessness" nearly costs you an arm?

╰┈➤ WARNING: Injured!Reader, Suggestive Mentions, Cursing, Not Proofread, Beifong!Reader

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

It was a simple fracture. You were training with Bolin and a cluster of Earth hit you too hard in the arm. Bolin apologized and even offered to take you to the infirmary, but you rejected him.

One, you were a Beifong; you don't get hurt. Two, if you go to the infirmary, chances are you'll get a cast or some sort of sling. That'll worry your girlfriend, the Avatar, and with all the duties she had to attend to, your fractured arm was the least of her worries.

"Oh, fuck," you hissed, leaning back into your plush sofa. Typically, the plush cushions and fuzzy fabric would comfort you. The cushions would allow your muscles to relax and for your body to find comfort in the warm snuggles of your girlfriend's blanket. But now, the cushions only make your body hurt worse.

There was no support in the cushions. The plushiness was too plushy and the warm comfort typically found within the blanket was annoying.

"I'm home!" Korra announced. The woman kicked off her boots, put up her short hair, and plopped beside you on the couch.

You groaned, holding your bicep.

Korra tilted her head, raising a brow. "Hey, you okay? Was I too loud or something?"

Time slowed as you forced a laugh out of your chest. If you laughed too hard, your arm would ache. If you didn't laugh enough, Korra would assume something was wrong.

Nothing was wrong. At least, to her knowledge.

"Oh, sorry!" you smiled at her, "I was actually practicing this new joke Mako taught me. I was supposed to make this sound, but I guess I haven't mastered it yet."

"Oh... haha," Korra forced out of her. "No more taking joke suggestions from Mako. He doesn't have a funny bone in his body." The Avatar nestled her head on your chest. She hummed, snuggling into the warmth of your body.

"Right," you chewed on your lip. "I don't know what I was thinking."

-

"One, hit! Two, hit! Three--!"

"Okay!" you howled. You and Bolin have been training for three hours straight now. Something must've inspired Bolin because he's been sending over disks, boulders, and other forms of Earth toward you like there was no tomorrow. While he was losing pounds by sweating alone, your arm was screaming at you.

"Please stop moving me!" "I'm hurt!" "Why do you hate us?!"

You wished you could listen to your body. You really did. But you read somewhere that certain fractures can heal on their own with the proper rest and care.

You thought you could take it easy in training today, but obviously, Bolin had other plans.

"Oh," Bolin smiled, peeling himself away from his boxed stance. "Did I go too far? Sorry. Opal said something last night about guys working out and how she loved watching me train sometimes, so I wanted to work extra hard this practice so I wouldn't feel bad for showing off."

Your chest heaved up and down as the boy spoke. The fire in your arm was excruciating and it was spreading to your shoulders.

You trudged along the training center, going to a lousy bench where your water bottle and workout towel lay. "No, no," you told Bolin, "it's okay. I just need a break. That's all."

Lowering yourself onto the bench, your muscles and all the meat on your body felt like falling off the bone like you were a tenderly cooked piece of chicken. Your thighs ached and shook, like after an endless night with Korra. You took your towel and slung it over your good arm. You carefully opened your water bottle to take a sip.

Bolin followed after, mindlessly yapping about Opal and how pretty she was. Once he sat himself next to you and drank from his water, his eyes bulged out of his head, and water sprayed from his mouth.,

You whipped your head toward him, perplexed. "Oh, my Spirits! What was that?"

"What happened to your arm?" the boy exclaimed. He pointed at the swollen and bruised skin. Your rotator cuff was a deep purple with blue specs. He couldn't see it, but the bruising gave a pulsing sensation.

You scoffed and went for another sip of water. "Nothing. Just bumped into a pole."

"What kind of pole hit you like that?" he exclaimed again, now out of his seat. His green eyes were now filled with fear; his body trembled with worry.

You tried to shrug, but since your hurt arm was alarmingly tough and sore, only your good arm moved. "I don't know," you mumbled. "It was a while ago, I think. I can't really remember."

"Well, you have to at least let a nurse or someone qualified check you out! This looks bad, Beifong. No pole could've done this."

"Bolin," you rose to your feet. "I'm fine. Don't make me say it again." You didn't let Bolin get another word in as you gathered your things. "And Bolin, don't mention this to anyone."

-

Bolin can't keep a secret and honestly, it's your fault for telling him to keep one. You're his friend and Bolin doesn't believe in keeping his friends in danger. You need medical attention, even if you are too stubborn to admit it.

Immediately after practice, he ran to Mako who ran to Asami who told Korra.

When she first heard the news, Korra had mixed emotions. She was vexed because she didn't notice your pain and you didn't tell her, yet worried about the extremity of your injury. Could your arm fall off? What if the injury was actually worse underneath?

The Krew discussed your injury and how to intervene in your careless ways of living. There was a plan where they tricked you into going to the hospital, another where they took you out to dinner and would finesse you into spilling your guts, and then there's the plan they actually went through; the plan that made the most sense.

Korra was to go home with a smile on her face, cuddle and kiss on you for a while, and then ease into the conversation of training and injuries.

Mako thought the subtle conversation topic would force you to talk about your injury without actually forcing you.

Well, it's been two fucking hours of medical talk and Korra wasn't getting anywhere.

The two of you were cuddling on your bed, legs entangled with each other and her arms around your waist. She had her head on your good arm and from the corner of her eye, she could see the black and blue bruising that was growing to your neck.

Your pajamas acted as a pathetic way to hide it.

Korra was done playing the nice game. She had Asami in her head telling her to play the nice game and to ease into it. (She also had Mako claiming that Korra was unable to play the "nice-and-ease-into-it" game, but what Mako doesn't know won't kill him).

"Bolin told me," Korra spoke, her eyes fixated on the wall in front of you two.

You hummed, keeping your eyes closed. The ache and burn on your arm weren't as bad anymore. You also read somewhere that heat would inflame the injury more so after a quick lukewarm shower, you iced. You iced and replaced the ice for hours until Korra came home.

You were missing that ice right about now.

"Told you what?"

"That you have a disgusting bruise on your shoulder." Okay, so Bolin didn't describe it as disgusting, but what you don't know won't kill you either.

You snickered. "I ran into a pole, okay? It's not the big of a deal."

"Then why are you lying to me?" Korra pulled herself off of your chest. With delicate fingers, the Avater peeled the soft fabric off your shoulders.

The subtle movement of the fabric made you wince and the natural instinct was to push Korra away, so, you did. You pushed on her stomach to move her away from you. "Korra, don't."

"Oh, what are you gonna do?" she scoffed. Korra sat on her knees, shoulders squared to you and arms crossed over her chest. "Threaten me? You saw how that worked out with Bolin, nice move by the way." Korra's words were stern and leaning towards the angry side of things. Her nose scrunched while her nostrils flared. She was also gripping her arms so hard, her grip made marks.

"I didn't threaten him," you claimed.

"So, what would you call it? Being a bad friend? Telling him to keep your health a secret knowing damn well it's on the line?"

"My health is not on the line!" You've sat up from the bed now. Your bad arm rested on a mound of pillows and your good arm held it for support. "It's a tiny injury, sprain if you wanna go that far."

"That's rich," Korra scoffed. She shook her head, getting off the bed. "You can barely talk to me without the corner of your mouthing ticking from the pain. I can barely put my hands on your shirt and you can barely sit on the couch without groaning in pain."

You suddenly found interest in the ceiling. You took note of the texture and the color. You would find any new fact you could about this ceiling if it meant you could avoid Korra's burning gaze and her rising anger.

This is why you didn't want to tell her in the first place. She's worried about everyone else and for once, you wanted to be someone she doesn't have to worry about. But now she's here, yelling at you because she cares. Because you didn't tell her.

"I didn't want you to worry about me too," you mumbled. Your gaze dropped to the comforter. "You have so much on your plate, I wanted to ease the load. You shouldn't be stressed about me, you're the Avatar. You have more people to worry about."

Watching you struggle to look her in the eye, Korra sat herself on the bed. She put a soft hand on the mound of your knee, using her thumb to soothe the skin. "Hey," she spoke. "I am your girlfriend first and the Avatar second. I will always worry about you. You deserved to be worried about and cared for."

You swallowed thickly. The back of your throat scratched like you had a cold yet your mouth was eager to say something back. Your brain couldn't think of any words to say.

"Your struggles and problems aren't inferior to me. I want you to come to me with your troubles, not because I'm the Avatar, but because I'm your girlfriend. It's my job to care for you, to heal you when you're sick, and to pick you up when you're down. Master of the Elements or not, that's my job and it's yours too," she sighed. "So, please, for the first time, tell me what's wrong and what I can do to help you."

The moment your eyes locked with hers, a flood broke through you. You wept as you told her what was wrong with your arm and how long you've tried to sustain this injury, four days.

Korra could kick herself over and over again for not noticing how much pain you were in, but you were a good pretender. In some way, she had Bolin and Opal to thank. Without Bolin's sudden desire to train extra hard, you wouldn't be forced to stop pretending.

But instead of wallowing in self-pity and throwing a really weird party for the couple in her head, she comforted you. She pulled you to her chest and held you as tightly as she could without hurting you further.

The two of you stayed like that, you in her arms, for a while. You didn't take notice of the time spent in the position. You two focused on each other's breathing and warmth.

And finally, for the first time in a long time, you let Korra take care of you.

WC: 2,071

[webslingingslasher]

if trouble needed peter during the breakup do you think she’d still be able to call?

yes. and i will now expand, thank u.

peter stares down at his phone, it's not that he's against answering, it's that he doesn't think you meant to call him. or maybe you're drunk and want to berate him.

either way he'd hear your voice and that would be really nice.

'hello?'

'hey.'

okay, you meant to call him. you don't sound drunk, you sound sad.

'everything okay?'

a slight muffle, you switch ears. 'no, not really. i'm lost.'

'on what?' you breathe out a laugh, peter smiles.

'no, actually lost. i was... i'm sorry, i don't mean to hit you where it hurts but i was out with this guy and he ditched me and i have no fucking idea where i am and my phone's about to die.'

peter's quiet, he's all you have right now.

'you're my only hope, obi-wan.' a cheap shot at help, peter appreciates the effort.

'it's- help me, obi-wan kenobi, you're my only hope.'

your turn to smile. 'close enough.'

peter slowly moves around, patting down his pockets to make sure he has everything. 'it's late, trouble. why were you ditched?'

you laugh, but it's not funny. 'you know, it sucks to say that you're the only guy that never threw a temper tantrum when i didn't wanna fuck.'

ouch, a slight sting. it feels better to know it didn't happen, painful to think it could. 'at least i was good at something.'

'well... you weren't terrible at the sex either. you were good enough you scared me from getting it anywhere else, don't know if you can say the same.'

peter closes his eyes when he breathes in, you haven't hooked up with anyone else either. 'if you're asking, no, i haven't hooked up with anyone.'

'i didn't ask.' ah, that's what peter was waiting for. the bait of a question, to turn around and pretend you didn't care what the answer was. peter knows you're just as relieved that he hasn't either.

