#GAME JUST TELL ME WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE SO I CAN DRAW HIM GODDAMN

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei - perfect match

a/n: watch me suddenly appear out of nowhere after the school year has finally ended to post something!! i'm sure absolutely no one is surprised that tsukishima is the centre of this fic, but tbh idk how to feel about it (it's definitely longer than my usual ones but i didn't proofread it, so idk if the lenght is an advantage or not) but i hope you'll like it ^^ with school being over for the next two months i'll finally have time to write, so expect more works soon!!

summary: you and tsukishima decide to help your friends get together, but the plan is long forgotten when you realize what your own feelings are.

warnings: nothing really, canon yamayachi (my loves), some light swearing, bad writing

tsukishima kei did not expect any of his friends to bother him in the middle of the night. hell, he didn't even expect any of them to disturb his alone time at all. and yet at exactly 2.34 in the morning, right as he was about to turn off his currently binge watched tv show and go to sleep, he felt his phone buzzing on the nightstand. 

his eyes focused on your name, written in white font on his phone screen, surely shocked by the sight.

'why are you calling me at 2 in the goddamn morni-'

'is yamaguchi interested in anyone?'

your question caught him off-guard even more than the call itself, his brows furrowing in a weirded-out look. 

'if you're asking for yourself, i'm positive that he is not interested.' 

tsukishima heard a sigh of annoyance on the other side of the call and could only imagine the exact look on your face in this very moment. 

'well, thank god, because i'm not asking for myself.' you said. there were muffled sounds of someone preparing food in the background. 'i'm asking for yachi.'

the blonde boy smiled unconsciously.

'he does like her.' the boy stated, turning off his laptop as he put it back on the desk. 'so much so, in fact, that it can be kind of annoying sometimes.'

you squealed with excitement, a giggle leaving your mouth at tsukishima's remark. 

'perfect! now, listen carefully.'

that singular phone call created an alliance between you and kei. an alliance with only one goal; getting your two best friends to finally confess to each other. to both of you, it was almost infuriating how blind they were; how they didn't notice just how obvious it was that they both shared the same feeling. constant blushing at as little as a mention of the other's name, the stolen glances, the very obvious pining - all of it seemed to be non-existent in the eyes of both yamaguchi and yachi.

but lucky for them, you had a plan.

his eyes lingered on you for a few seconds, as if awaiting a sign from you. tsukishima still thought of your 'master plan' as rather silly, but seeing the determination on your face, and the frown that appeared when he called your idea stupid was enough for him to sigh and go with it this once.

the four of you were currently occupied with studying for a math test coming up next week, everyone nose deep in their notebooks. well, everyone except for kei.

the boy cleared his throat almost theatrically, drawing the attention of the three of you.

'yamaguchi, i think i'll have to pass on the movies this weekend.' he said, the tone of his voice as lifeless as ever. 'akiteru insisted that i go to one of his games, so i guess you'll have to take someone else.'

the freckled boy looked a little troubled upon hearing the information. both you and tsukishima were well aware that the tickets to the cinema were already paid for; yamaguchi would definitely be sad if it all went to waste. 

'well, i guess i can ask hina-'

'yachi, didn't you tell me last week that you wanted to go to the movies with someone?' you barged in before the boy could even finish his sentence, your friend freezing in her spot at the mention of a conversation you had not that long ago, cheeks flushed pink at the mere thought of going somewhere with yamaguchi one-on-one. 'maybe you'd fill in for tsukki?' 

the girl glanced at you, panic in her eyes as an awkward silence filled the room, everyone waiting for her to answer. you gave her an encouraging smile, as if trying to non-verbally tell her to go for it, to use this as a chance to get closer to the boy she liked for so long. 

'if yamaguchi doesn't mind...' she mumbled quietly, head turning to face the boy who was already shaking his head. 

'of course i don't.' yamaguchi smiled, his small dimples showing up in the process. 

you glanced over to look at tsukishima, a triumphant smile on your face as if you just won a volleyball tournament. his hair was slightly messy, and his glasses were sliding off his nose, two of the top buttons on his school uniform unbuttoned, showing a bit of his collarbones. surprisingly enough, the blonde boy smiled back; a small, quick smile that your eyes barely noticed. you had no idea what it was, but something about that singular smile made your heart beat faster. 

don't. the main focus of this entire thing is to get yachi and yamaguchi together. not to think of tsukishima and how attractive he looks- 

shit.

developing a crush on tsukishima kei was certainly not part of your plan. 

at first, you tried ignoring it as much as you could, focusing solely on your friends and getting them to date. as time went on and yamaguchi and yachi started getting closer, you almost felt a sense of relief - you could finally stop spending so much time around tsukishima, which made your chances of getting over your stupid crush higher. 

but it wasn't as easy as you thought. tsukishima was intelligent, pretty, and his snarky remarks and judgy personality actually drew you to him even more with each passing day. through the countless conversations and numerous phone calls, he proved himself to be more than just a salty, mean guy that everyone viewed him as.

'soon enough, they won't even need our help.' you mumbled to yourself as you opened your bento box, a smile on your face as you noticed your mom homemade onigiri inside. 'i don't know what i'll do with myself then.'

tsukishima scoffed, closing the textbook in front of him.

'maybe start focusing on your own love life for once.'

'hey! it's not my fault that i'm a good friend.' you stated, mouth full of food, as you looked up at your friend sitting on the opposite side of the table, looking through the tasks assigned for next week. 'besides, it's not like i'm the only one.'

tsukishima adjusted his glasses, looking up at you for a mere second before focusing back on his notebook.

'touché.'

'oh, come on.' you whined out, dissatisfied with the lack of response from the blonde boy. 'you won't miss this even a little bit?'

alright, maybe just a bit-

'no.' tsukishima stated firmly, fixing his posture as he highlighted one of the important sentences written down. you heard a bit of hesitation in his voice, and the few seconds of silence before hearing an answer couldn't help but make you wonder. you decided to ignore it this time - he was focused on something else right now, there was no need to disturb him. 

'do you think yachi will like my outfit?'

tsukishima was sitting at the edge of his best friend's bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and occasionally looking up to see the twelfth - no, thirteenth shirt that yamaguchi has tried on already. the boy sighed, turning his device off. 

'it's your first official date, i'm sure she doesn't mind what you wear.' he stated, gaining a frown from yamaguchi.

'you didn't answer my question.'

'alright, i think she'll like it.' the blonde haired boy said, reaching out for a bag of chips, opening it with a loud sound. 'but i'm sure she'll focus more on the date itself rather than what you're wearing.'

ever since announcing to their friends that they're going on their first official date, both yamaguchi and yachi were full of stress, constantly overthinking every little detail from their outfit to whether or not the date will go well or not. tsukishima found it rather comical - it was only a date after all. why stress over it so much? he never went on one, obviously, but he always thought that when the day came, he'd approach it calmly.

'do you have any tips on how to not freak out?' yamaguchi asked suddenly, catching his friend off-guard. 'during the date, i mean.'

'how can i know? i've never gone on one.'

the freckled boy looked at tsukishima, a confused expression on his face as he processed his words.

'oh.' he paused for a second, his voice quieter when he continued speaking. 'i thought you and y/n were, you know, a thing.'

huh?

to say tsukishima was shocked was an understatement. he genuinely had no idea what to say; he never even let a thought of you and him being more than friends, 'partners in crime', as you loved to say, slip through his mind. never did it occur to him that someone from the outside would see your relationship as being something more than a merely platonic one. 

well, maybe there was something to it after all. 

yamaguchi's words made him wonder - although he did find you annoying at times, it was only occasionally and to a very little degree. that in itself was very rare in tsukishima's eyes, as he found most of the people surrounding him at least normally annoying. you, on the other hand, were a completely different case. your jokes, no matter how awkward or downright cringe, made him crack a silent laugh more often than not, and every time he saw you smile, his lips uncontrollably curved up into a small, barely noticeable one themselves. 

'oh, no, absolutely not.' the blonde blurted out after a long minute of silence, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of red. 'there is not a single bone in my body that would want to date her. now get up idiot, or you'll be late to your date.'

the moment tsukishima opened his bedroom, after walking his friend to the bus stop, he immediately plopped down on his bed, phone in hand, instinctively opening messages to write to you. surprisingly enough, a message was already waiting for him.

'yachi almost cried because of how stressed she is T-T'

'do you think we should spy on them to make sure it all goes well?'

he found himself smiling at the words on his phone screen, quickly typing back an answer. 

'do you really not have a life of your own?'

'idiot.'

only after a few minutes did he get a response from you.

'can i come over?? i'm bored :33'

a harmless message, one might think. in reality, tsukishima was freaking out at the mere thought of hanging out with you for a reason other than setting up your friends, his cheeks a light shade of pink as his eyes kept digging a hole through his phone. 

you weren't any better than him - hands slightly shaky as you awaited a response for what felt like hours, but was actually just a few minutes. you had no idea what took over you; was it a sudden wave of bravery or rather an idiotic spontaneous choice to ask tsukishima that. but nonetheless, when you finally got the response, you felt ecstatic.

'alright.'

'bring some snacks.'

'kei, i think yamaguchi is he- oh, that's certainly a new face.'

you stood in front of the door with an awkward smile, facing tsukishima's older brother, akiteru, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. to say he was surprised was an understatement - he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. as if a friend that's not yamaguchi coming over to tsukishima's house was so out of the ordinary that it could become a national holiday. 

'come in.' the younger male appeared in the back of the hall, an oversized dinosaur shirt and shorts on. his expression was softer than usual; not until he looked at his brother, whom he gave a sharp stare, signaling him to let you inside and don't make such a fuss about it. 

you sat down on his bed, awkward silence filling up the room. not wanting to make the conversation about your friends as per usual, you slowly realized you don't know what to talk about, trying to think of something, anything, as you began unpacking your bag filled with snacks. 

surprisingly enough, it was tsukishima who spoke up first. 

'wanna watch a movie?' he asked, opening his drawer to pull out two bottles of soda, hidden there so that his brother doesn't devour all of them. 'unless it'll make you even more bored than you were before.'

'well, if you have a boring taste in movies-' 

'says the one who looks like their favorite movie is mamma mia.' tsukishima scoffed under his breath, turning his laptop on and starting to search up movies. you looked at him, a dramatic expression as you pretended to be offended. 

'and you look like you're about to mansplain the godfather to me.' 

a short silence filled the room before you heard the blonde boy let out a short, muffled laugh at your comment. 

'you couldn't be more wrong.' he sat down next to you, a small smile still on his face. 'i found it kind of boring, actually.'

'what do you like, then?'

'horror movies.' tsukishima stated, eyes focused on the screen. 'but tadashi gets easily scared, so i often don't have a chance to watch them.'

'same with me and yachi.' you said, unconsciously scooping a bit closer to the boy as you tried to get a better look at what he was searching up. 'i love them, but yachi jumps at every small scare on the screen. sometimes, she even gets scared when there's nothing happening at all.'

'they really do match each other.' he mumbled, putting the laptop on the bed as he pressed play on a movie he chose. his eyes quickly glanced your way to get a nod of approval on his choice.

'yeah, they do.'

and we could, too.

'are you and tsukishima dating?'

you almost spat out your drink, the words coming out of hinata's mouth catching you so off-guard you were close to choking. 

the three of you, along with kageyama, were currently cleaning up after volleyball practice, the boys racing on who would clean more balls off of the floor.

'no, we're not.' you said in a clearly sad tone with an obvious hint of dissatisfaction in your voice. 'what the hell made you think that way?'

the orange haired boy stopped in his tracks, his signature smile disappearing for a minute as he got lost in his own thoughts. 

'oh! i remember now.' he said after a short while, his grin coming back. 'yamaguchi told me that you two are close.'

'he did also mention that he seems happier around you.' kageyama added, joining the conversation. 'seeing tsukishima happy must be pretty scary.'

not really, you thought. but at the same time, what confused you more was what kageyama said right before. 

he seems happier around you.

yamaguchi has been kei's friend for the longest time, so any of his observations must be true, or at least that's what you liked to believe. but would that mean that tsukishima kei, the salty, closed-off guy whom everyone finds intimidating could possibly like you? was there truly a possibility that he enjoyed spending time with you? 

as you finished cleaning up the hall, saying your goodbyes to your two friends who ran off to practice volleyball somewhere else, a familiar, tall figure appeared in the doorframe, sharp eyes staring at you with an expression that you couldn't exactly decipher. 

'want me to walk you home?' he asked, hands in his pockets. 'it's getting late.'

you looked at him, trying to hide the blush creeping up onto your cheeks before quickly nodding as an answer.

'sure, let's go.'

most of the walk was filled with silence on both parts, exactly as you expected. even though it might've felt awkward for some, you did enjoy his presence in itself enough that a conversation wasn't necessary. 

the boy stopped in his tracks mid-way, reaching into his backpack and pulling out his phone and an old pair of white, wired earphones, showing them to you as a silent question of whether you wanted to listen to music with him or not. you agreed without a second thought, a small smile on your face as he put on one of his playlists. 

'i really like this song.' you mumbled, eyes lighting up upon hearing the familiar melody. with both of you wearing the same set of headphones right now, you were practically forced to walk closer to each other - hands constantly brushing against one another, a faint blush on your face as you tried to ignore it and focus on the music. 

tsukishima, on the other hand, couldn't shake away the thoughts roaming around his head. he felt as if what he was doing now was incredibly unlike him; and maybe it was. but for some reason, he didn't mind being like this around you. less cocky, sarcastic, mean and more... gentle.

he could feel his fingers brushing against yours from time to time, and it drove him crazy. should he go for it and play it off nonchalantly, or just ignore it? should he even make the first move or wait for you to do it?

before he was able to decide, tsukishima felt your hand reaching for his, heart rate immediately speeding up as your fingers shyly intertwined with his, looking the other way to hide your anxious expression.

his hand was much bigger than yours, but somehow it fit perfectly with yours. as if they were created solely to hold one another and nothing else. the plan to get your friends to be together was long forgotten by now - your mind was clouded with thoughts of tsukishima only, and little did you know that his wasn't any different. 

you glanced his way only to find his eyes already on you, hiding his true feelings behind a nonchalant look. only now did you notice that the two of you were standing in front of your house, the boy adjusting his glasses as he waited to see what you'll do next. 

'i guess i should go home now.' you mumbled, but you still didn't move an inch, hand not leaving his. 'see you tomorrow?'

his hand squeezed yours tightly before taking it away, an unusually warm and welcoming smile on his face. 

'sure. see you tomorrow, idiot.'

but as you slowly made your way towards the door, tsukishima couldn't shake away the feeling in him, telling him to go for it. and as much as he tried to resist it, he just couldn't anymore. 

'wait.’

before you could fully turn away, tsukishima kei's lips were already on yours, a sweet, long kiss that felt as if he was waiting to do it for years. his hand traveled to your waist and it didn't take long for you to react; lips moving swiftly with his, noses bumping into one another before you pulled away, a giggle escaping your mouth as you saw just how red tsukishima's face was.

‘don't laugh at me, moron.’ he said, immediately catching the reason for your laughter as he flicked you in the forehead. ‘your whole face is red, too.’

‘i didn't expect you to do this.’ you mumbled, eyes focused on his as you reached to hold his hand again. ‘didn't expect my feelings to be mutual, either.’

‘i'm glad we feel the same.’ his face leaned in closer to yours, a wave of confidence taking over him as he placed a short kiss on your forehead. ‘but i would still prefer to properly ask you out. if you'd say yes, that is.’ 

‘of course i would.’ you smiled, ‘i'd be stupid not to.’

‘should we bet on how long it takes the others to realize we're dating now?’ tsukishima smiled at you, eyes not leaving yours for even a spare second. you laughed at his idea, giving his hand a squeeze. 

‘get ready to lose, kei.’

‘you wish.’

taglist: @moonswolfie

[lunememes]

🌙 * ― 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐓 ( a collection of sentence starters from season one of amazon's fallout show. feel free to adjust the wording and pronouns as needed! do not add to the list. )

❛  and in that respect, he could be a cannibal or just like, crammed full of tumours. ❜ ❛  flesh is weak but steel endures. ❜ ❛  unless you know what to find and preserve, you're more useful as a corpse. ❜ ❛  how do we know they're not feral? ❜ ❛  well what makes you think i give a good goddamn about that? ❜ ❛  well what the fuck would you know 'bout where i'm from? ❜ ❛  but for me, well, i do this shit for the love of the game. ❜ ❛  you come from a place of rules, of laws. this place is indifferent to all of that. ❜ ❛  question is, will you still want the same things when you have become a different animal altogether? ❜ ❛  you earn the suit through acts of bravery. this is an act of bravery. ❜ ❛  and i'm telling you you're gonna go through a whole lot worse if you stay 'round here. trust me. ❜ ❛  clean hair. nice teeth. and all ten fingers. must be nice. ❜ ❛  the vaults were nothing more than a hole in the ground for rich folks to hide in while the rest of the world burned. ❜ ❛  you know your kind ain't welcome here. ❜ ❛  you gotta be fucking kidding me. ❜ ❛  you'll be lucky if you can make it to fucking breakfast. ❜ ❛  i'm sorry for yellin', been shot in the leg. ❜ ❛  do you have anyone else you can trust in this town? ❜ ❛  do i really have to kill him? ❜ ❛  well, if you like the taste of lavender, why not just drink a bottle of perfume? ❜ ❛  that's the worst thing i've ever put in my mouth. that's horrible. ❜ ❛  do unto others as you would have done unto you. ❜ ❛  thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time. ❜ ❛  water water everywhere, and not a drop to drink. ❜ ❛  where do you think you're going? you ain't going nowhere. ❜ ❛  there you are, you little killer. ❜ ❛  no! what a disgusting idea. i'm simply going to harvest your organs. ❜ ❛  i may end up looking like you, but i'll never be like you. ❜ ❛  i really wanna believe you but practically every person i've met up here has tried to kill me. ❜ ❛  listen, hey. you don't get this medicine, you're gonna pass out, okay? and if you lose consciousness, we're both gonna die. ❜ ❛  i've seen these in old engineering manuals but never in real life. ❜ ❛  now, seeing as everyone on earth seems to be after that thing, i'm guessing that's what you're looking for too? ❜ ❛  and you could've killed me when i collapsed back there and you didn't. ❜ ❛  i get that trust doesn't come easily up here. but you can trust me. ❜ ❛  i hate it up here. ❜ ❛  the things i'm willing to do for you never cease to amaze me. ❜ ❛  hey, hey, hey. come here. i'm sorry. i know you always try to do the right thing. that's what i love about you. ❜ ❛  trust doesn't come easily to those of us with a guilty conscience. ❜ ❛  in my experience, the apple tends not to fall too far from the tree. is that true in your case? ❜ ❛  these people are hiding something from us, and i'm gonna prove it to you, okay? ❜ ❛  there's always some new little faction, ain't there? brand new team of believers with their own dumbass ideas about how they gonna save the world. ❜ ❛  so what d'you think [name]? am i really walking out of here today, or are you gonna try and draw on me for what i did? ❜ ❛  a good bad guy doesn't see themselves as the bad guy. ❜ ❛  and yet power is taken, not given. a lesson you seem to have learned. ❜ ❛  war never changes. ❜ ❛  you look out at this wasteland, looks like chaos. but there's always somebody behind the wheel. and that's who i wanna talk to. ❜ ❛  maybe you can stop them. maybe you can't. maybe all you can do is try. ❜

[helsensm]

I cannot hold it in anymore I am absolutely OBSESSED with your art and the way you draw Lao.

I also would like to inquire….. just perhaps… what are your top head-canons for him, and/or your opinions on popular ships for him/which ones you like?

No pressure!! I hope you are having a wonderful day 🧡

me, trying to act normal every time an awesome artist I look up to says something nice about my art

Thank you so much! first of all, please take this Lao with you, he's yours now~

now let me preheat my bad english.....

Most of my Lao headcanons (if they are not related to a particular art I made) were yoinked from another ppl, because DAMN FELLAS your brains are sexy. 😏 So you might have heard some of them already, but here's my top general hcs for him.

NOTE: we are talking about the current timeline mk1 Kung Lao

- Lao is very expressive with his hands and he's THE TOUCH person. Just look at how many times he took Raiden by the shoulder in the first chapter alone?? He'll be pushing, and patting, and shoving, and punching you all over while telling about his breakfast or something.

- Lao is struggling with inferiority complex. Since childhood he was under a tremendous amount of pressure, he has to do things right, to be better, or else he would be mocked or punished. Now he believes that he should be the best, or he would not be taken seriously. He's constantly seeking validation in his peers, causing him to act cocky and over-confident.

- Anger issues, usually when someone questions his skill.

- People call him lazy because he tries to act like everything comes naturally to him. In reality he trains hard and takes things seriously. Like, he's fighting with a RAZOR RIMMED HAT fgs, it's not something you can master in a day! Also he always got energy running through his veins, lucky bastard... *cries in iron deficiency*

- He makes his hats by himself. With his hands. He designs and creates. ALL of them. I will die on that hill.

- He's a slow to trust, but ride or die as a friend.

- He's a trouble maker FOR SURE, but not a bully. He's respectful and polite to most of the people (if they don't provoke him), also drinks his respect-women juice.

- Master of sass and sarcasm. And yes, I think he swears, but in the right circumstances or the right company.

- He's got rizz NOW, but in his teens he had zero game because he could not keep his mouth shut and would scare off the person with the most ridiculous piece of idiocy.

- I read it in one fic and really loved the idea that Liu Kang "told the blossoms" about Kung Lao, and they really liked him 🌸 so now they are following him around and bringing him news and gossips, that's why there's always those goddamn petals aroung him aasghGHHHj 🌸🌸

- He's rolling his eyes at Johnny, but they quickly become besties.

- He actually has a cold relationship with Liu Kang. Don't get me wrong, he trusts him, respects the hell out of him and will run into a wall for a man. But I think Liu will distance himself because of all the memories of HIS Lao and how badly they sting. oTL

- That smile and a bow Lao did after loosing to Raiden? He meant that. Loosing hurted BAD, but the pain was pushed aside by the sence of pride and happiness for his best friend.

oh shit, this is getting out of hand, I'm starting to think about the other timelines and dynamics, we'll be here all week hhhhgh

About the popular ships... Well, I'm a big fan of railao (yeah NO SHIT who would have thought), but I am a multishipper, so I'm just happy to see my fav characters feeling good in someone's hands. 😊

I really like the liulao and laoliutana for several different reasons. 👀 The johnshilao (or is it laojohnshi..? erm) was the one that didn't impress me at first (love the Lao just third-wheeling with a tired expression <:'D), but recently I'm starting to warm up to all the different dynamics these three can have. And that is, in no small part, thanks to you and your kenlao agenda 👀💖 damn you created such a nice cozy universe for them I'm 🥺💕💗💖

Bi-Han/Lao is a bit random, but I love how catto did them, they are such a cute pair of assholes! >:3

ummm, yeah, so I'm going to stop there ahahhH. Thank you again for asking and for all the nice little feels your art provides, I admire you tremendously~

[artmunstudios]

Lies of P Character Analysis: P and Carlo

Spoilers for the ending of the game lie ahead under the cut!

I have been seeing a lot of people refer to P as Carlo, specifically in the Rise of P ending, and I think it is very important to think about this fact, because it kind of goes hand in hand with the themes of the game overall. And on top of that, it's important for when making theories too!

P isn’t Carlo—he never was, and won’t ever be no matter what ending you get. Not even the Nameless Puppet is really Carlo. (His corpse maybe which is,,,,, so fucked)

I'm kinda driving this home, because I think it is really important to understand the difference between P and Carlo, because despite Geppetto claiming that P inherited his personality instead of the memories, they clearly are very different people, and that is solely because of their environments.

He’s much more like a reflection of Carlo, if he was raised in a more loving/nurturing environment. P is a Carlo that isn’t solely filled with nothing but spite and anger towards his father that literally abandoned and clearly even resented him. Compare this to the people around P at the home he knew, Hotel Krat.

Sofia— Never once really says a bad word to P. Not even in the bad ending. She is that gentle guide that, despite claiming to have awakened P for selfish reasons, acts entirely selfless and is willing for her freedom to be put on hold to help P in aiding in lessening the damage in Krat. She compliments him, gives encouraging words, and I would even dare to say she teaches P the value of life.

Antonia— Grandma. Of. The Year. Can we please give this classy lady of all sass and glory more than a peaceful death? Like???? I dunno, sneak her a bottle of that good wine, Tipple Lady seemed to really dig it. If she wasn't so sick I am more than certain that she would have been doting on P more than just verbally. I'm talking that kind of grandma, and you know exactly what I mean. This lady would somehow find a way for there to be ingredients for cookies because goddammit, she may be classy but I bet you any money she makes the best goddamn peanut butter cookies and YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE. Every time P would come back all dirty, he would get the scolding of a lifetime because how many times does she have to tell him to leave that dirty coat and boots at the entry and let Polendina get them for a wash— And finally, if she were well enough you know damn well P would have been even more classy than he already was with those outfits. She would spend an entire day going through wardrobes and having P try each outfit on to see what looks good, because no grandson of hers is going out in drabs she will not have it— Ahem. Er. ANywayyy...that grandma. she would be that grandma. And still kind of is, she just couldn't do much being so ill. And, kind of on the flipside, I think Antonia in a way taught P the importance of death, and how it can be drawing near, but you can still be full of hope like she was.

Polendina and Pulcinella — These two taught P a very important lesson, and even taught it to him fairly early on! Puppets are not inherently evil; in fact, they can be just as alive as any human. They both love the ones they take care of, and provide that sense of kinship that P really needed. In a way, P is biracial (racial....or...????bispecies???? I????? I don't know what to call it?????) so seeing both sides of each half in him is such a great influence, and helps him realize that he may be different to both, he can belong in both worlds.

Eugenie— Sweetie. Babygirl. Bestie. She was thrown into the position of big sister so fast she didn't even realize it until like. The end of the game, I think. That conversation about her big brother seemed to make her realize that she was a big sister to P in a way, I think. Which is why the realization about her own older sibling made things much harder, I think.

Lorenzini— An eccentric, but genuinely kind hearted man. A human, that despite everything, still treats the puppets as family. Hell, he doesn't even convinced that they are the villains, and he is the one to actually initiate the whole path to when the group discovers that Geppetto is the one behind the frenzy. 1000/10, coolest uncle; he probably will buy P so many ridiculous things the moment things have calmed down in Krat. What's that? Oh, yes you need a place to stay--HAVE A HOUSE. DO YOU WANT THE BLOCK I CAN BUY YOU A BLOCK-- (Pulcinella has to withhold finances because Lorenzini will NOT stop buying P shit, and the poor lad doesn't really have a concept of money so of course he's gonna accept it all and just say yes!) .... (The realization of P not really having a concept of currency suddenly startles me. WHAT IS HE GONNA DO WHEN KRAT IS RESTORED??? POLENDINA WHY DID YOU RESET HE NEEDS FUCKIN HELP— )

Geppetto— Ah. Yes. Rat bastard (derogatory). Deadbeat dad. Control freak. YOU. I will. Give him this, and I do genuinely mean this; despite everything he has done, and how manipulative he is, he, ironically, gave P exactly what he needed from a father in some ways. Specifically, Geppetto always reminded P that he was precious and important to him, and that he genuinely did not like sending him out into dangerous situations. Even though, it was for different reasons, and the majority of us were suspicious from the start, we have to think about it from P's perspective. Think about all the things he said to him, until the end at least. P had legitimately no reason to suspect Geppetto. In many ways, as far as P could tell, he was perfect. Encouraging, gentle, he made sure P was always in tip-top shape, and he told him that he was proud to see him fight the King of Puppets (yes it's fucked up knowing it was Romeo, Carlo's possible only friend, but again, P doesn't know that until the very end). In a way, he taught P his own worth, to the point that he valued his own individuality, and refused to give up his sense of self. And in the very end, I think Geppetto realized that P was not Carlo, but he loved him like a father, despite everything.

Gemini (I FORGOT GEMINI AND HAD TO EDIT TO ADD HIM IN CAST ME INTO THE FUCKIN FIRE I AM A FAKE PINOCCHIO LORE FANATIC) - Gemini, in my opinion, in this iteration is less of a conscious and more of a??? He's kinda like Romeo's replacement, in a way; he's P's best friend. He kinda also teaches P humor as well, which is honestly a take on the talking Cricket that is so unique. He's like that awkward teacher that is young but still a little out of touch with the generation he's teaching that it's like the equivalent of hearing your 30 something professor tell a fucking dad pun. Speaking of teaching, he teaches P a lot! Especially history, and cultural stuff for Krat; and I think that's also really important for development! And it is really sweet how he still, despite Krat being in disarray, tries to kinda give the city that sense of wonder and joy for P that maybe other tourists would have.

Now, contrast that with Carlo's life:

His father drops him off randomly at a place he doesn't know (a fucking orphanage dude, you couldn't even be fucked to ship him to a proper private school at least Geppetto?) at we can assume age 10-12, without even bothering to tell him when or if he would come back, based on that first memory we see. How many more sleeps until daddy comes back? Geppetto couldn't even be bothered to see his graduation, and he claims that he would not care if he just dropped over dead. And, I'm gonna be real, just based on the line delivery, as well as some personal experiences (get into that a little later with some dissection) I fully believe he means it. I'm gonna be real, the people who say stuff like that, specifically older kids edging adulthood, most of the time they really mean that shit. And, to make matters worse, it's not even just Geppetto that brushes him off, even people that you could argue are supposed to be mentor figures, brush him off. But we don't know enough yet about the Stalker Woman, so I won't go too deep into that. Right to his death (which we have to assume was homicide) it seemed like the entire world, but Romeo, rejected him.

In a way, it makes sense that the Nameless Puppet is just a rage-filled, calculating, killing machine when it gets P's heart. It doesn't inherit the personality, just the memories. And that, with the kind of life Carlo lived, makes for a very dangerous being.

Let's also think about what Giangio said, too. He calls P a new kind of human. P doesn't just magically get human guts and whatnot. He's not human, he's a cyborg, I suppose, but even that doesn't seem entirely right. It's just kinda as Giangio calls him; a new kind of human. I guess, if we want to get cheeky, P is a Legion Human. Carlo was human, and that's just how it was. Carlo never comes back, but the memory of him does seem to live on in P. He's like??? He starts off as a reflection, and ends up becoming a legacy to Carlo, in a way.

But there is one huge indicator yet that shows that P and Carlo are separate people.

I'm gonna be honest, and say potentially a bold take, but I genuinely don't think Carlo would have cried if he were there when Geppetto dies, I really don't. Just speaking from personal experience (yet again), I have an absentee parent that, the older I get, I kind of realized was never really in my life. Similar to Geppetto in a way, too, in the concept of wanting more of a concept rather than actually being a parent. So, just speaking from that perspective, if my absentee father who never bothered to get to know me or even cared about who I was as a person died in such a way (lowkey from his own hubris) I can't say it's realistic to think that someone with that kind of relationship would cry for that parent. Feel sad? Absolutely, it's not like you are heartless and just lose all sense of apathy for that person. But it's hard to really mourn for a stranger at worst, and a associate at best.

However, P does cry. More than that, when you see him curl over Geppetto's body in the true end, that right there, is fucking despair. Again, just kind of speaking from experience, your body does some weird shit to cope when you are upset over a death. You kinda revert back to that state of being a kid, wanting to coddle your precious thing because when you were at that age, you believed that things could be fixed with stuff like a hug, or cradling, etc. It's not a conscious thought, but that is part of the reflex. P holds Geppetto, the man that he genuinely sees as his father, close; because it's the only thing he knows what to do in that moment. If we think about Carlo and Geppetto's relationship, can we really see Carlo holding his father close like that?

TLDR: P and Carlo are two entirely different people; and it is almost solely because of the environments they were in.