'where am i going, trouble?' you give him street names, his heart stutters. it's far, it's late, and it's definitely not safe.

'you're outside? nowhere for you to go?'

'when i say ditched, i mean it. if it wasn't so weird i'd ask you to kick his ass.' peter kind of wants you to ask, he'd do it gladly. and half of it wouldn't even be because he left you hanging.

'how much battery do you have left?' a brief pause, you're checking.

'three percent.'

peter hates what he's about to say, but hates the idea of you with a dead phone even more. 'okay, hang up and i'll come find you.' for a second he thinks you did, until you push out the real reason you called him.

'i'm scared.' so you called him, your protector, your safety blanket.

'i'm coming, i promise.' he's already out of the house, walking one half of the way and he'll cut his time in half by swinging the rest. 'ten minutes, maybe less. i might even break out a light jog for you.'

you look around, there's no one. it feels even more eerie, you're still on three percent. 'do i really have to hang up?' leaving out the 'i need to hear your voice to make everything okay.'

'i want you to save what you have, just in case.'

'okay.' it's not, you can feel your chest tighten and the urge to cry. everything sucks and you just really want peter which somehow makes things simultaneously worse and better.

'hey, peter?' you think you'll regret it.

'yeah?'

'can i spend the night?' you count the seconds. two.

'yeah, of course. always. anytime, you know that.'

you smile, he's still your peter. 'thank you. and thanks for coming to save me.'

'it's kind of my job, some even call me a hero.'

'okay, obi-wan.'

'more like spider-man.'

'oh, you're so full of yourself. you wish you were spider-man.'

peter kisses his teeth, 'no, i really am.'

'then spider-man better come save me in five minutes, otherwise what's the point?'

'oh? is that the way i win you back?'

it's not so jokey anymore, in fact peter thinks your phone died. but no, still connected. before he can say that he wasn't thinking and that he's sorry and he was joking you answer him.

'i don't think it would hurt.' 

[bunnys-kisses]

Bunny!! Could i do a whisky and a banana and chocolate muffin with toto?

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? hit up the menu! there's ton to choose from and i hope you'll find something you love! thank you for submitting this order, i've been meaning to write more toto, there's something about him that just draws me in!

banana and chocolate muffins ("i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them.") + whisky (degrading language) served by toto wolff (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, dirty talk/degrading language, mean!toto, age gap (20s/50s), doggy style, jealousy, possessive!toto, spaking/punishment

he had been looking for you in the paddock. it was after the belgian grand prix, the celebrations were underway but mister wolff's precious girl was nowhere to be found.

"schatzi! schatzi!" he called out as he walked through the area. the worst he expected was to find you curled up in a mercedes driver's room fast asleep. all the recent traveling had taken a lot out of you.

what he didn't expect was you giggling at the jokes of none other than max verstappen.

maybe it was a jealousy thing, you and max were closer in age. he was currently a superstar, there was a pull to him that no one else on the grid could deny. the flying dutchman, mad max, whatever else they wanted to call him.

so maybe it was a little overboard with what toto did after the race in your hotel room. he watched your legs kick out as his large hand laid another slap across your ass cheeks.

he kept you pinned to his lap by resting his other forearm on the center of your shoulders. he groped your ass a little rougher than normal and said, "i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them. i don't need you running off with some pretty boy, schatzi. you're mine, remember?"

you whimpered a little bit, "i wasn't going to run off with him. i'd never, honey. i love you too much."

he palmed your bruised cheek, he sighed, "drivers nowadays only think about one thing, my love. they'd eat you up and spit you out." he landed another smack across your cheek, "you're safer with me. someone who actually knows how to be with a woman. you need a man, not a boy."

you whimpered, "i know, toto. i know that, that's why i only want to be with you. max was just telling me a funny story and i lost track of time! i'm sorry!" then yelped when he brought his hand down once more.

toto really couldn't be mad at you for too long, even with envy nipping at his heels. it wasn't like you were naked on top of his car and letting him fuck you. or worse, wearing the red bull logo across those pretty tits.

but verstappen would never see you naked, not while toto still haunts the earth. no, no, that was for his eyes only as he admired your backside across his lap. your poor cheeks were going to be purple come the plane ride back home.

he dragged a finger across your slit, and said, "you'd never let another man touch you, right? you're not going to whore yourself out to the paddock, right? i need to hear it say it." he said as he sank two fingers into you.

you squirmed, but didn't get far. toto was bigger and stronger than you, you nodded and toto sank a third finger in which made your breath get caught in your throat.

"what was that, schatzi?" he asked, "i need you to use your words. can you use your words for me, or if your little brain not working?" it was so patronizing. but it made you hot all over.

his words melted in your brain and spread along the neurons that connected your head together. it was like spreading warm honey. you panted, "no one else, i promise. i promise no one else. i don't want leclerc or verstappen or norris." you were almost in tears. the stimulation left your core shaken.

toto made a pleased noise, his erection in his slacks pressed hard against you. he gave his fingers a few more pumps before he took them out and said, "then i never want you alone with any other driver that isn't on my team. alright? i know russell and hamilton, i don't trust the likes of verstappen. horner doesn't keep his boys in check." maybe it was because max had declined any and all offers to come to mercedes.

you nodded, "i'll be good."

toto chuckled and pushed hair out of your face. there was a bit more affection in his tone as he said, "good girl. that's what i like to hear. you're so good for me."

you squirmed a little, but were soon moved with ease as toto got you on your hands and knees with your bruised ass in the air. you looked divine, like the apple of temptation right before his eyes.

he took off his shirt, and you wiggled your behind at him. he leaned over and grabbed one of your cheeks which made you arch your back further. when he pulled away, he took his belt off. eventually he was naked and on the bed behind you.

he rubbed your hip with his nimble fingers as he loomed over you like a comforting shadow. he loved feeling this close to you, "you're beautiful." he said, "the most beautiful thing on the paddock. more beautiful than the girls that those boys bring around. more than the cars and the champagne, all of it." he kissed the back of your shoulder, such a tender moment considering only moments earlier he was bruising your ass.

"please, toto." you moaned as you felt his blunt cock head up against your slick pussy. you held onto the pillow under your head tightly.

he chuckled and rubbed his cock up against your entrance, "so pretty." he said, "but, you know that. you know how beautiful i think you are." he sank his cock into you and you moaned deep into the covers.

you felt the heat thump in your chest as you took his entire length. quite an impressive feat for someone of your size. but, you were beyond all else, toto's good girl.

he placed both of his hands on your hips and really moved against you. he watched how your body moved with every hard thrust. oh, you were beautiful. angelic, you were beyond amazing and you made toto's body feel flushed.

you whimpered, "i love you, toto. i don't want anyone else. none of them can compare to you." you bent your back to looked up at him. the sight made him shudder as he continued to move against you. fucking you into the hotel room bed.

the bed wasn't like the one back home, but it was a soft surface for him to thrust up into you. toto loved fucking you, he loved the feeling of your wet cunt around his painfully hard cock.

he'd joke and tell you that your pussy was the fountain of youth. it kept him young as he bullied the blunt tip up against your gummy soft cervix.

you rubbed your face up against the pillows and shuddered, "please, honey. ah! shit, you feel so good." you whimpered.

toto tensed up for a moment at your sweet words. he might be a jealous, possessive old bastard, but he loved you. he loved you so deeply, you were his pulse that kept him going everyday.

he kissed at your back as he continued to move against you. you felt like a dream. he continued to go as deep as he could go, his hands held onto your hips as he bullied his cock into you.

the entire thing left your core dripping,

he knew you from every angle, every inch of your being. he knew exactly how to make you scream. so it wasn't hard that you were so close to finishing.

and he didn't let up. he continued to press against you, his cock buried inside of you. his heart was in his throat, even if there was a twinge of pain in his hip. (maybe he wasn't as much of a young stallion as he thought he was).

"so beautiful." he purred, "do you like that, schatzi, when i fuck you the way you deserve?"

you let out a small moan in response and it made toto feel hot all over. god, you were perfect.

"please!" you came loudly, clinging onto the bed under you. you panted heavily into the pillows. orgasm claws through you and made you feel heated all over. only he could make you feel that good. he was right, those little boys on the grid could never do what he did.

how he could pull every orgasm out of you, how he had you wrapped around his fingers like a cute garden snake. he loved you so, which was why he had to make sure those idiot drivers didn't hurt you. only toto knew that he could take such good care of you.

"toto." you whimpered.

he gave it a few more hard thrusts before he leaned over you and finished inside of you. he had you pressed into the bed with your hips angled with his cock.

you whimpered and felt the after waves of the intense orgasm. your body was achy but in a great way. even though your cheeks were to be bruised come morning. you knew that toto would kiss away any and all pain. just as he always did.

he laid out beside you on the bed and got those long arms around you. he made you feel so small when he spooned you from behind. you could feel his cum up against your inner thigh.

between soft pants you said, "no one can take you from me, honey." you pressed your face against his chest. your fingers grazed across his chest hair.

he chuckled, "good. that's what i like to hear." he curled around you and placed kisses on your face. he said, "a woman like you needs a man. not a boy."

you giggled and looked at him, "and you're more than man enough for me. plus, i don't think that any of them could compete in the downstairs department." you covered your face at your words.

he pulled your hands away from your face then held them while he kissed you. it was true, a woman like you needed a man. and the man you needed was him (sorry, verstappen!). <3

[a-b-riddle]

I'm just going to ask this because I need to get it out of my head. This is all in regards to your Poly141 x Reader series going on. I'm just going to recap things first.

-Price got verbally eviscerated because of all the times he got short/snapped at the reader because he came into their bookstore that they bought with their own money, put their own blood, sweat and tears into fixing up and had THE AUDACITY to call them immature for trying to break things off cleanly like a MATURE adult in a space that's RIGHTFULLY THEIRS because he couldn't be an adult admit how he shouldn't of been treating the reader like one of his men.

-Soap showing up trying to apologize and then thinking with his dick because of how the reader got dressed up for a dinner date and got a taste of his own medicine when the reader just hit it and quit it without so much as a thank you, or a goodbye kiss and basically told him to clean up, get dressed and kick rocks.

-Gaz shows up after weeks of just flaking out of any dates and just being a ghost (ironic considering Ghost's callsign) trying to talk to the reader in person when the reader had tried for months to just get a glimpse of him only to be told he couldn't right now but could another time. Then the reader just tell him, 'yeah sorry no. I don't have time for you and your mates nonsense at the moment, just swing by to get your stuff when it works for you'.

-Ghost showing up whenever the reader is in trouble and getting them away from danger only to disappear shortly afterward and give the reader radio silence. The one time that the reader tried to seek him out for just a SHRED of comfort and he just told them, 'You're only good for what's in between your legs love, you knew what you were getting into. You should've known better.'

With all this mind, I want Ghost to have everything and the kitchen sink thrown at him. I want him to be told in no kind words that his words and lack of realizing how fucked up the things he said to the reader were was the straw that broke the camel's back. I want the reader to hurl everything that they didn't say to Price to Ghost. I want him to realize in no unclear terms how if he didn't fuck up so royally and had actually attempted to give the reader a fraction of what he was being given, things would be so much better. And for some extra salt on the wound, have the reader tell him that they suppose that when it comes to his line of work, he's pretty good at breaking anything and everything he touches. It's just a shame that for anything that involves a softer touch, he winds up breaking it beyond repair.