[charliedaltonsentpgf]

my boyfriend charlie dalton headcanons ☀︎︎

very passionate writer- not just poetry, but letters, mini stories, etc

writes said love letters to you often

he’ll spray them with his cologne

there was only once he forgot an anniversary, and he spent the next week making it up to you

flowers every day, chocolates on your doorstep every night

likes to bring you to dead poets meetings- sometimes he’ll let you take his part in reading, just so he can hear you speak passionately

likes to draw on you, whether it be with actual pen or just his fingers

you’ll leave with either mini hearts or something very inappropriate

escapes with you to the theatre quite often

he once snuck you backstage to meet a cast you were crazy about

“this is y/n, and i know you guys are a big deal but so are they-“ “charlie!”

another time was just so he could get you alone for more than 15 minutes, doing what, he’ll never tell.

he’s very funny but you’re never the bud of his jokes

actually very cleanly and takes great care of himself

however he doesn’t want anyone to know his elaborate skincare routine

has a very hard time opening up, but once he does, it’s like it’s the easiest thing in the world for him

will do anything to see a smile from you

once jumped into a frozen over lake just to get you to laugh after a long day

he crawled out shivering, cut up a bit from clashing with the thin ice

“why the hell would you do that?!” you say between laughs

looking with a sense of longing you’d had yet to see from him, he said “you could cure the world with that laugh”

you’ve never seen him nervous- that’s not something he does

however, on the rare occasion you sense the tiniest bit of antsy-ness, you’ll grab his arm, ever so gently, and not let go

has never been rough with you in anyway, shape, or form, unless you ask for it, of course.

interlocks fingers when holding hands

has the most meaningful look to him, he doesn’t half ass anything he looks at, especially you

denied how he felt about you for a very long time

the king of avoidance on his feelings, until he met you, that is

the first time he kissed you was when he confessed he liked you

outside of the first annual ball welton academy ever hosted, you followed him outside in a rush of anger after he rejected your plea to join the dead poets for the billionth time.

“i don’t understand why you treat me like this- let me join the dead poets. you know i’m good writer and an even better poet. how much longer is it going to take for you to realize i’ve already won? and that everyone is against you on your denial to let me in? are you afraid of my talent? my wit? what? my seemingly flawless ways i’ve won everyone over except you?”

“i’m afraid of how i feel about you. i’m afraid of the dread, the longing, the space, everything. the continuous push and shove i feel inside every time i find myself enjoying your company for a little too long. I’m afraid of you. you’re my dread and desire in one goddamn place and it kills off every wall i’ve ever put up in my life”

the shock on your face was all it took. he closed the distance and within seconds, you found yourself feeling as weightless as a man on the moon.

he’s the most dedicated person you’ve ever known- surprisingly to even his studies

he hates on cameron the most, but that’s mainly because of his unrequited crush he had on him as kids

you tease him for it all the time,

“i wasn’t the one who was in love with cameron-“ “but you’re in love with me now, so who’s really losing?”

really an incredible romantic

couldn’t plan a bad date even if he tried

a very good kisser,

incorporates everything into a kiss, it’s a full out affair to him

a world class champion at rolling his eyes

very avid in helping you study

he likes to host actual study sessions for just the both of you

but when the others are invited, he always gets it done no matter what

very serious board game player,

tries to get everyone to take up a game with him but they all know how that’ll end

[atinylittlepain]

Dancing in the Dark

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

The summer of '86, a season of love, record-breaking heat, and evening softball games in one Austin neighborhood. What happens when seventeen years later, that lost love comes back around?

warnings | 18+ cursing, smut, young joel is a goddamn menace, angst, references to bad home life, gin making random things canon

wordcount | 9.8K

a/n | welcome back to Hungry Hearts, y'all. i have to thank @northernbluess for beta-reading this bad boy. love you, cousin. as always, I'd love to hear what you think of the chapter!

.......................................

“Hey, Cher, you ready to go?”

“Does it look like I’m ready to go?”

“You look ready to me.”

“Joel, I’m not wearing a shirt.”

“It’s hot out, Cherry. I’m just thinking about your well-being here.”

“How considerate of you. Just give me a minute, and be quiet before my parents hear you.” 

“Bossy, bossy.” She leaves him at her window, shuffling back over to her closet to finish getting dressed. Joel, however, doesn’t stay put for long, swinging one leg, then the other over the sill and into her room before promptly banging his forehead on the opened pane of her window, a low curse leaving his mouth before she can shush him. 

“Very smooth.”

“Yeah, well, you know me. Now c’mere.” He hooks a finger into the belt loop of her jean shorts, a little tug that she resists, and then a bigger, more impatient tug that she can’t help but shuffle into. He’s actually wearing pants tonight, tight, tight blue jeans with a t-shirt that’s had the sleeves and sides cut out, a perfect space for her palms to splay along the bare sides of his ribs when he draws her in for a kiss by the hinge of her jaw. 

“If you start now, we’re never gonna make it to the fair.” He hums at that, his eyes still intently focused on her lips.

“Hmm, would that be such a bad thing?” 

“Uh, yes, I want to see the fireworks.” She’s not sure if he really heard that, his mind seeming to go a bit one-track as he looks at her bra, his fingers brushing over the top of the cups, catching on the lace there.

“This is new.”

“No, I just haven’t worn it around you before.” 

“Well, shit, Cher, you been holding out on me?” 

“Joel.”

“Alright, alright, hands off, I’ll let you get dressed.” As she pulls a tank top over her head, she realizes that he’s never been in her room before. Not even when they were kids. She steals a glance at him as she’s tying her sneakers, and he seems to be stealing glances of his own, subtly leaning over the small desk across from her bed, his eyes trailing over the stack of books sitting there, the photos she had pinned to the wall from her last year of college. He doesn’t say anything though, a quiet collecting, so she doesn’t say anything about it either, simply clearing her throat to grab his attention when she’s ready to go.

“Try not to knock your head into the window on the way out this time.” He doesn’t, though he grumbles through the close contortion he has to manage to pop back outside, panting a little when he holds his hand out for her through the window. It’s not like they had an actual conversation about the necessity of sneaking around with each other. It was an unspoken understanding. Her parents like Joel enough, she grew up with him after all, but she’s certain they would both have aneurysms if they found out what they’ve been getting up to. And anyways, it’s just for the summer, nothing serious, a bit of fun, and Joel seems just as content with that as she is. 

“Tell me about your classes.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d bore you if I did.” 

“We’ve got a half-hour drive, Cher, try me.” The sun is just starting to set, turning the inside of his truck a hazy orange as they drive down the highway away from the suburbs and toward the Austin city limits.

“Okay, in most of them we read books, then we talk about the books, then we write papers about the books.”

“That’s it?”

“I told you it’s boring.” 

“You’re taking writing classes too though, right?” 

“Yeah, I actually won an award for a short story I did in one of them.” She feels a bit stupid sharing that with him, a bit stupid for even wanting to in the first place. But he smiles, big and bright, his eyebrows lifting up with a quick glance over to her.

“No shit, Cher, that’s awesome. I’m not surprised though.” 

“Thanks, yeah, you wanna know what my mom said when I showed her the photo of me receiving the award?” 

“What’d she say?”

“She asked if I had really been wearing my hair like that at school.” For a moment, he’s silent, and her stomach twists up, worried that she shouldn’t have shared that because, obviously, why the hell would he want to hear her bitch about her mom? 

“That’s fucking bullshit, she seriously said that?”

“Yeah.”

“Your mom was always kind of a square.”

“I’m inclined to agree.” 

“You remember when I got gum stuck to your skirt in Sunday school?”

“Oh my god, she was so mad.” 

“She’s got that vein, right down the middle of her forehead, you know?”

“Oh yeah, I’m very familiar with that vein.”

“I swear, Cherry, I thought it was gonna burst she was yelling at me so good.”

“I remember watching that from the car. Your little mouth was just hanging open, I didn’t know if you were gonna bolt or barf.”

“I was scared shitless. She yell at you when y’all got home then?” 

“No, I got the silent treatment and no dinner for a week.”

“Shit, Cher, really?” Suddenly, the laugh buoying his words is gone, a little quieter, a little more tempered. And she realizes, oh, one of those things that isn’t normal. Oh, one of those things that doesn’t happen in other families. Since starting college, she’s gotten good at recognizing these moments, when the laughs die out right after something she said. Oh, your parents? Well, get a load of my parents. No, not funny. Not funny at all. A whole lot of not funny going on in her household. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s why I stopped sitting next to you in Sunday school.” Said with a weak laugh to make it okay, though Joel’s smile has still faltered into something closer to a grimace, his eyes staying still and squinted down the stretch of the highway. 

“Can I read the story sometime?” 

“Oh, um, yeah, okay, if you want.” He keeps his eyes on the road, but his hand that isn’t hanging over the steering wheel slips down to rest on the center console, palm face up, a wordless invitation that she finds herself taking with her own hand. A small comfort to press her palm into his.

“Of course I do, Cher.”

…

It’s the same thing every year. The same rides that always have a few screws loose, the same smell of food sizzling in oil that his doctor would definitely not want him eating, the same throngs of sunburned people shuffling from booth to booth down the drag of streets that have been closed off for the fair. For a while, he didn’t go, but since Sarah got old enough to be interested in all the fourth of July festivities, they’ve made the drive into Austin every year for it, though as of late, the night usually entails her meeting up with her friends and yes, dadding, him into leaving her alone until the fireworks are over. But he isn’t all alone this year, Tommy tagging along at the last minute when whatever his plans were, Joel shudders to think of what they were, fell through. So no, not pathetic at all, just two grown men wandering through the crowd and waiting until they can go home. 

“I saw we got a new appointment on the books for next week. Someone on Cascade Street?”

“Uh-huh.”

“New client?”

“Yep, yeah, they just moved in.”

“Why are you being weird about it?” Tommy stops in his tracks, scrunching his face up at Joel who would really like this topic of conversation to get dropped. 

“I’m not, Tommy, why are you so concerned about this new client?” 

“What are they getting done?” 

“New porch.” 

“Who’s taking the job?” 

“I am.”

“You?” 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tommy shrugs, scoffing when Joel starts walking again without him, quick to catch up and step into stride with him.

“Seems like a pretty rinky-dink job for you to take on, especially when we’re in the middle of that new build on Cypress.”

“I thought you said you have Cypress under control?” He’s being a touch too snappy about it, he knows it, and judging by the weird look Tommy is giving him, his hands up as if in surrender, he knows it too. 

“I do, I’m just surprised that you aren’t letting one of the other guys take that job on, is all. What, is it a pretty lady or something?” Before Joel can figure out how to answer that question, Tommy’s eyes are widening and slipping right over his shoulder, and then–

“Holy shit, holy shit.”

“What?” 

“See for yourself, brother.” Tommy shuffles him around by his shoulders, Joel’s protests dying in his throat when he sees her. Mercifully, she hasn’t seen them yet, standing in line at a frozen lemonade stand with her phone at her ear, having what looks to be a heated conversation. He doesn’t see Ellie with her, though, and figures to himself that she’s gotten the same treatment he has from Sarah. And suddenly, frozen lemonade seems like a very good idea because his throat has gotten quite dry looking at her. Those same jean shorts he saw her in the last time, and a sliver of skin between the waistband and the hem of her t-shirt. Her very tight t-shirt that rides up a little more when she raises her hand to push those sunglasses of hers back into her hair. And, well, he’s not trying to be a perv, but it doesn’t take much more than a glance to tell that she isn’t wearing a bra beneath her very, very tight t-shirt. 

“Cherry!” 

“Tommy, what the fuck?” Too late, her head has already whipped around, her phone still pressed to her ear, though the scowl that had been on her face melts into a small smile, her eyes widening in recognition. Meanwhile, Joel is considering how hard he would have to punch his brother to rattle his pea-sized brain into some sense. Cherry seems to finish her phone call with a quick flurry, already walking over to them as she hangs up.

“Tommy Miller, look at you!” Tommy pulls her into a tight hug, a small oof leaving her as he hoists her up until only her toes are on the ground before setting her back down with a slap to her arm. Joel decidedly does not give her such a greeting. 

“Cher, of all the people I don’t think I’d ever expect to see you around here, goddamn!”

“Wait, Joel didn’t tell you I moved back?” They both turn their attention to Joel, who only manages to open and close his mouth a few times before Tommy lets out a scoff. 

“You knew that she was back and you didn’t tell me?” 

“Uh, well–”

“I thought for sure he would have told you. He’s coming out to look at my porch next week. Very impressive by the way, Tom, Miller’s Construction.” At that, something smug slides down Tommy’s face as he looks over at Joel.

“Oh, is he now? Say, Cher, you didn’t happen to move in on Cascade Street, did you?”

“Yeah, that’s right, so Joel did tell you then?” Joel contorts his face in the best expression of please no, Tommy, I will kill you if you do that he can muster over Cherry’s shoulder, but Tommy just grins at him, and then at Cherry. 

“No, nope, I just saw in our books that there was an appointment on Cascade next week with a very important person. Just putting two and two together for myself since it looks like no one tells me anything around here.” With that, Tommy claps Joel on the shoulder, who still hasn’t managed to get a word in edgewise between the two of them. Cherry has a smile on her face like she knows exactly what’s going on.

“Well, anyways, it’s so good to see you, Cher. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“It’s good to see you too, Tommy. I’m really glad to see you looking so well.” 

“I try, now if you two kids will excuse me, I have a date with something deep fried and covered in sugar.” Tommy is off in a flash, leaving Joel to flounder beneath Cherry’s simpering gaze. 

“You didn’t tell Tommy that I was back?”

“I didn’t think it was mine to tell.” She nods, squinting at him through the bleary haze of the sunset.

“So this hasn’t changed much at all.”

“No, I reckon these are the same rides we went on as kids.”

“Don’t remind me, I’m already worried that Ellie’s off getting kidnapped right now. I don’t need tetanus and loss of limb added to the list.”

“So you got dumped too then?” They make their way back over to the line in front of the frozen lemonade stand, a bit longer than it was before, but he’s happy to wait with her. 

“Afraid so, apparently when you turn fourteen you no longer want to be seen in public with your mom.”

“That applies to dads too.” They both share a tired smile and a small shrug, and once again he can’t believe he’s standing here with her, talking about parenthood of all things. 

“Ellie’s on a date, but don’t tell her I told you that.” Said with a slanted smile and a bump of her shoulder into his.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mmhmm, she’s been harboring quite the crush on her team’s center outfielder.” The gears in his mind spin for a moment, and then it clicks. 

“Oh, oh, huh.” 

“Nice save, Joel.” 

“No, I mean, that’s great, Cher. Good for her for, uh, knowing herself.” He palms the back of his neck, trying to cool the quick heat creeping there as she laughs at him. It’s a heat he hasn’t felt in a long time, though she was always quick to draw it out of him, always quick to catch him.

“Yeah, it is. I do worry though. Austin is definitely not New York.”

“That it ain’t, though I don’t think she’s gonna have to worry with you for her mom. You always did know how to give people the what for.” 

“You’re damn right about that.” That’s a smile he’d like to remember, a grin really, her eyes crinkling up at him, a little wry and a little fierce. That heat just keeps creeping. 

When they get to the front of the line, she starts to argue with him when he tries to pay for her drink, though he manages to sneak it by her when she gets distracted by another phone call buzzing through her back pocket. She checks the caller ID, sighs, and immediately shoves the phone back into her pocket, letting out another sigh when she sees that he’s already paid for her lemonade. 

“For the record, I’m getting the next one.” 

��Sure, Cher.” His mind gets a little stuck on next one, though he manages to follow her over to a bench and sit down with her, when once again, her phone starts ringing. She doesn’t check it, simply takes a long swig through the straw of her drink as it continues to buzz and ring.

“Not gonna take that call?” 

“Nope, do you want some of this?” Maybe it’s childish, but the thought of drinking from the same straw as her makes his brain start to fry, so he shakes his head no and grips the edge of the bench a little tighter. 

“Is that who you were on the phone with earlier?”

“Oh, you saw that, huh?” It makes him feel sheepish, admitting that he had, nodding to her question. Her shoulders slacken with a long sigh, another pull from her lemonade before she continues speaking. 

“It’s my agent, poking around for my next draft.”

“So you weren’t kidding about the big leagues? Got an agent and everything.”

“I wish I didn’t have one, honestly. But I kinda have to when I’m dealing with all these big publishers.” She pinches the bridge of her nose as she says it, her eyes dropping shut, and he finally sees that she is actually very tired. A little drawn, heavy circles under her eyes, a little thin, sharp around the edges in a way he doesn’t remember. How he missed it before he isn’t sure, but now that he sees it, something slight and sharp slips between his ribs and curls around his heart. 

“You’re working on another book then?” How quickly she hides away that weariness, looking at him with her cheek tilted over her shoulder and a bright smile.

“I’m trying to. You probably don’t care to hear about this–”

“I do, Cher, always wanted to hear about your stories.” It comes out before he can think much about it, and her expression does a strange thing. A quick fall, a scrunch of her brows, and then a slight frown before she shakes her head as if to clear the whole thing away. 

“Have you really not read a single one of my books, Joel?” 

“Uh, I–”

“No, don’t answer that. Wasn’t a fair question, sorry. Anyways, there’s nothing much to tell about this one because I am completely stuck with it.” 

“Stuck?” 

“I’m about this close to scrapping the whole thing. I don’t know, I guess part of me thought the move would shake something loose, but I still got nothing.” It’s not like he could offer her any advice on it, and it’s not like she’s looking for it either, another sigh around her straw and a shrug of her shoulders, always quick to make nothing out of something. 

“You eaten anything for dinner yet?”

“Does this thirty-two ounce frozen lemonade count?” He’s already getting up and holding out his hand for her, and while it seems like the simplest movement, his mind instantly questions if it’s too much, though he fights against that with a foolish hope. 

“C’mon, Cher, I think I can do you one better than a frozen lemonade.” No big deal, she takes his hand. No big deal, he tells himself. No big deal when she lets go either, because that’s normal too. That’s friendly. And friendly is good. 

“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, then it is definitely going to be better than this frozen lemonade.” 

…

“You got a little, right there–” Before she can wipe away whatever he’s referring to with a napkin, Joel has already licked his thumb and swiped it along the corner of her mouth, promptly sucking what she assumes is barbecue sauce off the pad of his finger. 

“That was so gross.”

“What? I’m saving paper.”

“Lovely.”

“Always, Cherry baby.” The sun had set a while ago, the streets lit up in a syrupy wash of neon from all the rides and games lining the several blocks. They ran the whole circuit of the booths, her constantly pulling Joel away to keep him from spending any more money on trying to win her something, and inevitably failing at whatever rigged game he stepped up to. She can already see his eyes dragging over the remaining booths as they finish their meal at one of the picnic tables set up next to all the food vendors, planning his attack, no doubt.

“You know I really don’t care about getting a stuffed animal, right?” 

“It’s the principle of the thing, Cher.”

“Those games are literally designed for people to lose at them. Seriously, I don’t want you to waste any more money on it.” She quickly realizes that was the exact wrong thing to say, Joel’s eyes flashing back to her, hard and steeled, on the defense. 

“You don’t gotta worry about what I do with my money, okay?” His words come out rushed and loud, with a quick shake of his head, enough to startle her back from where her thigh had been pressed close to his, something that immediately washes the edge out of his expression, his eyebrows slackening and his lips parting.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, Joel.” Her mouth feels dry, a cool prickle in her scalp, regret swirling up her meal in her stomach. He gets enough of that from everyone else, the money, the job, the what is the plan. He doesn’t need it from her too. 

“No, I’m sorry, it’s just– forget it, I shouldn’t have gone after you like that.” She’s not quite ready to look at him, keeping her eyes focused on the red and white checkered napkin that she’s twisting in her hands. But of course, Joel doesn’t abide by that for long, ducking his head and leaning over to place a smacking kiss on the corner of her mouth before angling back again to get one planted square on her lips. 

“You– taste– like– smoked– brisket–” Each of his words is punctuated with another peck until she can no longer stave off the smile threatening at the corners of her lips, shoving him back with a palm pressed in the middle of his chest. 

“Oh shit, Miller, is that you?” Her stomach turns over, because she’s pretty sure she knows whose voice that is, and she wishes that she didn’t. She isn’t sure what the next best move is, though Joel seems to make the decision for her, slinging his arm over her shoulder to tuck her into his side just as Mikey Donahue comes sauntering over to where they’re sitting. 

“Hey, Mike, you out with the guys tonight?” Joel offers his hand out for a hard shake, apparently still chummy with Mikey after the little scene at his party. Though she supposes water flows under the bridge a little faster for boys anyways. 

“Nah, decided to finally bite the bullet and take Maureen out, she ducked into the bathrooms but she should be wandering over soon.” Though the answer is directed at Joel, Mikey’s eyes stay steady on her, a smile that she doesn’t like the curl of crooking his mouth. 

“Y’all are quite the couple. Does your daddy know you’re out with this menace, big city?” It’s so small, so subtle, but she can still feel it, the way Joel’s hand curls closely and tenses around her forearm from where his arm had been draped around her.

“Ha, ha, Mikey, that’s very funny. I’m a big girl though, don’t really need my daddy or you to be concerned with my business.” Joel snorts over her shoulder, and she has to resist the urge to elbow him for it. 

“Whatever you say, big city. Oh, here comes Maureen. Do y’all mind if we join you?” She’s quick to cut Joel off before he can answer, squeezing his thigh hard to shut him up as she offers Mikey a tight-lipped smile. 

“Actually, we were just heading off to get a few rides in before the fireworks, but y’all have fun.” Not another word, though she’s pretty sure she hears Mikey let out a laugh as she pulls Joel up and along behind her before Maureen can even get anywhere near them. 

“Cher, you know I don’t like rides.” Said very lowly, a bit bashful, she thinks, his head ducking down to speak the words right into her ear. Yeah, she knows, and has known since they were nine and Tommy and her forced him onto the Gravitron, which ended with Joel in tears and a puddle of what had been his dinner next to the trash can that he missed by only a hair. 

“I know, I just needed an excuse to get away from those two. But, really, Joel? Not even the ferris wheel?” He stops walking for a moment, his eyes scanning over the arc of the ride as if to give it his full consideration. Finally, he looks at her again, his lips pressed in a thin line.

“How bad do you wanna go on it?” 

“I think it could be nice, but not if you’re going to be all weird about it.” She swears she sees his chest puff a little, and with that, he takes her hand with all the conviction of a man going off to war. 

“I’m not going to be weird about it, let’s go.” Famous last words. He’s the picture of ease all while they’re standing in line, but the instant they cram into one of the cars, his whole body tenses up, his knuckles going white where they’re gripping onto the side railing. She doesn’t say anything at first, just puts her hand on his bouncing knee when the ride cranks into motion. Though when they crest the top of the ride and it stops again, Joel’s poorly contained panic becomes impossible to ignore.

“Oh, what the fuck–”

“It’s okay, they’re just letting more people on.” She doesn’t think that he hears her, too busy craning his neck over the side of the car before skittering back into place when the lean of his body makes the whole thing rock. 

“This is so fucked–”

“Joel.”

“Why do people enjoy this? That’s–”

“Joel.” 

“What?” He finally looks at her, eyes a bit frantic and jaw slack. She can’t help but reach out and brush his hair back from his face. 

“Is it– are you afraid of heights?” Calling it what it is seems to calm him, his shoulders finally coming down from his ears and his eyes softening. She lets her hand dip down to curl behind his neck, her fingers scratching lightly into the back of his hair.

“Maybe, but I’d say that’s a pretty rational fear, Cher.” 

“Yeah, it is, and you’re also totally safe right now.” Her words are undermined just a bit when the ride screeches back into motion just as she finishes saying them, Joel’s eyes going wide again as he whips his head around to look over the edge of the car. Right, drastic measures then. 

“Hey.” First, she shrugs her thigh over top of his to stop the anxious bounce in his knee, already drawing his attention back onto her. Then, she leans in a little closer so she can keep her eyes steady with his, her hand firm along the side of his neck to hold him in place. 

“Just look right here and it’ll be over before you know it.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Well, I’m not the one freaking out on a ferris wheel right now.”

“Hey.” She shouldn’t, like giving a child what they want just because they’re having a tantrum. But she does, pressing one kiss, then another to his lips, small, swift little pecks that he eventually starts to lean into, his hand that had been gripping onto the railing coming up to settle along the line of her jaw when she swipes her tongue across his bottom lip. They’ve gotten a little better at this, at making compromises with each other, giving and taking almost equally, opening up for each other. And, not that his ego needs to hear it, but she really likes kissing him. 

His panic seems to be all forgotten as he licks into her mouth, his nose brushing along the side of hers. Always a little greedy though, crowding her into the side of the car and making a soft sound skitter up her throat when his teeth graze along her lip. 

“Uh, excuse me?” It startles them both, Joel very slowly pulling away from her and turning his head to look at the ride attendant, the very unamused looking ride attendant. 

“Y’all can get off now, thanks.” 

…

“Goddamn.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“They don’t have barbecue up north?” 

“Not like this they don’t, Jesus.” He tries not to smile too big at the satisfied hum that leaves her throat as she takes another bite. And he’s also trying hard not to watch her too closely, because, no, it’s probably not normal to just stare at someone while they’re eating brisket and potato salad. 

“Do I have something on my face?” Busted, and, well, actually, he motions to the side of his own mouth, words getting caught in his throat. She gets the hint though, grabbing a napkin and dabbing at the same spot on her face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how hungry I actually was. I probably look a little crazy right now.” 

“Are you eating proper while you’re working?” Sheepish, the flicker of her eyes from beneath her lashes is enough of an answer to his question. Some things never change, he supposes. 

“I may get a little distracted.”

“Uh-huh.” A quick, quiet smile shared, a knowing. He likes knowing. 

“Mom?” No, he is still not used to that, both of them whipping their heads around where they’re sitting at a picnic bench to see her daughter with a very furrowed look on her face. 

“Hey, babe, everything okay?” Ellie is looking at Joel. Sizing him up is more like it, her lips pursed and her arms crossed, her hip cocked to the side, just like he knows her mom does when she’s not pleased with something. 

“Uh, yeah, we were just gonna– wait, are you eating meat?” He glances back to Cherry, who now has the guiltiest little smile on her face, her eyebrows pulled together in a quiet cringe as she tries to inconspicuously swallow another bite of food.

“I am, Els, I’m sorry. I gotta be honest, I don’t think I’m gonna keep up the vegetarian thing all the time, but you know I’ll support you if you still want to.” Ellie gives her an eye roll that looks like it’s going to get stuck in the back of her head, a little huff and a few shuffled steps in place like she can’t believe this.

“Okay, well, fine, I guess. I was gonna ask if you had found something to eat that didn’t have dead animal in it, but obviously you’re not gonna be much help with that so I’ll see you later.” With that, Ellie turns heel back into the crowd, Joel still unsure exactly what he just watched.

“They have fried pickles, babe, those should be fine! Be safe, please!” Ellie only acknowledges her shout with a glance spared over her shoulder, Cherry immediately deflating when her daughter gets swallowed up by the crowd, bringing her thumb and forefinger to pinch the bridge of her nose again.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe that just happened.” Said with a dejected little laugh that only grows when she takes another bite of brisket, his chest loosening up when she shakes her head and offers him a smile.

“So vegetarian, huh?” Cherry shrugs.

“New York.” 

“Sarah had a phase with it too. Only lasted three days before Tommy took her to KFC and she swayed.” 

“Ellie is a little more, uh, zealous about it. It’s going on two years now since she watched some documentary and came into my room in complete tears over, and mind you that a twelve-year-old said this, the horrors of animal agriculture.” 

“Well shit.” 

“Right?” 

“You’re telling me you’ve been vegetarian for two years?”

“Don’t laugh, Joel.” It only makes him laugh harder, Cherry shoving him in the arm as she tries to scrunch her mouth out of a smile. But beneath that laugh, there’s something else, something warm and a little giddy. He’s noticed it every time she has said his name. 

“No wonder you were so hungry, Cher, damn.”

“This may surprise you, but meat isn’t the only food group. And I’ll have you know I make some damn good tofu enchiladas.” 

“Well that’s just sacreligious.”

“Oh please.” Back and forth, slipping into that easy volley without either of them noticing that their faces have started inching closer and closer, though when they do there’s a quick flush of heat that has them both clearing their throats and widening that space again. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask, where did Will end up?” 

“Oregon, he’s a really great photographer these days.” 

“Y’all keep in touch?”

“A little, yeah. I think for a while, we were both just happy to have gotten out, you know? It made us keep our distance from each other. But he came and visited last year, got to meet Ellie for the first time.” 

“That’s great, Cher.”

“Yeah, it is. He’s turning thirty-three this year, if you can believe it.” 

“Jesus.”

“I know, how’d that happen, huh?” Joel just shakes his head, a memory already floating up to the surface. Will was a freshman when they were seniors, tall but slight for his age, quieter, kept more to himself, though Joel made a point of saying hi to him in the hallways, clapping him on the back in the lunch line. There was a day, maybe a week after winter break, and Joel was loitering in the halls during a class he didn’t have any patience for when he saw Will at his locker. All smiles, all loud and brash greetings that all faded when he saw the shiner mottling under Will’s right eye. He remembers being ready to go on the warpath for the kid, asking him over and over, who did this, man, just tell me, who did this? He figured, one of the guys from the football team, someone he could set straight, and that he of course would set straight for Cherry’s little brother. But Will just kept saying nobody, it’s nobody, Joel, please don’t. It was probably two months later when he finally figured out who nobody was, a slow realization, something clicking into place. 

But he knows better than to share that memory with her, the same way he knows better than to ask her if she has kept in touch with her parents. He already knows the answer to that question. 

“Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“Where’d you go?” Her head tilted at him, a suggestion of a smile. 

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“And that’s mean.” Back to the present, sitting next to her on a picnic bench, he has to shake his head of it. A strange feeling, how carefully they’re stepping around the past, sharing pieces in scraps, in unsure palms, always quick to make it light, make a joke of it. He’s not sure how long he can keep dancing like this. 

“Are you sticking around for the fireworks?”

“I was informed by Sarah to meet her at the car after the fireworks, so yeah, I guess I am.” 

“Oh, how funny, I was given the same instructions by my own little tyrant.” 

“Imagine that.” 

“You wouldn’t want to watch them with me, would you?” 

“I’d love to, Cher.”

…

“You do realize you’re driving us in the opposite direction of where the fireworks are being set off, right?” 

“Do you trust me or not?”

“Do you want me to answer that honestly or not?” 

“You know I could kick you out of my car if I wanted to.” 

“Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try.” 

“Cherry, just– quiet for a minute–”

“Don’t tell me to be quiet, Joel!”

“I’m trying to concentrate, goddamnit! You’re gonna make me miss the turn.”

“What turn? We’re literally on the highway and there isn’t another exit for–” Her thought gets lost behind a gasp when Joel mutters a quiet shit under his breath and suddenly veers completely off the road and into what she thinks is a corn field, though she’s a little too busy shouting whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck over and over again as the car bounces and bumps over uneven ground. And seemingly just as suddenly, he stops the car altogether, putting it in park and killing the engine in what, yes, is the middle of a cornfield, the stalks unusually high and proud for this early in the season. It’s already dark out, deep blue and bruising shadows, she can only barely see his face in what light the lamp post about fifty yards away offers.

“What the fuck?”

“You already asked that about a thousand times, Cher.” 

“Yeah, and you haven’t answered, so again, what the fuck?” He’s still not answering, shouldering into his door to get it open against the close crush of the tightly planted corn stalks, letting out a satisfied grunt when it finally gives way.

“Joel–”

“Cherry, just shut up and give me your hand.” 

“If you ever tell me to shut up again I’m going to make sure you regret it.” 