I just love narrative/reflective irony and can't wait for the next part and wish you well for making it to the end of this ramble. 🥰

I'm throwing up.

I am so happy that y'all got it without me having to say it. YES! She is giving everything back that they gave her. John's outbursts, Johnny's lack of aftercare and Kyle's flakiness.

I will say this which I think is interesting. Simon said something hellllla shitty and unforgivable. Like it was mean and something once you say you can't take back. I will ask this and feel free to go back and re-read.

What else did Simon do? Before the phone call, what else did Simon do to reader? We know Simon wanted to hurt reader. Why? Did he plan

Spoiler below, read at own caution

Or was he just sick of being the only one out of the four guys to actually contribute to the relationship and knew he needed to be the one to drive it home that there isn't a future with them? Reader refers to Simon several times as her body guard or guard dog... But never a boyfriend or partner.

In flashbacks, we see that Simon only ever came over at night. You'll find out why in the next few chapters, but as much as I love y'all hating on Simon, I cannot WAIT for y'all to get to the why.

And remember kiddos, hurt people hurt people.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: "So! How DID talking with Carmilla go?"

Vaggie: "Uhh..."

Charlie: (laughs) HA! Yeah- the giant weapons delivery kinda gives me an idea it went preeeetty good, but was it nice? Did you have fun? Did you find out how angels die? Did you two have TEA??"

Vaggie: "It was nice I had fun I know how angels die and no there wasn't any tea."

Charlie: "None? Phooey."

Vaggie: "Did you have any uh, tea in... Cannibal Town?"

Charlie: "None! No finger foods either! They were only a snack for the eyes- you can kiss me and double check, if you want to~"

Vaggie: "Tempting." (chuckles) "And distracting. Let's cover the angel killing stuff first, okay babe?"

Charlie: (sigh) "If we HAVE to..."

Vaggie: "I'll make it quick. You know Carmine's fancy dance slippers?"

Charlie: "Shiny!"

Vaggie: "Made from heavenly steel, turns out."

Charlie: "Oooooh!"

Vaggie: "She used them to kick the head off an Exorcist, last extermination day."

Charlie: "Oh wow. NOT the scenario I was expecting."

Vaggie: "Yeah, she told me about it while kicking me in the face with them-"

Charlie: "SHE WHAT"

Vaggie: "-and even when she explained the whole 'trying to protect her daughters' thing, internally I was still like, dancing someone to death is one of least practical ways of killing-"

Charlie: "She kicked you in the head with her angel killing slippers?!?"

Vaggie: "-long fight scene cut short, she makes it work. But I'm still sticking with my spear for the battle."

Charlie: "VAGGIE!!!"

Vaggie: "I don't care what Carmine or anyone else says. Spears are-"

Charlie: "SHE COULD'VE KILLED YOU!"

Vaggie: "...I know? That's why you asked me to talk with her?"

Charlie: "......."

Charlie: "I think. I'm gonna be sick."

Vaggie: "Aw babe." (brushed back charlie's bangs) "Cannibal Town finger foods finally catching up with you?"

Charlie: "No. Yes. They're not helping but it's more of a 'if my girlfriend had gotten killed, where would the finger of blame be pointed at' kinda thing."

Vaggie: "Sweetie no..."

Charlie: "Sweetie YES. I sent you there."

Vaggie: "And if Carmine had gotten my head, it would've been my fault for being so out of practice and shit at fighting."

Charlie: "UGH."

Vaggie: "Thanks for that, by the way."

Charlie: "What? For WHAT? Saying 'oh hey Vaggie guess what you can die!' and sending you to the Overlord who can kill you????"

Vaggie: "For keeping me out of practice at fighting."

Vaggie: (smooches gf)

Vaggie: "I like kissing you way better, honestly."

Charlie: "... well... well maybe you could still use some practice."

Vaggie: "With the kissing?"

Charlie: "Both. Kissing and fighting. I want you alive at the end of the battle so we can do more smooching afterwards. Okay?"

Vaggie: "Okay."

Charlie: "You'll get better at the fighting again- no more getting hit in the head with heavenly steel?"

Vaggie: "I'll do some more sparring with Carmine. No more heavenly steel headshots."

Charlie: "You promise?"

Vaggie: (smiling) "I promise."

-after the battle-

Charlie: "Mm. Hmm?" (pausing mid kiss) "I think one of your teeth are loose?" (glowering) "Vaggie. Did you get hit."

Vaggie: (groaning) "Table. Head slam. Lute."

Charlie: "Fuck that bitch."

Vaggie: "If you mean fuck her up, then yeah, I tried."

Charlie: "Heheh. I saw her afterwards. I'd say you did pretty good." (kiss again) "Dang it, yep- It's your upper right incisor." (pouts) "Boo. I liked that one a lot."

Vaggie: "If it falls out you can have it."

Charlie: "Really!?"

Vaggie: "If it falls out while we're kissing, please don't swallow it."

Charlie: "I guess we COULD just stop kissing for a sec to actually check on the whole loose tooth situation."

Chaggie: "....."

Vaggie: "Or, you could kiss-"

Charlie: "OR I COULD KISS IT BETTER!!!"

Chaggie: (smooching resumes)

[suckerforcate]

Protecting Brienne

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Reader

Word Count: 914

Warning: some swearing, that's all

My Christmas Present to all of you, love you!

A/n: So this is my first ever request, I really hope you liked it and that I did your idea justice!! It's a bit shorter than my usually stuff, I hope you don't mind. @pastanest

You were walking through the camp the soldiers had built just a few hours ago, talking to Brienne. You were always quite fond of her coming to these things, even though it also meant you'd be immensely scared for her whenever she went out to fight. You knew she was great at fighting, but maybe, someday there'd be someone better than her.

But you didn't want to think about that now. At the moment you just enjoyed talking to her and making her laugh. Considering she rarely laughs a real, deep laugh. But the chuckles and smiles you got out of her were enough for you to be happy. So when she stopped smiling and looked a little uneasy, you directly noticed and tried to find out what the reason for that was.

At first, you hadn't heard it, but after you had stopped talking you heard it very clearly. A few soldiers, standing in front of their tent, looked at you disgustedly and didn't even try to hide that they were talking shit about Brienne.

You directly walked towards them and even though they were much taller than you, nearly as tall as Brienne, you weren't scared of them and stood your ground.

"What did you just say?" You looked up at them with hatred in your eyes.

"I said, that this monster there," he pointed at Brienne, "shouldn't be allowed to fight with us. Not just that she's a woman, but she's a disgusting one as well." He looked at his friends and grinned stupidly, like he was proud of what he said, like it was the most innovative thing. Even though it was the most uncreative, stupid bullshit you had ever heard.

"I'm sorry?! That "monster" as you call her, has a name. Her name is Brienne, and I swear to the old and the new gods, if you say one more thing about her, you will not see the sun rise again. Ever. Is that clear?" He just laughed. You knew it was probably because you were a woman, and you were so much smaller, but you were fierce.

"You think that's funny?"

Brienne still stood a few steps behind you and just looked at you shocked, it was hard wrapping her head around the whole situation.

"(Y/n), I think that's enough. Let's go."

"Look, poor Brienne is scared. Yeah, let's go (Y/n)." the guy looked at you mockingly. But you didn't think of it as funny at all.

"Fuck you. Brienne is a better and truer knight and soldier than any of you could ever be. She is stronger, better, faster and definitely more fearless. I swear, if you don't stop laughing." You took a step forward and for a split second it actually looked like the guy flinched. You were ready to risk it all.

But in the same second that you back out to punch him, you feel strong hands grab your waist from behind and pick you up. Brienne had enough of this nonsense. She threw you over her shoulder and left.

"Let. Me. Down. Brienne!" You hit her on her back and kicked your feet wildly through the air, but nothing helped. She was strong and determined. The laughing in the background just made you even angrier.

She carried you into her tent and let you down inside. Knowing you fairly well, she knew you'd try to escape, so she blocked the entrance and held you back as you tried to run her down. Unsuccessfully. Of course.

"Why did you do that?" That's when you stopped your wild movements and unsuccessful attempts to escape. That was a stupid question. Why would you not defend her.

Still in rage you answered: "Because I love you, obviously, now if you'll just let me pass my fist has an important appointment with that fucker's jaw, and it cannot be missed...why do you look so confused?"

"What do you mean, you love me?"

"Well, I don't really know what's not to understand about that. I mean I put it quite simple, didn't I? I. Love. You. The only other way to say this would probably be that I'm in love with you. But that doesn't quite put it right, I feel like that makes it sound like I'm still a teenager that..." you couldn't go on, because you suddenly felt lips crash onto yours. Brienne easily picked you up, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around her neck and your legs around her torso. She moved away from the entrance and sat you down on her desk.

Against all your wishes you broke the kiss and looked at Brienne.

"You really didn't know, did you? I kind of assumed you knew and just wanted to take it slow. But considering what just happened I don't think you want to take it slow."

Brienne had to laugh at that, a shy, flustered laugh. But a real one. A true one.

"No, I didn't know. How would I? You never said anything? I don't just go around assuming people love me. I'm used to assuming the opposite." You smiled at her apologetic.

"Well, I thought it was quite obvious. I think you are just really oblivious. But I like that, just like I like the rest of you. All of it." You gently caressed her cheek and pulled her closer again. This kiss felt less passionate and less stormy but for sure neither less true nor real than the one before.

[whorediaries-09]

on the run;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- angst, murder, mentions of sexual abuse. a/n- so much angst!! i promise it will all be better in the next and last chapter.

prequel masterlist series masterlist little train.

sirius' worst fears had come true. you were nowhere to be found. your wand was missing. he'd checked the darkest corners of the house, revisiting his ugly memories as his eyes fell on the place he'd spent captured, away from any sort of freedom.

while he hadn't expected you to stay up tangled with him in his bedsheets, he had certainly also not imagined you to be entirely missing from the house.

had you lied to him last night? had you actually used your wand?

it didn't really matter. it didn't matter if you'd lied to him. what mattered now, was to find you. but how? had you left a sign? he needed to find it, if you had.

he couldn't lose you again. not when you'd watched the sun rise on his sins. just you and him.

he took his wand in his hand, muttering the charm to reveal the secrets. the sheet blew up from your bed, revealing a note. he recognized handwriting as he took it in his hands.

'don't come to find me. i'm at the ministry, i have to take care of something. i'll be back.'

he wished he'd believe the note. all he could think about the horrible thought of losing you, again. he couldn't, not when you'd come back right into his life again.

bygone would be bygones. even if it was handcuffed, he'd always leave with you. you'd never been absquatulate.

so, he apparated to the ministry.

*-

he could feel the blood, hot and metallic pouring out of his mouth, as you pushed his body slump against the ground. you held his wand at his neck, venom pouring out of your words as his cold gray eyes stared at yours.

'you thought you could get me, malfoy? i'm so much more than just what you thought i was,'

he pushed his palms together in feign mercy. but oh how could you let him go? it was pure rage that ran through your veins. even with a busted nerve that popped out of your forehead, and blood pouring your torn lip, you knew you'd stand stronger than he'd ever. he'd fallen to the ground the moment your fist hit his head, blood shooting his mouth.

it was pure poison, bitter, agonizing and cruel on your tongue. but this time around, you'd spit it out, victory slashing you through.

'there's a reason why i was the youngest auror in history. you stupid buffoon, you should've thought right through before doing what you did.'

'please, please leave me.' he said. you could see through his act. your leg kicked between his legs. he scrunched up his face in pain.

'you think i'm gonna leave you?'

'you've got no choice. the dark lord will find you and kill you.'

'if you think i'm scared of your little death eater friends, you're so terribly wrong, malfoy.' his lips curled into a cruel smirk. a bitter, remorseless curl.

'what are you going to do if not leave me? torture me? hurt me? you'll leave me alive at the end.'

his words drove you to insanity. pure hot rage consumed you, as you took his walking stick, jabbing the snake shaped end on his face.

'i won't leave you alive- i'll fucking destroy you. i'll fucking end you, malfoy.' you lifted your arms up, taking the stick with you, ready to blow the sharp edge of the fang from the snake, straight on his chest, when you felt strong, familiar arms curl up against your waist, and push you against the person's body.

'LEAVE ME!' you screamed, kicking your legs in the air. you felt tears hot, at your waterline, begging to fall.

'even i hate him, but you can't just fucking kill him,' he said. and god you hated how his voice sounded so familiar and comforting.

'I CAN KILL HIM. HE RAPED ME! this is my battle, sirius. not yours. never will be yours.'

his arms left your struggling body. he took out his wand from his pocket, handing it over to you. lucius sat, propped against the wall. you watched the blood flow from his busted head, nerve throbbing violently blue against his pale skin.

'i'm gonna kill you,' you said, rage consuming you like a madness you'd never felt before. 'fucking destroy you, malfoy. what are you going to do?' you asked, watching as real fear blurred his cold gray gaze. you laughed, mirthlessly. 'what are you going to do? say no?'

and in that moment, you saw it clear, right ahead of you. you held your breathe, counting to ten. you felt the earth move around you and your heart burst. again. you held sirius' wand in your shaking hand. sirius wrapped his fingers around your forearm, the cold touch a contrast against the death eater mark burned on your akin.

this was the end. the end of your endless agony.

and maybe, it was a blessing in disguise.

'it is your war to fight in. but i'll stay with you no matter what.'

your grip tightened around his wand, fueled by his words.

and even if you were too close to the stars, he'd always come back to you.

because the both of you had fallen, again. just as hard as the last time.

'avada kedavra' you whispered. a silent, screeching green light shot out the wand. you watched the life leave his eyes as the wand fell from your grip. your knees weakened. it was as if you watched the soul arise from his lifeless body, and descend into the pits of hell.

and every time you'd realize you're too close to the stars, selling your soul to them, sirius would be right behind you, saving you.

he wrapped his hands around you, pulling you closer to his unusually warm body. it was funny really, how you fit into his embrace as if you remembered him. as if you were the piece of a puzzle.

it was too late. the puzzle had already been broken. you'd already sold your soul for him.

'let me take you home,' he whispered into your hair, picking up his wand.

****************************************

original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

taglist (for series) - @urbansaint

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

****************************************

[goodluckclove]

Various "Failures" From My Google Docs

Good morning! I'm at my usual coffee shop and got inspired by the troubles of a few friends to embarrass myself.

Sit down with me. I'm enjoying my usual blended chai. There's room on the couch if you'd like to join me.

So I've written thirteen novels. I think thirteen, I've actually lost count. Let's say, like, five full-length plays and twelve to fourteen finished novels. Impressive, right? Maybe. I'm realizing that I consider that not much of a brag, if only because I know the amount of trips and stumbles it took to get to one completed project.

I've ditched a lot of ideas. A lot. If I need to I can dig into my old hard drives to find all the doc files from my youth, but I also have the same Google Docs I've had since middle school.

It's mostly plays and ghostwriting assignments, but if you did you'll find some snippets from my constant attempts at growth.

Some stuff like this is okay. The line "hair slicked back/suit black silk" is pretty good, but a little too the writer thinks they're clever for me now. I don't really remember where I planned to go with this. I think the narrator was somehow going to be given the identity of Roy Fontaine. I was really fixated on the surname Fontaine at the time. I don't know why.

But then there's also a lot of stuff like this:

Hey look it's Fontaine again! I guess he's a doctor, too! Also I am astounded by how casually the main character just pulls out the Necronomicon. He pulls it out? From where? His pocket? Is it a zine?

I don't know why, but something about how suddenly this jumps in terms of dropping specifics makes me think that Sonic the Hedgehog is about to show up. I can't explain it.

This is the only thing in a Doc titled "Psychosis". I have zero memory of what I was planning on doing with this. What's kind of crazy though is that I wrote this in 2014, and six years later I'll use essentially this exact bit in a finished novel without even realizing it.

Another bit from 2014. No clue what I planned to do with this. It's hilarious to me that something stopped me from finishing the sentence. What am I, Franz Kafka writing The Tower? I didn't die. I wasn't raptured. I just apparently tried to think of something a large oak door would do and immediately gave up. It was 2014 I had finished, like, four novels. And this idea was fully stalled by what had to be a fucking huge oak door.

My favorite part of this radio play I tried to write is that somehow, believe it or not - when I wrote this I did not fully understand the Quantum Suicide thought experiment. And for along time I still kind of thought that this could be salvaged into a good idea, until last night when I asked my wife to put on a video describing the experiment and I immediately found it so dumb. Just ridiculously stupid. The only good thing about Quantum Mickey is that the title kicks ass and I'm definitely keeping it for something.

I've written a lot. A lot. I've earned the severity of carpal tunnel I currently have. If I had to put it into a statistic, I'd say maybe seventy percent ends up finished. fifty percent ends up polished to be read or published. Thirty percent actually ends up being read or published. I'm okay with this, because I enjoy the work. But for me, part of enjoying the work is not panicking when a project doing work.

If I need to end a project in the middle of a sentence, I do. I've clearly proven that I do. Sometimes I write for thirty pages and lose interest, other times I get a paragraph in and get distracted forever. That's okay.

That's okay. As long as you're doing something.

I could've included segments of Carnation, my first novella that was supposed to be a novel but I never finished it. But I fucking guess that's getting it's own post when I hit 150 followers so I hope you're prepared for what the type of stuff I enjoyed in middle school.

There's an Irish child that speaks exclusively in slang. You aren't ready.

[lovemebutleavemewild]

Leave it to the land - Chapter 1

Summary: The world has ended, it's over—except some people can't seem to accept that. Those same people think the cure lies in people like you and your little sister. And they're willing to do anything to find it.

The road to safety is a long one, and you're about to learn that it isn't one you can walk alone. Read it on ao3.

Shoving aside a pile of old newspapers, you see a packet of spaghetti pushed into the corner of the shelf. A triumphant hiss leaves you as you grab it. Added to the two tins of tomatoes you also found and it’s as good a meal as you’ve had in a while.

Thinking you’d rather not push your luck, you move quickly back among the shelves, at a half crouch. You’re at the edge of the aisle, by the counter when you see the movement out of the corner of your eye. You duck back instinctively, breath catching in your throat.

The first thing you notice about the guy is his size. The second thing, and more worrying by far, is the gun held low against his body. His head is turning slowly side to side and you realise he's sweeping the aisles and heading your way. You start to backtrack up the aisle you just came down, slowly so as not to alert him to your presence. The remnants of the contents from the shelves litter the floor and you're terrified you'll kick something and attract his attention.

You can hear him approaching and you're not going to make it, he's going to see you. And then suddenly, there is a noise, a thump of something hitting the ground from the other side of the shop.

You feel relief for a fraction of a second and then, abruptly, terror. You speed back up the aisle, not caring about the noise now. When you get to the top, you see that the man isn't even facing you anymore. He's moved his gun to rest on his shoulder and is moving towards the door to the storeroom, where he's clearly heard the noise you just did.

He's less than two steps away from it and stretching out a hand and you don't even think. Running towards him, you pull out a small pocket knife, your only weapon and leap onto his shoulders.

You swing your arm around to his front, knife in hand to try and stab his stomach but you swing too wide and completely miss.

And then you're being ripped from his back and whirled around, your body slammed against a wall. He grabs your arm and slams it next to you, so hard you’re sure your elbow has cracked. You immediately drop your knife.

“What the fuck?” the man hisses. You look up at him, determined not to let show on your face how fucked you know you are. The guy is at least a head taller than you and built. The one hand he's using to grip you by the neck of your shirt is enough to hold you up so your toes only brush the floor. His other hand points his gun at you—it's too long for the close range, so he has to twist his arm back to shove it in your face. Still effective though.

The pressure on your neck is starting to hurt. You kick out at him but he avoids your feet easily.

“Put me down” you huff and to your surprise, he does actually loosen his grip so you can get your feet back under you. He takes a small step back. This has the benefit of leaving you free but the disadvantage of giving him back both hands; he immediately returns his free hand to the gun pointing at you.

“What's your problem? he asks. Now that you can get a closer look, he’s wearing a military-style vest, pockets filled with more weapons, hair cut into a severe mohawk.

“You need to let me go,” you tell him, trying to sound braver than you feel. He snorts.

“That right? And why’s that?”

“Because- because, I have a group nearby and if I’m not back soon, they’ll come and get me!” The man cocks his head to the side, then presses a radio on his shoulder.

“Think that's true, LT?” he asks. There's no answer and you feel a spring of hope.

Your heart drops to your stomach as the door of the shop opens and another man steps inside. This guy is objectively a lot scarier. He's a few inches taller and wearing a black balaclava with a faded white skull painted on it. And, of course, he’s also armed.

“Negative” he says, seemingly answering the man's question. “Perimeter is clear.”

You're really starting to panic now. You hold your hands up.

“Look, I think I made a mistake here—please, I just panicked. Can't you just- just let me go?”

The man moves closer to the new arrival to say something you can't hear. He's relaxed his hold on his gun slightly but you still keep your hands up. You try to keep your eyes on them.

The man in the mask is still staring at you. It's disconcerting. You wish you could hear what they were saying. After a minute, the masked man nods very slightly and the other turns to you and jerks his head.

“Go on,” he tells you.

You stay frozen.

“What?”

Mohawk raises his eyebrows, then flaps his hand in your direction.

“Go, get out of here. Limited time offer, doll. Better move.”

You still don't move and despite your best efforts, your eyes flick to the door of the storeroom. It's just for a second but as soon as you snap your eyes away, you know you're screwed. Skull face was still looking at you and now his eyes are moving from you to the door.

When he steps toward the door, you mirror his movement, putting yourself in his path. He puts a hand on your shoulder so quickly you don't have time to dodge it, and then he shoves you hard into the wall.