“Noted, now come here.” Albeit reluctantly, she takes his hand from where he’s now leaning out of the driver’s side door, managing an awkward shimmy over the center console and into the driver’s seat as Joel swings his body out along the side of the car, one leg hitching into the truck bed. The soft silk of corn stalks brushes against her legs and arms as she follows after him, holding on tight to his hand to hoist herself up and into the truck bed alongside him, a quick tumble over each other, all tangled up. Though not for long, Joel already getting to work shaking out what she sees is a stack of moving blankets in the back of the truck bed. She takes a moment to look around, a thick line of trees surrounding the field on the side opposite to the road, so late that she doesn’t think a single car has passed by since they’ve driven out here. And, she hates to admit it, a perfect view down the stretch of the highway of the stadium where they’re setting off the fireworks from. 

“You good?” His question startles her out of her slow scan of the surroundings, finally looking back at him to see that he’s spread the blankets out in the bed of the truck, his back resting against the cab and his legs stretched out in front of him. 

“Y-yeah.” It comes out small and shaky, and while she thinks she knows why, she tamps that down tight as she crawls over to sit beside him. Even though it’s oppressively hot, she still tucks down into his side when he lets his arm fall over her shoulders. Perfect spot and perfect timing too, but she doesn’t watch the sky when she hears that familiar whistle and pop of rockets, choosing instead to see the light burst and shatter over his face, the slow fall of it in his eyes. And there’s no tamping it down now, that feeling starting to fizz and lift in her chest, and as she continues to watch each succession of color and sound wash over Joel’s parted lips and wide eyes, she knows that she is absolutely, irreparably, fucked. 

“You’re not even watching.” 

“Yes I am.” He’s not watching anymore either, looking at her down the length of his nose, all shadow between the quick fractures of light. Their chins bump first before they get it right, seeking each other out by feel. His hands finding her hips, squeezing and coaxing her into his lap, though he pulls away when the next resonant crack of fireworks splits the sky and her whole body tenses. 

“You don’t like the sound?” 

“It’s not my favorite thing.” No, she doesn’t like that sound. That sound that reminds her of the whole lot of not funny going on in her household, but she’s already leaning in to forget all that with her mouth pressed to his. Though Joel holds her back, firm palm, big palm, steady and curled at the nape of her neck. 

“Is it okay though? You’re okay?” It doesn’t help her case when another stream of fireworks sets off just as he asks it, her body jolting in his hold again, but she tries to pass it off with a breathy laugh. 

“It’s fine, Joel. I’m fine. Just come here, please.” He relents, his hand slipping down along her spine to press her closer as she opens his mouth with hers, a shared sigh and the quiet scrape of teeth, her palm splayed over his chest feeling the thrum of his moan when she licks into his mouth. He’s being careful, she can tell, and she doesn’t think it’s only because they can just barely see each other in the dim light and the punctuated bursts of brightness from the fireworks, his hands splaying wide along the span of her back, holding her so close that every time her muscles tense and jump at the sounds it just sends her closer into his arms. He’s steady, perfectly, his thumbs stroking back and forth along her spine, constant and lulling until she knows that the fireworks are still going on, the pinpricks of light in the periphery, but she can no longer hear them over the rushing in her ears and the way she’s trying to collect every breath of his with her own. 

And she just wants more, however she can get it, his stomach tensing up when her fingers slip beneath the hem of his shirt, only pulling away enough that he can help her tug it over his head. Always so warm beneath her hands, she keeps one palm in the center of his chest, finding that pulse, that beat that always seems so strong to her, as Joel’s hands begin to wander. Ever predictable, the first stop of his circuit is her ass, both palms splayed and squeezing, making a weak noise fizzle out in her throat as he rocks her forward into the hardness in his jeans. From there, his palms slip down to the meat of her thighs, another squeeze, his fingers flickering under the hem of her shorts. Their kiss breaks with a quiet click, lips shined and swollen with it as she leans back to peel her tank top off, though before she can unclasp her bra, Joel grabs both her wrists, his eyes wide and pleading.

“What’s wrong?” The fireworks have stopped, so she must squint in the shadows to see the way his eyes are drooping down, the dip and bob of his throat as he swallows.

“Nothing, I just– s’pretty.” He lets go of her wrists, his fingers coming up to ghost over the tops of her breasts, that slight spill of flesh over the top of her bra, a small sigh that she can see leave his chest as he watches her own inhale and exhale. 

“Do you want me to leave it on, baby?” She’s never called him that before, though judging by the broken groan that crackles in his chest, he liked it, a new warmth curling deep in her stomach at the sound. 

“Please, Cher.” She can’t help the grin that slips across her face, circling one of his wrists with her palm to draw it up to her lips, pressing a kiss to the pad of each finger before guiding his hand down to the waistband of her shorts. Quick to flicker through the button and zipper, it’s all slow moves as he surges forward and she leans back until she’s laying out in the bed of the truck with Joel between her legs and nothing on but that bra he seems to like so much. It doesn’t surprise her that he wastes no time in ducking his head down to mouth over the fabric of her bra, her spine arching up into the wet heat with a sigh. Though he’s gone just as fast, drifting further down over the fluttering rise and fall of her stomach, his lips catching below her navel before he settles between her legs with her thighs resting over his shoulders. 

He learned fast what she likes, with her hand in his hair and her words so quick to correct or to praise, he learned very fast. So she doesn’t have to say a thing now, a silent cry crackling in her jaw when he drags his tongue through the heat of her cunt. She can already feel a perfect bead of arousal dripping from between her thighs down the cleft of her ass as his mouth rests over her clit and he sucks, sharp, quick, before dipping back down and doing it again. He’s gotten more confident, more brazen about it, a little rough in the way his fingers dig into the swell of her thighs, demanding everything, open and willing and waiting for whatever he will give her. And she gives it to him, fingers threaded through his hair to tug when his teeth graze too tender, her spine strung tight and taut as her cunt clenches around nothing. The sound is obscene, a salacious secret amidst the hum of crickets and the close quiet of the night, the little hums he can’t seem to stop rising in his throat as he eats at her, the slick slip of it, and the gentle, but still there, rock of the truck from how he’s grinding his hips down, seeking out more just the same as her. 

His one palm slips under the curve of her ass, tilting her hips up toward his mouth as he continues to lick and suck at her cunt, all that pleasure starting to hurt, starting to snap and snarl as she tugs a little harder at his hair. 

“I– more– something more, please.” He lifts his gaze from its hazy drop, the whites of his eyes still hooded and shining up to her as he rests his cheek against the soft inside of her thigh, the little pants of his breath washing over her cunt and making her hips twitch. 

“You want more?” She would smack him for looking so smug if she didn’t need it so bad, settling instead for another tug in his hair that makes him puff out a laugh. He doesn’t wait for any more of an answer, happy to oblige with two of his fingers dragging down through her swollen cunt before dipping inside, heat shooting up her spine when he curls them just so, that small stretch, that ache, that want. He presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh before his teeth sink into the flesh, his fingers already finding a steady rhythm that’s making her buck up into his hand. 

“Yes– just like that– I want– I want–”

“You want it?’

“Uh-huh.”

“You need it?” 

“So bad, Joel, please.”

“I know, Cherry, look at you, huh? So perfect like this.” He continues to coo at her in that low hum when it finally catches up with her, that pleasure pulling taut fraying all at once, her whole body curling in tight and tense and then releasing with a languid moan. My girl, my fucking girl, so good, my good fucking girl. She hears it somewhere in the back of her mind, tucking it away behind the wall of sound and sense still coursing through her as her hips jolt in his grasp, so sensitive that tears start to pearl along her lashes. She thinks her heart might actually stop when he finally pulls his fingers away and up to his mouth, sucking each one with a hum and an absurd pop before he crawls up her body to give her a taste. 

Her hands are already tugging at his jeans, only a bit surprised when she manages to ruck them down and finds that he isn’t wearing underwear. 

“You are such a freak.” He laughs, leaving a harsh nip to the hinge of her jaw.

“I don’t see why you’re complaining, it’s easy access, Cher.” She only manages to get his jeans down over the curve of his ass, but it’s enough so she can slip her palms down and dig her fingernails into the flesh in retaliation, Joel groaning and dropping his forehead down to her sternum. 

“Be nice.”

“You be nice.”

“You’re the one that called me a freak.” 

“And it stands.”

“If I’m a freak then you’re a–”

“Careful, baby.” 

“You’re a menace.” He hisses out the word as he spreads her open on his cock in one slow drag, the both of them sighing as he stills inside her. For a moment the only sound is their ragged breaths. Slow movements, his hand curling around the back of her knee to draw it up against his hip, another small rock that makes her preen with how full she feels. Her mouth stays stamped at his hairline, words murmured there as she curls her arm around his shoulder blades. 

“I’m a menace?” 

“Uh-huh, you d-drive me insane.” His words come out breathless as he finally pulls his hips back, a little more force in his next thrust that makes a whine tear through her chest. He’s so deep, grinding his hips into hers even deeper and all she can do is take it, her heel digging into his low back as he does it again and again and again. 

“Well you drive me in-insane too– oh.” The words slip out in stilted stutters, tears dripping cool and sticky down her flushed cheeks as he finds a different movement, one that’s harder and meaner, rucking her up the bed of the truck with every shunt of his hips against hers, his chest pressed tight against hers, sweat beading and dripping between her breasts.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh.” Pitchy and high in her throat, she can’t help it when he slips a hand between the humid stick of their bodies to drag his fingers against her clit. 

“Good.” It isn’t long before they’re both unraveling around each other, his forehead pressed hard into hers, the weight of him heaving and draped over her, stifling and sweaty and perfect. Her whole body shakes with the panting laugh he lets out, finally resting his chin between her breasts to look up at her. 

“My little menace.” She can’t help but laugh too, his cheeks splitting into a grin at the sound. 

“My big freak.”

“Hey.”

…

“Oh my god.”

“What, what is it?”

“I think that’s Ellie and her date.” 

“Where?”

“Don’t be so obvious about it, two rows down, across the aisle.” Her hand is on his shoulder, her finger pointed right next to his face to guide his gaze toward where she’s looking. Sure enough, it’s Ellie, sitting very close to another girl on the bleachers, oblivious to the crush of the crowd around them, smiling and laughing to each other as they wait for the fireworks to start. He never liked watching from inside the stadium, thinking that all the bright lights sort of defeated the purpose, but now he’s grateful for them so he can get a better look to confirm that yes, that is definitely Ellie who is now putting her arm around her date, getting even cozier. 

“Oh my god.” He finally looks away to see Cherry hanging on his shoulder, perfectly mortified at the sight in front of her.

“You got a regular Casanova on your hands, Cher.” 

“I feel like I’m going to cry, or maybe scream, or maybe throw up.” He’s watching her watching them, her brow crumpled and her jaw completely slack, pure shock. He’d laugh, but he’s pretty sure he’d be in a far worse state if he saw Sarah in a similar position. 

“Hey, it’s okay, they’re just–”

“Oh my fucking god, look!” His eyes dart back just in time to see what he’s pretty sure is the end of a kiss, the young pair shyly pulling away from each other with small smiles.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

“Do you think that was her first kiss?” It’s such an absurd question. He’s only just met the kid, after all. But when he looks back at Cherry and sees the pleading tilt of her eyes, how could he not try his best?

“Well, I don’t know, Cher, do you?” Maybe his best wasn’t very good.

“I don’t know. Oh fuck, I shouldn’t have seen that. I should not have seen that. She’s too young for that, right? I should go get her, yeah, that’s what I should do.” She’s already starting to get up out of her seat, and all Joel can think to do is grab her hand to keep her where she is.

“Woah, woah, hey, I think they’re fine, Cher. Look, they’re just talking now.” She squeezes his hand, still looking at Ellie with a deep frown on her face, but she does sit back down. She’s still holding onto his hand while she worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You think so?”

“Tell me this, how old were you when you had your first kiss?” Suddenly, the worry in her face slackens, something a bit more bashful slipping into place. She’s still holding onto his hand.

“Well, I was thirteen.” 

“There you go, it’s normal then.” She’s still holding onto his hand.

“How old were you when you had yours?” She’s still holding onto his hand.

“I don’t know, probably thirteen like you.” She’s still holding onto his hand.

“You mean you don’t remember?” She’s still holding onto his hand.

“Not really.” 

“How can you not remember your first kiss?” She finally lets go of his hand, only so that she can talk with her own, a bit of flailing and exasperation at him before her hands settle in her lap. He rests his on his knee, a hard squeeze to stop any lingering want.

“I just don’t. It was a long time ago, and it obviously wasn’t very important.” 

“Do you at least remember who it was with?” He does, but she’s not going to like the answer, and suddenly the toes of his boots are very interesting as he scratches the back of his neck. 

“Uh, Maureen.” He says it as he drags his hand down his jaw, the name getting muffled beneath his palm. Cherry’s face scrunches up.

“Come again?” He really doesn’t want to say it again, but he knows she’s not going to give this up now, her chin tilted down and her eyes narrowed at him.

“Maureen? Maureen Henderson, yep.” As if a yep might make it better, but her brows have already done that thing, that familiar thing where they shoot up her forehead, then scrunch down again, then slacken.

“Huh, so Maureen wasn’t very memorable then?”

“Nope, not at all.” She purses her lips and nods, her eyes squinting out across the stadium for a moment. But before whatever is simmering below the surface can bubble over, the first booming firework goes off, and her whole body recoils. 

“Oh, motherfucker.” It happens again, another fizzle and crack, and as the crowd oohs and ahhs, she digs her fingernails into her thighs and grits her jaw. 

“That never got any better, huh?”

“Afraid not.” He wants to reach out for her, to curl his arm around her shoulders and pull her tight into his side, to absorb the shock that keeps resounding through her body. He knows how to, after all. 

“Is– is there something I can do, Cher?” Her eyes are a little unfocused, even when he ducks his head down to try to get her attention.

“You’d think that by now I’d have figured out that every loud sound isn’t–” Almost like a hiccup when the next rocket goes off. The only thing that’s different is that now, each time, first her eyes dart over to where Ellie is sitting, checking, making sure. He feels his heart ripping apart watching her. 

“Hey.” It comes out quieter than he meant it to, but her eyes still turn onto him when he puts his hand on her knee.

“You wanna go wait at your car?” She nods, and that’s enough for him to go into action, not thinking twice about taking her hand again and shepherding them both down one of the aisles further away from where Ellie is sitting. Back and forth, back and forth, his thumb stays steady and smoothing along her hand the whole way out of the stadium and into the massive parking lot.

“My car or yours, Cher?” 

“I don’t– I don’t– Ellie– uh, I–” She’s still holding tight to his hand, her eyes darting around the lot, clearly working herself into a state, the continued onslaught of fireworks not helping at all. 

“That’s alright. Cher? It’s alright, okay? Let’s sit in my car and I’ll drive you to yours when this is over.” He thinks she says okay, but he’s already focused on pulling her along to his car. And when they get in, him in the driver’s seat and her in the passenger’s, he realizes that, no, he’s not going to crack the windows, trying to keep as much of the sound out as possible. So he lets the car idle and cranks the AC up as high as it will go, and it’s probably going to burn up his tank of gas, but he doesn’t care, because it seems to muffle the noise of the fireworks just enough for her to start coming back down. He’s still holding her hand over the center console.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, Joel.” She takes her hand out of his, pressing her palm to her chest, letting out a long breath through her nose. 

“Don’t, Cherry. It’s okay.” She keeps her eyes closed and her palm against her chest, long inhales and exhales, and he realizes that she’s doing a breathing exercise. He only knows it because the shrinks at the VA started Tommy in on it when he kept having panic attacks after coming home. And something like anger settles in his stomach, slithering up and seeping out between his ribs, sickening and slick. Anger that no, this hasn’t gotten any better. Anger that no, this probably won’t get better. And no, no one deserves it, but he selfishly thinks to himself that she especially doesn’t deserve it. 

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Cher.” Her eyes finally slip open, head tilting onto her shoulder to look at him. Mercy, it’s passing. Mercy, he could help her through its passing. 

“So, Maureen Henderson, huh?” 

“Oh, you’re still on that?” Small smile, he’ll take it.