You fall halfway to your knees before you're scrambling to your feet, only to find yourself, once again, on the wrong end of mohawk man’s gun.

You're winded, panting slightly and looking at the man in the skull mask. He's got a hand on the doorknob now.

“Don't” you whisper. His head cocks slightly but he doesn't look at you this time. He slips a handgun from his belt and swings the door open, aiming it inside.

You can't stand it now and dive after him. You hear the Scotsman curse and scramble after you. You duck around the masked man and you know the only reason you haven't been shot by either of them is that you keep surprising them with your stupidity.

You face the men again, arms spread and you feel small hands touch your back but you can't turn to look now. The urge to turn and check on the little girl behind you is hard to ignore, but you resist it.

“Look, I'm sorry. We'll go, we're going!”

You sound frantic, even to your own ears and you're well aware that you're blocked in. You raise your hands higher to show you're not a threat and your sleeve slips down, just slightly. Skull face’s eyes flicker to your wrist.

“What's that?”

Your hand automatically goes to pull your sleeve back but he raises his gun another inch and you freeze.

“Nothing, it isn't anything!”

“You're marked,” he says.

“No!” Your voice is a confession in itself and you know it.

“Ghost, we've got company.” You'd almost forgotten the man in the mohawk, leaning against the door, until he speaks again. You watch as he ducks out of the room, pulling a knife from his belt as he goes. He's back in a few minutes and this time he steps into the room with the rest of you, closing the door behind him. The storeroom is dim now and you take a deep breath and try to make your voice calmer, placating.

“We can work something out here,” you tell the men.

“Why, you got stuff to trade?” the man you can now call Ghost, says. Before you can answer he's ducking to grab the backpack at your feet. The hand now clutching your trouser leg tightens and you hear her whimper quietly when he gets close. He rifles through it and you use the time to try to think because you have nothing to trade, as they're about to discover. And people who are marked, people like you … they'd be rewarded if they turned you in. With the kid behind you, they’d get double.

“Soap.” The sharpness in Ghost's voice brings you back to yourself and your brow furrows—you don't have soap in the bag. But apparently he's now talking to his friend because the man with the mohawk goes to see what he's looking at.

Whatever he sees now held in Ghost's hand makes him look at you sharply.

You trip back another step as Ghost gets in your face.

“Where did you get this?” he asks and it takes you a second to focus on what he's holding. It's an old patch, one made to be sewn onto clothes. There's a logo on it—a skull on top of a sword with wings on either side.

“It- a friend gave it to me” you manage.

“What friend?” Soap asks, moving around Ghost—the two men are now so close to you that you're backed fully into the corner. There's another soft noise behind you and both men glance down. Then, blessedly, they back off a bit.

“We’re not going to hurt you” Soap says, more quietly now. “What are your names?”

You hesitate but there's not much to stop you so you tell them your name.

“And this is Dot.” A pair of eyes peer around you for a second before hiding behind your leg again. Soap smiles at her before looking back at you. Ghost doesn't react at all, not that you'd be able to tell behind the mask.

“We asked you a question” he reminds you gruffly. “Who gave you this?”

“Why?” You ask tensely. “If you're thinking of turning us in anyway-”

“We might not,” Soap interrupts you and your heart stutters. He glances at Ghost again. “If you start talkin’.”

You know you have to, if there's any chance they'll spare you. It’s not much, but apparently you do have something to trade.

“His name was Kyle. I don't know his second name but people called him Gaz.” Not you—to you, he was always Kyle.

“Was?” Soap prompts.

“He worked in the centre we were in.” You look down. “He helped us get out, told us there was going to be a riot, and that we could use the distraction to get away. He was going to do the same.”

You're talking more quickly now.

“We were meant to meet him at a safe spot after but when we got there, the place was overrun.” Overrun with the dead goes without saying.

“Before it all went down, he gave me that patch and told me where to find him if we couldn't get to our meeting point.”

“And where was that?” Soap prompts.

But now you set your jaw, tilt your head up and look at them both, first Soap, then Ghost, staring into the only part of his face you can see—his eyes.

“Somewhere safe. Somewhere the three of us could be safe.”

You fold you arms, square your stance.

“But I'm not telling you anything else until you tell me what's in it for us.”

[sidekick-hero]

Being in a long-term relationship has many perks, Steve finds out, almost 2 years into dating Eddie. There is someone to share your days (and nights) with. Someone to support you. Someone who can pick up milk when you run out of it and only notice when you’re already at work. Someone to hold you on your bad days and celebrate the good ones with you.

Another benefit is that you get to know them inside and out. Their tells, their quirks, their likes and dislikes.

Steve learns that Eddie is a restless sleeper, all flailing limbs that tend to hit Steve in the face and other sensitive places. He learns that Eddie loves ketchup and tomato sauce but hates tomatoes. That he secretly loves country music and can play every Dolly Parton song on his acoustic guitar (he found this out when they had their first big fight and Eddie serenaded him with I will always love you to apologize). And that his most sensitive area is the place right under his ear, which gets him hard in seconds when Steve so much as breathes on it.

Steve also learns that Eddie is not only a picky eater, but also gets hangry frighteningly fast. One moment they’re joking around, the next his remarks get biting and mean. At first, Steve was taken aback, hurt even. They go more than a few days without talking after one of what Steve later learns is a hangry diva attack.

It’s Wayne who brings him up to speed after Eddie all but stormed out when Steve asked him if he could drive Dustin, Lucas and Mike home after their hellfire session because Steve had the late shift at the store that day.

He tells Steve, “Eddie gets mad when he’s hungry, y’know. The kid has to have a snack every two hours or else he starts throwing hands. Even as a toddler, he was all giggles and sunshine before all hell broke loose. First time, I thought boy got possessed by a demon.”

The thing is, Steve likes taking care of people, likes taking care of Eddie. So, he starts packing snacks. And when Eddie starts to get bitchy with him, he just shoves a granola bar in his mouth. Works like a charm, every single time.

Until it doesn’t. Because, as mentioned, Eddie is also a picky eater. He hates vegetables with the fire of a thousand suns (Eddie’s words, not his, because he is not a drama queen like his boyfriend).

Steve is afraid he's going to get scurvy, and Robin told him all about it one day when his only meal was the candy on the counter at the family video store. He'll never forget what she told him that day.

That’s why Steve is trying to change Eddie’s eating habits. He does it out of love. Eddie doesn’t agree.

"Steve, what snack did you bring today? Please tell me it’s Twinkies."

Steve fishes in his jacket for the bag he stored there before he left the house this morning. "It’s actually carrot sticks. They’re really good?" It comes out as a question and Steve wants to kick himself.

This is not going to go over well.

Eddie looks at him with a look of utter betrayal. "You monster."

Steve changes tactics. "If you're really hungry, you'll eat the carrots."

"And if you really loved me, you'd have brought a Twinkie. Who do you think I am? Bugs fucking bunny?"

Steve refrains from rolling his eyes at Eddie. “You got to eat something healthy once in a while, goddammit. You get scurvy, you lose your teeth or your eyesight. Do you want that?”

"What if I don't want to keep my eyes healthy, huh? I've seen enough."

Max, who sits next to Eddie during their movie night, punches him, hard, her eyes never leaving the screen.

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to change tactics.

"You know how fickle life can be, Steve. What if something happens and my last meal is some fucking carrot? Do you want that on your conscience, dude?"

Steve's patience is wearing thin. Maybe he should have eaten something. Except for the carrots, which didn't do shit for his mood. Not that he'd admit it out loud. This is about Eddie, who is being a big baby right now.

Always a man of action, he decides to take matters into his own hands. He takes one of the carrot sticks and tries to shove it between Eddie’s lips.

"I swear to God, I will bite off your carrot stick if you don't take that away from me!"

"EXCUSE ME THIS IS AT LEAST AN EGGPLANT"

"Small cucumber at best." Eddie says in a stage whisper to a bunch of traumatized 16-year-olds.

That’s enough. Steve gets up with an exasperated huff and storms into the kitchen. You know, like an adult.

After about five minutes, Eddie follows.

"Y’know, if you want to see me go down on some stick I got a better idea, big boy."

Steve smiles in spite of himself. He always folds up way too fast. Love sucks that way. He hands Eddie a goddamn Twinkie.

They share it.

As they munch on their scurvy-inducing snack, Eddie says, his cheeks stuffed with cake, "You don't get this fine physique from carrots, Steve. I'm a growing boy."

Something that Eddie has learned about Steve in the last two years? He can be a little bitch, too.

"If by fine physique you mean a saggy ass, be my guest, Eddie."

The kids burst into the kitchen seconds later, alerted by an indignant scream, and find them in the middle of a food fight. They see Eddie shoving a Twinkie down Steve's pants and yelling, "Have a saggy ass yourself!"

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

After everyone leaves, they lie in bed and make out like the horny teenagers they no longer are. As Steve's hand moves from Eddie's stomach to his groin, Eddie gasps with pleasure. "Yeah, baby. I want your hand on me."

“I have another idea.” Steve breathes into his ear, having made sure to lick a strip up Eddie’s neck up to his ear to do so. He lets his hand travel down further south.

Steve should have known better. One more thing he learned about Eddie? He never lets anything go.

"Oh, now you want to top, huh? What about my saggy ass? HUH WHAT ABOUT THAT STEVEN."

Thank you, @legitcookie and @yournowheregirl for being silly with me! This is like 33.3333 percent mine, the rest is from those two evil geniuses 💜💜💜💜

[lutawolf]

Never Let Me Go D/s breakdowns Ep 1

Nuengdiao comes from a rich and important family. One that has often found him in danger as well as being used. Forcing him to grow up isolated. Along with having an asshole father that allows no room for imperfection. Then said father is shot to death right before him, leaving him and his mother in a precarious position. The son of a loyal Kiattrakulmethee family employee, Palm is appointed to protect him from the dangers in and outside school. But can Palm really keep his life and heart safe?

Is there a D/s element? No fucking clue. Is there a power imbalance? Abso-fucking-lutely. But is there a distinct power play line between work and play? That's the question. One I feel is not going to be answered clearly. But there has been a request for me to try.

Episode 1: Let's go... I plan on just covering things that I deem D/s related, or we'll be here all day. At the same time, I can't keep my damn mouth shut, so get ready for anything here.

I like the start of the series with him staring at his distorted reflection in the window. I might actually use that in a book. Damn! "I understand that work is more important to him than me." "I'm glad you understand, your father." That's so fucked up. There is nothing, nothing, more important than your loved ones. Pay your bills, but work is not the memories that will sustain you when you need comfort and love. Okay, good, he showed up. Lawd this dad. Yeah dad, no pressure! I mean, shit... I didn't want him dead. Well that sucked.

Okay, so, that first meeting screams chemistry! Hot damn. Palm just fell flat on his face with hardly any words between them, huh.

Let's talk pool scene because I'm for sure catching subby vibes. Granted not a D/s relationship, yet, any ways. This is a good time for me to explain how I can typically tell is someone Dom or sub.

Now, the first thing to do is get a frame of reference. So, let's back up to Palm with his friends on the boat. There is not a lot of confidence there, which is typical of a sub. A lot of subs gain confidence from their Doms. However, he does talk to his friends as equals. Then you get to him with his dad and he immediately hits submission mode. Now take what I'm saying and compare Palm to his dad, who works under Nueng but isn't subby at all. He is being subservient at his job, but he himself is not submissive.

Now Palm has kicked Nueng into the pool, we see a confident and unafraid Palm when he did it. Then the minute Nueng starts being authoritative, we see a different Palm. 1:54 "What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Head and shoulders go down. No anger, this is disappointment in himself and that he upset Nueng. That is a sub mind set. As he approaches Nueng he is still in a submissive pose. Then he puts the gun down and comes to sit beside the pool, but he is positioning his body in a submissive manner. Making himself appear smaller. You'll see this in subs and people who are scared. He looks up to talk and then glances back down. Okay, so we find out that Palm doesn't want his dad to know. Someone we know he is submissive to. So the submission might be a transfer because of his day. We'll have to keep watching to see! His verbiage is very sub. This is interesting.

In the classroom, we see a more confident Palm. His shoulders are back, and his eyes are aware. He is looking around and paying attention. I can for sure see why people are confused. Man, this boy is simp and Nueng is not having it. Palm follows him, again we see sub positioning come out. Shoulders and head down. See how he keeps his head low. We could say this is because it's his job, but you never see his dad do this. I do think someone told him to keep an eye on Nueng. Nueng knows it and hates it, but there is for sure more here.

That sneak out scene is pretty interesting because we see the confidence and the submission. I'm dying over his lack of ability to climb. Come on now. Anyone could do that. Those shoulders, head, and eyes.

"Palm. Don't you think it's a bit too coincidental?" Smart boy. Okay, so this is for sure a job. Damn, he's taking some jabs. Not that I blame him for being angry or feeling like people should prove themselves. Fuck, this is so interesting. They dynamic. We for sure got subby with him not meeting eye contact until he goes to assure Nueng that he can in fact protect him. Till then his eyes are down, but then he lifts his chin and gives confidence. He is sure that he can protect Nueng.

Then when Nueng asks if he can be friends we see subby and then back to confident. I'm in the dark, peeps. That's it for episode one. Let me know if you want me to continue! If so, comment or reblog. This post is dedicated to @chordassinationtechnique and @biochemjess Hope you enjoy 💜💜💜

Episode 2

[crispy-bonnie]

Salutations , Fried Rabbit !!!! May I Please Request : Dallas , Bain , Sniper And Cloaker With A Y/N That Really Loves Drawing Them ?

I Can Just See Y/N Drawing The Cloaker And The Man Going " Do You Want Me To Pose For You ? " Rose & Jack Style JWJDJEDJEDJ—

i read this request and my brain literally got hit in the fuckin face with an idea like holy shit i love this prompt help ??? /gen

You like to draw your S/O - PAYDAY + FBI

Dallas

Dallas didn't pay too much attention to it at first

When you came up to him in his office and asked if you could chill there, he just let you and payed little attention

However, he later started noticing the glances you kept casting at him every now and then, and it was starting to get on his nerves just a tad

When he asked about it, you quietly explained that you were just drawing, and he asked to see it

If you don't share it, then he'll respect your privacy, but say that you definitely should show him some time

If you do show it though, he nearly has a heart attack [/pos] upon seeing the little sketch of himself in your notebook

Not only do you draw well, but the way you drew him just has him melting like

Does he really look that good to you?

He tells you that you should draw more often, and even says he'll model for you if you want

In reality, he just wants to see more pieces of him being made

He'll ask to keep one of them and if you let him, he'll have it framed on his desk because he loves it so much

Dallas himself tried to draw you as well

It was decent, but it could definitely use practice lol

Bain

Bain always wondered why you always had your nose stuffed in a notebook whilst scribbling on the page like there was no fuckin tomorrow

You didn't show anyone what was in there either, so Bain decided to send Dallas on a secret 'mission'

What he actually did was get Dallas to steal your notebook while you were on a heist and send him pictures of the pages

Bain nearly choked on his vape when he saw the images like help-

Your notebook was full of your interpretations of Bain based off of the very little information that you could gather during heists

He finds it fuckin adorable like oh my god

As much as Bain wants to reveal his appearance to you and see how you'd draw it, he can't because his whole deal is being mysterious ooOOooOOOoooOoo

He hints towards his appearance whenever you're on a solo heist, hoping that you'll incorporate them into your drawings

If he finds that you actually add these hints he'll fuckin melt

Regardless, he ends up getting fed up with waiting and arranges a meetup between the two of you under the guise of a heist

Once you two are face to face, he offers to model for you and oh my god the way you just squealed in excitement as you got your notebook out /pos

I like to think that Bain lowkey is self-concious about his appearance when it comes to meeting up with you, so when you draw him in his usual wear/style he melts oml

If you let him, he'll keep the drawing on one of his monitors to remind himself that he's perfect the way he is

After all, the drawing is how you see him through your eyes, and it ensures him that he is beautiful no matter what

Cloaker

Oh my fucking god this man

As per usual, he broke into your god damn room again through the vent and caught you drawing something

He didn't catch exactly what it was because you hid your notebook before he kicked the vent cover off, as you heard him crawling against the metal of the vents

Regardless, Cloaker managed to get it from you anyway and started flipping through the pages

He didn't say much about the drawings. He just shrugged and said 'cool' before leaving

But in reality, he was flustered as all fuck about it

Like did he really look that hot to you?? What???

Cloaker made sure to pass by you a lot more, making sure to spiffy himself up for your drawings

At some point, he got tired of you not actually showing him the rest of your drawings, so while you were sitting in some hallway and doodling, he just walked up to you, crouched down to your level and said:

"Do you want me to pose for you?"

You were redder than the red on your uniform I swear

If you say no, he'll just continue annoying you until you say yes, and once you do, he'll immediately start posing

He'll listen to you when you ask him to pose a certain way, but he does his damn best to make his poses as sexual as possible

Watching you doodle rapidly with a tomato-red face was just the cutest thing ever like

He was trying not to break pose just to embrace you oml

Once you finish and show him, he just stares for a hot minute before going:

"Hey y'know I could be a nude model for ya if you like-"

You slapped him in the face with your notebook

Whether or not you accept this offer is up to you

No I'm not writing that

Sniper

Sniper first caught you drawing him while on the job

Like Dallas, he didn't really try to bother you too much about it

You two were sitting atop a tower and keeping an eye out for enemies when he noticed you jotting something down in your notebook

He always thought it was just some sort of journal log or something, but those thoughts changed when he started noticing you glancing at him from the corner of his eye

Eventually he just speaks up about it since he's pretty curious on why you're focused more on your notebook than the job at hand

"Whatcha writin'?"

You quickly tell him that you aren't writing anything, and now he's really intrigued. Without looking away from his scope, he asks once more:

"Well, what are ya drawin'?"

If you lie and say you're drawing someone or something else, he just chuckles and points out how he's noticed you staring at him for the past few minutes

You eventually admit it, which elicits yet another lighthearted laugh out of him as he asks to see it

If you show it to him, his face visibly goes red

He's not used to people looking at him, let alone viewing him in such a positive manner

In a stuttery voice, he just says that it looks good and that you should draw more

If you two end up in the same situation of being put on the same watch post, he'll make sure that he's positioned well enough so you can see his face, just so that you can draw him

He'll constantly be asking to see what you've drawn, and his heart just melts every time he sees a drawing of him on the page

[weebsinstash]

No but deadass the protagonist is trying to escape by literally jumping out a window, she doesn't want to do this that badly, and her wolf is STILL whimpering inside of her, "no, I don't want to 🥺"

maybe I'm just built different but like, the werewolves don't always have their wolves from birth, so maybe it's just me that finds it kind of fucked up that they live a decent number of years and forming their own identity and then the wolves come along and, suddenly the human is supposed to just COMPROMISE autonomy with something else? "Oh yeah depending on the story I'm either 12 or 13 or 16 or 18 but yeah let me SUDDENLY GIVE UP CONTROL OF MY BODY AND MY LIFE"

And I understand it's presented as, "the wolf is like you, it's a part of you, what it wants is usually what you want" but like, no, that's what they want to ACT like it means, but, these wolves just straight up do shit their humans beg them not to do. And depending on the story, the wolves are, just, STUPID? Like sometimes the wolves are like "oh my gosh our mate is a hottie, we are SO lucky queen" and other times they're like "we need mate, mate protect pups, it is fate, moon goddess has decided" so like, imagine having a perfectly fucking valid reason to hate someone and you get bodyjacked by essentially something that is too primal and lower intelligence to even GRASP OR CARE about the nuances of why you're upset and how you have been wronged and even occasionally telling you "humans are stupid and complicated" or shit like that

(I made the mistake of still listening and yeah, he literally caught her as she was running away and marked her by force and she's just expected to be chill with this 😔 he barely even feels bad and he mostly just rushed all this because. He was jealous of another dude being friendly to her and wanted to claim her before anyone else did first. What a scumbag.)

Absolutely dying to write a story with a Reader who is a werewolf but absolutely hates their entire society and culture or just, these little traditions they wind up witnessing. They're forced to attend a customary ceremony where a pair are claiming each other and you're rolling your eyes because you know the girl absolutely hated the guy before the mate bond kicked in. The pack Alpha is hosting a speech and you aren't absolutely on your knees worshipping the ground like some of your fellow pack mates, not feeling this primal loyalty and connection the rest of them do. Just you being brought into the pack and within the same week asking "so I can still go back home though right?" And just being so unapologetically vocal about how much you hate all of this

I also just. Have been addicted to stories where it's like "you rejected and abused me when I was weak so now that I'm gifted and strong you'll either feel my apathy or my wrath" so, the specific idea I keep having is, Reader is a werewolf with an absolutely massive fear of dogs/wolves (your parents were attacked and killed by rogue wolves when you were small and you've been raised human) so when you finally get tracked down and brought back to your family's original pack from before they had been living in the human world, you don't want anything to do with anyone, any pack events, any ceremonies, anything, but you're still a kid and get dragged around anyways, and I can imagine Reader just, never shifting when the coming of age hits, maybe even outright begging the moon goddess not to be given a wolf. And then the next year. And then the next. And you start becoming an even bigger outcast than you already were because now you're the werewolf without a wolf, missing all the little celebrations all the other kids your age get, not getting to form a pack link, or not taking the official ceremony to become an actual member in rank and name. You're beginning to hit young adulthood as all the elders treat you with disdain or indifference since you're weaker and can't contribute, if they don't outright think you're cursed. You get bullied, and people either join in or do nothing to stop or admonish it. Anyone who's nice to you doesn't when matter because they're drowned out by all the rest.