“You could have done better, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” 

“Well since you remember it so well, who was your first?” 

“You’re not gonna like my answer.” 

“Try me.” 

“It was Mikey Donahue.”

“No.” She was right, he didn’t like that answer, not one bit.

“Yeah, I think his friends dared him to do it, honestly.” 

“That little shit.” 

“Uh-huh.”

“You could have done better.” That gets a full smile from her, her nose scrunching up at the same time something takes off in his chest. 

“I guess we both could have.”

“Yeah, Cher, I guess so.”

...................................................

taglist: @casa-boiardi @tieronecrush @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @amanitacowboy @pr0ximamidnight @wannab-urs @jksprincess10 @suzmagine @everything-isfucked @lanabobana @kittenlittle24 @sarap-77 @officerrrfriendly @val-srz @bitchwitch1981 @redwoodsanddaffodils @themothersmercy @romanarose @lost-inhawkins @youcancallmeelle @hollywoodcaligirl @

[beewolfwrites]

you’re one of my favorite authors so i’m so glad you’re active again! <33 I’ve started rereading awiaf just to remind myself why it’s my favorite fic ever so thank you for feeding into my brain rot since you started awiaf until now.

on the other side of this ask

I have worms for brains and I desperately need chishiya trying to drop hints that he likes the reader but just… is so terrible at it and gets frustrated because if it. He probably doesn’t even know the first thing about flirting, let’s all be honest.

Hey Anon! This probably strayed a little from your request, but if you'd rather have a fluffier version, I'm happy to redo it :)

The idea of Kuina being a horrified wingwoman to Chishiya's terrible flirting attempts was just too funny not to write about.

(Chishiya x gn reader)

(Kuina = losing hope in all humanity)

________________________________________________

It was killing her to watch. 

She’d given him more expert advice than she’d ever given anyone - heaven only knew that boy needed it - but he was still so stiff, so standoffish, and so goddamn terrible. And now, hiding behind a pillar in the hotel lobby, Kuina felt like crawling into a corner and burying her head in the sand. 

‘Thanks… That’s really nice of you Chishiya.’  

The words had come out in the same awkward tone that one might use when humouring children, or fending off an over-familiar stranger on the bus. And what’s worse, Chishiya hadn’t even realised. 

‘You just pull the pin and it should work,’ he explained, showing off the “pin”, which was actually a keyring attached to a piece of string. 

‘Great,’ (Y/N) said, eyebrows drawing in bizarre confusion. ‘I guess it’s useful to have… maybe.’ 

Kuina bit her hand, fighting the urge to drag him away at his heels. Luckily, she didn’t have to, because without even saying goodbye, or ending the conversation whatsoever, he was now walking away, smiling with satisfaction and leaving (Y/N) standing in the hotel lobby looking utterly bewildered by the events that just occurred. As Chishiya passed the pillar, she grabbed his white hood.

He shook her off immediately. ‘Was that really necessary?’ 

‘What the hell was that?’ Kuina hissed. ‘What about everything we practiced?’ 

He shrugged lazily. ‘I thought it went well.’ 

You can’t be serious?

‘That right there? That was a car crash. You can’t just walk up to someone and give them a bomb as a present. They think you’re insane now.’ 

‘I doubt that. I left a note in their room beforehand.’ 

Kuina felt the colour drain from her face. ‘You did what now?’ 

Chishiya gave a knowing smile. ‘While the games were on, I left a note on the bed explaining that I had a gift. It was hardly a surprise.’ 

Oh my god… This is a disaster. 

She placed both hands on his shoulders, locking him in a firm grip that he couldn’t escape from no matter how much he tried to squirm away. 

‘Chishiya, listen to me now. Normal people don’t do things like this. You don’t know (Y/N) well enough to just walk into their room. You’re gonna end up with some really weird rumours going around, and I don’t want to be part of that.’ 

He finally broke away with a scowl. ‘You’re overreacting. If you’re not going to help, you can find somebody else to annoy.’ 

‘I’m literally trying my hardest to help you, but you’re impossible. This is impossible.’ 

He made a small noise of irritation and stared aimlessly at the white lobby wall. ‘Do you have any other suggestions then?’ 

‘What about telling the truth?’ 

‘No.’ 

‘It’s not that bad. Tell them how you really feel. Admit that you weren’t sure how to show it, and you screwed up —‘

‘I didn’t.’ 

‘Yeah, you did. You haven’t got a clue how to flirt, and that was a horror show to watch.’ 

He averted his gaze, looking anywhere but at Kuina. ‘Any other bright ideas?’ 

She rubbed her temple. ‘I’ll see what I can think of,’ she said. ‘Just let me work on it, okay?’ 

As she parted ways with Chishiya in the lobby, Kuina didn’t have much hope. The situation was eating away at her, because believe it or not, she wanted Chishiya to be happy, even if he was an asshole sometimes. Well, most of the time. However, even after borrowing all of her expert advice and tips, he still couldn’t quite make flirting seem natural. 

And worse, he actually did like (Y/N), even if he had never really shared the depths of his feelings. But Kuina wasn’t blind. She’d seen the way his eyes trailed after them, no matter where they were in the room. He would only ask how Kuina’s games had been whenever (Y/N) was placed in the same group. Anybody else wouldn’t have noticed. Except Kuina wasn’t just anybody. 

I think I might actually feel bad for him. 

Stepping into the elevator, she pressed the button for the sixth floor. She was so lost in her thoughts that when the doors opened, it took her a good few seconds to realise that she was standing face to face with the object of those thoughts - the object of Chishiya’s affection.

‘Oh! Hey Kuina, this is actually kind of cool. I was just looking for you.’ 

Oh no.

Kuina could already see where this was going. ‘Really? We can go into my room if you want to talk,’ she suggested. ‘It’s better than standing out here.’ 

They must have been knocking on Kuina’s door, and since the timing was right, that could only mean one thing. There would be a very long conversation ahead. The two shut themselves away in the privacy of Kuina’s room, sitting on two small chairs in front of the window. 

‘Sorry for the mess.’ Kuina began scooping up the array of lipsticks rolling around on the desk behind her. ‘I think I already know why you’re here.’ 

There’s no point beating around the bush.

(Y/N) tried to hide a grimace behind their hand. ‘It’s… well. Have you noticed Chishiya-san acting strange recently?’ 

‘Strange?’ 

‘It’s just that - this is so weird. He stares at me so much, and earlier when I came back from my game, I found a note from him on my pillow. I didn’t even know he’d been in my room.’ 

Seriously, Chishiya? The pillow?!

Kuina feigned surprise. ‘What did the note say?’ 

‘He wanted to meet with me in the lobby, so I did. Just now, actually, and…’ (Y/N) pulled out a soda can with red and blue wires stretching from the lip to the base, and a tiny pull ring on top. ‘He gave me a homemade grenade.’ 

‘I’m so sorry.’ It was the only thing Kuina could bring herself to say. ‘I really am. I can have a word with him if you want?’

‘That’s not all,’ they added. ‘The other day when I woke up I found something in front of my door too. I don’t have it here, but it was a… a shank, I think?’ 

Kuina fought the urge to put her head in her hands and cry. Chishiya hadn’t told her about this, probably knowing she would disapprove. And disapprove, she did. 

‘I don’t have it with me, but it’s a piece of shaved metal tied to a screwdriver. There wasn’t a note but I think it was him. I didn’t really know what to say to him before. I just, I’m a little confused. I always thought he was kind of cute, but all of this is weirding me out…’ 

Hold on. 

Kuina’s eyes widened. She replayed that last sentence in her head. 

Hold on just one second. 

‘I’m only asking because I care,’ they said, ‘but is he okay, you know, mentally?’ 

‘Look,’ Kuina interrupted. ‘This is going to sound crazy, but hear me out.’

Maybe honesty really is the best policy. 

She took a deep breath. ‘Chishiya actually likes you. As in, he likes likes you. He’s just fucking awful at flirting.’ 

(Y/N)’s whole body froze, eyes flashing with hope. ‘You mean he likes me in that way? He has feelings for me?’ 

Kuina nodded and leaned back in her chair. It was like a huge weight had suddenly been lifted from her chest.

‘I wasn’t going to say anything since it’s not really my place, but the two of you are getting nowhere like this. I know how he looks, but Chishiya’s not made of stone. I think he just wasn’t sure how to tell you and decided to make you weapons for protection. He’s really logical like that. I guess he figured regular gifts didn’t have any value in this place.’ 

Have I ruined it?

She had tried to explain the best she could, to put Chishiya in a good light and dissolve any rumours of him being a homemade weapon-obsessed stalker. But by doing this, did she also sabotage his chances? 

(Y/N) smiled gently. ‘I guess when you think about it that way, it’s actually kind of sweet.’ 

Kuina was perplexed, to say the least. There was no way in heaven or hell that Chishiya was sweet. Not a chance. The man was cold, stoic, calculating, basically anything but boyfriend material. But she wasn’t going to say this to the one person who might actually be able to change him.  

(Y/N) stood up and grinned at Kuina. ‘Thank you! I think, I might actually go and talk to him now. His room is just down the hall, isn’t it?’ 

“It’s room nine,’ Kuina got to her feet too. ‘I’ll come with you, but I’ll be hiding around the corner. If it’s okay with you, I want to see how this works out.’ 

‘That’s okay,’ they said. ‘I’d like you to come. It’ll be good having you there, for support.’ 

The pair left Kuina’s room and headed down the hallway towards room nine. Judging from the vague shuffling noises they could hear through the door, Chishiya was inside. Kuina gave a wink of encouragement and hid just behind the corner, the perfect place to listen in and spy from afar. (Y/N) knocked on the door, holding the soda can between both hands.

The shuffling noises paused, then the door opened, revealing Chishiya. When he saw who was on the other side, his lips parted in mild surprise. 

‘Hey Chishiya.’ (Y/N) shuffled awkwardly. ‘I just wanted to stop by to say I’m sorry about before, if I seemed off. I was still kind of thinking about my game earlier.’ They held up the soda can. ‘Really, thank you for this. It’ll be really handy in a pinch.’

To anybody else, Chishiya’s expression would seem static, bored even. But Kuina saw the vague tug of a smile on his lips; she knew better. 

‘If you use it in your next game, I can make you another one,’ he replied. ‘Or if you need a knife that you can hide in your jacket. Tasers too.’

‘Tasers?’

He smirked. ‘All you need is an electronic device. It’s a simple rewiring trick.’ 

The two spoke in hushed tones, Chishiya faintly smirking and (Y/N) taking in every word he spoke. Watching from behind the corner, Kuina was delighted to finally see her efforts come to fruition, and she had to admit, these two oddballs kind of suited each other. Who would’ve known? 

(Y/N) peered over Chishiya’s shoulder, their face lighting up. ‘Wait, is that your workbench? Can I see it?’ 

‘Sure.’ He opened his door wider and (Y/N) slipped inside. 

This is the cutest thing I’ve seen in ages, Kuina thought. Maybe I should become a professional matchmaker. 

And then she froze. 

She froze because Chishiya didn’t close the door behind him. Instead, his eyes jumped over to where she was standing, looking at her squarely. 

Busted!

She gave him an awkward wave of her fingers. However, instead of scowling at her for meddling too much in his affairs, he gave her the briefest of nods - a small thank you for the world’s greatest wingwoman. 

[towerartt]

Handsome Jack 8, 12 ❤️‼️

ouhhh so sorry this took me so long to answer...

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

I’ll tell you if you promise not to get mad at me💔

A big chunk of the fandom wrongly views him as the Capitalism Incarnated, while he is quite obviously simply a product of the psychopathy breeding system. Jack’s psychopathy is a reaction to a crime that is uniquely capitalistic. Angel’s kidnapping is a crime of greed. He is, as every Borderlands character, uniquely traumatised by the world he was born into. Borderlands shows what capitalism does to men. Jack is not much different from the psychos/bandits of Pandora. For both, the planet is a prison. Psychos choose to assimilate, and Jack chooses to destroy it. He is the universal threat; neither the poor Pandorians nor the elite are safe from him. 

But does the distinction matter? I believe so. This affects the narrative as a whole. 

We can choose to see Jack as Capitalism, and we get to kill him, and then we all go out for milkshakes. Simple and up-lifting, and very American. But to me, Borderlands is largely pessimistic. Honest people die, the leaders are either cowardly or evil, and the oppressed are often gross, stupid, and difficult to sympathise with. And we cannot kill capitalism, so we kill a scapegoat in its place. The world of Borderlands is fixed: Jack’s death does not affect the status quo; it only frees the tyrant spot for the new, yet-to-come aggressor. This is less satisfying, isn’t it.

(Possibly I am overanalysing a silly shooter game that isn't concerned with a critique of capitalism/colonialism deeper than a simple and straightforward “It is very bad.”)

And despise is a strong word. Interpret him however you want. What I truly despise is haters going "Why are you Jack's apologist?" because he activates my maternal instincts! Next question.

+ personal nitpick. The "Is he/is he not a tragic hero" debate. Girls NONE of you are using the same definition of neither hero nor tragic. I hope a huge asteroid takes out all of us.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

I have soo many so I'll just drop a few here that I haven't talked about before mkay <3

Uncharacteristically (and unsurprisingly) squeamish about burnt flesh. Nisha once brought him a scorched hand after some village burning (it looked kinda funny she thought it would make him laugh how was she suppose to know he is so goddamn sensitive) and he started gagging when she dropped it on his desk. When she gets really mad at him, she dumps some burnt remains at his apartment (she loves him dearly btw)

He journals a lot. Partially because, in his opinion, it is a very Great Leader activity, but also because Angel cannot pry into what he has written down on the pages. He knows this deeply annoys her. She can see everything, and she knows everything except for her father's thoughts. Sometimes Jack makes Angel echo him and patiently wait while he finishes his entry to really rub it in. He sometimes draws her.

I hope this is comprehensible. Part of Jack’s mythos being that he only has scars on his front, kinda like Alexander the Great, because a real hero always bravely faces his enemies. But actually, his back is a mess of scars from childhood. Wouldn’t that be fucked up?? All his fanatics are like "Erm, Jack would never ever let anybody get him from behind because he is SUPER cool and smart, and he never runs away from a fight <33" I think this would add to his inferiority complex.

Thank you for this ask💕 Ouhhh I love talking about this guy

[katsu28]

christmas tree miracle

pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

summary: when running horribly late on finding a christmas tree actually turns out to be one of the best decisions of your life

warnings: light swearing

a/n: taking a tiny break from writing 1k celebration things for some holiday fluff, but i'll be back on it soon!! come join kait's sweetest celebration if you'd like! <3

navigation + taglist

(gif found on pinterest)

Things were not going well. With the hectic nature of the holiday season taking over your whole life this time of year, you’d forgotten that you were in charge of securing a Christmas tree for your family.

It was now t-minus five days until Christmas, and you had yet to find a fir tree anywhere in the Outer Banks, which is how you ended up at at a smaller, more mom and pop farm called Woodards over on the south side of the island, praying for a goddamn Christmas miracle that would somehow get you the perfect tree.

But much to your dismay so far, no luck. The tiny lot was near void of trees, save for a few pathetic wilted ones over by the metal fence that definitely wouldn’t bode well if you brought any of them home.

You sighed heavily, shoulders slumping as you dragged a heavy hand down your face at the disaster you’d created for yourself. Christmas was your family’s favorite time of year, and you’d fucked everything up before the day had even come.

How were you supposed to go home and tell them that their favorite holiday tradition wasn’t happening this year, all because you’d gotten a little busier than normal?

“Hey,” A voice called from a little ways away, drawing your attention to the owner of said voice, a boy around your age, broad shoulders in a thick, worn looking grey jacket and blond curls poking out from under a red baseball cap that he tugged down tighter on his head as he peered over at you curiously. “You okay?”

You straightened up instantly, and you sniffed, trying to gain back your composure so you wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself in front of this stranger. This very cute stranger.

“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just, erm—trying to find a Christmas tree,” You sighed, gesticulating vaguely.