One day Reader's basically officially declared the intent to leave the pack and go back to living in the human world, and maybe it's a mixed bag of "good riddance" and "wait what? 🥺 but werewolves are super social and emotional, you can't leave, you belong in a pack, also its safer for you" (maybe even a bully or two of yours actually doesnt want you to leave after all) and you just unapologetically have no interest in staying. And years later it turns out, you had either had your first shift in secret all along, or you shifted after leaving the pack but essentially decided, you never wanted to be there anyways, and it turns out the "weak little wolfless loser" they all mistreated turns out to be, something cliche like a white wolf or a healer or something, and you've got wolves tracking you down like "wow this is so exciting to have a white wolf in our pack :) we'll be so much stronger and have so much more respect now" and you just laugh like "you think I'm coming back just because i have a wolf now?" *proceeds to slam the door in their faces while laughing*

[fitrahgolden]

Should You Need Me: 2 - You were just thinking of me

[TW: Mention of cancer and resulting death.]

Anthony jogged up the stairs to Benedict's flat. He’d rushed over that evening after learning that Colin was there as well. He opened the door with an uncharacteristic flourish. "ABC, assemble! We're going out tonight, brothers.” He stopped short when he saw Benedict’s girlfriend. “Oh, hey, Sophie. Uh, feel free to join us."

Benedict, Sophie, and Colin all looked at each other, obviously in a silent conversation. Anthony didn't have the patience for whatever this was.

"Well? Come on, then. Get ready."

"Anthony…" Benedict started, exasperated.

Anthony shook his head dismissively. "Whatever it is, we'll talk about it on the way."

"But we aren't going anywhere, Ant. We're having a hang here." Colin said before taking a swig of his beer. "Come sit."

Anthony crossed his arms as he rolled his eyes. "No, Col. I'm not gonna 'come sit.' What is this?"

Benedict laughed. "It's called a night in. I hear tell it’s very popular with the post-uni crowd."

"Excuse me.” Colin feigned offence. “I'm only just post-uni, for the record. Check out this babyface."

"Feel free to join the one man pub crawl, then." Sophie looked over from the other side of Benedict.

"No, no. Don't kick me out. I take it back. I'm old. Ancient, really."

"You're really making me go out alone?" Anthony was getting restless. He needed to go out.

"No one's making you do anything. You're the one who makes all the decisions for us, remember? What with the whole two years of experience you have over me."

"Then I'm deciding this for you. You lot are coming with me. And, Ben, do you really want to have a contest over who’s had more experience taking care of this family between the two of us?" Anthony winced at saying it, and Ben winced at hearing it. Fuck, I really am an arsehole.

Sophie put a comforting hand on Benedict’s thigh and patted. "What's going on with you, Ant?" she asked gently, which confused Anthony. She was speaking as if something was actually wrong.

"Nothing's going on. Why?"

"You're going out a lot. Even for you. We're worried your dick is gonna fall off from overuse." Colin said, the second part earning a smack on the back of the head from Benedict, though they were both laughing.

"You know what? Fuck you guys." Anthony turned to leave.

"Anthony, stop. Really, please tell us what's going on. It's sort of starting to feel like… Well…"

"Just fucking say it, Ben."

"You haven't gone out this much since Dad."

Anthony’s jaw clenched as he blinked rapidly. Surely not.

"That's why we think something's going on." Colin said, uncharacteristically solemn.

Anthony stared at his brothers. "You've got to fucking kidding me. Especially you, Ben. Do you even realise what you're saying?"

Anthony's patience ran out as Benedict tried to find the words to respond.

"Well, this has been grand. Thanks for the intervention. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Anthony left Benedict's flat, ignoring his brothers' pleas for him to stay and talk. What a load of bollocks. There was no way Kate fucking Sharma was bringing him back down to the place he was after his father died. The very idea of it was an insult–to Edmund Bridgerton more than Anthony himself. No fucking way. In fact, it'd been two weeks since he met Kate at that first appointment. He was well over whatever that shit was. Now, he was just having fun, like he always did. Like normal. This was all normal. Kate Sharma who?

—

Appa had really liked Tom. Moreover, he had liked him for Kate. Before anyone else realised it, Appa knew Tom was in love with Kate.

Kate and Tom met in secondary school and hit it off pretty much immediately. Tom was kind and earnest. Kate made Tom laugh and they both loved school.

Kate's father, Maaran, was diagnosed with leukaemia when she was fifteen years old. From that point forward, Tom was always there for her, for her whole family, really. By Kate's eighteenth birthday, Maaran was receiving at-home hospice care. Her mother, Kaveri, had all but moved into his home with his second wife, Mary. The two women leaned on each other heavily during Maaran's last months, so Kate turned to Tom. He was her shoulder to cry on, her support when Kate practically became her little sister's primary caretaker. He was her person.

During one of the many afternoons Kate spent lying with her father in his hospice bed, she couldn't hold back the steady stream of silent tears as Maaran talked about the kind of future he envisioned for his eldest daughter. A future he wouldn't be a part of.

"Do you think you'll get married, Chellam?"

"I don't know, Appa."

"You're right. No one is good enough for you."

Kate wanted to laugh, but couldn't find it in her. "I don't… I really don't think I can get married without you there." She choked the words out.

Maaran clicked his tongue and pulled Kate closer to him. "Illai, Kathani. I'll be there. I'll be right here." He pointed to Kate's chest. "Right?"

"Right." A whisper was all Kate could manage. She grabbed her father's hand and interlaced their fingers before she put both their hands back over her heart. "You'll always be right here. I promise."

The two rested their heads together. After a while, Maaran chuckled to himself. "Tom will surely be heartbroken if you swear off marriage."

Kate's red, puffy eyes squinted in confusion. "What? Why would Tom care?"

Maaran shook his head. "Because that boy loves you."

"I love him, too. He's my best friend." Kate shrugged. She wasn't following.

"And you're his. That's never going to change. He also happens to be in love with you, though, Chellam."

Kate shook her head vigorously. "That's not true, Appa. Why… Did he tell you that?"

"No. He didn't have to."

"How do you know, then?"

Maaran's sigh was drawn out. "Kathani. You know how I love Amma but I'm in love with Mum?"

Kate nodded.

"Well, when Tom looks at you, it isn't like when I look at Amma. He looks at you the way I look at Mary."

Kate was at a complete loss for words. After a minute, Maaran ran his hand over his face.

"Don't… Ah, maybe I shouldn't have told you. I'm sorry, Chellam."

"No, it's OK, Appa." Kate rested her head against her father''s chest.

"Look at me, Kathani." Maaran cupped Kate's face as she complied. "It doesn't have to be him. It doesn't have to be anyone. But, just know, if he finally wakes up to how he feels about you, if you love him back, if you two want a life together… Know that I am certain you'll make something beautiful. Just… No matter what. Whether it’s marriage or moving away from home, or… I don’t know. Anything. Don't close yourself off to something you may want because I'm not going to be in your life in the same way we thought I would be, eh? Please."

—

When they were twenty-one, Tom asked Kate out on a date. She said yes. Three months later, he asked if they were boyfriend and girlfriend. She said yes. Three years later, Tom proposed. Kate said she wasn't ready. After two more years, Tom proposed again. That time, she said yes.

Kate's parents were best friends who got married without being in love. It probably seemed laughable to some that Kate admired her parents' marriage, considering Maaran and Kaveri were only married for five years, divorcing when Kate was three. But the way her parents explained it to her when she was older, the way she understood it now, she knew their marriage wasn't a failure. They loved each other and they loved Kate. She didn't care that it didn't look the way other people thought it should. 

But Kate didn't tell Tom she wasn't in love with him. That was the big difference. She didn't think she had to tell him since she knew she and Tom would have a good marriage–a good life– regardless.

All this was going through Kate's mind as she inexplicably stared for far too long at her calendar, at the next appointment she had booked with Anthony. It was coming up in a month. No, it wasn’t an appointment with Anthony. It was an appointment at Bridgerton Formal. Maybe she'd be working with one of the seamstresses. Maybe she wouldn't see Anthony at all. And that'd be fine. Great, actually.

Kate was on the right path with Tom. A path to happiness.

Kate didn't need to be in love. She thought.

[cravingbro]

Heartbroken Escape

siblings oneshot au: 3,2k words — harsh words, platonic intimacy, travelling, low intensity of self-harm, vulnerable masculinity, description of ex-lovers, mention of alcohol, contains emoji and few incorrect capitalization.

Being homme fatale outside the house when he was born goofy sometimes made him exhausted. There were times when he was out of his mind and lose control over his charm, usually when he just broke up with his girlfriends which I already lose count. He would ask me to accompany him to do something he wouldn't do with his ex or when he already booked this and that.

He's so stupid at times. Why would he booked a village cottage staycation when he knew his ex was more of a shopping-all-day type of girl? Or why would he booked a trip months in the future knowing his ex still keep in touch with her previous boyfriend? What the fuck was he thinking at that time?

Whenever I asked him about that, he'd answer with, "I really thought I can change her."

No, you don't?! Hello?!

My God ... and I had to replace her ex whenever that happened. Yes. It didn't happen once. It happened over and over again. I became his heartbroken escape he could rely on since our mom would still force me to go even when I said no and busy.

Staycation with my bro? I've done it before. A trip to Jeju with my bro? Oh ... hell yes, we did.

He became super random when he just broke up. He once bought a whole fishing equipment before we went to Jeju, saying he'd find fish in the sea because that what her ex said to him.

✨️There's plenty of fish in the sea. You'll find someone better than I am✨️

I swear to God I still remember him climbing through Yongduam's Dragon Head Rock while cursing her ex out loud. That was one of the best version of Heartbroken Jaehyun because he wasn't crying sad or appear fatigue like he always did. He was mad MAD.

“Look?! You said there was plenty fishes out there. I’ve come to the seashore and I catch none!” he screamed his lungs out while carrying an empty bucket which he threw away right in front of me. He then sat down next to me and kicked the sand out of madness.

“At least use your brain a little. If you were a fish, will you live peacefully within the beach waves near these giant rock? I guess you could ruin your brain by hitting your goddamn head over the rock every hour in your life,” I replied. He glared at me before he hissed.

“Fish could swim better than us human, you dumbass, and waves only works on the surface … down there should’ve been peace and quiet,” he stated, still with a bit of anger on his tone. I laughed immediately. I thought he lost his mind so much that I could just lie about everything. After a moment of silence, he added, “Well, maybe if we dive, we could actually find fishes.”

“Do you want to dive tomorrow?” I asked. He nodded heavily followed with a blank stare. Then he said, “But we have no clothes for diving. Not even preparing an extra underwear for that.”

“Geez, we’re in Jeju, not in the middle of the sea. We’ll find a supermarket and buy extra undies later,” I answered while punching his arm. His face suddenly lit up as he smiled.

“Our parents definitely knew what they were doin’ when they have you.” Out of nowhere, he threw a compliment as he stood up. Then he lent his hand to help me standing up before he brought the bucket and the entire fishing equipment inside. Later he walked passionately before me as if he was never complaining about how shitty his life were. I followed him as I sighed and shook my head in disbelief.

We walked pass the seashore without any conversation. Once in a while, the water hit our legs. Sometimes it felt like a sudden flood which made our pants wet. But we were at the beach and we expected that anyway. The one that was surprising for my brother was when his sandals got trapped in the sand. At the same time, the waves took it away. So, I witnessed him trying to catch his sandals back to the sea. He were shouting, “No!” as he ran faster than the wave.