“Well, this is a Christmas tree farm, so you’ve definitely come to the right place.” He replied, lips quirking up into an amused smile. “Though you’re comin’ in a little late in the game, I’d say. You can probably see that we don’t have much of…anything, really.”

“‘S on me, I totally forgot I was supposed to get it this year.”

“Busy holidays?”

“That’s putting it simply. Feels like it’s coming a lot faster than usual.” You chuckled humorlessly, dragging a tired hand down your face. The boy nodded knowingly, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Any chance you’ve magically got any good trees somewhere around here?”

“I think I might be able to help you out.” He hummed, making a dramatic show of scanning his surroundings before crooking a finger at you to follow him. You fell into step with him as he navigated his way across the farm deftly, your steps a little less sure. What did your parents always tell you about going to a secondary location with a stranger?

The boy could definitely tell you were on edge, because he snorted, an amused smile stretching his lips. “Relax, I’m not gonna do whatever you’re thinkin’. We keep some trees over behind the main tent—the not quite perfect but still pretty good ones, just for poor old saps like you.”

“Oh, he’s funny too!” You rolled your eyes playfully, which made him smile even bigger.

“I try my best. I’m JJ, by the way. Christmas tree extraordinaire.”

“Y/N. Poor old sap.” That drew a laugh from him, and you felt a little bit proud of it. “So what made you wanna work on a Christmas tree farm?”

“Want? Nothing really, but I’ve known the Woodards since I was a kid so they usually hook me up with seasonal jobs. Lawn mowing in the spring, pool cleaning in the summer, that kinda stuff.” He explained, a fond smile creeping over his face. “Plus, Mrs. Woodard makes the best snickerdoodles ‘round this time of year. I swear I could never eat anything other than those cookies for the rest of my life and die happy.”

“They seem really nice.”

“They’re good people. Some of the nicest you’ll ever meet.”

“And they’ve got good taste in employees too. Are all your coworkers this charming?”

“Oh, stop it,” JJ brushed you off unconvincingly, holding a hand over his heart. “You’re making me blush!”

“It’s true! If all Christmas tree salesmen were as good as you, we’d have an even bigger tree shortage!” You laughed. It was weird how you could feel this at ease with someone you’d met not even twenty minutes ago, but here you were, flirting up a storm with JJ. It didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward at all, it felt…natural. Easy. Like you’d known each other for a lot longer.

“You’re just gunning for my cookies, aren’t you?” He teased, nudging your arm with a pointy elbow. You feigned surprise, shrugging innocently. “There might be some on the counter by the cash register later, you can probably snag a few if I’m feeling generous.”

“How kind of you!” Your conversation with JJ was cut short by your arrival at wherever he’d taken you, the sizable amount of pretty decent looking fir trees standing propped up against the fence proving a worthy distraction. “Oh wow, these are beautiful!”

“Feel free to look a little closer if you want, I’ll, uh, start getting some rope ready for you.” JJ set off almost instantly, leaving you studying the trees intently for the perfect one.

You’d only just found one when he reappeared, this time with a bundle of thin rope over his shoulder and some plastic netting, tossing the two on the ground next to the tree you were eyeballing once he was close enough.

“Oh, this one’s a nice one,” He noted, running a hand along the bristly branches. “You’ve got good taste.” You just grinned at him, happy that you were actually getting a tree after all. “I’ll get it tied up and ready to go then!”

JJ made quick work of packing up the giant tree, maneuvering it easily like he’d done it a thousand times before—which, judging by the lack of trees around, he probably had. Within no time, he’d looped the rope around the stump, slinging the whole thing over his shoulder and setting off towards the main tent with you in tow, without so much as breaking a sweat. It was probably one of the hottest things you’d ever seen.

“I can’t thank you enough for this, JJ, seriously,” You breathed, digging in your bag for your wallet. JJ leaned the tree against the fence next to the tent, brushing his hands off on his jeans as he made his way behind the counter.

He punched a few buttons on the ancient looking register, shrugging casually. “‘S what I’m here for. Glad I could help.”

“You’re literally the best. What do I owe you?”

“Normally, I’d hike up the price on this beaut for such a last minute score, but luckily for you, there’s a discount today,” He said proudly, grinning a wide, troublemaker smile. “I like to call it my ‘saving a pretty girl from more holiday distress’ discount.”

Your brows flew up at the boldness in his words, but you found yourself smiling. JJ the cute Christmas tree boy had game. “Oh? So how much do I owe you now?”

“Eh, sixty bucks.” JJ replied. Your brows furrowed at the low price. For a tree like this, which was actually pretty nice, you would’ve thought it would cost you an arm and a leg. “And a date.” He added hastily, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“A date.” You echoed, tilting your head thoughtfully, like you were pondering it. Truth be told, you weren’t actually thinking about turning him down at all. In fact, you had also been grappling with asking him out in the duration that you’d gotten to know him.

“Yeah. Coffee, movie, walk around town—I don’t mind. I just…I’d really like to see you again, Y/N.” JJ looked almost nervous now, lips pressing together into a sheepish grin.

“I’d really like to see you again too, JJ.” You meant it. There was just something about him that made you want to know more. You passed him the money you owed him for the tree, which he secured in the register drawer before nodding curtly.

“Here, lemme walk you to your car,” He insisted, shouldering the tree once again with minimal effort. The walk to your car was shorter than you would’ve liked, but alas, here you were. JJ stared up at the roof of your car, propping his hands on his hips with a furrowed brow. “I can get this up there in no time. Light work.” He flipped his hat backwards over his blond locks, pulling a pair of work gloves out of his jacket pocket and sliding them on.

He’d shucked his layers off until he was just in a t-shirt that gave you full view of his biceps, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the sight of him and those biceps hefting the large tree on top of your car. And he was right, he really did get the tree secured to the top of your car in no time, and soon enough he’d opened your door for you, helping you climb in.

Shutting your door carefully, JJ leaned into your open window, braced elbows and open palm holding up his chin as he watched you throw your bag onto the passenger seat. “I’ll see you around?” He asked, cheeks flushing pink in boyish hope. “Soon, maybe?”

“How’s next Friday sound? Lunch at noon?” You offered, tilting your head at him.

JJ beamed at you happily. “Sounds perfect. Text me when you get home, yeah? Gotta make sure that tree survives the journey.”

Your cheeks warmed at the care in his words, even though he tried to disguise it with teasing. “I will.”

“Good.” He murmured, looking like he wanted to say something, but deciding against it. “I’ll see you Friday.”

“See you Friday,” You echoed, smiling warmly at him. “And thank you again, JJ. I mean it. You’ve literally just saved my Christmas.”

“Saving poor old saps is my favorite part of the holiday season.” He teased, winking at you.

“Poor old saps like me?”

“No…nothing like you. You’re way better.”

Feeling emboldened by the wistful look on his face, you leaned out, fingers angling his jaw to the side and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Bye, JJ.”

“Bye.” He sighed, pushing off from the window with his cheeks now a pleased pink. “Drive safe.” You waved at him once more before starting your car, watching him get smaller and smaller in your rearview mirror as you drove away.

Staying true to your word, you texted him the minute after you pulled into your driveway.

Y/N: miracle tree has officially made it home.

A reply came in almost immediately—a selfie of JJ, mid-munch on a cookie, squinting happily at the camera.

JJ: glad to see it. u just missed a fresh batch of snickerdoodles. sucks to suck, doesn’t it 😉

Y/N: you better bring some on friday then

JJ: of course i will. but i gotta tell u now, they come at a price

Y/N: and what would that be?

JJ: one tin of cookies for another date

You hadn’t even gone on your first date, and here he was bartering for a second. He was bold, and you liked it.

Y/N: deal <3

taglist!

@milkiane @moralina @scenesofobx @tenaciousperfectionunknown @strawberryforks @vesperluvsbillie @like-gabriel-and-castiel @fearthewalkingbitch @eichenhouseproperty @dpaccione @directioner5life @liltimmyst @lilygreennn @sunkissedsteve @mrstealuregirl @izzymaybank @bubsonnobx @laylasbunbunny @cityofidek

[accirax]

initial thoughts on DCAS episode 16

... is Derek really an incel? like, at the very least, shouldn't him being with Kristal prove that he isn't an incel? i have no qualms with Emily insulting Derek, but she should at least be accurate.

ooh, Emily going full villain mode? we stan :D

girl how would you possibly think this would work

so Ally has resorted to playing a fully emotional game, huh? you either get eliminated a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the Jake.

the music in this scene cracked me up. also, i think aleriya is (canonically) dead after this scene, if it hadn't already died beforehand. (i say canonically bc fans can do whatever they want)

d-does he still...? also, obligatory "just because Connor loves Riya doesn't mean she has any obligation to love him back, villain or not."

i really can't tell if this part of Ally's character arc is meant to be viewed as good or bad. like, the show is obviously telling us that Ally's overall trajectory is bad, and being needlessly cruel to other people for the sake of putting your own emotional wellbeing first could certainly be a part of that. but, there's also been a lot of commentary about how hard it is to be under the scrutiny of social media (likely from the crew's own experiences), so Ally learning to stand up for herself and what she needs could also be a form of wish fulfillment. hopefully it'll resolve as a multi-layered predicament in the end, but i'm just trying to figure out how Ally will respond to her edit in All Stars in either the finale or the Loser's Motel episode.

...can't you just wait, like, two more episodes to directly state the point of your character arc, essentially then concluding it? then i could be sure that you'd win.

HELP

lmao of course the nerd can't rock climb. he can carry 120 pounds on his back but he cannot ascend.

Connor is really fucking strong goddamn?

Ally really can't fight this, because this is the exact rationale that she was trying to use on Jake for their entire games.

i want to see people draw buff Grett in the style of the buff Natsuki meme from DDLC. but, also, go Grett!!!

the intense difficulty of a twelve piece jigsaw puzzle. Venus noted that it really sounded like Kristal was describing a slide puzzle, but I understand why that would've been really difficult to storyboard.

Connor you can't be this stupid (/j)

in-universe, i don't really understand how she beat Alec (he was really good at the block puzzle in s1 and it fits his vibes), but yay Grett! i knew she wasn't going home tonight anyway.

what else could it have possibly been, Ally? regardless, we're definitely setting up the pieces for Grett's downfall soon.

can you really count the TikTok challenge as a "Jake immunity win"? literally everyone except Gabby and Grett won immunity in that challenge.

for a moment, i really thought Connor was going to pull the Kim Possible "out there... in here..." thing.

so true Jake

this feels like a fanfic line

you know Jake's having flashbacks to his last final 6 experience.

well, while i certainly thought that it was Riya's time to go in terms of the cut, it does actually make more sense for Alec to go home here, no plot armor involved! (other than arguably the plot armor of not letting Alec win the challenge.) Alec is much more threatening in a final 3 situation because of his greater athleticism and intelligence as compared to Riya, and Grett is closer to Riya than Alec. it sucks to see one of my favorites go, but it's entirely logical.

Riya out here projecting ("little toy")

this was such a good moment. i especially love the storytelling without dialogue going on with Connor's reaction. anyways, if Riya wasn't going to win before, she's definitely not going to win now. you don't get hit with the "look at what a sorry state you're in" three episodes before the final and then snatch the W.

maybe you shouldn't have fired and humiliated your employees live on TV, then.

is this season going to end with Kristal resigning from the show? i thought that might happen to make way for Emily as the new host, but now that she's going more villainous, i don't think that'll be the cast anymore. maybe Derek and Trevor will take the show back over, as (I think) the more popular hosts in the fandom?

anyways. a solid episode! i think a good number of people saw the Connor idol play coming from a mile away, so it wasn't all that surprising that one of the major villains was going down. still, we had interesting strategy and some great character moments, especially for Connor. they're really making the best of his extended time in All Stars. and, hey, there are only two guys left, so maybe he'll make the finale! it doesn't really matter, though, because it's gonna be Jake. i'll keep riding the Jake winner train until he gets eliminated. not that i think that's going to happen ;)

see you next week!

[rogueshadeaux]

Slllliiiiiides over here. Hi hello. I don't think I'll do a bad karma run (IM SORRY. IM SORRY!!) cause a) I'm a wimp and b) I need to get off videogames as soon as I'm done cause I've spent too much time playing lately lmao BUT I will be watching playthrougs cause I gotta know how fucked up he gets.... I gotta know...

To clarify i have a pre existing oc from a story that could be very easily flung into a vat of "au juice" because she's already halfway there in her own cannon LMAO we shall see, for now I have a huge list of things I want to draw for this game so I gotta finish 2 before I explode then I can unleash myself on art again. Gotta feed the discord now. I'm cooking for a crowd.

hi i've been dead for 8 days and recuperating for two lol I understand life stuff (and saw some references to it on your timeline, like the warhammer stuff and the tarot card thing??? bro that shit looks so good!!) as someone that literally shared your stuff and then got ripped away for my own life happenings lmfao. But if you get the chance in the future? Seriously, try an evil karma inF2 run. There's something about how they balanced the story that puts its predecessor AND sequel to shame. They're the same story, but different tales. They have the same goal, but different goalposts. SPP gives you a well-thought-out storyline that both is cohesive, but feels like your choices actually matter. It has none of the "I can help this old lady...or kick her fucking dog lol" of inFAMOUS 1, or the "I will fight for the tribe but literally do everything wrong. everywhere. because I'm a Bad Boy™" of inFAMOUS: Second Son. The choices feel real. They feel sound. They feel like the choices a man wronged by the world would make, if he decided to turn to his harbored resentment instead of his morality. And let's be honest, Cole also feels more morally gray in inF2 than 1 anyways, so seeing the path he takes is great because it genuinely feels like he's done with the accumulation of every shitty situation that has happened to him. And I'm sure you know how the story ends now, so...don't you wanna see what happens if he chose the other option? (pls tell me you haven't watched the playthrough yet lmfao)

Anyways yeah no I totally get life shit, it loves to pull you away from stuff, and also as someone only just now trying to do the bad options in Detroit: Become Human despite getting the game at launch because I need 6 years of preparation to be the bad guy, I understand the wimp bit too. It's hard to be mean sometimes. But with Cole's inF2 story, it doesn't feel mean. It feels like a desperate man, trying to fight for a future he's not convinced cares about him.

And yes oh my god please keep creating lmfao we all love your art so goddamn much. Don't leave this fandom you're now a very important asset. And it's always a good thing, throwing old friends into new situations! I love an OC in a wardrobe change. That's usually the best translation. Think a bit harder about forcing that OC into a new role. Shove her ass onto the stage. We'd all love her.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Writing Game 1.9: Enthralled

Prompt: Enthralled Pairing: Joel Miller/Jason Grace

Joel sits back, glaring at the younger man. The campfire they lit crackles, the stone semicircle they stacked around it keeping it from smoking.

"Are we gonna talk about it?" The last thing Joel wants is to talk, but he needs answers.

"No." The man growls.

Joel lets out a sigh of irritation. "You brought down a goddamn bolt of lightning like you're goddamn Jesus and we're not gonna talk about it?"

"That's about the size of it."

"Boy..."

"I'm thirty-six, don't call me 'boy.'"

"Then tell me what the hell is going on, damn you!" Joel's nostrils flared, his eyes wide. "If you're some kind of lightningrod, I can't bring you back to Jackson."

Jason laughs without mirth. "I can control it. It's... inherited. From my father. My sister could do it too."

"Lightning... powers?"

"Yeah." Jason runs a hand through his shaggy hair. "I didn't mean to use it, but... the clickers would have killed you. I was out of bullets."

"Thanks."

"Yeah. You fished me out of that river. Saved me. So... you're all I've got. You and Ellie."

"Anybody else... like you?

Jason looks up into the thickly clouded sky. "There used to be. Before. Hopefully they're hidden away, in fortresses and strongholds. But I'm not."

Joel hands him his glasses. "You've been through hell before. Haven't you?" It's not a question.

"Yeah. A lot of hells. Way, way Before. My dad needed a lot of... help."

The clouds suddenly flash and release a peal of thunder. Jason hardly reacts. They fall silent for a moment until the rain begins. Jason blinks as he stares straight up, enthralled by the droplets on his skin. He starts to cry, startling Joel a little.