After he got his sandals back, he decided to walk barefoot. So he put his sandals inside the bucket along with his fishing equipments and continue walking. Just when I thought he forgot my existence, he stopped before a big rock and let me walk first. He also lent his hand while whispering, “Watch your step.”

“Bro,” I called as we reached the end of the big rock pathway. He hummed and raised an eyebrow as a response. I continued, “I just remember that I never dive before.”

“Same,” he replied then chuckled. I have no idea but when he admit the things he never done before, it kind of relieving for me. I feel like being incompetence is normal and that is okay to not master everything. I embraced his waist and put my head over his shoulder as we walk side-by-side.

“This might sounds evil but I’m glad that you broke up with her,” I stated. He linked his arms on mine and intentionally bumped his head on mine before asking, “Why?”

“She controlled you … so inhumanly. I hate it when things got awkward between us—“

“That happened? I didn’t even realize,” he cut my words and I nodded.

“Of course you didn’t. You were blindly in love! But I get it, she’s pretty, charming, and everything. But she’s so fucking insecure that she decided to gate keep you away from everyone including your own family,” I replied. He smiled and nodded, meaning that he actually agree with what I just stated.

“I did try to not exclude my life before her—“

“I know … I could feel that recently. I guess … two months before you broke up, you’ve return into The Jung Jaehyun I’ve known,” I said. He looked at me with a weird glance but then he laughed. Then I added, “I mean … you know … you were like … sorry, she ask me to accompany her … or something like … I don’t think I can drive you to the school. Gosh, I hate that bitch, honestly. Sorry, I tried to like her when you dated her. But now … I don’t think I can.”

“You don’t have to. Whatever it was between us, it’s over,” he replied. So I asked, “You sure about that?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why were you shouting this and that in front of those hidden fishes before?” I asked another question. He shook his head as he chuckled. He took a deep breath before answered, “That’s because I was mad like hell. Partly because I feel like I should’ve done it long before last week.”

“The breaking up, you mean?” He responded my question with a nod. I caught his eyes looking through my eyes. I could feel sorrow and anger in him but his silliness still dominated his aura. So I laughed instead of sympathizing his bad days. But he took it with a grain of salt and pinched my nose jokingly.

Fast forward, we bought extra undies, flower themed t-shirts which was an impulsive buying (I got yellow-green and he got purple-pink), and a big bag of snacks. The day after, we went diving. He got headache from not being able to adapt with the tension underwater. Then asked me to massage his head, which I did because I am world's greatest sister.

Months later, he fully healed his soul and started a new relationship with another person, which by the way, crashed exactly eight months later. How foolish. I had to see him having another full cycle of failed romance relationship.

This time, the girl admitted that she was cheating and asked him to end their relationship. She went back to her ex-boyfriend and abandoned my brother when he already book a villa for their staycation agenda. That bitch literally got me raging for a week. Because of her, his surprise plan for their staycation had cancelled. Yet he could not refund his booking so he begged me to keep it as a secret and asked me to accompany him. Again.

I almost refused his offer had he did not show up in front of my room wearing a black suit with loosened tie and white shirt with few top buttons unbuttoned. He looked so desperate that I could literally saw dried tears over his pinkish cheeks. Something bad truly happened during their dinner and he could not handle the emotional damage caused by the breaking up. That was the worst heart break he ever had in his entire life.

“Don’t tell mom that I just broke up. Not yet. I’m not ready,” he whispered that night. He sat on a small couch, hugging his legs and stared emptily at the ceiling. I had my eyes locked at him and saw his expression transformed from trying too hard to stay strong until he finally bursted in tears. He cried quietly and suddenly I was as broken as he was. I remembered I had to witness him shattered in pieces for an half hour before his tears stopped completely.

Compared with his previous toxic ex-girlfriend, this one was a complete different. Even our mother liked her that she kept asking about her, not knowing the fact that my brother were no longer in relationship with her. There were days when I had to secretly hug him at midnight when I heard him sobbing during his sleep. There were days when he kept losing his games and reacted with nothing, which was very unlikely. At his worst, he even pretended to finish his meal in front of our parents when we had family dinner outside, but threw up right after. I was there. I have seen it all.

A day after, we went for the staycation. He used his own saving to pay the villa so I used mine to buy food and beverages. I brought a lot of canned beer since that might be the only time we were far from our parents while staying within the same city. We ate grilled beef and drank a little. No, actually he drank quite a lot that he lost conscious that night.

He started rambling about exam college after finishing two cans. Then he poured his feeling into words through shouts and whispers. He rolled himself on the sofa and fell down. He cried and complained about how solid the floor was.

“Holy fuck, why is this floor hurting me so much?!” he asked as he punched the floor. I had to held his hands to stop him from hurting himself even more.

"Stop."

"Please, stop."

"Jaehyun!"

He raised his head and locked his eyes on me before he moaned, "Hmm?"

“Don’t talk to me like that,” I demanded. He looked at me with a soft smile before untie my hair. I tried to grab my hair tie but he threw it instead. I could not help but to sigh since I guessed he had mistaken me as his ex-girlfriend.

“I thought you mean it when you say we meant to be together,” he implied. He looked down and sobbed immediately. At that point, my brother was already completely drunk and lost himself away from his own sanity. Meanwhile, I could only keep myself conscious and quiet. I had no idea how to drag my brother away from her shadow. He fell way too deep that I was not able to reach him anymore.

“She doesn’t have to be your everything for you to be whole, Brother,” I uttered. He did not respond at all. For a moment, I could only hear his painful crying which had been my evening melody for the past few weeks anyway.

“It hurts me … so much! Especially when you say stuff about the future where I’ll spend my life with you and you think that’s going to validate your reason for neglecting my sister?” He suddenly looked up and glared at me sharp. I was out of words. I had no idea what to respond as it was not meant for me in the first place. At the same time, I did not expect whatever he just said.

“If you use your fucking brain for once, you should’ve known that now I have you and my sister. Yes, you could rely yourself on me. I’ll help you whenever I can, but so is my sister … and I have no plan on abandoning her for you, unless I’m sure who’s that other guy she’s relying on … which is not going to happen in a night,” he yelled while grabbing both of my arms tight. He then flicked his fingers right in front of my face at the end of his sentences. I gulped. How could he defended my ass even when he was drunk?

“Losing you is an option I’ve always consider. But losing my sister … when I was the one who wants her … not in a chance,” he whispered as he placed his forehead on my shoulder. Then he linked his arms on me and embraced me in warmness. He then added, “I actually don’t mind with you saying shit about me to everyone. Even when people know the story … only from your side, about you dumping me to get back on your ex, I’m quite chill. But saying my sister’s toxic and that she’s the one who ruin our relationship … Gosh, back off!”

“She helped me choose your birthday present, even when she know you’re not being nice to her. What do you mean she’s evil?” he continued, raising his tone as if he was angry with his ex. But, it was just me that was listening to everything he said, his literal sister. Later, he stopped rambling and started sobbing instead. I have no idea why in the world a guy as big as he is would cry like a toddler craving for a balloon. I could not help but to chuckled as his sobs were getting wild. Days before, he would cry in silence and I thought he was dumped. However that day, I found out that he was the one who dumped her and I was part of the reason why he did so. I found every fact while he lost control and embarrass himself. Well, I guess I was lucky.

That day, I thanked him for being such an amazing brother. Thank you for saying that I am not an evil person when I actually recorded him crying on my phone and kept it as an lifetime coupon I could redeem at anytime. A blackmail, he would call it as.

The next morning, he could not recall his memories when he was drunk and I decided to not tell him the truth. After those conversation, I actually put him on the sofa covered with a blanket. But when I woke up, he was already on the floor with his face kissed the floor, drooling disgustingly. I covered his face with a blanket, hoping he would wake up from the suffocation. Then I cooked a simple dish for breakfast, Spaghetti Aglio Olio.

Later I heard him shouted, “Why did you let me sleep on the floor?”

“You literally move there by yourself. I thought you fell in love with the floor,” I answered, shouting back at my brother. He gasped and threw his face away from me. Yet he took a plate and filled it with the spaghetti then mumbled, “It was a one night stand.”

“Silly,” I mocked. He bumped his shoulder to my back then started to eat while walking towards the living room. I joined him eating in the living room right away. That morning, we watched a replayed badminton match on television.

“What happened last night?” he suddenly asked as he chewed his meal. I shook my head slowly then replied, “I said nothing. You really don’t remember anything, huh? What was your last memory?”

“We ate beef. Then what?” he answered. My jaw dropped as if I just knew how low his alcohol-tolerance is. He pinched some of my hair and hissed. Then I shouted, “Fuck!”

“Tell me now!”

“Nothing happened! Oh my … bitch, stop pulling my hair!” I grabbed his wrist even though I knew I would never free myself from his grip. I was struggling while he peacefully drank a glass of water.

“I’ll make you bald if you don’t tell me anything,” he threatened. But I knew he never meant any of it, so I pulled his hand away then replied, “I’ll use wig for the rest of my life. Not a big deal.”

“Shit.” He suddenly stood up. I followed him standing up and ran for my own’s sake. Yet he did not attack me like he usually do. He just went to the kitchen and washed the plate on the sink.

“I’m not in a mood to do that, my body’s aching like hell,” he said. I sighed as I finished my spaghetti. I joined him washing dishes as I said, “You’re planning to ruin yourself, don’t you?”

“I have to,” he answered then glanced at me for a while. “She consumed so much of my time and I’m so disappointed—“

“Whoa whoa whoa—“

“In myself,” he finished his words, although I cut him beforehand. It felt like an anticlimax. I raised an eyebrow out of confusion. “Frankly honest, I knew it’ll happen. We were close because we had time talking about our ex. But it was … well … different. I had enough of that girl, but she wasn’t. Yet I’m still forcing myself to start the relationship. Silly me,” he added.

“Yeah … silly you,” I confronted him while splashed him water. He sighed and glared sharp. I tried to make him less mad by asking, “So, you were crying every night because …?”

“Not every night, come on!” he protested as I chuckled. He grabbed my shoulder and I knew exactly that it was my time to run. So then it started, the Tom-and-Jerry routine this morning by chasing each other. It was super tiring that we lost our breath countlessly.

“Alright, enough running. I wanna do badminton,” he shouted from outside the room. I, who was hiding behind the curtain, then shouted back, “Me too!“

He watched me coming out of the door with a pokerface while I was smiling wide. He pretended to threw a fist on me as I walked pass him. Then he smacked my head playfully before he stroked my hair.

We ended up playing five rounds of badminton until the sun got higher. Ever since that day, he stopped dating anybody. He decided to find his zen and lowkey rejected everyone who wanted to get to know him. Couple times I’d advise him to not be harsh on himself and stop trying to be solitude. But if that kind of life comforts him, I eventually supported every of his move. I tried, at least. Yet there were times when he needed me to be his fake girlfriend. So he would asked something like, “They force me to come to this party because they always see me alone, thinking it would be great for me to socialize. But I don’t want to. So, help me. Come with me so that I can reject their invitation next time.”

“Son of a bitch,” I’d always answered him with.