"I'm alone, Joel. I've lost everyone, and it wasn't even to anything I thought I'd die to - it was to some fucking plague!"

Joel growls, trying to ignore the downpour. "You have us. You saved my life with that... lightning bolt. You've saved my girl's life plenty of times. I'm not gonna forget that."

Jason looks at him. There was something vulnerable in his gaze, and Joel gives a deep growl. He had always valued action over words. So he reaches out and draws Jason into a fierce hug. "Don't make me regret this, boy."

He holds him tight as the rain soaks them through to the skin, and just maybe washes away some of the pain of the last twenty years.

"I ain't leavin. Me and my girl, we're your family now. Okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah..." Jason trembles, finally melting into the embrace.

"Let's get back to Jackson, okay? Can you move?"

They make their way away through the rain, finally realizing that they were heading home...

[scarlettrose567]

MyHouse.Wad: What a fucking trip

Just finished MyHouse.wad. And goddamn, just goddamn. First of all, it is a fucking fantastic game let alone considering it's a free mod, easily on par with the original doom in terms of quality.

My overall impression is that this is a type of game that could ONLY come out as a mod. I mean, can you imagine say the next Call of Duty game where you can beat the whole thing as normal, but if you dig deeper it has a whole separate game exploring an endless house?

That all being said, two main gripes

The final fight was waaay too large/long, and if it was half the size it would be twice as impactful imo.

Ending is somewhat underwhelming, although that's somewhat inevitable since it's not going to straight up tell you what happens.

Oh yeah and 3) The labyrinth.

I love the idea of the labyrinth, however wish it was developed slightly more. I don't want there to be any enemies, but maybe a scrap of story or flavor would've been warmly welcomed. As is it's completely optional and you can't do anything apart from leave. However, it is indeed very unnerving (loved the touch of having the doors you open while inside being louder than average when they close by themselves).

Oh yeah, plus the blood appearing in the airport's bathroom did feel a bit janky/random and somewhat frustrating to trigger.

But in general it's all in the spirit of what it is trying to accomplish, and it absolutely excels in making you feel on edge, like the House is trying to get you to leave while drawing you in further and further.

But, you may be asking, what about the central mystery? What the heck is MyHouse.wad about anyway??

So, I won't rehash the exact wording (you can find that online easily enough), but to put it simply the creator of the mod is allegedly brushing up an old .wad file found in the floppy disc of a deceased childhood friend, and a journal as a word document plus some photos are attached to the mod when you download it.

Reading over the journal, a few odd section stuck out to me. He mentions that an old childhood friend passed away, and yet the very next day he writes "I never imagined that I would be saying goodbye to my friend so soon." Not something you would say about someone you only knew when you were a child, and hadn't been in contact with for years.

He starts working to restore and add things to the .wad he found. Over time, he becomes increasingly obsessed with it and it starts to affect his dreams.

He dreams about a house burning down, and finding a still born baby in the attic, of being hunted and finding refuge in a cave...

Something *very* strange happens on Dec 16. He seems to revert to a childhood persona, writing "it'll be nice to have some time away from the school", despite mentioning his job earlier, and "i'm sure they'll be a lot of fun and there wilL be plenty of laughter and good times". The day after he makes a comment about lack of sleep.

He dreams more. He dreams his reflection winks back at him, that he enters his bathroom mirror and finds comfort in that strange world.

He dreams he is in a car crash, then a plane crash. He survives the car crash. He does not survive the plane crash.

Valentines day: "Happy Valentines day to the only person I ever loved. For a short time, you brought a little happiness to this painful existence called life. I hope we can be together again one day. In the meantime… I’ll keep looking for that other someone who can be the ray of light in my life that you turned out to be."

He mentions how "After 13 years" he finally has the skills to finish the map, despite him mentioning he worked on it first 20 years ago with his childhood friend, according to the original description for the .wad.

He writes how the map is altering code by itself, growing when he's not looking;

"Without my guiding hand, the map doesn’t know what to build. But I can help it. Guide it. It seems to respond to my designs, changing them to match my emotional state. It knows what I’m feeling. It knows how Thomas felt."

He dreams of lying on a beach, safe and content, only to realize it is all fake. He writes about the agony of a heaven, and eternally being tormented by your own anguish, and how lucky his winking self is, to live a mortal life on a real beach, finding happiness in the small things he can control.

He finally publishes the mod, with no further entries apart from how he managed to publish a "safe" version. He won't allow the House to corrupt anyone else.

So, what to make of it all.

First and obviously, he clearly knew his childhood friend a lot more recently than his childhood, and the Valentine's Day strongly supports the fact they were partners - however, I do think they weren't in contact for at least a few years before his friend died. The "13 years ago" comment, plus the fact that items in the mod state "It was not to be" when picked up suggest that they were together for a time after, but then broke up. Both the crash and plane crash suggest something went wrong - maybe they fought, maybe there was an actual physical action - who knows. The airport section of the map further suggests that perhaps one or both of them traveled away from where they grew up? Moreover, the creator's comments about a "mirror version, happy on that other beach" suggests that maybe he made a mistake, and he's tormented knowing in another universe he could have been happy with his partner.

During the Brutalist area of the mod, you find two dogs - one completely harmless, the other a two headed monster that can kill you relatively easily if you aren't careful. But if you kill one, the other dies as well. Similarly, they can never meet each other. That could be a metaphor for their relationship - they couldn't be together, but couldn't bear being apart either.

However, there is of course a far darker possibility. A few items in the mod tell you "I want pop", and "The boy deserves a milkshake." This suggests a father-son relationship of some kind. Indeed, the very first area outside the house itself is a nursery for very young children, suggesting at some point he and his childhood friend adopted a child at some point. However, the fact that the house can burn down at some point, plus the constant dreams of disaster and the stillborn child could point to the fact that the child died somehow, possibly in a violent manner. If this is true, this would explain why they broke up, and why the original creator buried the memory - it was simply too traumatic to think about, until the death of his former partner forced these memories up to the surface, leading to him creating this mod as a coping mechanism. His comments about dealing with his own thoughts for eternity also suggest this - he could not bear to think about what had happened over and over and over again without being able to change anything.

The constant use of mirrors within the mod also tells us how much he wishes things had turned out differently - how he wants to live in a different dimension altogether, where this didn't happen, where he remained with his partner. The fact that if you leave the house without grabbing all the items might suggest they also sold (and potentially demolished) the house itself.

The house that can never leave his mind.

[halfetirosie]

🔥☕🔥I FEEL VALIDATED AND ANGRY, THEREFORE I SHALL SCREAM🔥☕🔥

(Marvels 09-10 React-os!)

1) (ᵕ—ᴗ—) Eiden, sweetie, sometimes you make it so hard to take you seriously...

I mean yeah, they just got out of a harrowing situation, but "scarred young soul"???

Scarred Young Soul?????

Damn, that's one of the most theatrical phrases I've heard in a while!!!

(Side note: Rei's Evil Smile™ is SO GODDAMN CUTE, WE LOVE TO SEE IT!!!!!!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡)

2) BLADE SWEETIE, YOUR NICKNAMES GIVE ME LIFE!!!!

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

🔥🔥🔥 PROTECT THIS MAN!!!! 🔥🔥🔥

3) Ohhhhh shit, that's pretty neat!!!

Say what you want about this Phantom Thief dude, but I'm giving him point for creativity!

4) ----You know what? This Phantom Thief dude really IS a dick tho......

I can practically FEEL Rei's annoyance radiating through my screen, and you know what? I do kind of agree...

I mean, we may have gotten distracted by the whimsy of this scavenger hunt, but let's not forget the fact that the dude is a legit criminal threatening to blow up a whole-ass building if people can't solve his puzzles in time---And NOW THERE'S ANOTHER FUCKIN THING TO FIND. OOF.

On that note, I'm betting that the third treasure will be either coffee beans or a cup of coffee. Like I said in a previous reaction post, I theorize that the whole point of this game was to draw attention to the coffeeshop, since it's a " real hidden gem/treasure" that many wouldn't recognize.

5) Aha, more evidence supporting my theory!

Of COURSE it's closely connected to the other clues! You had coffee in the envelope! You went to the coffee shop! Hell, the magic circle is on a SERVING TRAY. It's coffee! The last treasure is a cup of coffee!!!!!!

6) WHAT DID I TELL YOU????

THE WHOLE!!! POINT!!!!! OF THE GAME!!!!! IS ABOUT RECOGNIZE!!!!! REAL!!!!! TREASURES!!!!!

YOU GOTTA LOOK DEEPER THAN THE SURFACE-LEVEL OF "TREASURE"!!!! THINK ABOUT IT!!!! BLADE IS ON THE RIGHT TRACK!!!!!

SEE, EIDEN IS ONTO IT, TOO!!!!

THE TREASURE IS COFFEE, DAMMIT!!!!!

,; (ง 🔥 ﾛ 🔥 )ง ;,

I am getting so heated over this.... (Haha, get it? Heated, like hot coffee??? :D)

7) Boi + Father =

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Blessed Image ⊹ ࣪ ˖

8) *I continue to pound again the Dimensional Window, screaming "COFFEE!!!! THE TREASURE IS A CUP OF COFFEE!!!!*

And then, FINALLY---

OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD

YES YAKUMO, YES!!!!! YOU FUCKIN GOT IT DUDE!!!!! HELL YE--

......

.....FUCK....

......FUCK!!!!!!!

NO!!!!!!!

WHY!?!?!?!

JUST WHEN MY THEORY WAS GETTING VALIDATED (+ more or less confirmed) AND WHEN ONE OF THE CHARACTERS FINALLY FIGURED IT OUT---

THIS BITCH RUINED IT!!!!!!!!

FUCK THIS, THIS IS CHEATING!!!!!!!!!

Seriously though, that has GOT to be cheating!!!! I knew this dude was a criminal and all, but I thought he had some standards. But now he kidnaps one of the players when they're getting close to solving the puzzle??? How is that NOT cheating????? FUCK this guy!!!

😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

😡 End of report! 😡

[neonacity]

Hiii, i love your fics so much, thank you for your hard work 🥰🥰

I was thinking if you could write a fic based on baekhyuns "love again", it can be with a lead of your choice

Thank you in advance 💚

"Just stay for the night."

Johnny tried his best to keep his tone casual as he watched her silhoutte bend over the side of the bed. It was a relief, he thought, that the lamp threw shadows over him to hide the way his eyes flickered with longing even before she was gone. She paused at his suggestion, but only briefly, before she pulled on her skirt.

"I have to go back. I have an early meeting tomorrow."

"You didn't have any problem going straight to your office from my place before. Or do you want to make sure you look pretty for your boss now?"

He hated the way he rolled his words smoothly with sarcasm, as if his chest wasn't pinching from that goddamn dull ache that he had been wrestling with for weeks. He's a good actor, to say the least, and not once had he ever let someone one-up him in his game.

Even her.

Maybe, especially her.

After all, Johnny always gets what he wants. He's not one to be left hanging—he is the one who always cuts ties off. He never wanted anything more than lingering touches and lips on skin, and her starry-eyed gaze obviously didn't agree with that.

That was before.

When he realized that his nights with her started having a tinge of warmth that was beyond what the afterglow of passion offers, Johnny did what he always does best. Pull back. He made it clear that there are lines never to be crossed and he broke her, until there was nothing left for her to grasp on. She was supposed to be just another laurel in his crown.

And she was, until she wasn't anymore.

Everything about you was like looking in the mirror.

We were so much alike. The pretty lips that used to tell me love, now don't say any words, as if they were locked.

"Maybe I do. What's that got to do with you?"

"Are you fucking him?"

You said you loved me, but you tried to run away. Our race of love will never end, babe.

The way she froze made his jaw clench. Once upon a time, she would have crossed heaven and hell just to let him know that he was the only one. Now, she could barely even look at him, even in moments when her nails would draw maps down his back in her completion. She would still gasp out his name, but never in the same way that made him unravel before without his knowing.

"I am. Just like how I'm fucking you. Do you have a problem with that?"

The world felt tilted as soon as the words left her. He had known it, but he never wanted to hear it. At the back of the pain and the anger rears demons he had tried so hard to push back before. Only now, they have finally caught up with him.

Love.

Regret.

Longing.

I'll return everything to its place. I'm where I've always been.

I'm filled with those memories. I'm still just as I've always been.

Tell me once again, tell me you love me like you did that day.

The clicking of his metal lighter sounded the same time the lock clicked. Smoke curled in front of him, looking like the ghost of what could have been.

"I'm leaving," her voice broke the suffocating silence just as she reached the door. Her head turned just a little bit towards him, though her eyes never touched his.

"Try not to smoke too much... It's bad for you."

Johnny always gets what he wants.

But not her.

Especially not her.

*******

A/N: I can't write a full fic but you had to choose Baekhyun who is my number one bias so I turned it into a drabble with my NCT hubby. It's been a while since I did angst so I'm a little rusty but I hope you like this!❤️

[clotpolesonly]

i carve my name...(wip)

oh that one!!! that one is a very angsty sad gen Sciles thing that i started for an event like 2.5 years ago, and one of the very few things that i picked a title for before finishing it cuz i neeeeever do that 😂 (alternate title option was "such a shame that we play strangers") i think it's set fully post season 5?? season 5 was fucking rough for them lmao and i wanted to explore just how much that season broke their friendship

He doesn’t say anything now. Scott knows he’s awake, so he doesn’t bother pretending that he isn’t. For a long few seconds, they just look at each other. Then Scott looks away. He shifts on his feet. Through the darkness, Stiles can just make out the way he opens his mouth and then closes it again. Stiles finds the energy to push himself upright. He rubs at his forehead and says, with a tiredness that goes far deeper than just a lack of sleep, “Is something wrong? What’s happening?” “No,” Scott says. “No, there’s nothing— Everything’s fine, I just—” He trails off, and Stiles lets him. Scott’s hand comes up to run roughly through his hair. Silhouetted against the streetlamp outside the window, Stiles can see that it’s shaking. Scott lets out a sharp breath and meets Stiles’ eye again. “I just miss you.” The words sit heavy between them. Stiles feels like they should mean more to him, like they should hit him harder. But he’s having a hard time feeling much of anything lately, these last few days especially. He doesn’t know what it is, but everything is five steps away and he doesn’t have the strength to reach for it. Scott is five steps away. He’s right there, and isn’t this what Stiles has wanted? Isn’t that what he’s been fighting for this whole time? Not to lose Scott? He still wants that, doesn’t he?

[...]

Scott shifts beside him. “Do you remember that game we used to play?” he asks, barely more than a whisper. “When we were kids?” Stiles’ breath catches. He swallows. “Yeah.” “Can we play it again?” Eyes already stinging, Stiles lets them close. “Yeah.” It’s another minute before Scott says anything else. He used to be quick on the draw, back when they were kids, always full of words bubbling up and spilling out. Even the stuff he would never tell anyone else, he didn’t hesitate to tell Stiles. And that was the whole point of the game, wasn’t it? They started playing it after Stiles’ mom died and his dad insisted he needed to “talk to someone”. He meant a therapist, but Stiles threw a fit. He didn’t want to talk to someone, and he definitely didn’t want some old guy asking him a bunch of invasive questions and telling him how to feel. “You can talk to me instead,” Scott said then, earnest as anything. “I won’t even talk back at you! I’ll just be nobody, and I won’t ask you any questions or tell you anything. You just say whatever you want to. I won’t even look at you, if you don’t want.” It doesn’t qualify as a game, really. But they played it a lot, in those months after he lost his mom. And they played it again, after Scott’s dad left. Whenever one of them had feelings they didn’t want to admit to anybody, the other would be nobody for a night and just let them talk until they’d talked themselves out. No questions, no responses, no eye contact. Just words in open air, heard but unacknowledged. It wasn’t therapy, but it worked for them.

it gets really sad from there ok even i'd forgotten how goddamn heartbreaking this WIP is, i really should get back to and finish it someday, if only to provide myself with some fucking closure akdljfgh

.

ask me about my wips!